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synergysilhouette · 5 months

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Everyone keeps talking about "traditional villains," but in retrospect, I wish Disney had gone in a different direction for the Revival Era. Hear me out...

King Magnifico's failed characterization and poor writing in "Wish" really bummed me out. I was looking forward to a complex villain who was kinda right. I was hoping it could usher in a new age of Disney villains who were more grey than black and white, who made the characer grow as a person because they challenged their perspective. But then I realized that the opportunity existed in earlier revival-era villains:

Dr. Facilier is a villain first and foremost, though thinking back on it, I do think he is kinda proto-Magnifico, granting people's wishes, only for them to find that what they wanted isn't what they expected. I do wish he tied a bit of truth in with his scams, mentioning (similar to Magnifico) how people's dreams are very difficult to achieve--especially in the post-WWI American South, particularly POC. Naveen is generally assumed to be a POC himself, so he could juxtapose this viewpoint as someone who's never really had to experience such hardships. Dr. Facilier could still be 100% villainous, but further emphasis on dreams, wishes, and hard work would be part of his character. However, this is the reverse of "Wish"; Tiana has already worked hard, but she's lost a lot of her innocence and light-heartedness trying to achieve it, thus causing her to reevaluate how important love is and how she may not have realized it, being more practical about her dreams. It all starts with a wish.

Mother Gothel was already right; the world can be dark and cruel, and will destroy any light it finds. However, similar to Magnifico, since she's completely evil, the protagonist she goes against doesn't really change to understand what she's saying. Rapunzel doesn't see the world as dark or dangerous anymore; it's the opposite, thanks to her experiences. Because of this, I do wish Rapunzel did have a bit more negative experiences independent of Gothel to prove Gothel's point rather than it being "hey, she's just saying that because she's the villain." Maybe Rapunzel tries healing someone and people start lusting after her hair.

Hans is DEFINITELY a missed opportunity. He was the anti-Anna; isolated and alone, and he became bitter and cruel because of it. It's mentioned that the deleted song "More than Just the Spare" was removed because it made Anna too much like Hans. I don't think that, and if anything, it furthers my point: Hans gave up on his brothers, who he felt overlooked by and pestered by (he doesn't even mention his parents). Maybe give Hans less brothers and feature them a little in the movie so we can see how they interact with Hans and how it's a "what could be" for Anna and Elsa. His evil character is exactly what Anna is trying to avoid, but she understands how he became this way rather than it simply being for shock value.

Yokai was a great villain to me, but the reveal happened too late. I'd have loved seeing a more thorough exploration of his character and parallels to Hiro (which were done great in the film; I just wish it was expanded on). Highlight how people quickly forget about the dead and don't always learn from history, how there's this cycle of loss and hatred that you have to break.

Bellweather was on a power trip, but I do wish she had a storyline similar to Judy and Nick, since--in an interesting twist--they come off as more interesting and complex than the villain. She doesn't really say what made her act like this, and comments that "fear always works." I wish we got more of that, especially to play the two sides card; Zootopia is mainly predator-phobic, and challenges to this, ie predators playing down predator-related crimes in order to get people to look past their identity (and the fact that many predators are in positions of power) may have caused Bellweather's abuse by predators to be overlooked, causing her to want them all gone.

Te Ka is interesting. Despite "Moana" being a great film, I do feel like Te Ka and Maui's storyline was underutilized. It's revealed Maui stole Te Ka's heart for humans, but from what we see, Moana lives in this ideal community where their heritage, culture, and nature is loved and respected. Maybe embrace the fact that Tala is the only one who tells the story of the ancestors and how being they became "comfortable" since they were no longer voyagers, being used to the hierarchy and their stagnant society. Highlighting some humans' selfish natures would've been nice rather than Maui just telling us about it, with Te Ka being a metaphor for the destruction and disregard for nature and love.

Namaari is such a missed opportunity. Despite caring about her community, she comes off as more villainous than an antihero since she doesn't show any sympathy or care for Raya--in fact, she seems rather smug about hurting her. By making her a villain burdened by expectations and love for Fang while slowly being redeemed would've been better to me, shifting her POV slowly, making Raya angry with Namaari but understanding her motives. Having some regret about her choices--even if she believed they were the right ones--would've gone a long way for Namaari's characterization.

Magnifico...well, you already know he could've been one of Disney's most complex villains. Horrifying backstory and powers that are the result of hardwork left him with a jaded view on wish granting. He wants to help others, but has MANY reservations about it.

This is just my POV, of course; some of you may disagree (or feel like the aforementioned villains already achieved what I ask for), but I do hope future Disney villains have that "they're kinda right, even if they're wrong" characterization. It'd be a nice new era as the successor to traditional villains and twist villains--though just like twist villains, this trope requires VERY good writing.

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tanith-rhea · 1 year

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Screw your roommate, I'll show you a good time

When the girl from the room beside yours brings her boyfriend to spend the night, you cannot comprehend how someone can have such a good time they'd scream like that. Forced to leave your room and look for somewhere else to spend the night, you end up on the comfortable sofas in the library's reading nook, only to find that somebody was already there. And, wow, that girl is so pretty but wait, she's one of your dorm neighbours, isn't she?

Word count: 1.8k

The characters are above the age of consent!

You have listened absolutely enough of Morticia Frump's moans. Who were you to judge the girl for living her best life, but did she have to voice her appreciation so loudly? You could NOT take any more of it. If you heard another "ah" or "oh", you would unhesitatingly take your own life.

Marching down the Nevermore halls with a pillow under one arm and a thin blanket around your shoulders like a cape, you looked for the farthest place you could get from Ophelia Hall to spend the night. After fumbling and bumping against iron armours you got to the library; with any luck, you could sleep in the comfy sofas by the reading nook. Since it was past midnight, the spacious chaise lounge by the big window would be free, and you could romanticize falling asleep under the moonlight all you liked.

However, it seemed not even in the ungodly hours of the night you could relax on the highly disputed seat. Someone, a rather long-legged girl was seated there, reading... IN THE MOONLIGHT. Jesus, not even your aesthetics were only yours in this school.

"You'll need glasses if reading in the dark is your hobby" you approach, spooking the girl, who quickly shut her book and looked at you.

Oh, she was very fine indeed, with the silvery light making her hair into a halo of white-blond locks; you had seen her around the corridors a few times.

"Not a habit," she relaxed upon realizing you weren't a teacher "Just needed a place to stay for a while" the disgust on her face was obvious, and you thought rather cute as well.

"Well, we're in similar situations, then. I can't stay at my dorm at the moment"

"Tell me about it" gosh her eye roll and sassy smile did something to your legs.

You went to the lounge, testing the waters. She folded her legs so her knees were against her chest for you to sit. You smiled and threw your pillow and blanket on the seat before dropping on top of it.

"So your dorm neighbours are partying?" you laughed at her fed-up huff.

"My roommate and her boyfriend. I just can't understand why they never give it a break. It's as if they're under a spell! If they look the other in the eye you better hurry out or you'll see things you wish you hadn't"

Well, that was a lot. You were still laughing when she realized her outburst and reddened, opening her book again to avert your gaze.

"Sorry, that was a bit too much..."

"No, it's fine, really," you reassured her, crawling to sit beside her in the bed-like chaise "I have these dorm neighbours that are so loud I cannot understand how the principal hasn't called them yet for indecent behaviour"

"Yes! Jesus Christ, I thought it was only me. My roommate is impossible, like I get that she's madly in lust with her boyfriend but you don't need to rub it in my face Morticia!"

Hang on a second. Morticia? Was she...? And then you realized. Being a year older, you didn't have any classes with the girls next dorm, but you were pretty sure that was the cute perfect-student roommate of Morticia's.

"Wait, what? Are you the Weems girl? The one from the talent show?" her blush was oh so very becoming.

"Fuck, I didn't mean to say that...." she buried her face in her hands against those high knees like a toddler playing hide and seek.

"No! I loved your Judy Garland, really impressive for such a young shapeshifter" she laughed bitterly still enclosed in the prison of her limbs.

You gently put a hand on her back, trying to coax her into looking up by pulling one of her arms slowly. She did, and the disappointed frustration on her face left you missing the sassy smiles.

"I'm being genuine. I heard you're the best student in your year. Didn't you start a book club to help the guys read Mr Loras' books last semester?"

She looked doubtful, but let you have it anyway. She didn't have the energy to argue at this point.

"I did. But nothing I do really stands out when your roommate is Morticia Frump" she shrugged.

"Are you kidding me? I know Morticia's cool and all, winning the Poe Cup or whatever, but you are the one teachers mention when someone complains about class. It's annoying actually because they point out that this girl a year behind us knows stuff we haven't even learned while we can't be assed to read a textbook."

At that, you saw a glint of smugness in her eyes, and the tiny corner smile she didn't realize was gracing her face made something warm pool in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm exhausted" she changed subjects, averting your eyes one more time "do you think they're finished by now?"

You forgot she wanted to go back, and suddenly the prospect of spending the night chatting up Morticia's exasperated roommate was robbed of you. You could not deny she was nice and funny. The stress tightening her shoulders made you want to give her a massage while she complained about all the things you could bet she bottled up that bothered her. You would happily spend the night just basking in the warm presence of the girl if offered, so you wouldn't just let her go without a fight.

"Do you want to risk going back and seeing them sleeping together? Or worse... not sleeping yet?" you arched your brow in what you hoped was a convincing disgusted expression. It wasn't difficult since you were actually SO DONE with those two.

"I guess not..." she looked out the window, contemplating the school towers against the big full moon "Do you mind if I stay here too?"

"Hey, you were already here. I should be asking if I'm allowed to stay" you winked and for god's sake she had to stop blushing so prettily.

"You are the one with the pillow and blanket. I was just going to read a bit and go back" a shiver ran through her body then, making the hairs in her arms stand "Actually... would you mind sharing the blanket? I'm a bit cold."

There it was, your shot, your one-in-a-lifetime chance to have her pressed to your side. Jesus, could you be more of a creep? What the fuck.

"Yes, no problem at all. You can keep it, for tonight I mean; I'm not that cold."

There, less creepy. The blanket was still going to smell like her though... shut up!

"Nonsense. The blanket is yours, c'mon I won't bite you" she moved close and covered you both. I wish you would bite. FOR FUCK'S SAKE STOP.

"Thanks... you're sweet" at that she just gave you a strange look, but didn't comment "So, what were you reading?"

You spent some time talking about books and assignments, music (which you had the same taste on), movies and all manner of things. After a while, Larissa became comfortable enough to recline against you and bitch about how Morticia wasn't the absolutely perfect female specimen everyone seemed to agree she was, and you were in heaven. You sensed a bit of envy, or maybe it was something else, a darker craving she wouldn't talk to anyone about, you even less being practically a stranger.

"I bet you could beat her if you tried" you commented when she was telling you a story about Morticia's first appearances at the debate club.

"I don't bother trying anymore. At the end of the day even if I win everyone still likes her better, and that's ok, I guess" she had her head against your shoulder. Sometime in your last hour of conversation, you both had slipped into a laying position "She's just beautiful and charming like that. Everyone loves her" she seemed more resigned than alright with her comment and that could not stand.

"I don't think that" ok, what were you doing? "I think you're way more charming than her"

She snorted and lifted herself on her elbow to look at you with an amused face.

"Oh really? Of course, you're not saying that just because I'm the one here and not Morticia, right? If it was her you would say 'oh, no, I think your tall roommate is way cooler than you'" she mock-mimicked you and laughed as if it was funny that you tried to "fool her."

"I would!" you could not believe this girl. She was so good, nice, and cute and Jesus, she even had the sarcastic sense of humour you would kill for in a friend... or more than a friend "You are dazzling, your taste in music is banging and you sassed the hell out of me for having a crush on Jamie Lee Curtis, what's there not to like?"

She was silent for a second. Her shell-shocked expression making you self-conscious about having said too much. You were weighing your options between slowly retreating and full-on running away like a blushing eleven-year-old when she leaned down and kissed you.

Well, that was certainly nice.

Her lips were soft and slightly unsure. You weren't helping too by being shocked motionless, and she was almost breaking the kiss to apologize when your brain finally worked and you cupped her head, bringing her into an open-mouthed enthusiastic kiss.

She tasted divine. The faint trace of strawberry lip balm mixing with the freshness of her toothpaste was intoxicating. She made soft sounds against your lips and straddled your lap to tower over you. Her hands forcefully burying themselves in your hair while she rocked her hips against yours.

You were ecstatic. The most gorgeous sophomore in the school was grinding and panting in your lap, your hands bruising her hips with the need to feel her close, the wetness between her legs sullying your pyjama bottoms when she suddenly stopped, looking you with lust-filled eyes and an unreadable face.

"I don't think we should be doing this here," she said matter-of-factly, panting from the exertion.

You gave her a cheeky smile, an idea passing through your mind.

"What do you think of giving your roommate a run for her money? I'm sure I could help you wake her up"

She smiled, biting her swollen bottom lip before running her tongue through it.

"I think she could hear what real fun sounds like" and with that, you both were off to your bedroom, blanket and book forgotten by the lonely window.

Part two can be found here.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems #student!reader #student!larissa #student larissa weems #can be read as gn #gn reader #larissa weems x gn reader #female reader #smut kinda #i'm scared of writing smut so i'll leave it to your imagination what they did #i just dont know how to do it #implied smut #morticia's tall roommate

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baka-bakeneko · 4 months

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Stomping Ground - River Ward x Fem! V Reader

tags: NSFW, MDNI, established relationship River Ward, Johnny Silverhand: Resident Cockblock™, non-canon background of River/Panam/Joss/Saul, pregnancy talk, br33ding kink/mention/actions, in heat mention/action, cumplay, mating press, wrap it before you tap it psa, double orgasm, doggy style, cervix mention, pillow talk, creampie

wc:

synopsis: Panam tells you something about boyfriend River you're sure you'd never noticed before.

a/n: y'all ever watch reservation dogs? i got this idea from that because the man mentioned with that line looked like riv...also, absolutely feral feminine urge to climb through my television to sex this man

There was a clear and definitive space you carved out for River in your life. It wasn't necessarily prominent at first, but you realized it slowly over time.

Not that the man didn't want to meet your "friends", moreso accomplices, and your handler; he definitely did, but knowing River's do good bleeding heart, you knew he'd try to get you out of it as soon as possible.

However, you began to notice the lines starting to blur a bit more. River started picking you up at your apartment to take you back to his place (even though you'd practically moved into the trailer with him).

Judy and Rogue were starting to mention your time spent outside of Night City, how the ever beating sun in the desert was doing wonders for your sickly complexion.

Obviously, Johnny wasn't any different. The individualist that was not on the River Hype Train.

"He's still a bootlicker, V. You're sleeping with a corrupt puppy."

His bitching and moaning was relatively drowned out, though, by someone who shared similar stomping ground with River.

Panam.

It wasn't often you hung out with her, she usually only called to ask for something, but when you two were together, she was the most herself about your relationship.

That saying that Panam was her normal cool demeanor version of gushy about you being infatuated with the ex-cop.

You'd asked her if she knew him, and she repeated the stomping ground. There was once a time, she mentioned, that her and Joss could see each other on opposite sides of the fence.

She never dwelled on it, only mentioned that little River had the longest braids. That she'd sit on a hill and admire how his sister brushed his hair back with her fingers and braided it almost all day.

Panam scoffed by the fire then, taking a swig of her tequila then offered you the bottle. She leaned over to nudge your shoulder, still staring at the bright orange flames dancing before you two.

"All I know is that Saul used to say boys of the Pomo tribe," Panam hiccuped halfway through her sentence. "can impregnate you with a single gaze."

You practically wasted the alcohol you swigged, the clear liquid dribbling from your mouth at Panam's statement. Of course, it was meant as a warning to young Panam and probably a lot of young Aldecado girls.

But it was funny and vulgar to imagine that sentiment still standing true. And that sent a shock straight to your core.

Because you hadn't seen that gaze of River's yet.

Or maybe you'd been ignoring it.

You woke up the next morning after driving through the desert back to River's. Climbing into bed with him the night before, Panam's stories about him weighed in your heart.

Reaching an arm out to pull River close, you realized he'd already gotten up. You sat up, tossing the bedsheet away and kneeled on the bed to stretch.

River had offered yet another one of his shirts to you, this one a Night City Police Academy heather grey. The sides were cut off, hardly holding your breasts back and revealing your bare ribs.

"Good morning beautiful," River chimed, brunting his door open by his hip with two cups of coffee in hand.

You sat down heavily, the bedsheets puffing around your ass before settling. "Good morning yourself."

You reached out for the coffee cup River offered you, taking in his standard pajama attire. With an approving hum, you brought the coffee cup to your lips and sipped.

"You read my mind," you praised, shutting your eyes to revel in the warm liquid traveling down inside.

River spared a breath from his nose, doing the same as you straightened up again. You took another quick sip then set it on the windowsill, turning to River.

And there it was.

That had to be it.

Because your chest tightened in the same way you knew something good was about to happen. And your body was certainly open to it.

"Hard pass!" Johnny screeched in, crossing his arms before your face like a no-bone referee. "Not while I'm around!"

Your loving gaze to River was directed as frustration to Johnny S. Cricket. "Shut up, I'm steering this one."

"Babies and Johnny don't freakin' mix, V!"

You grit your teeth and muttered from the corner of your mouth. "Panam didn't mean it literally. Take the backseat."

Johnny buzzed around the room in soft glitches. "Oh hell no! You think I'm gonna let you play house when we had a deal? I'm not sitting by while you piss away our chances, V, for a freakin' meter maid!"

Your sultry smile turned sickened, actively reaching up your neck to yank Johnny's relic out and deal with consequences later. "Last chance, Johnny. Otherwise, I'll reset us both."

Johnny blew a harsh raspberry at you, zipping to your side to whisper in your ear. "Fine, but don't cry to me when I don't take the reigns to change a goddamn diaper."

Then he shut up and disappeared.

And River's glare was still there. Still baring into and lighting a new type of flame under your skin. Keeping your chest tightening and your breath quickening.

It was a subtle glare, one that you were sure he'd given to the back of your head before. One eyebrow barely cocked, his molten brown eye softened a single degree. And maybe it was something about him always looking so hardened, but this look was softer by an nth.

His lips were absolutely kissable, curved into a smirk. And how could this single glare make you want him so badly?

And how long could he keep this single glare up? Because there was work to be done.

You felt yourself turning into a bitch in heat by that glare, sitting up straighter and angling your body at him. Knees inched apart minutely, but enough for River to notice.

His interest piqued with a minute tilt of his chin; he blindly reached to his side and set his coffee cup on his nightstand.

You kept his gaze, feeling every breath tearing through your burning chest. And you needed to be naked.

River's glare willed it to be. His hands found his waist and shared a staggering breath out, his cock slowly rising to attention behind his pajamas.

You reached for the hem of his shirt, your arms crossing over your head to reveal the presence of your mostly naked body. His tongue tempted out, his eyes never leaving yours though you knew he'd raked your body in admiration.

You copied his motion, licking at your lips as your breathing raced to soft pants.

River gulped, breaking contact from you first to force his bedroom door closed. He locked it, holding his hands to the plywood while he bowed his head in effort to stay level.

His massive shoulders shuddered, his back rippling in war with himself. Still, he turned around to you, hooking you onto his glare again.

And it was as if the spell was never broken. Your nipples hardened to the cool of the room, to River's silent will.

"Show me your pussy, baby," he gruffed, his voice a new bass of desire.

When you'd normally flinch, you were obedient to River's order. Your breath hitched, spreading your knees further and peeling your panties to the side.

River's eyes never left yours, but braced his knee onto the bed. He peeled down at a hip of his pajamas, freeing his leaking cock to meet you.

Another chill wracked your body, your cunt pulsing at the thought of his length stretching you. Every thought of River impregnating you made you dizzy in eager want.

He swiped at the tip of his cock, gathering his precum before reaching out to stroke your pussy. His eyes kept yours, watching as you slowly crumbled in his touch.

When he was satisfied, River flossed the front of your panties against your clit, earning a whimper from behind your lips.

He leaned in, nudging his nose against yours with a heavy breath against your lips. Your chin tilted in his direction, tempted to kiss him, but his hands tearing your panties in half halted you.

River's hands grabbed at the backs of your knees, pulling your legs over his thighs as he readied his cock before your aired sex.

Your heels planted on the bed, hips angling ready to take him. Your breathing faltered, your chest rising and falling in cascades.

River grinned deviantly before your lips, reaching to shrug his pants further. His hands resumed behind your knees, instantly folding you down on the bed.

Your knees met your breasts, leaving your ass to be caressed by his thobbing length. Your eyes cut to River's cockhead rubbing between your wet lips, prodding against your thrumming clit.

Turning to River again, his gaze was unmatched. The silent will for you to beg for him. Your bottom lip twitched, a soft moan leaving you.

He took your sound personally, feeling it fuel the burning and gnawing within him. River pulled his cock back and forward again, earning a few more noises before angling his hips to catch at your entrance.

Then he was sinking into you. And you cried out at the instant relief. His cock drove into you, molding your walls around him.

You edged up to gain more of River faster, his body folding over yours breaking a sweat.

"River," you mewled, feeling his hips lay flush to your pussy.

Your hands went for his face, your legs folding and your foot twitching at the middle of River's thick back.

He barely let you settle, raising up with his calves to start a skin-slapping, heavy pace. The noises that he rang out of you carried through the room, no doubt disturbing the peace of the house.

River gripped a bit tighter at your knees, slowing his pace to catch his breath. His balls rested against the apple of your ass, hitting right at your deepest spot.

You simpered, taking heaping breaths to steady your heat. Your pussy convulsed helplessly, unable to stabilize your heightened sensitivities.

River ignored giving you any external stimulation, only kept your eyes on his. He angled further, fucking into you steadier with slower strokes while you whimpered and pleaded softly for River to make you cum.

River huffed down at you, his breaths a melodic chant to keep him stable. Your face scrunched at the gaining fire from your pussy to your stomach before you blindly gripped at River's hip and halted him for you to throb around him.

You came hard on him, squeezing his cock heartily in your soft, hot walls. River's name was on your lips, drooling out your praise while you wetted his hips and balls.

"I-I'm not done with you yet," River panted, dropping your legs after pulling out.

He gripped your hip to roll you onto your stomach, pulled you onto your knees with your ass on display before him.

River sank his cock back into you, earning a keen mew. You spread your knees further, regaining your energy while still spasming on his cock.

You purred out a 'baby' for River's ego; he folded over you, let you run your hand along the back of his shaved head.

His cock speared harsher into you, halting his hips tighter with each pump. Even without saying anything about it, you knew what he was doing.

River's tip abused at your cervix, earning a few squeaks from you until he circled his arm around your waist and pressed at your stomach.

A new flush of arousal gained with his internal friction, pressing onto you as his other hand played at your nipples.

You arched into River, melting into his touch as his lips peppered and sucked at your neck. Your hips backed up into River, whimpering softly with each thrust until you were quaking.

Your knees slowly gave way, your body heating to give way to another orgasm. This one brought River along with you.

He gasped into your neck, held you obsessively close and hilted his cockhead directly against your cervix. You felt your pussy drown in River's essence, warming every fiber of your being.

"I want your baby," you simmered, turning to kiss River's temple, his cheek, his lips.

His cock continued to twitch, emptying everything he had into you. He growled, nipped at your ear.

"You don't know how badly I'd want you to," River whispered, taking your skin in with a soft suck.

He tenderly marked your neck, ran his lips to your shoulder as he canted his hips softly into you.

"I so badly," he thrusted into you with each syllable. "want that."

You rode every thrust into the mattress, gripping the sheets and the back of River's neck. He moaned into your neck, baring his teeth to bite as he hugged you.

Time froze in that instance, the two of you holding on as River's essence gushed around his cock and out of you.

When he was finished, River slowly pulled out, trailing kisses along your back, between your shoulders and down to your hips.

He rocked your hips in his hold, tracing his nose along your skin before resting on his back next to you.

"Come here," he crooned, his voice so soft and welcoming.

His arm braced behind his head, leaving his side open. You nuzzled into his side, glancing up as he tucked his chin down to look at you.

And that look was still plastered on his face. You couldn't help but giggle then, feeling River's hand trace along your spine.

"What's so funny?" River asked, turning his lips to kiss your forehead.

"Panam told me about you, when you were younger," you began, grabbing hold of River's hand to thread your fingers through.

River's brows raised before chuckling. "What'd she say?"

You tilted your head up to look at River. "That you used to have the longest hair that Joss would braid."

He smiled, kissed your forehead.

"I did, down the middle of my back through my teens."

You rested your cheek on his shoulder. "I wish I could have seen it."

River hummed. "What else?"

You couldn't hide your smile then. "That Saul used to warn all the Aldecado girls about you."

River's smile grew with a scoff. "You're bullshitting me."

"No, I'm serious," you giggled, sitting up to look River in the eye. "Said Pomo boys can impregnate you with a single gaze."

River reddened from his neck to his cheeks, his ears bitten crimson. Your grin was contagious, he couldn't help but match it.

You climbed onto River's lap, bracing your hands to his stomach. "And I almost didn't believe it, but you're doing it again."

River laughed harder then, holding your hips as he did so. "If I was doing it, and I'm not saying I am, what're my chances I could do it?"

That's when you blushed, turning away to your shoulder. "I'm not seeing you couldn't, you're on the right track so far."

River's hands roamed up your sides, then around to fold you against him. "I can keep trying, if you want."

You rested on your chin, staring at River as that gaze came back again. "I don't want you to ever stop."

River traced his hands in parallel lines down your back, circling your shoulders. "Good, because I want at least three."

You smiled against him, ignoring the Johnny alarm bell that you probably had limited time. You wanted to live in this little reality you two curated for a while longer.

"And we can all live on my stomping grounds," River soothed, tilting his head down to rest on yours. "With our own little slice of life."

#fanfic #fan work #river ward cyberpunk #cyberpunk #river ward x v #river ward romance #cyberpunk2077 #v cyberpunk #river ward

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echo-goes-mmm · 3 months

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Ambrose and Elliot Extra #3

Masterpost

Warnings: none

This is not currently canon, but would take place much later into Elliot’s recovery, when he finally knows about Ambrose’s immortality and abandonment, but not the details. This may become canon later, I haven't decided

It was a Friday night, the last one before planting season, and the dining room was packed. It was more of a meeting than anything else, but Master Ambrose prided himself on being a good host, and Elliot would follow his wishes.

Elliot helped him send out a steady supply of platters laden with food, and drinks flowed over the chatter.

“So we’re going to rotate the fields this year-”

“Well what about the sheep-”

“I’m just saying the orchards-”

“Ambrose, sir, I need more bread for the table,” he called as he put down more pints of ale.

“Got it.” Ambrose went to the kitchen to slice a new loaf.

The dull roar of the dining room suddenly turned to silence.

He looked up.

Elliot had never seen a god before, but there was no mistaking him. He was tall, even taller than Ambrose, with reddish brown hair and one golden eye.

He was looking around the room, and he was holding a bouquet of purple and white flowers.

“Excuse me,” he said, his voice low and smooth, is Ambrose here?”

No one answered him.

It couldn’t be… could it?

There was movement in the corner of his eye, and then a clatter. Ambrose stood in the doorway, platter and bread at his feet.

The god beamed. “Darling,” he said, stepping towards Ambrose. Ambrose stalked forwards, his face stormy, and the god paused.

Ambrose raised a hand, and slapped the god across the face with full force. The crowd gasped, and Elliot winced.

The god didn’t move away, still holding the flowers. “I am so sorry, my love.”

“Sixty-five years,” said Ambrose, his eyes closed, face unreadable. “Without a fucking word.”

Elliot had never seen him so angry before.

“I know.”

“You left me!” he shouted, voice breaking, tears beginning to flow down his face. “You bastard!”

“I’m sorry, Rosey.”

“Don’t ‘Rosey’ me! Where have you been?!”

“I- I’d rather not say in front of-” Ambrose grabbed the god by the wrist, and they marched upstairs, the flowers dropped and forgotten on the floor.

Somebody cleared their throat, and the crowd launched back into discussion about the upcoming growing season.

Michael sat on the chair nearest him. “Did you know?”

“I knew he was married, but-” Elliot shrugged.

Michael looked up from his tankard. “None of us knew either, but I thought he’d at least tell you he was married to a damn god, especially the god of lies.”

Elliot bristled.

“Michael!” snapped Judy from across the room.

“We don’t talk much about the past,” bit out Elliot. Michael, for his part, looked chagrined.

Elliot didn’t know who exactly knew the details about his old life, but the regret on Micheal’s face told him that the man knew some.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have guessed.”

Elliot picked up the bouquet of flowers. Some of its petals had dropped to the floor, but miraculously they were growing back.

Of course they were magic flowers.

“I’m going upstairs,” he announced to the room. No one stopped him.

He found an old water pitcher in his room, and plopped the flowers in.

He didn’t hear any screaming from Master’s room, which seemed like a good sign.

Elliot cautiously made his way upstairs, holding the flowers.

He knocked and pushed open the door. Ambrose and the god were sitting on the couch, hands locked together and tear tracks on Ambrose’s face.

Ambrose looked up, wiping his face. “Oh, uh, come in, Ellie.”

“Sorry to interrupt, Master,” he said. He put the flowers on the altar in the corner, and he realized the statue of Ambrose’s god was actually his husband.

“It’s fine. Janus, this is my friend, Elliot. Elliot, this is my husband, Janus.” Elliot did not look at the god’s face.

“A pleasure to meet you,” said Janus. His gut twisted. Michael had said he was the god of lies.

But then again… If Ambrose married him, maybe he was okay.

He hesitated. “Likewise,” he managed, and Janus smiled at him. Soft and gentle, just like his statue.

___________________

Ambrose slammed open the door and kicked it closed behind them.

He whirled on Janus. “So,” he crossed his arms, anger draining out of him. “Where have you been?”

“Well, you know how Mael and I never got along for long?”

“I recall.”

“I may or may not have been turned to stone for a while.”

Ambrose pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Stone.”

“I came as soon as I could, I promise.”

The story checked out as far as he knew. Mael and Janus had a famous rivalry, and it was sometimes less than friendly. Mael was not above turning a fellow god into a statue. Janus was not quite as proficient at physical magic as Mael, better suited to mental tricks.

On top of which, the other gods wouldn’t have been interested in getting involved in their petty arguments. Ambrose knew some of them; they often rolled their eyes at Janus and Mael. They might have thought Janus deserved it.

It made sense it took over fifty years for him to break the spell.

“Are we divorced?” asked Janus gently. “I understand if you want me to g-”

“You’re an idiot.” Ambrose took Janus’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t.”

They sat down on the couch. Ambrose couldn’t bear to stay mad at Janus.

“You know, it’s awfully rude Mael didn’t tell me about your predicament. Wasn’t he at the wedding?”

Janus laughed, running his fingers over Ambrose’s knuckles. “I’ll let him know you’re offended.”

There was a knock on the door.

___________________

“There’s something strange about that boy,” said Janus, long after they had indulged themselves with each other. “What’s wrong with him?”

Ambrose sighed. “It’s not really any of your business.” Janus rolled onto his side, facing him.

“I’m just concerned,” he said, “Is he okay?” His hand drifted to the curve of Ambrose’s side, his thumb rubbing over the bare skin like he was fragile but irresistible. Ambrose shifted closer to him.

“No, but… he’s better than before.”

“How did you meet?”

“He came in one night begging for food. He was starving to death, and I wasn’t going to refuse.”

Janus nodded. His hand moved up past Ambrose’s ribs to his cheek. Ambrose leaned into his hand. He had missed Janus so much.

“How long ago was that?”

“Uh, three years give or take. He’s been staying here since. And I won’t make him leave, so deal with it,” he warned Janus.

“I wasn’t objecting. Just curious. He called you ‘master’ earlier. You didn’t-?”

“No, that wasn’t my doing. We tried working on it, but it’s something he can’t shake. Usually it’s ‘sir’, but sometimes he slips.”

“Mm.” Janus’s hand dropped from Ambrose’s cheek, and landed back on his side.

“He means a lot to you,” he guessed.

“Yes. Just… leave him be, okay? I don’t want him spooked. We’ve worked so hard.”

“I’ll keep my distance, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.”

Janus kissed him on the forehead, a familiar gesture that he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” said Janus. “I missed you.”

“Me too.”

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings @zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone @snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @magdalena-writes @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda @loserwithsyle

#again NOT CANON #(yet. maybe. idk.)#but still fun to imagine #some townspeople : he literally just slapped a god are we gonna talk about that??#the other townspeople: sounds like gossip to me. absolutely not #i love how everyone both knows everyone's business and simultaneously refuses to get involved #Little Wood in a nutshell. No wonder Ambrose likes it there #Kings of minding their own business #my writing #ambrose and elliot #slavery whump #whump

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phntmeii · 7 months

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hello<3 hope you’re having a great day

Idk if you saw the movie sleep away camp(1) so if you haven’t just ignore this! But if you have can you please do one of Angela baker (such an underrated slasher) with fem!reader

You can totally add or do anything you want to this request tysm

♡ Dating Angela Baker Headcanons

❝ If she were any quieter, she'd be dead!❝

[ SFW + Fem Terms]

Pairing: Angela Baker x Fem!Camper

General Warnings: Mentions of Murder, Bullying, Homophobic targeting, Slight Yandere!Angela

A/N: Anon ty for the request!! Sorry for getting to this a little late </3 I actually watched this movie (and the second one) after your message and I agree that it's underrated! Had such a good time watching it! :) also absolute W for trans women

Angela was quiet and reserved toward practically everyone but Ricky. And even then, her responses were limited to small nods and a lot of guessing on Ricky's end for what Angela meant.

As much as Judy and Meg made fun of Angela for being a quiet loner, Angela did have one friend. You.

Angela found you to be the one person who didn't provoke her or make fun of her. You kept your distance when you felt it was needed and defended her to Judy when you knew she was being an asshole.

Angela couldn't help but to give a small smile when she saw how nice you were being to her. Even if she hadn't spoken back to you yet, her eyes spoke of her appreciation for her.

You were more active in activities like swimming and volleyball but noticed Angela not joining.

She always appreciated when you'd stop to come over to her even if she thought she didn't deserve that.

It only took a few days for you to hear Angela speak. You sat beside her at lunch and offered your food to her, seeing her finally eat.

She looked back with a small smile, "Thank you." You swore your heart could stop, finally hearing her soft-spoken words.

Your budding friendship wouldn't go unnoticed though. You became a target for bullying as well by Judy and Meg.

They were already making fun of Angela by calling her gay since she never showered the same time as everyone else. Seeing her only get along with you was just perfect bait for the two of them.

“Aww… This your little girlfriend, Angela? Fucking knew you were into that.”

Angela never made an effort to disagree, just giving a blank stare in response.

And soon, you noticed over time, people just started disappearing. Angela pretended to not notice or brush it off. She didn't need you to know.

Plus, you didn’t notice since Angela was distracting you with how she had warmed up to you fully.

She gave a small kiss to you in private then rushed off before the counselors realized you two were gone for too long.

Even in your disbelief that she had the confidence to that, you knew from that point on, you two knew that you were meant for one another. Angela only needed you.

You gave your own confession to her a bit after that before it was time to head back to the cabins for the night. Just a quick “I like you” which was met with Angela’s own reciprocation:

“I really like you too…”

Angela's main Love Languages to give are: Acts of Service and Quality Time.

Angela doesn’t like seeing you be bothered by everyone else just because of your association with her. So she does you the favor of eliminating them from the picture.

Even if it’s a minor insult thrown at you, she doesn’t see an issue with getting rid of them.

As long as they’re gone, you won’t be sad, right?

And it means the world for Angela to be beside you. She silently cheers you on from the sidelines with a small smile when you’re in one of the games at camp.

And if you win, you better believe she’s celebrating your win with a private little date in the woods or at the beach.

She’ll even make it all nice with a beach towel to lay on and some flowers she picked to offer to you.

Angela's favorite Love Languages to receive are: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation.

Like I said, Angela likes being by you. And it means the world when you go out of your way to be beside her.

No one else besides Ricky did that. Her eyes always just lights up when she sees you!

Her favorite is when you’d invite her to the camp events and eat with her while everyone else hung out in groups. The special attention you gave to her sent her over the moon.

And you can guarantee you’ll see her shy little smile when you compliment her or talk sweetly to her.

Especially compliments that confirmed her gender presentation and got rid of her slight dysphoria.

A small “Angela! You look so pretty in that!” and you can notice a blush and how she started wearing that piece of clothing more or doing her hair in a way that you liked more.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#sleepaway camp #angela baker #angela baker headcanons #angela baker x reader #slasher #slasher fucker #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slashers #slashers headcanons

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episims · 5 months

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Judi negotiation skill appreciation post

I've already played Judi's household so it's unlikely I get a chance to let her explain how buying Hanna was for her. This super self-indulgent post sheds some light on Judi's point of view!

No pictures. If you're not dying to know, this probably isn't for you lol.

So let's chop this scene into pieces:

Judith “You’re not stupid, Craig. You must realize that if I didn’t have a pressing reason, I wouldn’t be here.” Chase “Hmph.” She’s right. “I’m listening.” Judith “Thank you. I would rather negotiate indoors if that suits you.”

Judi has literally called Chase a nutcase, and that was before Chase slept with her ex. She needs to really compose herself to be polite.

Even more so to flatter him, as Judi tries to do by acknowledging Chase's intelligence. It works; it's a small step forward to get Chase to agree about something. Being inside the house also makes it slightly harder for Chase to just walk out of the situation.

Chase “-no. She’s not for sale.” Judith “Oh, I’m sorry for my choice of words. Do you wish me to call it a she?”

Since the goal is to get Chase to sell Hanna, it might be a problem that Chase humanizes her. So Judi lures him into changing the pronoun, hoping that it creates some emotional distance too.

Judith “I agree. But I could point out that I can afford to pay its current market value in full. I evaluated its components; many of them are outdated. Its wholesale price will only continue decreasing.” Chase She’s researched based on what Jonas has told her. I was careless with him. “The components don’t matter. They hold their value as scrap metal.”

Chase doesn't take Judi's bait about Hanna's decreasing market value so seems like he isn't hugely interested in cash. It's a bit of a setback for Judi; she doesn't have anything else than money to offer.

Judith “So it comes down to the code. Do you have proprietary over it?”

Spoiler alert: Judi knows damn well that Chase doesn't have proprietary over Hanna's code. She indeed did research. But considering how tightly Chase has pursed his lips about his past, bringing it up would likely only get Chase to raise his guard.

But the negotiation isn't moving anywhere so Judi tries to subtly push Chase to a more uneven ground. She's careful to make it look like an innocent question, something that would make sense to ask.

Judith “I’m not desperate to buy, Craig. I can hire home aid, just as well. There’s clearly a lot of potential going to waste with this project ending with the first prototype, but you’re right. It’s your concern, not mine.” Chase “Hmph.” Hanna’s value decrease was inevitable. But… the market has advanced for my benefit as well. It shouldn’t be impossible to find equivalent parts anymore.

Would Chase sell Hanna if he didn't feel it was completely by his own choice? Probably not, so Judi gives him room to make that decision. And while she has money to spend, it doesn't hurt to leave the impression that she's not ready to pay anything.

Since she now knows that Chase can't be won over by cash only, she tries to convince him that selling Hanna wouldn't take away his lifework but offer a means to continue it.

You can tell that Judi found the right lever as Chase stops to think about the possibility of selling for the first time.

Judith “What I need is a childcare assistant so it’ll only be for a few years. After that, it can break down all the same.” Chase Most of Hanna’s components have extended their lifespan by then, anyway. “It would be cheaper for you to hire a person.” Judith “Cheaper, not easier. Thanks to these idiotic restrictions, I would need to find a local for it. That aside, as you well know, I don’t need sleep. Having service available around the clock would be beneficial.”

Yeah, right. Judi has pretty good connections, of course she could find someone who has the right to pass to Foxfire.

The thing is that Judi wouldn't have considered buying Hanna if Jonas hadn't asked for it. That is a strong motivation for Judi to get the deal done; being seemingly ignorant of Hanna's fate is a bluff to hide that. Assuring Chase that Judi isn't trying to monetize Hanna herself is important, too.

Judith “It’s important that you answer in short. Do you understand?” Hanna “—yes.” Judith “Good. Do you know how to cook?” Chase *mutters* “Of course she knows how to-” Judith “Let me review the product, please.”

It's an act, aiming to close the deal for good. Judi attempts to keep the conversation with Hanna simple so that she doesn't accidentally talk to her in a way that conflicts with what she just told Chase.

So, here you go! If it seemed easy, it's only because Judi's a crazy good negotiator.

#foxfire forest #foxfire forest extra #judith root #hanna p1 #chase craig #long blabbering is long #felt like celebrating the anniversary by posting random extras!

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dreamersbcll · 10 months

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“Sigh No More” - for @monarchsrus

————————————

She’s been here before.

Lately, because she was skipping her medication, Tara has been sinking back into that hell. The silent one, the one that seemingly lasts forever.

It was too embarrassing and humiliating to tell Sam that she had been with them again. Her old friends. Her previous life. Surrounding her, touching her with their ghostly hands. How cold their bodies were, and how their pleas destroy her resolve. She never survives them. They always win.

Wes, Anika, and Judy. The three people that she murdered.

She didn’t mean to kill them. She tried so fucking hard to prevent all this shit. And if she succeeded, they would still be alive, untouched by the stupid legacy.

Sam always told Tara that this legacy was because of her. But it wasn’t her big sister’s fault. She wasn’t born to kill, she was born to protect. And Tara wasn’t helping her sister. Anytime Tara tried to help she just ended up killing for people. The more people that swarmed them, the more that dropped dead.

The dead begged Tara to understand that she was the reason they were dead. That her inability to see Amber’s murderous side was the reason they all perished under her hand. She should’ve been looking more closely. She should’ve understood why Amber loved Stab so much. That Tara was the only one close to Amber to decipher their fate.

She failed to protect them. All she sees are their mutilated remains. All she can hear are their screams for help. Her hands are soaked in their blood, and Tara can never quite staunch the bleeding.

And while she suffered her friends’ anger, all she can hear is the echo of Amber’s voice, cooing to her. Whispering for her to join her. Whining for Tara to come back and be hers again. Over and over again.

Typically she was in this loop of hell, dissociating from her body. Until something or someone brings her back.

It takes days, weeks, and one time, a month. She doesn’t know how she comes back, or what prompts her back. She just returns.

But this time is different, she can instantly tell something was different, despite the fog she was in. But this time it wasn't Amber’s voice. It was softer, gentler. It begged her to wake up, to find her.

Echoing softly around her head. She stirs once realizing who it was.

Sam. Her big sister. Her love.

———

“Tara, come here sweet girl. Come back to me. You’re safe. I’m here. We’re okay my love. You are safe with me,” Sam repeated, still holding Tara gently.

Her sister’s eyes were open, but far away. Nowhere near Sam. She had noticed that Tara had been slipping away from her lately. Tara had been withering away, retreating to the shell of herself. She wasn’t drinking her morning coffee or sneaking into Sam’s bed anymore. After a few days, she noticed she had a shell of a baby sister.

She didn’t know where Tara went, or who she saw, but all she wanted to do was scream. Screaming that she understood what was happening, and how it felt. Screaming that she felt him too, and how he had her in the palm of his fist.

I see things too. I see him. I know you. Come back to me.

Stroking Tara’s cheek, she bit back tears. There was so much she wanted to say, to shake her little sister with her love. It was so frustrating not being able to fix anything that happened to her sister.

She squeezed Tara, whispering softly to her. “I hear it too. I see them too, my love. You’re not alone. I’ve got you. I’m here. I love you so fucking much. Just come back, yeah?”.

After a while of repeating it, she saw the recognition in her sister’s eyes. Tara was awake, and in Sam’s arms, clinging to her like a leech. Sam could feel the exact moment Tara came back to her body, and how her little body wracked with sobs.

Tara clung onto Sam’s shirt, sobbing. “How did you know?”.

“I see him too, Tara. I know what you see. They visit me too. You’re not alone, I promise you that”, Sam whispered firmly.

“You see…him?”

Sam tilted her head, confused. “I see Billy. Do you see people too?”.

Tara nodded, tears running freely down her face. “I see them. The dead ones. Over and over again,” she whispered, a haunted look in her eyes.

She pulled her baby sister in for a hug, kissing the side of her head. She let Tara cry on her shirt, but still kept kissing her. Pressing her love firmly into Tara's hair.

“None of it was your fault, okay? You didn’t do this to us. I promise I love you,” she said, still kissing Tara's hair.

Her baby sister just kept sobbing, her fingers tangled in Sam’s shirt.

And Sam kept letting her cry, just holding her tight. She understood it. She did.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #i love them your honor #ao3 author #my writing tag #AU: protect my heart

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handsome-edvard · 1 month

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Hot take for the Robinwest nation

I think the scene in season 1 where she gives him the puppy eyes could have been more interesting if he did stick to his firm NO. He storms off and that’s the end of that.

But what if that was just the set up?

Cut to the Robinsons scrambling to figure out how to make it work with just John’s weight in the shuttle, and Maureen is stressed but determined in her calculations, and Judy is clearly considering going with her dad when-

Enter Don West, clad in a bright orange spacesuit, swaggering into the passenger seat of the shuttle saying, “If anyone asks, I got paid for this.”

“Don?” Maureen gasps.

“A lot,” Don carries on, settling into the co-pilot station. “And if I die up there I better get a statue. My own holiday on Alpha Centauri.”

And Maureen is smiling in disbelief and John is skeptical but at a loss, and Penny and Will are relieved. Don sees all of that but he hasn’t looked at Judy. Not yet.

Thing is he didn’t see her behind him in that room when Maureen and John tried to sell him on the idea, and he told them to send him a postcard.

He’d said no because it is his life on the line too, he likes being alive, and doing the right thing does really suck.

So he doesn’t look at Judy right now as he doesn’t know what he’s going to find behind those big brown eyes that previously beseeched him to help. The ones he couldn’t stop thinking about later.

She had looked so devastated by his refusal, so vulnerable, that he is honestly not sure risking his life is enough to get her to talk to him again.

Probably for the best.

He flipped that tanker for her and he lost the money, then they lost Evan eventually. It was all for nothing. From where he’s standing, doing things for Judy doesn’t help him in any way, and that’s a problem because he can’t seem to stop. It’s entirely irrational.

He locks eyes with her later on, after various trials of his recovery time in test launches. He’s even more sluggish with each trial but it can work. They can do it. Don can’t tell what Judy is thinking and she looks away just as quickly as he does. But one thing he knows for certain is how she looks when she’s pissed and this — is not that.

Now they’re about to leave and Don needs an excuse to be near Judy one last time. Debbie clucks beside him and Don figures if he dies up there with John, he should make sure the lucky chicken is with someone else, maybe bring them a bit of extra luck like she did for him.

“I don’t want your chicken,” Judy says, when she realizes what Don has for her.

He thought she looked almost eager when he called out for her (it was endearing, really), and the way she rolls his eye at him right now is—that’s what it is.

That’s what does it for him.

The reason he’s risking even more than he already has is not because Maureen asked or because John needs someone else in the shuttle.

“And I don’t want to hurtle through space in a tin can,” Don replied, “but here we are.”

She doesn’t seem mad at him, not anymore, and that’s good enough for him. If he goes out doing something for her, it’s good enough for him.

He’s a decent person who has been dealt a bad hand and it’s still so awkward for someone like him to admit he’s a smuggler—he never liked that word—and the thing about Judy is, when she looks at him, it’s like she can see who he actually is underneath everything.

That’s why all her appeals to his better nature always succeed. It’s how the prior caught-off guard No eventually turned into a Yes.

It’s not just his life on the line, it’s her life too, and everyone else’s lives. He wants to reaffirm that he is a better man than everyone thinks, that they are past the money.

“Bye Debbie,” Don says gently.

“Don?” Judy calls after him just as he turns to leave. Her eyes are different, almost shimmering with emotion. Doing that thing from earlier but for a different reason. “Hey, try not to die up there, okay? Make sure you fight.”

There it is. Now he knows for certain they’re back on good terms. Beneath the hefty space suit, a flutter blooms in his chest.

Judy is preparing herself for the possibility that they may never see each other again. Don gives her a smile. He wants her to remember him well.

“Do my best. See you on the other side.” He winks at her and departs, hiding his own bittersweet smile.

. . .

When the shuttle explodes as it hurtles through the atmosphere Judy lets out a scream before she even knows it, and her eyes fill with tears for her Dad and for Don, because Don didn’t want to do this. She tried so hard to convince him and she thought she failed until he came back and strapped into the copilot seat.

And now he’s gone. He’s dead because of her. How can she live with that?

. . .

But then when she hears his sweetly bruised voice through the comm, thick with emotion, her eyes fill with tears again. “Are you crying?”

“No?” Don says.

“Yes you are!” Judy laughs and cries a little too, already thinking about when she’s going to see him again.

“They’re happy tears,” John confirms.

Don is so heroic. He made it. Judy is overjoyed and she can’t wait to hear his voice his person, to see the crinkles near his eyes when his smiles begin to form.

. . .

Don shuffles a few paces behind John Robinson. He knows the family is going to be all over the man, so he figures he’ll just give them some space. Although he’s been thinking about Judy he can’t let that show in front of everyone, and so when he becomes aware of her presence, Don tries his best to maneuver around everyone and maybe go see about Debbie.

But Judy pulls away from John and comes to him. Her eyes are full of admiration and pride and relief. It’s crazy how one person can make him feel like he’s a hero among men.

“Hey Doc,” Don says, watching as her arms extend. He catches her quickly, glad to see someone is happy to see him, and not just anyone — her. “That’s right Judy, I am amazing.”

Judy laughs, her arms tightening around him, basking in his warmth. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she says softly.

“Yeah. Me too.” Don pulls back to see that something is different about Judy’s demeanor — like calling her princess might do some things to her. “You good?”

Judy nods. “Never better.”

#robinwest #don x judy #Judy Robinson #Don West #lost in space fic #Don West girlies (gn) how we feeling?#I was thinking about that scene a few days ago and was honestly going to make this only a post about an alternate take on it #genuinely don’t know why it turned into a one shot but here we are 😂#despite how much I’m screaming about Star Wars the bad batch Crosshair these two are forever in my mind and heart ok 🥹🥹#yooo also I was watching Arcane for the first time and there is a very hunky Latino guy in there who looks just like Don West #I was actually screaming and shaking because he’s just too beautiful?? his name is Jayce??#anyways robinwest forever

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foundtherightwords · 1 year

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The Road Forgotten - Chapter 5

Pairing: Arthur Havisham (Dickensian) x OFC

A/N: I made Arthur bisexual and paired him with a female character in this. I know some writers have gotten flack for pairing Arthur with a female character (or reader), so if it's not your cup of tea, please walk away.

This is mostly based on the events of "Dickensian", but I've also incorporated some elements and characters from "Great Expectations". Most notably, Satis House is in Kent (as in the book) instead of in London.

Summary: A few years after his plan to swindle his sister ended in tragedy, Arthur Havisham is a shadow of a man, living in guilt and fear. When Elsie Bradford, a young woman also wronged by Compeyson, enlists Arthur's help to hunt down his former partner-in-crime, Arthur must face his demons and other strange, new feelings, to redeem himself.

Warnings: slow burn, angst, guilt, revenge, psychological trauma, mention of prostitution, mention of suicide/suicide ideations, some violence, a bit of smut

Chapter word count: 3.8k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Elsie didn't know when she first had the suspicion that they were being followed. Perhaps it was when they were outside Jaggers's office, just a tingle on her spine, on the back of her neck. During the walk to Wemmick's castle and back, she had been too distracted by Wemmick's jovial conversation, and later by Havisham's reveal, to notice it much, but after she parted with Havisham and returned to her lodgings in Southwark, it had started again. She would notice seemingly familiar figures out of the corner of her eyes, only to realize they were gone or total strangers when she looked again. She tried to tell herself that she was imagining things and that the stress of the search was getting to her, but she couldn't shake off the feeling.

And then the note arrived.

In the days leading up to the Oaks race, Elsie met with Havisham several times to discuss the note, whether it was authentic, and whether they should go to meet this mysterious informant. Havisham pointed out that Compeyson was a bettor and a gambler, as Sally had said, so it could be very well that he could be found at the races. Elsie, on the other hand, believed it was a trap, but when Havisham asked, quite rationally, who would want to trap them, she couldn't say. That would mean revealing her fear and her secret, and she didn't quite trust him enough for that.

But she had come to trust him, more than she'd expected. There was something about him that tugged at her heart, something tragic in those brown eyes that made her want to take care of him. Perhaps it was because she couldn't take care of Marianne, or perhaps it was simply the draw of their shared suffering, she wasn't sure. She only knew that when she was around Havisham, some of the horrors she felt seemed to lessen, not because he had any answers for her, but because there was comfort in knowing she wasn't the only one floundering in a void. And that was why she let him convince her to go to the Oaks. If anything happened, at least they would be together.

Elsie hid her face behind her bonnet as usual, though the place was so packed she doubted anyone could have seen her, let alone recognize her. The noises and the crowd seemed to have spilled out from the racecourse to spread all around the Downs, with sideshows of jugglers, fire eaters, and Punch and Judy, stalls and booths selling food and drink, wagons and coaches for those who couldn't afford a seat in the stands, bookmakers' posts surrounded by waving arms and upturned faces, lords and ladies ambling along in their finery, desperate bettors rushing to get a good look at the horses before placing their bets, all pulling them along like a great current, roaring with shouts and cries and calls.

Though she was glad for the anonymity the crowd was providing, Elsie had to admit it was making her slightly anxious. She saw Havisham wiping his brow with a shaking hand and knew he must be feeling the same.

"We need not stay longer than we have to," she told him, and he nodded gratefully.

They made their way to the Parade Ring, where the horses, puffing and pulling at their bridles, were being walked around. Bettors crowded around the ring three-deep, some with their eyes fixed hungrily on the horses that could mean the making or breaking of their fortunes, while others carried on clandestine conversations in whispers, exchanging some insider's knowledge.

"How would we know who the informant is?" Havisham said.

"I suppose he would find us." Elsie looked around, trying to see if she could recognize any familiar face, but everywhere was just a sea of silk and satin, nodding feathers and waving flowers and billowing ribbons, and she only ended up feeling rather underdressed in her plain black dress and bonnet.

The jockeys started to file into the ring, dressed in the owners' colors. They went to meet the horses, signifying that the race was about to begin, and still the informant was nowhere in sight. The anxious knot in Elsie's stomach grew. Had they walked into a trap? Was someone lying in wait to take advantage of the crowd and the noise and drag them away unnoticed? She had announced her intention to kill Compeyson in the Three Cripples, what if someone had overheard her and words had reached Compeyson himself? The skin on the back of her neck was crawling again, no matter which way she turned, yet she kept turning, like a caged bird, until the heels of her shoes had worn through the turf and cut into the dirt underneath. Next to her, Havisham said nothing, but he had also dug a hole in the ground with the tip of his cane.

All of a sudden, a voice said next to them, "Are you the two asking for Compeyson?"

Both jumped. A man had approached them from behind. He looked to be in his forties, muscular and hardened in his body and browned in his complexion, like a farmer or a laborer, with longish, already graying hair, and a not unfriendly face. Elsie immediately recognized him as the man she almost hit with the door outside Jaggers's office. With that memory, came another, and she also realized where she had seen him before—at the Three Cripples, the man sitting by the window, the night she saved Havisham from Bill Sikes.

"Why are you following us?" she said, at the same time that Havisham said, "Who are you?"

The man decided to answer the lady first. "I heard you two talking about Compeyson in the Three Cripples, ma'am," he said in a rough voice. "And seeing how I'm looking for that man as well, I thought I would follow. The name's Magwitch, christened Abel, sir." He took off his shabby hat and held it respectfully to his chest.

"What business do you have with Compeyson, Mr. Magwitch?" Havisham asked.

"I was his pardner," said the man, Magwitch, his head hung in shame. "In swindling, handwriting forging, stolen bank-note passing, and such-like. I knew what he was, but I thought I could make some money and get out before it got too hot. But he'd made me his tool and his slave. I was in debt to him, and under his thumb, and getting into danger for him, while he kept his legs out of the trap and let me walk into it." Elsie could feel Havisham shake, the grip on his cane tightened. Magwitch's story must be horribly familiar to him.

"But I got my missis now," Magwitch continued. "The police's breathing down our necks, so I wanted to get out for her sake. Only Compeyson has disappeared and left me to take the fall."

"How long ago was this?" Elsie asked.

The creases on Magwitch's forehead deepened as he remembered. "I went into business with him four years ago, and he's been gone these past six or seven months." It fitted with what Sally Compeyson had told them. "I first met him here at the races, which is why I asked you to come. I was hoping I'd run into some that knew him."

Elsie couldn't stand to look at the expression of hopelessness on the man's face. She had seen it too many times before, on her father, on Marianne, on Havisham, on Sally, on herself. Everywhere they looked, they only ran into more and more victims, while Compeyson remained a phantom, the only thing real about him was the pain and suffering he left behind.

"You said you have information for us," Havisham said. "What do you know?"

"Before he disappeared, Compeyson used to visit this gambling house," Magwitch said. "One of those big, grand places in St. James. Staverley's, it's called. A common, thieving tramp like myself has no chance of getting in, but I thought, perhaps, you two, being gentlefolk, might be able to..."

Elsie's heart beat faster. Another lead, something more concrete now. This hadn't been a wasted trip after all.

"Where exactly in St. James?" she asked.

"I'll give you the address." Magwitch dug in his pocket for a pencil and a scrap of paper. "It's a secret place, this house, Compeyson told me. He was always boasting to me about it. You'd need a code to get in." He scrawled a few lines on the paper in the same chicken scratch they'd seen on the note. He then held the paper out, not sure which one of them he should give it to.

Elsie took the paper and tucked it into her reticule. "Thank you," she said. "This could be a great help."

"Good luck to you, ma'am, and to you, sir," Magwitch said. "I hope you find him. And if you do, please leave me a message at the Three Cripples. Old Silas knows me." He put his hat back on, and his face hardened. "I know you both have your accounts to settle with him. My only wish is that you leave me his skull, so I can crack it like the claw of a lobster." Having uttered those ferocious words, he nodded at them and walked off.

"Poor man," Elsie said, watching him go. "I know he entered his partnership with Compeyson knowingly, but I couldn't help feeling sorry for him."

"Compeyson has a way of pulling people in," Havisham said. "By the time you realize you're in a trap, it's too late to get out." His eyes were fixed on the receding figure of Magwitch while he was lost in his own thoughts. Again, Elsie wanted to ask what Compeyson had done to him, but she knew better than to open up old wounds.

"Well, at least we have another place to—" she began, only to trail off as she felt the same prickling sensation on her neck again. It had vanished while they were talking to Magwitch, and she had assumed it was because Magwitch was the one following them. But now it was back, and more pronounced than ever.

She whirled around, and her heart caught in her throat. Striding toward them, from the direction of the grandstand, were two men. One was as tall as a tower, made even taller by his stovepipe hat, his features obscured by the cloud of tobacco smoke hanging over his face. The other one was shorter, almost comically so when placed next to the tower. They were still far enough for Elsie to not see his face clearly, but she was sure she would find a scar running diagonally from his forehead to his chin, across a milky eye, not much different from his remaining eye, which was of a pale gray and slightly protruding, always staring, looking more blind than the blind eye itself. She knew those men. Knew them very well.

Havisham must have noticed her going pale, because she heard his worried voice by her ear, saying, "Miss Bradford? What's the matter?" But she couldn't move, having been rooted to the spot by fear, like a rabbit hypnotized by the basilisk stare.

A cry went up, "The horses have started!", and the crowd rushed toward the course, hoping to get a good position along the rails. Elsie found herself being swept along like a leaf that had fallen into the river. She tried to plant her feet, to resist the tide, but it continued to push her forward, toward the two men who had yet to see her, but would, very soon, and when they did, it would be all over for her...

Someone shoved at her back, and Elsie stumbled. Just as she was about to be swallowed up by the crowd, a hand grabbed hers, pulling her back, and she found herself in the arms of Arthur Havisham. For a moment, they stood facing each other, holding on to each other, gasping, while the current of race-goers continued to surge around them like a flash flood. Then Elsie remembered the threat behind her. Taking Havisham's hand, she wove through the crowd, ducked behind the Parade Ring, and found their way across the heath, away from the racecourse, back to the town of Epsom.

It wasn't until they were well away from the Epsom Downs that she dared to look behind her. The two men were nowhere to be seen. But she knew she had not imagined them. Had they followed her here, or had their presence been a mere coincidence? And if they had followed her, was it her alone, or did they know about Havisham as well?

"What—in God's name—is—going—on?!" Havisham panted. "Why are we running?"

Elsie realized she was still clasping his hand. She quickly let it go. "I'm being followed."

"By whom?"

She briefly considered telling him the truth, and decided on a half-truth instead. "I've made some... enemies upon leaving Mrs. Hill's," she said. "And now they're after me." There was no need for him to know the details.

To Havisham's credit, he seemed curious but didn't demand elaboration. He only asked, "Are they dangerous?"

She gave a short laugh. "Yes, very."

"So what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. It is too big of a risk for me to go back to Southwark."

Havisham looked at her for a while longer, concern in his eyes. "Do they know about me?"

That was what Elsie had been asking herself as well. "Have you seen two men around?" she asked. "One very tall, wearing a stovepipe hat and always smoking a cheroot, known as the Chimney, the other short, scarred, and has only one good eye, called Cyclops."

Havisham thought, then shook his head.

"Are you sure?" Elsie insisted.

"Quite sure."

She let out a more relaxed breath and sank onto the grass bank of the road, exhausted with nerves rather than with physical fatigue. Havisham sat down next to her. "You could... you could stay with me," he offered.

Elsie slowly turned to him. He was looking down, seemingly intent on a clump of buttercup flowers by the side of the road. A ladybug was struggling to gain its footing on a petal. Havisham reached out with his gloved hand and gently nudged the bug back to safety. Then he lifted his head to return her gaze. "I'm not trying to take advantage of you," he said, his face slightly pink.

Elsie almost laughed at the idea of the poor man, who was afraid of his own shadow, taking advantage of her as if she was some helpless damsel, but she realized that would be unkind, and stopped herself.

"I simply thought it would be safer," he went on. "They would look for a woman living alone, not a man and a woman living together..."

And they would not think to look for her in St. Giles, a mere stone's throw from Covent Garden. And the Rookery would be the perfect place to get lost in. The more Elsie thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea.

"Besides, I still owe you twenty pounds," Havisham said with an embarrassed smile. "This could go toward repaying it. I could divide up the room, give you some privacy. You could take the bed—"

Elsie shook her head, cutting him off. "I don't sleep. A chair will be sufficient."

"Ever?"

"I was in a bawdyhouse for eight years, Mr. Havisham," she said with a smile to lessen the bleakness of her words. "I learned to get by on very little sleep."

***

In the end, Elsie still had to send Havisham to Southwark for a few of her things. She didn't have a lot, and everything was always packed and ready for her to leave at a moment's notice, so at least it should be quick. She knew it would be a huge risk if Cyclops and the Chimney were watching the place, but she reasoned that if they had known where she was staying, they would have taken her already. Still, it was a few agonizing hours while she awaited Havisham's return.

It was nearly midnight by the time he came back, bearing the two bags that contained all of her worldly possessions. Well, not exactly all of them - her money was safely entrusted to a bank, where a monthly withdrawal was made to pay for Marianne's keep. But other than that, everything she owned was in these bags. Havisham stared as she unpacked her books and her knitting. "This is what I risk my life to bring all the way from Southwark?" he asked incredulously.

"Not quite," she said. She wasn't going to take out her father's pistol, hidden at the bottom of one of the bags. It was the most important thing of all. The only reason she didn't take it everywhere with her was that it was too big to fit into her reticule.

Havisham found a length of rope and put it up to divide the room into two. He gave Elsie a sheet to drape on it as a curtain. She took the half closer to the window and move the chair and the table into it, giving him the bed and the fireplace.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" he asked.

"Yes. You have been more than kind."

There was a slightly uncomfortable pause as neither knew what to say or do, then Havisham mumbled, "Well, good night then," and disappeared behind the curtain. Elsie saw his silhouette moving about for a short while, then his candle was snuffed out, and all was quiet. She put out her own candle as well and took out her knitting. She didn't need light to knit. From outside, she heard the night watchman call the hour, one o'clock, then two. She finished the pair of mittens she had been knitting for Marianne and started on something new, she didn't quite know what yet.

She had taken up knitting in her years at Mrs. Hill's. One of the other maids had taught her, and she liked that it kept her hands busy and her mind comfortably blank, during the nights when the hours stretched endlessly and she couldn't sleep. But that night, her mind couldn't stay blank. She thought about the scrap of paper Magwitch had given her, the gambling house where Compeyson might be hiding in at this very moment, and wondered how long she would have to stay here until Cyclops and the Chimney got tired of waiting and gave up the search. She thought about Havisham and why she had agreed to stay with him. If it was just a matter of evading Cyclops and the Chimney, she could have easily gotten a room for herself, either here in St. Giles or somewhere far outside the city, but the truth of the matter was, she didn't want to be alone. Havisham was the only choice. If he was foolish enough to try anything, her knitting needles were sharp, and her knife was sharper. But she knew he wouldn't, and not just because she had caught him with a man. The memory brought a flush to her face, though she didn't know why. She hadn't batted an eye the moment she walked into the room that day, so why did she suddenly feel embarrassed now? And then there was that moment at the Parade Ring, when he had held her in his surprisingly strong arms, against the crowd...

It must be close to three o'clock when Elsie heard a whimper from Havisham's side of the room. She had dozed off a little, curled up in the chair, and the whimper woke her up. As she listened, it turned into a moan. "No, no..." he was saying. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Please, I'm sorry..."

Elsie got up and went to the curtain. "Mr. Havisham?" she called. "Is everything all right?"

There was no answer, but the moan turned into a shout. "Don't come closer! Don't put it on me! No! No!"

She pushed the curtain aside. Havisham was tossing and writhing in bed, in the throes of a nightmare. After a moment's hesitation, Elsie put a dressing gown over her chemise and went to him. "Mr. Havisham?" He didn't wake. "Mr. Havisham? Arthur?" The moaning got louder, more pained, while he gripped and twisted the sheet as if to rip it apart. She reached out a tentative hand and shook his shoulder, lightly at first, then more firmly.

He woke with a start. He twisted his head to look at her, then his eyes went wide and he bolted up with a scream. "No! Don't come any closer! I said I was sorry! Get away! Get away!"

The horrors of the nightmare were still on him. "Calm down, Mr. Havisham," Elsie said, taking hold of his flailing arms. "It's me. It's Elsie. You were dreaming."

He stared at her. Some of the wild look drained from his eyes, but he was still shivering dreadfully. "...Miss Bradford?"

"Yes. Go back to sleep. It was only a dream."

He clutched the sheet to his chest, shaking his head. "No, no, it was no dream. She really was here. She was shaking the shroud at me. I saw her!"

"Who?" Elsie asked.

He didn't answer, only gripping the sheet more tightly. "She was standing at the corner of the bed. I saw her! She was awfully mad! There was blood over her heart! She kept shaking the shroud at me! She was going to put it on me, and then I'd be done for!"

He was raving again. Elsie found a match, lit the candle, and lifted it to illuminate every corner of the room. "See? There's no one here. Only me."

She moved away, intending to push the curtain to the side to show him the corners of her side as well, but he grabbed her wrist with a desperate plea, "No! Don't leave me! She'll come back!"

Elsie turned to him. With those huge brown eyes popping out of his chalk-white face and those quivering lips, he reminded her so much of Marianne that her heart wrung with pain. She took his hands again and sat down next to him on the bed.

"Please, hold me," he begged. "She was going to throw the shroud over me. Don't let her lift me up to get it around me. Keep me down. Please."

She couldn't understand his words, but she understood his fear. Lying down next to him, she put an arm around him and brushed back his damp curls, trying to still his shaking. "Shh," she murmured. "I'm here. Go to sleep. I'll keep you down." He kept his back curved against her at first, but gradually, as his trembling quieted, he turned and wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her belly, and slept.

Chapter 6

#arthur havisham #dickensian #arthur havisham fic #arthur havisham x ofc #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn

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axvwriter · 2 months

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Tsum-Tsums Design Observations

So I looked through the Tsums fandom page for the tsum mobile game. I did this as I wanted to look at all the different type of tsums to see what the general rules are for how tsums look.

There does seem to be some rough guidelines, some ignored for stylistic choice. Some of the rules that sometimes aren't followed, I can't really tell why. Perhaps it's just the artist behind the design.

Like one common rule seems to be that eyes are just dots. The exception is sometimes stylistic like when it's a major part of the character's design like Pleakly from Lilo and Stitch or like Perry the Platypus from Phineas and Ferb. Part of Perry's look when not an agent is to look in opposite directions which is a bit difficult to show with no whites of the eyes, the sclera. Some that I don't understand is Timon from Lion King. I don't think the sclera is that big of a major identifying detail about Timon and the Pumba tsum has the usual dot eyes.

There is at least one tsum that has normal eyes, The White Queen from Alice in Wonderland (Live-action Tim Burton directed one). It just feels cursed compared to all the other tsums. There's also Mushu from Mulan who has cartoony eyes going on which seems weird as his eyes weren't drawn like that in the movie. That just seems like a random design detail randomly thrown onto him. It's like the Sonic the Hedgehog cartoons eye shape. Which works for the Cars tsums and for Goofy since the originals have similar shapes. So the exception to dot eyes seems to be if the original has an iconic look associated to that part, though sometimes it's broken for no clear reason? I can only guess artistic choice.

Another common rule seems to be that tsums don't have mouths. The only ones that break that exception and make sense to me are ones with beaks, Pacman, and that one dog from the Coco movie. I haven't seen the movie (though I do intend to watch it some day) but I recall from the trailers it always has its tongue sticking out. So that tsum having a tongue makes sense.

If the character has buck-teeth then they're given mouths. Or if they're like Jack Skellington and Oogie Boogie, both from The Nightmare Before Christmas, then that also makes sense as they do have unique mouths as well. The ones that don't really make sense to me is when there's a random smile? Judy Hopps, Zootopia, has a smile while Nick Wilde, also from Zootopia, has no mouth. I don't usually think of smiling as a unique character identification trait unless it's perhaps that the character can only smile.

Another common rule seems to be a round dot for the nose. Yet this is rather flexible, usually changing for animals. Some characters get a bit more shape to their noses. Though I have noticed that if the original design of a character has a sharp-pointed nose, that's rounded out. At least, that's the case for Pinocchio. Of course some have no noses like the fish tsums.

Hair and other details seem rather free. Just make it look like felt. They can have hats, glasses, earrings, and they do have ears. Usually very small and tiny unless the character's original design doesn't have usual human ears. Heck they even take into account if the character has hearing aids. Carl from Up had what I thought was a dark hole on his ear, but then I realized that wasn't depth design but a hearing aid since his other ear doesn't match. A few rare tsums will even hold an item. Like Maleficient from Sleeping Beauty holds a small staff.

The main major rules seem to be that they must look like they're made of felt and have a round pill-shape.

Oh and have a photo of some of the most unusual tsums I spotted and put together in ms paint.

The top left is the Pixar Lamp. I know Yzma's, from Emperor's New Groove, eyelashes are a big detail, but couldn't they still work with dot eyes? I don't know what's going on with Sully, Monster's Inc, as he looks a bit badly patch-worked? Interesting that the Mirror of Darkness from Snow White has a tsum. That basically breaks the common shape. The crab from Moana is the biggest violation of breaking the usual shapes. That red guy on the top right is Sebastian from The Little Mermaid. Need I say more?

The pink one is one of the little oysters from Alice in Wonderland (animated) movie. The one with the regular human eyes is The White Queen from Alice in Wonderland (live-action) movie.

I might redraw some of these in what I view as the rough guidelines from tsums just to see if I can understand the reasoning of why they're so different.

Have a screenshot of the most botched tsum.

This is supposed to be Wall-E. Wall-E isn't yellow. Like they didn't even try to get the details on his body, like perhaps the top part of his square body could be what's seen behind his head-eyes. I would think brown for a main color, not emoji yellow. Just isn't right.

#long post #tsum tsums #tsum tsum #tsum #disney tsums #rip smh walle #tempted to send some of the sillier looking ones to people without context like the ant from Bug's Life #maybe even send Jimney Cricket and see if people recognize that it's Jimney #theres some masquerade tsums and they hold tiny felt masks that could make cover a quarter of their face #anyway i got to redesign bobo tsum to have her hammer #the idea of some having an iconic item just well it would mean bobo tsum would have hammer #theres perry tsums but no phineas and ferb tsums #tbf those kids have very uniquely shaped heads that wouldnt work with tsums pill shapes #but they didnt seem to care about that for the shiny crab

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mauvecityextra · 12 days

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Not Just A Party

I never went to college, but I lives with my friends who did. It made it so I didn't have to attend any classes, but I still got to enjoy the lifestyle. We had a few folks over to our house one night to party with. A few turned into a lot more, and before we knew it there was a full on house party. I was getting a break from all of the festivities downstairs. When I need to get away, I like to climb out and window and onto the shed roof. That's exactly where I was when she was trying to get away for a breather too. Judy, a cute little blonde girl with nice curves. We've been friends for a while now, and she figured I'd be up there to join.

Some time went by, and we had been chatting. It was a bit cool out that night, and she was sitting close to me for warmth. She had on thin black leggings and a black crop top to match. Her pointy little nipples were erect from the cool breeze. She had been talking for a bit. but all I could do was look over her. Before I realized, she had stopped talking and was looking at me with a slightly confused look. I didn't want her to think I was just eye her up and not listening. So, with the help of some liquid encouragement, I leaned down and kissed her on her. Luckly, she kissed me back without protesting. Kissing turned into me pulling her onto my lap. Her sitting on my lap turned into her grinding. Her top came up and my face found her perky little tits. Sucking, nibbling, and squeezing, I just encouraged her drunken grinding.

"Can we go inside?" she asked. I could feel her cold skin covered in goosebumps. I didn't need to answer before we both were climbing back into my room. Clothes flew off faster than I could lock the door. I turned around to see her standing there, naked and crossing her arms shyly.

"Holy shit." All I could mustered to say. I couldn't wait any longer. I picked her up by her ass. She wrapped her cold legs around me as I carried her to the bed and laid her on her back. My kisses moved from her lips down to her tits, stomach, and to her wet pussy. Her legs rested on my shoulders as I worked her clit.

"Oh god. Please don't stop" The only thing she could say past her moans. Her encouragement only made me hungrier. I lapped her up as my thumb pushed softly in and out of her opening. "FUCK!" The last thing I heard before she dowsed my chin.

"A little warning would have been nice," I joke as I kiss my way back up her gasping chest.

"I didn't know it was going to happen" I rubbed myself on her before pushing just past her folds. Both gasping and my eyes widen with the feeling of how warm she is. Her head pushes back into the pillows as I work myself deeper with each thrust. I kneel upright and hold her legs apart by under her thighs. She starts groping herself and smiling as I drive faster and deeper.

"Holy shit. You're so fucking tight" My fingers dig harder into her thighs. I push deep but hold back just from completely filling her. Her eyes role back as she gets closer to another orgasm.

"Please. I need to cum" She gasps.

"Go ahead. let it out" Almost as soon as I can say it, she's clenching and gushing on me. I can't help but to lean down and bite her neck. I can feel her clench tighter.

"You need to stop" Her hands push on my midsection. It takes everything in me to not pound harder into her.

"What's wrong" I ask as I pull out.

"Nothing. I just need to move." I lean back a little, thinking she just needs to shift. Her legs swing in front of me, and she preps her ass up in front of me. I lock onto her tight little butthole before seeing her looking back at me over her shoulder. "Is this okay?"

"Fucking absolutely!" I hold myself and push back into her. My hands squeeze and spank her soft ass. I drive hard and deep into her again, still keeping from pushing all in.

"Shit Mic. Are you close? We need to get back to the party."

"I'm closer than you'd think." She smirks and starts pushing back into my thrusts. I now hit hard against her cervix each time I sink in. "Fuck"

"I almost there. Don't stop now." I know I can't hold back any longer. So, I push my thumb into her ass. "FUCK!" She yelps and pushes back into me even harder. Her hand reaches under and massages my balls. I push firmly against her cervix and drain myself. Her fingers massage every last drop from me before I sit on my heals. Cum slowly drips from her as she falls face down.

"Fuck me. Your pussy is too fucking good." I try catching my breathe. She moans and turns onto her back.

"I don't think I can handle going back down there" She looks between her legs at me.

"We don't have to." I tap her leg to slide over, and I lay next to her. She sits up slowly. Sitting there for a few seconds before leaning over and softly licking me clean. I twitch and pulse against her tongue, but I let her do her work.

"We taste so good" She pers into my ear as she kisses the side of my face.

We end up getting dressed and heading back down to the party. The Night goes on and we act like nothing has happened. At least until everyone started leaving. She wasn't ready to go back to her dorm, so I let her stay in my room. I had a futon, and it wasn't out of the norm for someone to come crash on it. The only thing was that neither of us would be sleeping on it that night.

#story time

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misiwrites · 1 year

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Mayblade Day 4

[previous: chapter 1 & 2 | chapter 3]

CHAPTER 4 prompt: sci-fi characters: hiromi, emily, ayaka, kyouju, max, mao pairings: ---

Just to please Emily, Hiromi had agreed to go check out the tennis club. She made no promises of joining, but they headed out to the courts together nevertheless. For being a relatively small school, Bey High had a surprisingly extensive sports park, and the club catalogue boasted everything from cycling to swimming and indoor surfing, somehow.

In the course of one afternoon of following her friend around, Hiromi had been introduced to Emily’s acquaintances in the baseball, basketball, and football clubs, all of whom felt it necessary to give her a robust sales pitch about their respective sports and club activities (each of which was the best, according to them). She’d done a bit of basketball in middle school but certainly didn’t have the confidence to jump in to play with the likes of Eddy and Rick – there was no separate team for girls, as there were none in their club – so she let them all politely know she wasn’t interested.

“How do you know all those guys, anyway?” she asked once she and Emily were back at the tennis courts. “I didn’t know you’re the type to hang out with… well… jocks like that.”

“We’re all in the enhancement program. We usually hang out when the tests are being taken.”

“Oh, that weird science stuff?”

Emily shot her a dangerous look. “It’s not weird! It’s very good. We get a lot of useful information out of it. The program has already helped me improve my training habits.”

Hiromi vividly remembered Emily herself calling it weird, back when the physics professor had pitched the state-funded, science-based enhancement program in the beginning of the semester. The name alone was fishy as hell.

“Are you sure you’re not on track to steroids or something?” she asked.

“Oh please, we’re not doing drugs or anything,” Emily huffed. “It’s about collecting performance data. I would trust Mrs. Judy with my life – she’s a remarkable scientist.”

Emily rarely praised the teaching staff, so this was borderline alarming behavior from her. Hiromi side-eyed the ginger but said nothing more.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. With the void in her daily life left by the astrology club, Hiromi ended up taking Ayaka’s offer to go check out the engineering club.

Having witnessed the sports club facilities and now this, she had to admit that Emily had been on to something with her hints about their lack of proper clubbing spaces. The engineering club operated in the electronics laboratory and had full access to all its resources, resulting in the room looking like the research floor of some hi-tech facility. Hiromi hadn’t had any idea the other clubs had such lavish surroundings.

The members present were working in pairs by the lab tables. One pair, Hiromi recognized as friends of Salima and Kane, a couple of boys from 1-B whose names she’d never bothered to catch. The other pair, in the very back of the room, also had familiar voices that she couldn’t quite place as she walked closer, following in Ayaka’s footsteps.

“And these two are the real sci-fi boys,” Ayaka presented. “I don’t know what they think they’re making, but it sure is something.”

So it seemed; the lab table was littered with equipment and evidently 3D printed mockups that Hiromi couldn’t even begin to describe, as well as three computer screens flashing with graphs, code editors, and something that had to do with the measurement equipment plugged in with half a dozen cables crisscrossing across the table. They really were actually creating something, not just sitting around reading books like she’d been doing all semester.

The boys – who even wore lab coats, for immersion, she assumed – were roused out of focus by Ayaka’s announcement and wheeled around in their chairs to look at their interrupters. It was only then, Hiromi realized, that she’d seen these people around because they were Takao’s friends; the shorter one who now lifted his enormous, round glasses to his forehead, Saien Manabu who didn’t live too many blocks away from her house; and the other, a blond boy with a thoroughly goofy face and a pale nose covered in freckles, turned to study Hiromi with curiosity.

“Hey there,” the blond gave a cheery greeting. “Another friend of Aya?”

Hiromi, troubled as to how exactly answer this, was saved by Ayaka: “Tachibana came to take a look at our club. Now’s your chance to give the pitch of your life and get someone uninterested to join, Max.”

“Well, I’m not going to force anyone, if she really isn’t interested. I’m Max and that’s Professor.” He nodded at the shorter boy.

“You are in Takao’s class, are you not?” Manabu – or, apparently, Professor – immediately surveyed.

“Um, yes I am. So what are you working on? Looks complex.” She was eager to not let the conversation steer towards him.

“Oh, just a little something… It is for an innovation contest so we cannot reveal too much.”

“Don’t want anybody stealing our secrets,” Max added with a finger over his goofy mouth.

All the parts were out in the open here, though. Not that they made much sense to Hiromi like this, scattered across the table; there were several octagon-shaped pieces with a hole in the middle, as if frames to something. Judging by the breadboard and electronics measurement equipment, they were working on something powered by electricity.

“Are you looking for a club to join?” Professor then inquired. For such a tiny guy, he had an awfully mature and formal appearance, sporting a shirt-and-tie attire under the oversized lab coat.

“Not really… or, kind of.” Was she? She could as well have been.

“If you like comics or games more than building things, I am the president of a couple of those. They are very laid-back clubs, you can come over to read or play something as you wish, if you join that is.”

“Thanks…” She did like some comics and games… but the idea of going to a clubroom to do one among strangers instead of in the safety of her own room, not so much.

Hiromi did give it a minute of serious consideration, however, until a shouting voice cut right through her train of thought and left her perplexed.

“Aaaaayyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!”

Something very pink had just emerged into the electronics lab. A girl with bright pink hair and baby pink clothes barreled herself in Ayaka’s direction, which also happened to be Hiromi’s general direction.

“You’re early,” Ayaka commented, her cool demeanor the opposite of this bubblegum pink burst of energy.

“Hi, Mao,” Max greeted the new girl, though with more politeness than cheer, Hiromi noted. Professor had slipped his glasses back on and was back to work already in silence.

“Hi, mayo boy. Eh, I’m like, ten minutes early – so what? I can see you’re not doing anything, anyway.”

“I was showing our club to Tachibana.” Ayaka gestured at Hiromi, and she was quickly beginning to feel like a test subject presented to each human in turns. “She’s looking for one to join.”

“Please, just call me Hiromi,” she managed to rectify, finally.

Mao gave her a scrutinizing look from head to toe. Or, at least, it felt scrutinizing to Hiromi, who felt so very plain compared to this eccentric girl with a cat ear hairtie in her head. “I see! So, you thinking of joining the engineering club?”

“Erm… Probably not. I don’t think this is my thing…”

“Well, if you wanna try something completely different, I’m in the wushu club.” Mao must have noted the thinly veiled horror on Hiromi’s face, for she added: “Oh, don’t worry, there’re no requirements for joining – if you’re a total beginner, we’ll teach you the basics of whatever art interests you. It’s fun! And you’ll learn it fast, I promise. Anyway, Aya, I’m starving! Let’s get going already!”

With that, the pink whirlwind grabbed the short-haired girl, and then they were both gone.

#mayblade #mayblade 2023 #my writing #fic update

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dweemeister · 3 months

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Sending out Oscar nomination eve vibes

First things first, as a fan of the human chaos that is the Academy Awards, viewing films primarily through the prism of awards is one of the most myopic ways to look at movies. That there is a whole sub-industry of journalism dedicated to awards horse racing and campaigning never ceases to amaze me - even though I must admit to consuming said journalism (or "journalism").

Going into and out of a screening with "I wonder what this could get nominated for?" as the first thing in your mind is not how anyone should absorb and analyze a film. Awards are for the industry, sure, but they're also markers of taste for a certain group of people at a moment in time. They're good entryways into budding film buffs. Awards are fun; don't try to get too emotionally involved in them.

Okay, putting that aside and fully realizing some of the below will sound hypocritical, I begin with some extremely unlikely stuff I would like to see tomorrow morning, but probably won't happen at all...

That despite the highly questionable 2017 move to take away sole nominating power for Best Animated Feature from the Short Films and Feature Animation Branch (I'm guessing the Academy at-large got sick and tired of the category featuring films they hadn't seen/refused to see), I hope those who opted into voting on Best Animated Feature nominees looked beyond the major American and Japanese animation studios. Did Robot Dreams catch their eye (this was a major hit in its native Spain and France)? Maybe Perlimps (directed by Ale Abreu, who did Boy & the World)? Ernest & Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia (which I admit I truly enjoyed, although I still hold the original in much higher esteem)? My Love Affair with Marriage? What about The Peasants (directed by the same team who gave us Loving Vincent)? I hope they took the time to give those films a watch, their due justice. If they don't get nominated because they didn't deserve, that's okay. But I want voters (and everyone out there) to realize the world of animation is much more than Disney/Pixar/DreamWorks/Illumination/Netflix/Sony and Studio Ghibli/Toei/Toho Company. There is so much more out there.

That Justine Triet is nominated for Best Director for Anatomy of a Fall. Give us Milo Machado Graner as a Supporting Actor nominee, too.

Another child actor in the acting categories, please. No one pins a 30-year-old Asian American male as a fan of Are You There God? It's Me Margaret. I read the book (one of the few major Judy Blume books I had never read) last year, and adored the film adaptation. But, in realization that I don't think the film is good enough for Best Picture... how about a Best Actress nod for Abby Ryder Fortson? She embodies Margaret beautifully, and strengthens this adaptation with a mature performance. She deserves it solely for escaping the Ant-Man series and not being involved in Quantumania. On another note, Rachel McAdams has taken all of the headlines for Margaret. She's fine, but I completely disagreed with her character's expanded presence in the film, as it took away from Margaret (Blume's book is entirely from Margaret's perspective).

Dominic Sessa. Supporting Actor for The Holdovers. Make it happen, please.

I haven't seen it. And this is a bit self-serving, professionally. But as the Artistic Director for Viet Film Fest, if Trần Anh Hùng's The Taste of Things is indeed deserving of a Best International Feature nomination (which, by looking at reviews, surely sounds like the case), I hope that voters do not punish the film for taking France's spot in Best International Feature instead of Anatomy of a Fall. I think the French believed that The Taste of Things represented French culture better than Anatomy of a Fall, and wanted to spread the love among potential Oscar contenders. Nevertheless, there's been a kerfuffle since France announced Trần Anh Hùng's film as their International Feature pick. Let's put that controversy aside, please.

That actors reward performances that are "showy" and nuanced. I feel like the Discourse over the last two years have been to reward maximalist performances in maximalist movies.

That voters in the music branch stop giving into the trends of amelodic, atonal, and minimalistic film scores (I'll even thrown in film scores that prioritize a "vibe" or "beat" over anything else, truly any score that is meant "not to be noticed"). We're in a moment now where younger directors (and certain auteurs who clearly have limited knowledge in the power of great melodic film music) are telling their composers - some of whom are incredibly capable artists, others not so much - that melody is old-fashioned, has no place in modern "realistic" cinema, and belongs only in musicals and animation. As a pianist/violinist who isn't that good at all and was classically trained through high school, this hurts deep. Don't be so afraid of a gorgeous melody and what it can provide to even movies aiming for realism. If the reactions as I was leaving The Zone of Interest and Poor Things the other nights were any indication, I'm becoming a endangered minority. Perhaps they should ship me to a museum so I can listen to my outdated film scores.

Am I still hurting from the sonic trash that was All Quiet's Best Original Score win last year? You bet.

Godzilla Minus One shocks us all and gets a nomination. Somewhere. Anywhere. Visual Effects? Yes please. Best Picture? Ehh, probably not, but if somehow made it, this kaiju fan would be very happy.

Okay, now for more likely things that'll happen. Some vibes need to go that way too, even if I'm a little more comfortable about the following.

That Killers of the Flower Moon can weather what appears to be a lack of support outside the United States - I get it, many non-Americans are tired of American cinema's racial reckonings on-screen - and solidly find its nominations for Picture, Director, Actress (Gladstone), Supporting Actor (De Niro), Screenplay, Cinematography, Editing, Costume Design, Production Design. Anything beyond that is a luxury to me - I waffle on the deservedness of Leonardo DiCaprio's performance and I disapprove recent trends in how AMPAS perceives what constitutes a worthy score.

That even though I personally don't think Barbie deserves to be nominated for any of the big awards, I hope it does well in the technical categories it deserves (Cinematography, Editing, Song, Costume Design, Production Design, and Visual Effects). Even if it gets nominated for Best Picture (which I think is a 90% chance right now), I don't mind at all.

Past Lives love. Celine Song? Greta Lee? Teo Yoo?

I think American Fiction is dancing 50/50 on all of its potential nominations right now. At least get Jeffrey Wright in for Actor and Cord Jefferson for Screenplay. Picture and anything else a luxury.

That the Short Film and Feature Animation Branch doesn't confuse professionally edited home movies with a worthy documentary short. Please stop.

For the record, yours truly is on Team Killers of the Flower Moon. And right now? I'm expecting the film to perform like Scorsese's The Irishman (2019) on Oscar night.

There's... a major contender of a film or two out there I'd like to see not do so well on nominations because I did not care for them (Oppenheimer is not one of them, as I think it mostly deserves the nominations that appear to be headed its way... winning those boatload of nominations, though? hmm). Those one or two films shall go nameless so as not to jinx anything. But perhaps you already parsed them out by reading the above.

#Oscars #Academy Awards #96th Academy Awards #AMPAS #Killers of the Flower Moon #Oppenheimer #Past Lives #The Zone of Interest #American Fiction #The Holdovers #Barbie #Anatomy of a Fall #The Taste of Things #Robot Dreams #Perlimps #Ernest and Celestine: A Trip to Gibberitia #My Love Affair with Marriage #The Peasants

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winderlylandchime · 5 months

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1/2 and we are now at 5x11 and he is so fucking happy because Brian said i love you and they are back together. He’s smiling so big its actually hilarious.

And the scene opens with Brian at church ‘what the fuck is going on? WHO FUCKING DIED?! DID THEY KILL MIKE? I mean he was an annoying little shit but that’s a bit much. WHY IS BRIAN IN A COFFIN?! WHAT THE FUCK WAS- oh thank fuck its a dream. A horrible one at that.’ ‘Has Brian not been home to shower, fucking hell, i feel so fucking bad for him. Ted is fully in survival mode huh?’ ‘Blondie is at the hospital! Wheres Brian! I need the happy couple back on the screen. Fucking hell Emy is scared now. Okay so Mike is alive and well, good. Now back to Brian and Justin’ And we are at the scene with Brian and Cynthia now ‘i fucking love these two. Look how he cares for everyone. He has a big fucking heart and it pisses me off that people pretend he doesn’t.’ And WE ARE AT THE FIRST PROPOSAL SCENE!!! *said with huge excitement and then it died down* ‘BRIAN AND JUSTIN AT HIS umm place…i love when they mock each other. Ahhh young LOVE. Country manor? Since when has that been a dream? I love seeing Brian around Justin when he works. I have no clue why but I do.’ Brian asks if he heard what he said to him last night ‘yes, i did Brian! Over the sound of my own tears but i heard it! *he paused it RIGHT BEFORE THE PROPOSAL AND I WANTED TO SCREAM* why the fuck is blondie being dismissive..bro that’s not what i wrote in the script inside my little brain *plays ep and Brian propose* um W- WHAT. *he moves forward while sitting as if he heard wrong and then pauses it when Brian talks about his dream* i hate *waves his cast to the tv and scoffs* but i also hate how everyone keeps doubting his change. Like bro let that man change. But also huh *plays ep* NOT WITHOUT HIM! So wait, hold the fuck up. Brian says he loves him. And they kiss. And he..*scoffs again* proposes. And then Blondie just says thanks and thats it? So THEYRE NOT TOGETHER?’ And we are with Ted and Brian at the club ‘i actually get why he doesn’t wanna reopen the club again. It is kinda weird in a way..i dont know. Oh Ted is not in a good shape. Whats going on with everyone’ We are now at the scene with Mel, Linds and Justin and mel says its good they realized what they had before its too late ‘PLEASE TELL ME THAT THIS MAKES BLONDIE RETHINK SOME STUFF…i still hate the..you know what? Im gonna be quiet and not judge. Just go back to Brian’ and we are at the scene with Jen and Brian ‘JEN AND BRIAN!! MY FAVORITE PEOPLE! FINALLY! (She says the judy line) i fucking love this woman! And look so does Brian! They shouldve had more scenes together, this wouldve been amazing (jen says he wants to sell the loft) WHAT?! Why? So not panic then why the fuck is he selling? What is happening? (Brian tells about the proposal) oh my god. HE TOLD HER? Holy fucking shit. *starts laughing cause jen offers pills* i love her but im sure he has some stronger shit in his drawer. OF COURSE SHES SORRY HES NOT HER SON IN LAW! This is the mother he shouldve had. Remember their first scene? I love them’ The scene with Brian and Ben happens ‘man fuck every single one of those protestors. Go to hell. BEAT HIS ASS BEN! I cannot believe that Brian is the collected and calm one. My boy is growing.’ ‘Ah fuck thats why Ted is acting this way. Poor fucking guy. But thats not your fault, man. Hate to say it Teddy but the dude is right, youre not god..that dude sucks’ Brian says he calls him Zen Ben ‘i call you boring. Once again Brian is better than me. It’s still fuck Mike tho *looks at me* what? i can say it now, he’s alive’ Mel and Linds talk about Canada ‘what the fuck is she on? Does she think that this type of shit won’t happen anywhere else?’ And we are at the second proposal now: ‘where the fuck are they going? I hate this car. (It shows the house and he is suspicious and brian says ‘we do’) WE? since when do we speak French? Fuck is he talking about we? THATS WHY HE SOLD THE LOFT?! Wait he bought this for Justin?’ *he pauses tv and stares at me and then just goes back to watching*

Country manor? Since when has that been a dream? RIGHT!?! What is up with Justin this fucking season? Since when does he want to live in the middle of nowhere and be married with children? SINCE WHEN? (And also Brian told him since Day 1 that was never going to happen)

I love seeing Brian around Justin when he works. I have no clue why but I do. YES (also this inspires me for my fic ;) )

Brian asks if he heard what he said to him last night ‘yes, i did Brian! Over the sound of my own tears but i heard it! THE I LOVE YOU HEARD ROUND THE WORLD

i hate *waves his cast to the tv and scoffs* but i also hate how everyone keeps doubting his change. <- Yes on both counts. Like everyone doubts his change so he reverts to what he’s always been and then everyone says “see, it wasn’t real.” But also WTF is this sudden focus on marriage? I hate it. It makes no sense. Leave Ben and Mikey to be the happy married boring couple and let Brian and Justin stay themselves.

This Brian and Jen scene is one of my all time favorites. The two of them have come so far. And Jen is the mother Brian deserves.

Okay… onto the proposal (worst idea ever, fuck you forever writers)

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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timaeusterrored · 1 year

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A Halloween Costume Party that Ker and Johnny decided to throw🎃🍬

Tell me what the gang is doing during the party, and what they're dressed up as

->{please throw in your OC babies}<-

Good morning lovely!!💖��

———

“Come ooooooon baby, it’s our first Halloween. Please?” Kerry was using his pretty brown eyes again to get Vincent to cave, wrapping Vincent’s arms around his waist before putting his arms around Vincent’s neck.

“Johnny-“

“I planned the damn thing, you’re going. It wouldn’t kill you to leave the apartment for something other than school and work.” Johnny sandwiched Vincent between them, pressing Kerry against the counter.

“What are you two going as?” Vincent asked, defeated.

“Pirates! It’s the bar theme, so the band and bartenders are going as well.” Kerry explained, moving some hair from Vincent’s face with a small smile. “It’ll be fun. If you don’t have an idea, you’re technically apart of the bar crew so you could also go as a pirate.” Kerry hummed, kissing him to sweeten the deal.

But Vincent already had a better plan.

The day of the party came quicker than Vincent was anticipating, but he was ready. He and Judy were finishing up in their cramped bathroom when Mike rolled in, fixing himself as he tossed his bag on the couch.

“Hello- I should have fucking guessed!” Vincent grinned at friend’s reaction, then laughed when he realized who Mike had based his costume off of.

“Where’s your husband, Mr. Swan?” Vincent teased, remembering that this was technically River and Mike’s first halloween as a couple as well, as if they hadn’t been doing couple costumes since they were in senior year of high school.

“Well hello hell hello, Mr. Turner!” Judy teased, searching in her makeup bag when River walked in, who bowed teasingly to them before coming up behind Mike to see Vincent and Judy.

“J and Ker are gonna flip, I hope you know that.” River grinned, leaning against the wall. He and Mike had dressed up as Will and Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean, marking four years of doing couples costumes and only one year of doing it as an actual couple.

“Yeah yeah, just don’t drag Johnny away. Halloween is one of our busiest nights.” Mike huffed, fixing his cuffs. He waved when Evelyn walked in, dressed in a tight mermaid type dress and makeup.

“I’m here! We have got to watch for little kids on the road!” The group looked over in horror at that, Evelyn just fixing her dress and pushing past the boys to check her makeup over Judy and Vincent.

“Well look at you! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” She said excitedly when she saw Vincent, fixing his shirt and hair a bit out of habit. “I’m proud of you. You look great. Your boys have been bugging the hell out of everyone trying to figure out your costume.”

“They refused to believe I didn’t know it! I just knew Jude and Evie knew, and they still bugged me about it!”

“Alright kiddos we gotta go! Hurry up!” River called, grabbing the keys to his truck.

The bar was already packed when they got there, Mike, Vincent, and Judy sat in the bed of the truck, while Evelyn and River sat in the cab. They pulled around back, curtesy of Mike working there and Vincent dating one of the owners. And walked through the locker room so Mike could put his bag and anything else the group wanted to protect away with his stuff.

“Mike you-“ Johnny had come in a fury, clearly a bit overwhelmed when he saw Vincent standing there. The group just grinned and teased, as if pretending to show Vincent off to Johnny before walking away, Johnny muttering to someone to get Kerry back there.

“See why I wanted to keep it a secret?” Vincent grinned, stealing Johnny’s hat and putting it in his head. Johnny was looking at him like he was the full meal.

“Y’know, slutty siren wasn’t on my list of things you’d go as, but I’m not gonna complain.” Vincent laughed, nudging his hips against Johnny’s.

Vincent had done a play on the pirates and sirens legends, just about ten times slutty and better since his pirates would be unable to stop looking at him. He had even put some glitter on his tattoo to match the makeup scales on his face and chest, his shirt open and a baby blue and basically see through, and tight jeans he had drawn on to try and make look like a tail.

“There’s a surprise somewhere, you just gotta look.” Johnny’s hands slipped around his shirt, before finding it over Vincent’s collarbone. It was Johnny and Kerry’s names written in what had to be eyeliner.

“What’s so- Holy shit.” Kerry walked in, then stopped dead in his tracks. Johnny moved so Kerry could fully see, making Kerry shut the door behind him. Vincent laughed, the two drawn to him like pirates to a siren song.

Kerry immediately kneeled down in front of him, taking his whole costume in.

“I need prep for this, baby! I wasn’t expecting you to steal the whole show!” Kerry whined, gripping his hips and pressing kisses to his bare stomach.

“It was almost a lot worse, but Judy stopped Evie.” Both groaned at the realization that the costume could have been a lot more revealing and wasn’t.

“Sorry, maybe next years.” Vincent teased.

Johnny checked his watch, eyeing the door. Then down at Kerry, who seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“We got ten minutes before Rogue comes busting the door down, let’s try to make it five-“

“Oh absolutely not! I worked hard on this! Earn it before you even think about ruining my makeup.” Vincent pushed out from between them, strutting away as the rockers groaned again, Kerry catching up since he technically didn’t have to work and Johnny being forced to deal with his hormones in his own time. Rogue whistled when she saw Vincent, grinning at him as he pulled Kerry towards their friends to dance.

Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off of them, Vincent seemed to have gotten a bit more confident since the three had gotten together, less shy in his moves. Kerry definitely helped, but he was always good at making people feel more confident and safe around him.

Towards the end of the night, Johnny felt a kick. “Let’s go dance!” Rogue called before grabbing his hand, Mike and Blake had already disappeared into the crowd to dance with their friends and partners. Rogue dragged him towards their friends, Rogue getting caught with Nancy and as always, Johnny behind Vincent, pressing him against Kerry even more than he already was. Vincent smiled up at him, the two meeting for a kiss. He tasted like Malibu and Johnny should have known that sweet shit would be his favorite.

The next morning was rough, for all three of them. Thank god for Vincent’s blackout curtains because Kerry’s head was fucking pounding. Speaking of, how was that man- It was noon. That’s how he was already awake. He rubbed his eyes, smelling coffee and feeling Johnny shift next to him. He did not want to get up but was desperate for coffee and whatever greasy food some Saint brought for brunch.

He climbed out of bed and searched for some clean clothes in Vincent’s drawers, before stepping out. The apartment was dark, which was to be expected with a bunch of hungover college kids. He found the one he wanted on the couch, nursing a cup of coffee. He leaned down and kissed his temple before searching for coffee. The Saint that brought the food and coffee was Rogue.

Other than the soft tv, everyone was quiet. Mike was sleeping in the oversized armchair, River sat in front of him barely awake. Judy and Evelyn were probably in Judy’s room, and Nancy and Rogue were eating, or trying too anyway.

Kerry sunk down next to Vincent, taking a small sip off coffee before cuddling up next to him. Johnny probably wouldn’t be awake for another hour or two, but he couldn’t deny it was fun seeing Vincent come out of his shell a bit more, and his costume technically being a part of his and Johnny’s. He couldn’t have asked for a better halloween.

#EEEEE THIS WAS SO FUN #i love halloween #asks #cyberpunk college au

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