задание для болеющих
прорешать вариант ВПР
по литературе ответить на вопросы:
1.Соотнесите героев из списка и их описания. В тетради выпишите под номерами, кому какая характеристика принадлежит (главный герой, директор, Вадик, тетя Надя, Лидия Михайловна):
1) «Крикливая, замотанная женщина, которая одна мыкалась с тремя ребятишками».
2) «Быстрым движением головы он забрасывал съехавшую челку наверх, небрежно сплевывал в сторону, показывая, что дело сделано, и ленивым, нарочито замедленным шагом ступал к деньгам».
3) «Он расхаживал перед линейкой, закинув руки за спину, вынося вперед в такт широким шагам плечи, так что казалось, будто наглухо застегнутый, оттопыривающийся темный френч двигается самостоятельно чуть наперед директора».
4) «Она сидела передо мной аккуратная, вся умная и красивая, красивая и в одежде, и в своей женской молодой поре, которую я смутно чувствовал, до меня доходил запах духов от нее, который я принимал за самое дыхание; к тому же она была учительницей не арифметики какой-нибудь, не истории, а загадочного французского языка, от которого тоже исходило что-то особое, сказочное, неподвластное любому-каждому, как, например, мне».
5) «… перед ней крючился на парте тощий диковатый мальчишка с разбитым лицом, неопрятный без матери и одинокий, в старом, застиранном пиджачишке на обвислых плечах, который впору был на груди, но из которого далеко вылезали руки; в перешитых из отцовских галифе и заправленных в чирки марких светло-зеленых штанах со следами вчерашней драки».
3. Внимательно перечитайте эпизод «Игра на деньги. Вадик и Птаха». Какие качества Вадика позволили ему стать главным в игре на деньги? Назовите три качества и подтвердите их поступками героя.
4. Почему Вадик, заметив, что главный герой рассказа слишком быстро выходит из игры, решил жестоко проучить его? Какую науку пришлось на своей шкуре постигнуть герою? Выпишите в качестве ответа на вопрос цитату из текста.
5. Попробуйте объяснить, в чем разница между Вадиком и Птахой, если одно общее качество у них точно есть: они оба жестокие по сути своей. С кем из них страшнее встретиться в жизни? Почему?
6. Перед вами герои рассказа «Уроки французского»: директор, мать мальчика, жители райцентра, дядя Ваня, одноклассники, жители деревни, тетя Надя и её дети, Лидия Михайловна. Попробуйте условно разделить их на две группы (1 группа: … 2 группа: …). Запишите, кто к какой группе относится, охарактеризуйте каждую группу, выделив основные качества характера людей, оказавшихся в одной группе. При распределении учтите, что Валентин Распутин использует в тексте прием антитезы (противопоставления) героев друг другу.
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Fic: Flesh and Bone (Altan/Vadik, NC17)
Title: Flesh and Bone
Fandom: Plague Doctor / Bubble Comics
Pairing: Altan/Vadik
Summary: PWP where Altan requires a wheelchair because of his injuries, and Vadik shows him a good time.
Warnings: Reference to canonical death of a parent, and chronic pain.
Author’s Notes: Written for the prompt "КФ1-0811: "[ENG] After the accident, Altan is in a wheelchair. Overwhelmed by pain and sadness, he is unable to get up and find comfort in sex and partying anymore. But Vadik is ready to gratify the young man's every needs, right from of his wheelchair. And make Altan's body vibrate with pleasure again.
[RUS] После аварии Алтан сидит в инвалидном кресле. Охваченный болью и печалью, он больше не может встать или найти утешение в сексе и вечеринках. Но Вадик готов удовлетворить любые потребности молодого человека, прямо из своего инвалидного кресла. И заставить тело Алтана снова вибрировать от удовольствия."” via GromKink on Twitter. The fic itself is in English.
Comments loved and encouraged!
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37925620
* * *
Altan knew Vadik was hiding something. It was the way he smiled; Vadik smiled easily and often, finding the world and everyone in it amusing, but sometimes his smile was wry, his eyes sharp, and that meant he had plans.
Altan wondered if Yuma had arranged his death. She had never really considered him family, and Altan's physical therapy cost a small fortune - therapy that wasn't helping Altan get back on his feet as quickly as Yuma wanted.
If he was to be executed, at least she'd picked a mercenary with good aim.
Vadik whistled away cheerfully as they rode the elevator to his apartment, fiddling with something on his phone, and following Altan as he wheeled down the corridor. A muffled thump of dated electronic music filled the corridor, and Altan looked up at Vadik, wondering what the music was meant to drown out.
"If you're going to kill me, could you at least play something decent?" Altan asked, and Vadik laughed.
"Your majesty, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn't have brought you somewhere with carpets," Vadik said, unlocking the door and holding it open for Altan to enter.
Altan had heard Vadik's music from outside, but seeing the inside of Vadik's apartment was overwhelming. All his furniture had been moved to the edges of the room or tidied away, and there were disco balls and neon signs instead of lamps or overhead lighting. Even his kitchen had been decorated like a bar.
Altan wheeled into the room and looked around, waiting for a punchline to the joke.
"If Muhammed will not come to the mountain, then the mountain must go to Muhammed," Vadik said, seeming all too pleased with himself.
"What?" Altan asked, recognising the phrase, even if Vadik had deliberately mixed up its words.
"You weren't going out, and it was making you miserable. So, I decided if you won't go to a club, I'll bring a club to you."
Altan's chest felt tight, almost painfully so. The feeling wasn't eased by Vadik kneeling to help him take off his shoes. "You did this because I was miserable."
"Yeah."
Altan felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He dashed to the bathroom, fighting with the door to get it open and cursing at how hard it was to lock from seat height, before grabbing a towel and burying his face in it, hiding his tears.
No one had offered him more than words of sympathy since his mother had died. Most people didn't even offer him that, as if speaking about her death would make it contagious - as if her very name was cursed when Razumovsky murdered her.
And the one person who had bothered to lift a finger was his family's pet mercenary.
Altan kept waiting for a knock on the door or rattling of the lock, but nothing disrupted his grief, giving him enough time to calm down, blow his nose, and take off his gloves to splash his face with cold water.
Music still played in Vadik's living room, but it was quieter now. Altan feared what he'd find outside when he unlocked the door - everything he knew about Vadik made him believe this was a prank - but he steeled himself, and wheeled out to find Vadik bopping his head in time to the music, pouring himself a drink as if nothing had happened.
"Why did you do it?" Altan asked, "And don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart. You know I don't believe in that."
Vadik raised an eyebrow before handing Altan a glass of water, and leaning back against the kitchen counter. "I'm wounded. I did it because I like you."
Altan would have scoffed, if he'd had the breath for it. "Shut up."
"You're the one who wanted an answer," Vadik said. "I didn't say I love you. Love is bullshit, and it gets people killed," he continued, taking a drink from his glass before setting it down, "But I do like you. You're hot, smart, and fucked up. The part where you're rich is a nice bonus."
"Are you making fun of me?" Altan asked, still unable to shake the feeling of being stung, the feeling this was all some cruel game.
Vadik squatted, squeezing Altan's leg above his knee, where the pain was bearable. "Most of the time, yes. But not today."
Altan looked at the broad hand on his leg, up the broad arm it was attached to, the broad shoulders, broad chest. A pet bear would have felt smaller, and been less dangerous. "I practically own you," Altan said.
"So what?" Vadik replied, shifting to kneel so that he was closer to Altan's eye level.
Altan felt dizzy with how hard his heart was pounding, and with terror at the thought this might all be mockery.
He shuffled forward in his seat, wincing at the pain in his legs, and bent to press his lips to Vadik's.
Vadik didn't pull away or laugh. He just kissed him back.
Altan parted his lips when Vadik licked across them, letting Vadik's tongue into his mouth, and closed his eyes to concentrate on enjoying the moment. He hadn't kissed anyone in so long, and it was exhilarating to be reminded of how good kissing could be, especially when the person he was kissing knew when to pull back and swallow, how to suck his tongue in a way that made him want to melt, how to bite his lips just hard enough to tease without bruising.
Altan still froze when Vadik's hand slid up his thigh, and pulled back altogether when Vadik's thumb traced the crease where Altan's thigh met his hip.
Vadik stilled, but didn't take his hand away.
"You can't want this," Altan said, and Vadik rolled his eyes.
"How about you let me decide what I want?" Vadik asked. "I wanted to do two things tonight; I wanted to make you smile, and I wanted to make you come. I figure you're still struggling with the smiling part, so…" he trailed off, stroked his thumb over Altan's thigh again.
Altan had missed sex since his injury, even masturbation proving difficult because one wrong move with his legs could leave him feeling like his bones were made of razors, making it almost impossible to relax. He'd managed to come a few times in the shower, thanks to warm water easing his pain and the shower stool being a comfortable height, but it always left him feeling undignified, bordering on humiliated.
"Altan," Vadik prompted, stirring him from his thoughts. "I told you what I want. You need to decide if you want it too."
"Yes, damn it," Altan said, letting Vadik unbutton his fly and untuck his shirt. His cock was still soft; the pain in his legs wasn't the fun kind, and he'd only been half-interested in BDSM before his injury.
Vadik frowned in thought before standing, taking time stripping off his tank top, then his jeans. Vadik's cock was hard, straining to escape his boxers, and Altan flushed at the sight - it was flattering to be wanted.
"Something tells me you like being in control," Vadik said, kicking off his socks as well, his clothes piled in a mess by his feet. "So take it. Tell me what you want me to do."
Altan looked up and down Vadik, taking in all of him, wondering what he could demand. He wanted to shut up the voice in his head that still insisted this was a prank, a nasty joke he had fallen for. "Suck my fingers," Altan said, holding out his hand, and watched as Vadik knelt to take them in his mouth - one at a time to start with, running his tongue between them, then taking Altan's index and middle fingers together, down to the very base so that Altan could feel where the back of Vadik's tongue gave way to his throat.
Altan's breath caught at the sight, his cock stirring at how Vadik's lips looked while wrapped around his fingers. He suited submission, and Altan put his other hand on the back of Vadik's neck, holding him in place while he pushed a third finger between Vadik's lips.
Vadik started to drool with the stretch of that third finger, but didn't gag or complain, and Altan could see that Vadik's cock was still hard despite the mess beginning to drip down his chin. He finally let go, giving another order; "Help me take these off," he said, gesturing to his pants, and pushing himself up so Vadik could pull both those and Altan's boxers off, moving quickly so Altan could rest his legs as soon as possible.
Vadik wiped his mouth on his arm, his skin reddened and chin damp. "Anything else, your majesty?" he asked, and Altan nodded, stroking his thumb over Vadik's lips. Altan couldn't make himself answer Vadik's question with words, and for once, he felt grateful for Vadik's music filling the silence between them.
Vadik kissed Altan's thumb, then bent to kiss each of Altan's knees, the inside of his thighs, moving his hands to Altan's hips.
"Can I lift you?" Vadik asked, and Altan nodded again, his breath faltering at the warmth and strength evident in Vadik's hands as Vadik pulled him forward, lifting his legs to drape their aching, useless weight over his shoulders.
If Vadik dropped him now, Altan would kill him.
Vadik nuzzled between Altan's legs to lick his balls, and even though the movement was clumsy, Altan shivered at how good it felt to be touched there by someone other than himself. Vadik sucked them gently, making Altan squirm in pleasure, then brushed his lips up the length of Altan's cock, before swallowing him down as eagerly and easily as he'd swallowed Altan's fingers.
"Oh, god," Altan said.
Vadik, the bastard, pulled back with a smirk. "Did you need something?"
"Keep going," Altan snapped, glaring when Vadik pressed a teasing kiss to the tip of his cock, before throwing his head back in pleasure when Vadik swallowed him down again.
Altan didn't know or want to know where Vadik had learned his skill, but the way he alternated between sucking Altan hard or massaging Altan's cock with his tongue soon had Altan trembling. Vadik kept holding him tight, shifting his hands to squeeze Altan's ass while supporting his weight, and Altan closed his eyes, arching his back, clinging hard to the arms of his chair.
Vadik's mouth felt good, impossibly good, and Altan's breathy sighs turned into needy, pleading moans.
"Please," Altan whispered, and Vadik made a muffled noise of approval around Altan's cock, letting Altan come down his throat, and cleaning up every last drop of semen and spit with his tongue before he pulled back, easing Altan's legs down from his shoulders.
Altan looked at Vadik, at his pleased smirk and reddened mouth, and wished he could push his foot between Vadik's legs to give him something to grind against. He liked how Vadik looked on his knees, but couldn't offer him much help while he was down there.
Altan looked around Vadik's living room for something that might be of use, before pointing to one of the tidied-away chairs. "Bring that over, take off your boxers, and sit down," Altan ordered. The height difference between his wheelchair and the living room chair wasn't ideal, but at least it meant Vadik wouldn't have to lean over him the whole time.
Altan had fond memories of trading hand jobs with strangers in the back rooms of clubs, and this had the same sort of illicit thrill; Vadik's cock felt good to hold, thick and hot and hard, and Altan liked watching Vadik's muscles flex as he worked, the way his thighs and stomach would tense or relax.
"Honey, if you don't stop now, I'm going to make a mess," Vadik said, and Altan shrugged.
"Make a mess then," Altan said, speeding up the movement of his hands and watching Vadik arch into his touch, watching Vadik's come spurt over his thighs and Altan's fingers.
Despite Altan's expectations, Vadik was quiet when he came, and Altan felt a sudden hot surge of jealousy imagining who Vadik might have learned to be quiet for.
Vadik closed his hands over Altan's own, either not noticing or not caring about the fact they were still wet and sticky, and pulled them away from his cock. "I don't know if it's the gardening or the wheelchair I should thank for it, but you've got fantastic hands."
Altan looked at them, his nails clipped short, bare of varnish because he'd tired of it constantly chipping. Nothing about them felt special.
"It's a compliment, honey. Don't think about it so hard."
Altan snatched his hands back, feeling self-conscious about the fact he only had a shirt on. Vadik wore his nudity like armour, scars and all; Altan hadn't developed that particular skill, yet. He itched for a cigarette or his vape, and felt genuine gratitude when Vadik helped him pull his clothes back on.
Vadik seemed content to just sit around in his boxers, but Altan wasn't about to tell him off for being slovenly in his own home, especially when - all things considered - tonight had been good. It had been strange, and he was sure his legs were going to give him hell in the morning, but for a while he'd actually felt in control of something.
"Is this a one time thing?" Altan asked, and Vadik shrugged.
"That's up to you," he said. "Kneeling for you is fun, but I won't start crying over a 'no'."
"What if I keep you waiting for an answer?"
"Then you're a mean little shit," Vadik said, grinning, "But I still got to make you come, so I'm content."
Altan smirked, and Vadik bent to kiss him.
"Got to make you smile, too," Vadik added.
Altan kissed him back, and for the first time in many, many months, allowed himself to be happy.
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