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boyfhee · 7 months

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✶ THINKING ABOUT. . . ft. lhs

g fluff w drinking ( he's drunk again ) wc 1.3k note for my darl @isoobie, all my hee works are for her anyway

heeseung doesn't have a high alcohol tolerance.

in fact, he doesn't have any— maybe a little bit— but mostly no, and yet still, he doesn't refuse whenever someone offers him a drink. you've been over this many times, telling him that drinking is not comparable to singing and continuing to drink probably won't improve his tolerance, though your effort is of no avail.

because if it were, you wouldn't have been standing inside a restaurant-bar at eleven pm, watching jay and jake trying to get a hold of an almost-passed-out heeseung, who, for some reason, smiles the moment you enter his currently blurry field of vision.

“we're sorry you had to come here this late again,” jake shoots you an apologetic smile, throwing one of heeseung's arms over his shoulder, making sure he doesn't fall because of the lack of sense of balance as jay was at the counter, making payments. “you know how he is, just wouldn't let us drive him back,”

which is another reason why you want him to stop drinking.

the first one being him wanting to only go back with you when he’s drunk out of his mind, pleading to you with the most irresistible pout to let him stay over at your place— it once dragged the two of you into a scandal. it’s worse since he refuses to let anyone else drive him back when he’s drunk off limits, only wanting you to pick him up even if it’s only to drop him at the dorms.

while being your best friend makes him one of your top priorities, it absolutely doesn't mean he can call you at the most ungodly hours and have you pick him up after heavy drinking sessions. and even if he does, he can at least try to be a little decent and cooperate instead of saying that you're the one who's drunk and he will drive you back to your place and even look after you for the rest of the night.

“heeseung, i don't think i'm the one who needs supervision today,” a sigh escapes your lips as you and the boys manage to get him in the back seat of your car.

“i will look after you so, don't worry,” his replies are followed by soft giggles.

then it goes quiet.

you steal a glance at him through the front-view mirror. heeseung is busy basking in the city noise and street lights. cold winds brush past the rosy dust on his cheeks, strands of purple hair dancing in the wind that make him look angelic, his ocean deep eyes telling a story of a million stars under the crescent moon, as if they're communicating in a language so foreign for the humankind to comprehend.

these are the moments when you realise that one could ask why you like heeseung, and you could give a thousand reasons why you're actually in love with him.

“we’re having another comeback,” he speaks above the blaring horns of vehicles. he’s telling you that for the ninth time— six times sober, three drunk, including this one.

“is that why you drank so much? to celebrate?” your chuckle resonates with a hint of sarcasm, words keeping up with him although, your mind is busy focusing on driving as you filter through the traffic. on other days, the roads would've been tamer, a little emptier. though, the weekends are not.

heeseung exhales heavily. “maybe,”

and it gets quiet once again.

you can hear him say a few things here and there, giggling about something amidst himself, his words too quiet to be coherent to your ears. you don’t quite remember when you and him got so close, to the point where he started calling you for help in every minor inconvenience instead of his brother. you were just a neighbour he bumped into around the dorms, voluntarily and willingly, and now you’re his best friend in just ten months.

“are you still thinking about the comeback?” the question leaves your mouth the moment you park in front of his dorms, holding the door open for him to get out of the car. “can i get a spoiler, or do you still remember the company guidelines even when you’re drunk?”

heeseung and you have been on opposite tracks ever since the day you met, and it doesn't even have to do with your zodiacs and personality— you can’t sing to save your life, while he earns off music— and, you don't know how you both got to a point where he's the person you trust blindly and you're the one he seeks for in the dead of the nights. it's something that comforts you while reminding you how you both have completely different worlds. perhaps, it's in the habits and insecurities that follow, or the simple realisation that heeseung is a star while you're just a planet revolving around.

there's a line between him and you that's stopping you from entering his world, and vice-versa.

“heeseung,” you call him again, putting an extra emphasis to get his head out of whatever comeback related thoughts he’s having, grabbing his arm to get him out of the car.

“i'm thinking about something else,” you scrunch up your nose when he speaks while practically reeking off alcohol. “i'm thinking about you,”

that’s not the first.

and then, he settles his eyes on you, one arm around your waist for support, fixating his gaze on you for a better look as if he has never seen you before. heeseung leans against your car, spending the next five minutes staring at you as you stare back at him with the same interest, or perhaps more, before he breaks into a soft giggle. “you're cute,”

that’s a first.

you don't want to overthink and assume a completely different meaning of his words, changing the trajectory of your relationship— which is actually what you want but, not this way— you decide to play along. “well, i believe i'm more than just cute for being the one to pick you up whenever you're wasted—”

“and pretty,” another first, and then follows a step that he takes towards you. “you're beautiful, smart and cute and. . .and did i tell you that you’re beautiful? i don't know what i'm saying,” a hiccup, his hand brushes against yours, it’s not an accident. he caresses your hand, looking at you with a flushed face and speaking with soft giggles, “i think i'm in love with you,”

“i think, you don't know what you're saying,” you interject with a chuckle, trying to put up a normal front while in reality, you're losing sense of everything because heeseung is confessing to you; and, it's both an honour and a shame because he is intoxicated at the moment.

“i don't,” he exhales.

heeseung falls quiet once again. there's dejection on his face along with hints of desperation to voice his exact feelings, to make sure you understand how he feels about you, and you know his words couldn't be clearer, but he is drunk. you know better than trusting saccharine words laced with the smell of alcohol, although you would've already kissed him if you were braver and he was sober.

“but i really love you,” he says again, chanting the same words to you as if those three words are the only thing that make sense right now. "we’re having a comeback,"

and heeseung also has a habit of talking pointlessly, repeating the same things over and over again when he’s drunk. another step towards, his hands brush against yours before he links his index finger with yours. you almost give in, almost, finding it hard to control yourself through the close proximity between him and you. you find yourself getting drunk on the alcohol in the breathe, or the way his lips are barely centimetres away from yours.

“i love you,” he repeats again, and you’re frozen in your stance, and he has no plans of backing out, you’re expecting him to bring up the comeback again, but he just presses his lips against yours before pulling back. “so please remind me if i forget any of this tomorrow,”

and then his lips are back on yours.

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potheadkiki · 5 days

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Do you take requests?? Because if sooo can you do a bakugou hc w reader who smokes🤗 nsfw included 🌚

⚠smut!

Use of marijuana

Pet names

Cursing

CHUBBY READER IN MIND

Ik u wanted hc but I did a short story

It's already getting late as you and bakugo get ready for the night in your own separate ways that is. Bakugo getting in the shower after you he doesn't like to admit it but he loves to watch you moisturize as you mutter to yourself and to him about your day. He's stepping out of the shower towel hanging low on his waist as he see's you sitting there on your shared bed packing a cone before gently twisting the tip so it's straight and will burn evenly. He can't help but to watch as you gently press the filter to you lips as you light the tip and inhale, exhaling after and filling the room with smoke and the smell of weed. He doesn't smoke much and that's fine with him but sometimes he'll give in and ask for a hit once and while. Walking towards his dresser as he listens to you gently cough and your favorite American cartoon "Bobs burgers". He gets dressed quickly and slips into bed next to you looking at you for a moment before saying

"Give me a hit" he says looking at you and you admittedly are a little shocked as you hand him your light cone. Watching him inhale and exhale only to start coughing as his face goes slightly red. You giggle looking at him

"Shut up woman I don't smoke as often as you" he says trying to catch his breath as you giggle at his statement

"I know and I love when you smoke with me baby" you say as you snuggle up against his side exhaling as you take another hit before handing it to him again and hoping that maybe he'll take another hit and he does grabbing it from your fingers, inhaling but before he could exhale you gently grab the cone out of his hands and lean in to kiss him pulling away and exhaling the smoke that was originally his.

"Mhm damn baby" he says before leaning in himself and connecting his lips again this time more fierce pushing you back gently against the pillow as you lay the cone down on the side so you can wrap your hands around his neck pulling him in closer as you whine pulling away giggling

"What's gotten into you suki?" You ask shyly avoiding eye contact with him. Your high and with the way he's looking at you, the feeling of his lips on yours is enough to make you feel like a horny nervous virgin teenage girl again, he laughs maneuvering his head and gently grabbing your chin to force eye contact with a sly smile he says

"I can't help it seeing you smoke always makes me feel a certain way and I'm kinda buzzed. What am I not allowed to kiss my woman?" He asks almost in a serious tone looking at you like he wants you to answer so you do a little quiet but you say

"Of course you can kiss me suki" he smiles at that gently pinching the outside of your right thigh as a sign of dominance and for you to spread your legs a little more for him to get comfortable in between his favorite place your thighs. His hips press against yours and you feel the pressure against your clit as he grinds his hips into yours. Gasping slightly as you wrap your arms around his lower back pulling him closer as he starts to kiss at your neck. All the while his one hand was holding him up the other was having a field day touching and feeling up your body. His hand groping at your side handles as his head makes it way under one of his T-shirt that you had stolen as he start to gently kissing and nibbling at your nipple. His hips slow down as he feels you getting to the edge but not yet he thinks. Meanwhile his hand started to travel down and slip past your panties fingers eager to please in anyway he can.

"Mhm fuck suki you make me feel so good" you whimper out always loving when he is so touchy feely with you. He chuckles slightly looking up at you

"Yeah I better" he says with a chuckle as his head moves further down to meet his hand and finally get his head between your legs.

"Hmm finally" he says almost as if he's just been given some sort of life saving medication. Now that he is lowered to meet your pussy he has his other hand taking a moment to slip off your panties letting them hang off one of your left ankle. Using his pointer and middle finger to gently spread your lips enough to expose your pretty clit laying a soft kiss on it before sucking softly loving the way you whine and moan for him. Sliding his fingers down prodding at your hole before slipping his middle finger inside and curling up and rubbing against that little spongy spot inside that has your legs curling up around his head as he pulls away a little to lick at your clit instead. Feeling your legs tremble he knows your getting close. Your always so easy to make cum while high it's honestly adorable. Squealing softly as your hands grip is hair hard

"I'm gonna cum suki please don't stop" you beg and he doesn't picking up pace with his finger as your legs tremble around his head. Sliding a second finger in and curling up and one harsh suck is all it takes to push you over the edge completely. He keeps licking cleaning you up as you moan and breath heavy moving your hips away from his face from the slight over stimulation and he chuckles pulling away looking at you with a proud smile as his eyes are droopy and slightly red

"You okay baby? You good to continue?" He asks tucking a piece of hair that must've got stuck to the sweat from your cheeks. You nod gently leaning into his hand

"Words baby." He says

"Mhm yes I'm fine please fuck me I've been a good girl" you say whining softly and he laughs making the comment

"You're right you have been and I believe you deserve a reward" he says pulling boxers down to expose himself completely to you and you practically drool at the sight as he leans over to grab a condom from the second draw slipping it on and using your own juices to lub himself up. His cock gently pushes at your hole feeling as he sinks instead of you slowly not stopping until he completely bottoms out inside you with a groan of relief.

"Fuck baby your so good you feel so good" he says as his head hangs low on your shoulder panting slightly. He always gets so sensitive when he's high. His hips start to move until he's able to create a steady rhythm for the both of you. Lifting your left leg wrapping it around his waist as he thrusts deeper inside hitting that spot again and again. His hand makes its way back to the side of your bed as his other one slides down between your bodies and finds your clit once again this time being a tad bit more rough with the way he rubs circles into your clit. He can feel as you start to clench around him again so he whispers

"You gonna cum princess?" He asks almost a condescending tone to the question. But you nodd all the more and whine. He continues doing fucking you feeling your legs tremble again nails digging into his back your sure you drew a little blood. You feel as your breath gets stuck in your throat attempting to say anything but it just comes out as a broken moan creaming all over him as your back arches off the bed for a moment. He doesn't stop though not now that he's chasing his own high and he's close so close with the way your clenching around him, all the moaning and whining, and the look on your face along with wear his T-shirt sends him over the edge pulling out gently as to not have you be so sore later on. Pulling the condom off and tying it before throwing it in the trashcan. Pulling his boxers back up and giving you a gentle kiss before heading to the bathroom, grabbing a clean wash cloth and soaking it in warm water before wringing it out and walking back out to you whipping at your forehead and between your thighs kissing your face the entire time and saying how good of a job you did. Pulling the t-shirt back down and sliding behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and you soon fall asleep to the sound of the still playing show and the sound of his steady heartbeat which always puts you out.

#bnha x chubby reader #chubby reader smut #mha smut #bakugo smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #chubby reader #mha katsuki bakugo #smoking #smoke weed everyday #girls who smoke weed

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femscottlang · 8 months

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Flustered- part one

Summary; After being recommended by Garcia to be the next technical analyst for the BAU, You find your ability to keep your personal and work life separate becoming increasingly more difficult. Your charming boss is not helping either. Your attempts to not show your affection towards her leads Emily to believe that you dislike her.

AN; this is some serious idiots to lovers, misinterpretation shit (aka my favorite trope). Not canon for the sake of plot.

Word count 1.5k

You had gotten through the first couple of weeks of the new job without a hitch. Of course, there were a couple panicked calls to Penelope when her security was a little too good, but nothing major.

Except for your boss and her indescribable ability to make your brain stop working.

You stepped out of the elevator and took a moment to smooth over your hair and let out a shuddering breath. This had become a part of your work routine to try and make it through the day without having to hide in your lair until your face cooled down. You walked in, giving your colleagues a soft smile and hello, conveniently avoiding Emily's gaze, as you walked past them into your office where you saw a handful of case files on your desk with a sticky note on them.

Pick one

You sighed and sat down, pulling the sticky note off and putting it aside. Your breath hitched as you smelled her perfume lingering on the sheet of paper. “Shit…” you muttered, immediately tossing in the trashcan to get it as far away as possible. You put your hands on your cheeks to try and calm the flush.

After filtering through the cases you landed on a case of people being killed in their sleep by an axe in New Orleans. Selfishly, it was also the furthest away. Anything to gain distance between you and that patchouli perfume which made your heart beat fast enough to power the BAU jet. Emily Prentiss had an innate ability to make you choke up. You had dated plenty of women, mightve even been considered a bit of a player. You were never one to get flustered, until Prentiss. Her voice sent shivers down your spine in the best way possible.

You shook the image of her out of your head and grabbed the folder and your tablet, walking into the bull pen “Conference room in 10” You said, holding up the wretched manilla sleeve as you went into conference room to display the images on the tv.

Emily leaned against the edge of Terra’s desk, her leg in a boot. She watched you beeline to your office, smiling at everyone except for her. She sighed and leaned her head back “What did I do?” she groaned, lifting her head and looking at terra for comfort. Terra let out a chuckle “I can’t help you here, Prentiss. Sometimes people just don’t like you and you have to live with that” she shrugged

“But she likes all of you! Is it because I'm the boss?” She rubbed her forehead

Her eyes followed you as you walked in and waved the folder “Conference room in 10” and as you walked out, scanning over your blouse and pencil skirt.

“She’s stuck with me for this case, I’ll be no help on the field with this boot on my foot” she grumbled as Terra got up and smiled “Maybe dropping that weight on your foot was a sign from god. You can finally bond with the pretty tech girl” she sneered playfully, which earned her a smack on the arm and a push towards the conference room as they made their way over.

“What do you have for us?” Emily asked as she sat in her chair with a huff. You looked up at her like deer in headlights.

You stammered, fumbling with the remote “w-we have three sets of victims, all killed by being struck by an axe in their sleep. One set is a mother, father and two children, the next is a pregnant woman and her husband and the last is just husband and wife” You explained, flipping through the images while avoiding looking at the television.

“This is clearly inspired by the Axeman of New Orleans, but this guy is significantly more successful. In the real case, the axeman never managed to kill most of his victims” You explained, looking around the room.

“Many believed that the axeman was a demon and that he was able to shrink, crawl under the doorway and grow back to the size of a normal man.” Spencer chimed in.

You shuddered “no demons please. I can barely deal with evil people let alone the supernatural”

“Oh Techie, don’t tell me you believe in ghosts” Luke chimed in with a laugh.

You frowned “A fear of ghosts is perfectly normal!” You insisted as Emily cut off the bickering “Wheels up in 30. “ She stated before looking at you “I will be staying here, I’m no use to you guys on the field with my boot.” Your eyes went wide “Here?”

“Is that a problem?” She asked, you shook your head, scurrying back to your room as you prayed she would stay in her office.

Just as you finished filing away the cases that were not chosen, you heard your door open. You looked up and watched Emily hobble in. You shut the drawer and turned towards the computer, pretending to look busy “What can I do for you, Ma’am?” you asked as calmly as possible.

She frowned as you turned away, pulling up a chair next to you and sitting down “I figured I would join you here, It doesn’t make any sense for us to be in two different rooms and I don’t wanna take you away from your equipment” She smiled at you “I’ve told you this before, you can call me Emily”

You glanced at her and immediately brought your eyes back to the computer “You’re right, it does make more sense.” You ignore her comment, afraid to even let her name come out of your mouth. You two sit in silence for a minute before the phone rang. You answered in faster than you should have.

“What can I do for you, honey bunny?” You asked, silently thanking spencer for calling

“Uh need you to find who was at the Spotted Cat Jazz Club on Friday night. ” He said, papers shuffling in the background.

“Okay…” you murmured, beginning to type on your computer “do you have anything to help narrow that down? Friday night during spring break in a New Orleans jazz club. An ID scanner, camera footage? Anything? I’m no Garcia” You joked.

“Yeah I am having the club send footage and give you access to the scanner database” Luke interrupted.

“Thank you! I will get back to you as soon as we find anything” you said, hanging up and beginning to dig through the footage and ID numbers for a match as you felt Emily’s eyes burning into you.

“Why would you say that?” She asked.

“Say what?” You glanced over at her before going back to the computer. She furrowed her eyebrows “That you’re no Garcia. She recommended you, that’s why you were chosen. You have done nothing but prove your abilities time and time again. You’re incredibly talented.” She placed a hand on your wrist.

You froze “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it” you said, looking at her thumb rubbing circles on your wrist.

“Why do you refuse to call me Emily?” she asked just as a match appeared on the computer “I have nothing against calling you by your name” You said, calling Luke to avoid this conversation going to a place where you'll have to admit the fact that her name causes your stomach to erupt in butterflies.

“Hey Techie, got anything good?”

“I always do. Willard Ross, arrested for agravated assault with a weapon.” You said, stiffening as Emily leaned in closer “The weapon was an axe…” She muttered.

“I am sending over his information right now” You said, pushing your glasses up.

“What would we do without you? Great work” Tara shouted over Lukes phone.

“I know, Go catch him” you said, hanging up with a smile. You turned towards Emily for the first time today “Good job, tech” she said, patting your shoulder. Your muscles tensed under her touch, yet she did not remove her hand or move away from you “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I did, I-I have nothing against calling you by your name” You repeated, not daring to look beyond the screen in front of you.

“Thats not an answer” she paused for a moment and watched your body language. Flushed cheeks, elevated heartrate, stiff, stuttering. A cheshire smile spread across her face. “Call me Emily.” She murmured.

That was what finally made you spin around to face her, lips parted and eyes wide in shock. Your heart felt like it was pounding out of her chest.

“Did you not hear me? Call. Me. Emily” she persisted

“Emily” you finally said, barely louder than a whisper. She grinned even wider, patting your cheek “Now was that so hard?” she cooed, rubbing her thumb across your jawbone as you leaned into her touch, closing your eyes “You really aren’t good at answering questions.” she chuckled, letting go of your face and leaning back in her chair.

“Please don’t tease me” You pleaded, turning back to your computer, “I really don’t think I could take it.” you said with a huff, pressing your palms to your face to try to cool down.

“How could I tease you? You’re such a good girl.” She practically purred.

Your breath hitched “Thats- I- Uh” your hands froze, shaking over your keyboard. Your eyes darted around the screen as you felt your chest rise and fall more rapidly “Thats hardly appropriate, Ma’am” You managed to get out.

“Oh? Then should we finish this conversation at my house tonight?” She asked, tilting her head.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x female reader #Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader #emily prentiss fanfiction

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mitoad · 2 months

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I think I might have a good request. Ghost or Gaz with a gentle wife who rambles a lot and just talks to herself, like she’s stuck in her own world. Thanks <3

whoever anon is , u cooked so so hard on this !! reader is literally me 哈哈哈哈 ^^ im not too sure whether u want headcannons or fanfic, but I feel like hcs would be great 4 this :3

kyle ‘gaz’ garrick w/ gentle absentminded reader (wc:

notes: not proofread, reader is intended 2 be fem but can be anything, somewhat protective gaz?, brief mentions of violence (blood + death [no specified character])

reader, i hope you know that you're this man's achilles heel. The most precious thing in his life, the heart that he so fiercely protects underneath the tac vest he wears in his deployments.

you're such a fragile presence in this world, no blood staining your feet as you tread on blood soaked grounds, eyes fixed on whatever scene was in your head instead of the carnage and bloodshed that would usually manage to bleed behind anyone's eyes. You're a precious soul, and kyle worries because of it.

never because of you, of course. Kyle thinks you’re the best thing he'd laid his eyes upon; soft yet sparkling eyes, soft voice a soothing hand on his shoulder, the crinkle in the skin near the corner of your eyes when you gave a whole, sweet smile a remedy to the heaving ache left in his heart after months of ivory in his nose and the head-splitting ring of alarms in his ears. He's so glad that you're always there after deployment, a teary yet relieved smile on your face, how you nuzzled your head in the crook of his neck for the first time since deployment. He always held you so tightly in those moments, with one of his hands brandishing the silver band on your fourth finger.

absentmindedness is something that’s dangerous, deadly in his field- a missed shot from a sniper or wrong turn of the head could result in a unit being wiped, something that Kyle had seen happen too many times to fellow teammates and old allies. But with you, it felt less like a danger and more of a somewhat amusing trait. your pretty head resting against his chest, gaze wandering across the room at their own pace- except of the papers you were meant to fill out hours ago.

he helps coax you out of your zoney episodes when necessary, gently taking your hand into his and muttering a soft inquiry of your name.

your rambles soothe him, voice so soft and gentle, with that distinct tone that soothes rabid dogs and a soft melody to his ears. It's white noise to him, and during long, bloodstained nights on missions, his world feels disturbingly silent without it.

but he doesn’t let your little tangents go into one ear and out the other. He remembers the things that you mention no matter how insignificant or foolish it is. When you had mentioned a trinket that you liked during a (mostly one sided [in a good way]) conversation, Kyle immediately seared it's description into his mind, slipping a reminder to search for it into his head.

needless to say, the closed-eyed, joyful grin and the way your eyes lit up was absolutely worth the hell of filtering through images for hours when you took the gift into your hands.

he loves you wholly and truly. From the slightly distracted tiny smiles to the quiet spillings through your lips. He'll make sure both of you know that every single day for the rest of your lives.

#finally pushed out some content !! everyone celebrate #🍵 mito's writings °｡ ⋆⸜#cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #cod fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty fanfic #cod #cod mwii

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 4 months

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About that smut line

What do you think about "we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us?" and "you're such a fucking tease, you know that?" for Luca? Like he so busy with his invention so we decided to tease him "a bit".

Luca is a monsterfucker send tweet. This is my first time writing him f if not tht good ;w;

Rated Mature | Warnings: monster reader

Send a line

Now all the survivors have the same styled rooms, same furniture, and various clothes for all of them to wear-- Aside from the special clothing Lady Nightingale would have them wear for anyone can guess her amusement. However, the room you are contained in is massive, full of wires, computers, and other marvelous things Luca has never seen before.

You float around your tank, a giant ball with often purple mist within to keep you in a state of calm. You supposedly are a new survivor, a creature to level the playing field when it comes to dealing with those of the divine like Dream Witch or Feaster, or as you told Luca: you want to annoy them for a bit.

He can never single out your face while you are in the glass ball, you have no physical form constructed and seem unable to make up your mind on an appearance.

“Luca, imagine me.” You told him as he worked, and studied the tech used to keep you contained and translate your words. “What do you see when you hear my voice?” He shivers when he feels your presence touching his mind, it is strange for when he feels you within he feels stable. “You need to focus, dear one.”

The longer he spends time with you, the more he finds you show, or attempt to show attraction. After months of studying his fragile fragmented mind, there are others you have poked your way it but Priestess told you that is invasive.

“Let me out.” You are gentle, nervous, “I shall dawn the skin you see me as.” The ball is opened once the gas has been filtered out, and you hiss in discomfort then relax as you link your mind to Luca to keep yourself in this reality. You have tried to explain this to both Priestess and Luca but it is a bit too complex for mortal minds to comprehend. “Wait!” He places a set of clothes he had found in his room one day. They are not in his size but they match the way he imagined your human form. “Put these on.”

“Is not nudity ideal for your kind?” Shifting your body from the mass of darkness and light.

“Well, nudity is called for when it is for bathing or well…”

“Coupling. Though you have worn clothes during this.”

“(Name), I said don’t peek into those!”

“My apologies, Luca.” The mist of your form fills the clothes lifting them before your human body is made in an instant. You blink, turning your head to look around, “Fascinating.” Examining yourself in the reflection of the containment ball. “You humans have very creative minds.”

Not many are used to seeing you outside of a match, and no one is used to being a human. It unsettles most who are not open-minded. You use it often once permitted by the Lady of the Manor. You find humans naturally make connections when in extreme circumstances or cut themselves off in order to protect themselves. Most are friendly but some are not ideal for bonding with.

You also learned sex can advance a connection when both are in agreement.

“We're going to fuck right here!?” Your room is not ideal, it is open for any to enter, “What if someone sees us?” He is being polite to you yet you have seen this man indulge in vices of the flesh in many of places.

“Then they may watch,” Deadpan as you sit on his lap, “Or join in if they need release as well.”

“Fuck.” That is hot in a lot of ways, “You're such a tease, you know that?” There is no way you do not understand what you are doing.

“I am aware.”

#idv luca #luca balsa #luca balsa x reader #luca balsa x you #reader insert #idv #anon ask #identity v x reader #identity v #identity v prisoner #idv prisoner #idv x you #idv x reader

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dopamineeymineymoo · 1 year

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suspension bridges || ghost x f!medic!reader

synopsis: you are an army doctor, callsign salvi, who had been on the field for even before you'd gotten that title. you'd been reassigned into task force 1-4-1 after your own taskforce had dissolved when it'd fulfilled its duty. you're a familiar face to multiple operators within the taskforce. one of them knows you for far longer than the rest.

warnings: medical inaccuracies, army inaccuracies, some medical jargon, some gore, implied medical procedures, inexperienced writer, more tags to be added as we go

author's note before we begin: I’m writing this to destress from the gruelling pressure of academics– i'm not a professional, but i do study some of the stuff i mention, specifically on the health-allied colleges; there is also the fact that I’m not from the west side of the world so I know jack shit on the actual mode of operations (except in theory, because that’s what I’m learning ATM). This isn’t meant to be accurate, these are just dumbed-down versions of stuff I already know– i might learn more stuff later on so I might add it onto the thing later on]

[this is part 1], [part 2], [part 3 to be posted]

2022

When your Task Force dissolved, with multiple members having dispersed to different tasks and duties, the different offices within the old base had been dispersed into various different locations. You had been given privilege. It wasn’t really within the higher-up’s control to assign you to a different base.

Overall, it had been awfully easy to convince you. Price knew his cards, knew the people he was pulling. It made sense that the task force he’d organized would have good chemistry.

It was amusing. Familiar faces are always a fun thing.

There's no rest for the wicked, is what you often hear. It always applies to people in your line of work, being both a savior of lives and its taker.

Of course, there's no better ice-breaker or introduction into the field than an emergency evac. The first time you'd been called into your new base had been when duty calls. There were some familiar faces on the team of medics you'd been assigned with, brief introductions and ranks were exchanged, and it's off to work.

Squeaks is one. A familiar face, one you'd worked with before albeit very briefly.

"Give 'em hell, doc." she'd said when you'd stepped into the ramp of the aircraft.

And hell you did give. It wasn’t an infrequent occurrence with your line of work where you had to be pulled out of your station to hop onto an aircraft to retrieve injured soldiers.

It’s been less than a week, about three days since you’d been reunited with some of your old patients, until your new patients ended up becoming recent.

“Reports as of ten minutes ago state that seven alert out of twelve, four obtunded, one is stuporous.” You take note, knowing that the rest of your team are listening in. Transcriptions of comms had been sent to you with data having already been filtered out appropriately. Need-to-know, is what it meant.

You eye two people, and in order call them out by their surnames. “Squeaks and Trinity, you’re on triage.”

“Yes Captain.”

“Reyes, Smith, Aisling, you deal with the seven. Make sure they don’t bleed out and add to the less pleasant numbers.” You move past them as they move to their station on the aircraft. “Body transfers to the cots are on Jones and Brown. Take them off the soldiers’ hands– keep them off too if there are any with cold feet.”

“The rest of us– two people require immediate intervention. One of them is in shock.” She hums, looking down at transcripts. “There were originally sixteen soldiers.” They knew what that meant. Two were KIA.

When the aircraft arrives in the landing zone, you and your team get into motion immediately. You help Jones and Brown in transferring the soldiers who can’t walk. Two soldiers that you don’t know personally help with setting the rest of the ones who need help walking inside the cot.

The one who was stuporous had fallen into a coma, but with a working pulse, and the four had varying levels of prognosis at the current assessment.

You’re used to this. The speed, the quickness in thinking and the steadiness while you work under these less-than-favorable circumstances. You’ve worked through worse, but that’s not a mindset you should get used to. Makes you complacent. There’s no room for complacency in this place.

“Captain Salvi!” Squeaks calls, “Five out of sixteen aren’t on the vehicle.” You hear.

You curse under your breath, “Squeaks, take over.” You wait for them to shuffle over and take over with keeping the soldier alive, before pulling back to walk towards the seven who were sat at the sides. From Squeaks, you take the tablet and swipe through the updated charts.

They’d reported the four missing names, reported well but unable to make it to exfil for whatever reason.

They all stand in attention– all who can, that is. “At ease.” You tell them. “Where are your superiors.”

One steps forward, “Ma’am, they’ve told us to head to exfil ahead of them.” He tells you. “They’re moving to another base, picked up by allies in Mexico.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Mexico?”

“That’s all we’re aware of as of now, ma’am.”

You breathe. Something's up, then. Your attention is called by the pilot in front. "Laswell's on comms." He'd said.

"Patch me in?"

“Watcher 1 to Echo 1-6, do you copy?”

“Solid copy, Watcher-1.” You retort, and look back at the soldiers before you. “Heal well, boys.” You say before backing off and walking back to the front of the plane.

There’s a crackle on Laswell’s end, before she proceeds. “Price needs you ASAP, but there’s no time for RTB. You clear for an impromptu mission?”

You curse under your breath. Not so much as an introduction. Is this how it's going to be? “Always.” You tell her. You're no stranger to these emergencies. “Not as much as a debrief, huh?”

“I’d say sorry, but you know how it is.”

“No rest for the wicked.” You say. “Think I can join them before they get picked up by Mexican Special Forces?”

“I’ll tell the pilot in advance to drop you off for RV.” Laswell tells you. “Watcher-1 out.”

You walk over to the cockpit, placing a hand on the seat. The other hand reaches for your ear piece to switch channels so you can speak with the pilot. “You got the coordinates?” You ask, and with the confirmation, you continue. “Don’t land. I’ll prep for HALO.” You tell him. “Three of them need immediate attention. I don’t want them dead on arrival.”

“Copy.” The pilot replies. You back away, and head towards the hamper where you check your kit twice for anything you’d need. While you were in charge of MedEvac, you knew the risks. As long as you were beyond the line of fire, there’s still always that chance of attack.

In this case, you were the attacker.

“Approaching RV point.” You hear in your ear. “Prepare for HALO.” High Altitude, Low Opening. You’re hoping that it’s dark enough that no one will notice the parachute– then again, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this.

Trinity walks over to you. “Captain–”

“Report to Brown. I’m headed off.” You shrug on the pack, and head towards the ramp. Before that, though, you turn to your team. Most of which are paying attention to you as you walk.

“Scott, Hudson, support with transfers.” You call, and the two of them nod. Their physique will help Brown and Jones with transferring the patients into gurneys with both haste and cautiousness.

Squeaks and Trinity approach you as you all move out of the aircraft, handing you their digitally inputted evaluations. You read through them as you move, swiping through the tablet as you read through the list. “That’s about it. Are we clear?” They all affirm.

You get a signal from the pilots. That’s all you need before you approach the ramp and drop in.

***

2001

It was a Saturday when Sergeant Simon Riley had first been forced on Medical Leave of Absence. This was on the insistence of the base’s, refusing to give him clearance until he’s deemed better, where he’d been assigned to a rehabilitation clinic not too far from his current place of stay– fortunately not too far from base.

The previous mission was bad– certainly not the worst that has happened, especially not the worst to come, but it was bad.

When the paperwork for the leave was undergoing process and Simon had been forced to confine himself to med within base, the perpetrator as to why he’d gotten hurt had been very accommodating to his whims– not that Simon had many of them, but the one who was supposed to receive the bullets (plural) that took Simon down. Doesn’t matter anymore– no man left behind, and all that.

You know what they say about people torn into bad situations– you should have seen the other guy is what he would have said if he had been in a lighter mood.

Except he’d damaged his peroneal nerve in the process.

Fortunately it’s something easy to get back from, but that’s with rehabilitation. Hence, where he’d first met you.

“Hello, Sergeant Riley.” You say, eyes twinkling with mirth and without that jaded look that he’d grown so used to witnessing in people within this line of work. You introduce yourself, first with your name. “I’m the one assigned to looking after your progression with your injuries– ultimately, medical clearance isn’t up to me, but anything I report goes into consideration. Anything you want to ask?”

“How long ‘til I’d get this off?”

“According to your chart–” you look through his charts. “Some weeks.” You hum, impressed at the prognosis. “Medical will clear you then– higher ups seem insistent in getting you back, huh?”

“I’m a good shot.” He tells you. “Some weeks, then– you any good in cuttin’ it down, Lieutenant?”

You laugh, waving in front of him. “Well, if you don’t fuck up your own injuries. Sure. Got a good prognosis anyway, considering the shit you’ve been through.” Then you remind him again to call you by your name. “And fortunately for you, your ass landed in my expert care.” There was a grin on your face as you told him that.

Overwhelming confidence in this. Infallible.

He’d been told that his injury hadn’t been so severe that it’d take him out of commission any time soon, but he’d been uncertain about that. It had been near damned frustrating to be so vulnerable. The injury is no scratch–that’s a huge chunk of his lateral knee fractured by the bullet, taking the nerve with it. While the medics had said otherwise, he just didn’t think someone could just regain proper function out of it again.

So when that stubborn pessimism is met with that near-blinding optimism–

It was hard not to believe in your confidence, and that was considering that Simon knew not to believe in good things.

The first day was for initial evaluation. You’d told him that you wouldn’t begin with all the exercises and stretching just yet. He’d been compliant.

For the first day, that is.

***

2022

Upon landing, you waste no time in moving towards RV. You made sure that there’d be no one following you, putting on the nightvision equipment you’d taken from the team that was pulled out for medevac. With a rifle in your hand, you traverse to the agreed upon location.

Only, you don’t exactly find them there.

“Bravo 0-6, this is Salvi, how copy?” You say into your comm, listening for the radio for any response. “Echo 1-6 to Bravo Team, how copy?” You wait about two seconds before your mouth opens to ask again, once more before you radio Laswell.

“Bravo-06 to Salvi, solid copy.” Price’s voice cracks on the radio, and you breathe out a sigh of relief. “Just got… held back a bit.”

“Give me a sitrep, Price.” You question, continuing to move around so that you aren’t a sitting duck at the RV point. “There’s no one in RV.”

There’s a chuckle on the other line. “We’re on the way, got held back for first aid. Someone decided to be stubborn and skip on the medevac.”

“Damn.” You hiss under your breath, word caught by the comm. “Based on the data I’ve got, there’s only the four of you– Captain Price, Lieutenant Riley, Sergeant Mactavish and Sergeant Garrick. Is that correct?”

“Affirmative.”

“Price, you aren’t injured are you?”

“Nope.”

“Good. I have a lot of choice words, then.” You say into the comms, knowing that the rest of them are listening. You were of a higher rank than the rest of them, which means that you can easily berate whoever got himself hurt and didn’t jump on medevac.

“Hell Runneth Loose.” Gaz utters under his breath, joining on the comms.

“That’s what I’m here for, Garrick.” You say. “Give me a location, set the RV at a midpoint so I can get a look at it.”

“Exfil would be further out.” Price points out.

“I have two working legs, Captain. I can use them.” You retort. “Details.” It was less of a request and more of a demand.

He tells you, and you move quick and silently towards the agreed upon location. It’s an abandoned building with a lot of debris, but standing strong enough for it to serve as a good and safe temporary camp.

You arrive first, so you scout the area for any hostiles that might be at site. There are none, fortunately, so it seems that whatever they had to deal with further West of the area hasn’t reached this place. Has to be one hell of a trip, if that’s the case.

“Echo 1-6 to Bravo Team, no sign of hostiles in the area.” You say with finality into the comm. “We’re clear.”

“Copy that Echo 1-6.”

You keep watch, keeping an eye on the perimeter in case the situation changes. Fortunately, it doesn’t, and it remains to be clear. “Approaching RV.” You hear a familiar voice on the comms.

But there’s the distinct sound of something that whizzes fast, piercing through air. You immediately duck, lowering yourself so that the wall could hide you from wherever the attack comes from. “Bravo Team coming in hot!”

“Couldn’t fucking warn me you’d had tangos comin’ over?” You hiss, raising your gun towards the perimeter, at the general direction from where you know they’d be coming from.

“A very recent development, in my defense.” Price hisses. “There’s not many, it’s manageable. You in a position to snipe, lass?”

“Affirm.” You tell him. “Get in the building, Cap, I’ve got overwatch.” You set up quick, shooting from the top of the building. You pray to whatever’s still left up there that they’ve got no RPGs– this building is doomed to fall in on itself and that’s just with the bullets encasing on already fragile wall.

And it wasn't likely, anyway. On foot, having gear like that is unlikely.

You take down as many assailants as you can, registering in your head who are friendlies by attire alone. Not usual protocol, given that you can’t be certain how positive your i.d. is of the people trailing so close to one group, but you can be certain at least that the one with the bucket hat is price and the rest that he’s allowing within his proximity are friendlies.

They come up the building, taking position and securing the area.

A hulking figure is placed beside you, heavy with a thump against the wall. You look up, seeing that it was Sergeant Mactavish who’d placed the patient on your side.

You turn your head towards Sergeant Mactavish, whose eyes shift between yourself, Ghost, and the battlefield. “Sergeant Mactavish-- pleasure to meet ya." You smile. "Hell of a first meeting, huh?"

"I'd say." Soap grins. "Need any help?"

"You take overwatch while I patch him up.”

Soap nods, shifting to take your position. “Roger that, Doc Sal.”

You didn’t need to look twice to be certain who it was that he’d dropped into your hands.

“I’d say it’s a pleasure seeing you again, Ghost,” You start with a smile. “But I believe that these are less than pleasant circumstances.”

The man leaned against the wall, debris falling between you both. He eyes you for a moment, before looking away and back to the battlefield. He huffs, not that you can hear it, and tilts his head forward in a nod. “Gotta stop meetin’ like this, y’reckon?”

You nod, “Line of fire seems to love you out there.” There’s a joke in there, a reference to a mission together once before. “Where are you hit, Lieutenant?”

“Left lumbar– just a graze.”

“Nice of you to be specific this time.” You quip, opening your pack to get the materials you need.

“Learned my lesson.”

“Whoever taught you must have ripped you a new one, huh?” There's amusement in your voice. "Hold still."

"I'd say." Soap grins. "Need any help?"

"You take overwatch while I patch him up.”

Soap nods, shifting to take your position. “Roger that, Doc Sal.”

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agendabymooner · 10 months

Text

colour me your colour || toto w. x ofc (6)

Summary: Tilly Marie nearly loses faith in her passion as she refuses to listen to everyone who told her to quit. Everyone but one. And it’s the man she met years ago at a racing event she didn’t want to attend. Who would have thought that her father’s partial ownership of three brands could take her to the zone of Mercedes and meet the love of her life?

Chapter summary: Toto makes it harder for her to not flirt in front of the cameras, and with the comfort that came with it, Tilly doesn’t even see the bad parts of the media. Not until the next day.

Content warning: Age-gap, mention of Kimi Raikkonen flirting, whipped!Tilly and Toto caught in 4K, touchy feely vibes, brief use of explicit language

Note: We getting that communications studies degree starting this fall 😩 omw to bag that f1 money ykwim 🙈

Also, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 140 FOLLOWERS?! You guys are batshit crazy and I love you all for it. I hope my cracked-out thoughts somehow made your day… or more. Here’s another chapter for our dearly beloved Toto. Enjoy xx

masterlist

vi. love on camera

I’ve been with the sky sports people for almost three hours now. My feet are thankful for sticking to a pair of low pump heels instead of running around the paddock and garage with a five inch heel.

And I’ve been thanking myself for dressing well enough today. It doesn’t even look like I’m here as a support for Red Bull. My linen shirt is loosely tucked in my bell-bottom jeans, two buttons are undone to allow the air to flow freely through my body. The Chanel belt hugs me so tight, I feel as if I have little to no oxygen to breathe in. A Red Bull jacket is worn over my shirt, and I left it unzipped as I feel warm.

I had never worked on a full live set before. It was nerve wracking to say the least. But after finding out that my father practically sold me, I feel as if I have nothing to lose. Suddenly I’m worse than a pessimist.

My sisters made sure to tell me that I’m live on television by sending filtered photos of myself. Our youngest sister is the one having the field day with the group chat. She’s been showing her friends that I’m on television. She better be thankful I love her. I never enjoyed being the topic of a discussion. I’ve heard enough from Christian, thank you.

So far, I haven’t thrown up nor fainted. That counts right? That means that my first two interviews went alright. I just have to laugh along. That’s what I did with Fernando and Kimi. They just laughed along, and flirted a little with me.

Or rather, Fernando joked and Kimi flirted; something about going for a drink? Yeah, certainly. The man doesn’t even talk much, but the Iceman definitely suggested we went for a drink (the right words were: “There’s a bar downstairs at the hotel that you may like.”) Fernando’s married and has a nearly year old baby— I would really hate to do something demoralizing.

It turns out, laughing along with their banter will bite me in the ass. Because I know my sisters will be the ones laughing at the television.

The cameras are already recording and I can’t hear myself speaking as I introduce Lewis and Nico Rosberg to the camera as if I’m speaking to an audience. Then I remember talking about the qualifying today, asking Nico about taking the pole for tomorrow.

My words are simply flowing out of my mouth as the interview goes on.

“Are you excited?” Few minutes passed by, I then turned to ask Lewis a question.

“For wha’?” He asks, obviously confused as he zoned out during my conversation with Nico.

“Home race? You coming from Britain and representing the country?” I remind him before joking, “Or did you forget you’re British too?”

“I certainly did,” he realizes what I meant just about now, “but yes. I’m very excited. If the weather treats me right tomorrow, I’m confident that I’ll be able to make it to somewhere of a higher rank.”

“It’s okay, Lewis,” I chuckle, Nico rolls his eyes beside me. “You can say P1. No one’s going to be against that.”

“You want me to get P1?” He teases me.

My face gives an incredulous expression, making him laugh. I joke, “I feel like I’ve told you this a million times now, Lewis. Do you want me to whisper it in your ears while you sleep too?”

“God, no,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “your support is highly appreciated, Tils. I am so glad you’re here.”

“That’s why you should go for P1 tomorrow,” I nudged him, microphone still in hand.

“Only for you, lovely,” he lips pucker up as I roll my eyes and place my flat palm against it. He murmurs against my palm, making people around us giggle.

Nico adds, “I think you shouldn’t appreciate her support that much, mate. She still works at Red Bull.”

Lewis finally pulls away and gives me a mocking dirty look, “Right. I knew there’s something dodgy about you.”

“Thanks Nico, for turning my own best friend against me,” I exclaim in a cheery tone, a smile still in my face as there’s a voice incoming. There he is.

My smile widens, I feel like I’ll have wrinkles at this early age. The space immediately shrunk when Toto stepped into the scene. He stands a few inches taller than me, interrupting his drivers’ interviews.

“And here we have,” I introduce him to the camera and ask him about his thoughts on his drivers’ positions for tomorrow. I absentmindedly nod, looking at Lewis and Nico here and there to avoid being caught staring at the tall bloke. Have you ever seen someone so fit you’d continuously waffle on about them until he gives you the chance to snog you? This certainly isn’t me talking.

“Are you supporting Lewis tomorrow?” He asks me with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Surely you are, right?”

“I’m wearing a Red Bull jacket, guys,” their voices let out the heaviest laughter I have ever heard. “I’m certainly supporting Lewis, a Mercedes driver, to win tomorrow. Me, someone who’s wearing a Red Bull jacket.”

Then, as I was chatting with the drivers, Toto pulls his sleeves up and takes off his black jacket, the three pointed star and his name embroidered. His outstretched hand holds the jacket in my direction as I pause from talking.

“What, what is this?” I ask, almost playfully. What’s he doing?

“You said you can’t support Lewis because you’re wearing a Red Bull jacket,” Toto shrugs with a cheeky smile, “you can have my Mercedes one. It’s a bit big but so is your jacket.”

“I really am jesting, Toto,” I giggle, watching him pull his hand back with a little smile. “I’ve said that I won’t be playing favourites so I will stick to my neutral place.”

Lewis reaches for the microphone and speaks over it, “She’s lying. She’ll support me regardless of what jacket she wears. Us Brits have to stick together.”

“There you have it, folks,” I gesture at Lewis, “he’s explained it perfectly well. Us Brits have to stick together, indeed. I hope I don’t get banned from my own workplace after this— if I did, thanks Mercedes.”

“Well we told you that we’d be more than willing to take you in,” I look at Toto as he smirks, “it would be a shame for their part if they let you go.”

“You lads flatter me so much,” I roll my eyes mockingly, grinning at the three as I say, “As I said, I’m supporting Lewis because it’s Lewis. I did not say I favour one team over the other.”

“You will, soon enough,” Nico chuckles.

Lewis pulls me in and says, “If I win tomorrow you should do what you have to do.”

“What do I have to do?” I ask him, wondering what he’s hinting at.

He shrugs and whispers to my ear, “Go on a date with Toto.”

I pull back and stare at him for a second. I really considered that huh. As if I hadn’t gone already.

“I have already. So don’t get too cocky, eh,” I tell him, his eyes widening as he eyes Toto for a second, my nudge tells him to stop as I dismiss the matter, “having an ego can get you places. But not P1.”

“Watch me,” Lewis grins at me. Like a piece of shit. His eyes also are asking me to tell him more about what was just revealed. I nod briefly, excited to tell him about it.

“Well,” I look at the camera, “that’s it for today. Tomorrow will be the 9th race of the 2014 FIA World Championship and we cannot wait to see how these drivers perform in such weather conditions. Best of luck to all. My name is Tilly and I hope you have a good night. Thank you once again, guys.”

It didn’t take long until the wires on my body were taken off by Lydia, their media pen assistant. Nico and Lewis had already left. Toto waits for me until I start walking off the scene.

We walk all the way to the motorhomes, silence shared between the two of us.

“You left quite fast earlier,” Toto utters. This is the first time we’ve walked together since earlier this morning, and this is the first time he’s spoken to me after I’ve managed to avoid him hours after the breakfast date. I look at him.

Then I remember walking away from the scene after arriving at the venue. Now I know what to tell him after seeing me speed walk from the sight of him and the journalists.

“Some of the reporters in there were the same people who harass me whenever I’m out and about,” I explain, not wanting to make a big deal out of it as I continue, “I didn’t want to be the centre of the attention today especially now that… yeah.”

“With you interviewing the drivers for Sky Sports, I can assume Christian told you about Julius’ promotion?”

I let out a heavy sigh, shutting my eyes close for a moment as I tuck my hands into the pockets. How do I not lose my shit?

“It’s something Julius needs to speak to me about,” I grimace, “if he wants me to do this then he’ll have to tell me upfront.”

But it’s not like he’ll ever show up. I’ve never seen him since the day I was called to his office building. That was when I was told about this role that I didn’t think would be… important and big.

“He’s a bit more involved than I thought,” I laugh humourlessly, “I don’t even know how to start with it. I don’t know how you do it.”

“You’re just handling however much you can,” he tells me, “Christian and the others are more than happy to help you get a head start. You don’t have to get yourself involved with the engineering and strategy part.”

“I have three degrees,” I deadpan, “three of which have nothing to do with building a car, let alone know the full terminologies. So between my father and I, I think I have less advantage in this field and he’ll most likely fail if I’m the one taking care of it.”

He pauses for a second, making me stop walking as well. My eyes are staring at his dark ones, my brows quirked at his sudden pause.

“You are confident in front of a camera,” he starts, “I think you should be confident with how you will handle the business passed on to you, no?”

“Yeah I suppose,” I sigh, putting my head down as I keep my hands tucked into my pockets. “I need to stop being sad.”

But his chuckle did it for me. That and the way his heavy hand reached to mess with my hair. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?” I ask him, looking up at him once more only to witness his eyes twinkling.

“Back to the hotel because we all have a long day tomorrow,” he tells me, “that, and I do not exactly wish to have a conversation with any other people at the moment.”

“Pshh,” I scoff with a grin, nudging him while I wag my eyebrows, “I have heard a lot about you from Christian.”

“Huh? Really?” He asks, his face has a mischievous smile that I’ll never mistake for someone else’s. I’ve seen him smile a lot. It’s quite a shame other people never did. He’s handsome and not many people have seen it. Too bloody blind, if they haven’t.

Or he needs to smile more. But that’ll only scare people off.

“Yeah,” I nod, “something about you deliberately approaching him yesterday?” I raise a brow, still not letting go of my shit eating grin. I then notice the collar of his jacket and reach out to fix it as I playfully say, “Some may say that you’re interested in their acting Liaison.”

“Hmm,” he hums as if he’s considering it, “did I not show you that earlier today at breakfast?”

I burst into a fit of laughter as I shake my head, as if I’m telling him, “Unbelievable.”

Have I ever mentioned that this is happening around other people? People with cameras?

And here I am whining about adding fuel to the fire. It’s quite difficult not to if the man in front of me continues on doing what he does best. Existing.

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kyouryokusenshi · 9 months

Note

Lol hello, I have another prompt and I thought of you. Could we see a small collection of sweet things people (like Skinner, TLG, Doggett, anyone) tried to do to help Scully while she was pregnant w/ William? I just think it's so adorable thinking of any of these people having to deal with a preganant woman, let alone Scully.

A Symphony of Support

@today-in-fic

The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered through the blinds of Dana Scully's apartment, casting a warm hue over the room. Her thoughts drifted to the past three months as she gingerly rubbed her growing belly. Her first and second trimesters of pregnancy had been undoubtedly difficult, and countless times she thought she’d lose the baby, especially when they found Mulder.

It was a miracle. Scully had decided early on that she wanted to wait for a surprise, much to her mother’s chagrin. She didn’t understand it because she was sure her mother had to wait until her children were born before they knew the sex. Usually, she detested surprises, but she wanted complete autonomy over this one. Scully felt the baby was a boy, the mother’s intuition and all that, but all she truly cared about was that the baby was a healthy human—nothing more and nothing less.

Despite the difficult past several months, little did she know that a network of unlikely allies was conspiring to make the remainder of this journey as smooth and memorable as possible.

Assistant Director Walter Skinner, a man of authority and discipline, was not one to easily reveal his softer side. However, when he learned of her pregnancy, his concern for her well-being took precedence. Not only did he have her back countless times to prevent her pregnancy from being used against her, but she’d also learned that he discreetly rearranged her assignments these past few months, keeping her away from high-stress cases. Despite her doctor’s insistence on pulling back from the field, she'd refused desk duty.

"Your health comes first, Agent Scully," he would assert, his stern expression belying the genuine care in his voice.

Normally, she would have fought back, insisting that her pregnancy was a condition, not a disability, but she knew he was right. After they found Mulder, there was no reason to continue taking unnecessary risks with her and the baby’s health.

Once she started to show, the whispers and questions of water cooler conversation were inevitable; however, she couldn’t help but note the immediate silence that followed them each time AD Skinner made his presence known.

In an unexpected twist of fate, the Lone Gunmen, the eccentric conspiracy theorists, emerged as Scully's unexpected allies. Frohike, Langly, and Byers, fueled by their insatiable curiosity, immersed themselves in research about prenatal care and parenting. They handed her a meticulously compiled information folder with quirky footnotes and personalized advice. "Trust us, Scully; we know more than you'd think about babies," Frohike would chuckle, his enthusiasm infectious.

Scully couldn’t help the tears that betrayed her; damned pregnancy hormones. It sounded like something Mulder would have done.

Initially, she couldn’t stand Agent John Doggett, a large part of said water cooler conversations. However, he quickly proved his steadfast determination. Scully had recently learned of his son, Luke, who had been tragically killed during his days in NYPD. They shared an equal passion for justice. And his pursuit was one that she could appreciate and understand.

He had formed an unlikely bond with Scully, having her back throughout every twist and turn.

From carrying heavy files to checking in on her to offering helpful tips and suggestions, he’d remembered from his ex-wife’s pregnancy. "I've got your back, Agent Scully. Always," he would say with a reassuring smile.

With her empathetic nature, Agent Monica Reyes sensed the depth of Scully's emotions. Having faced her share of challenges as an adoptee, Reyes quickly lent a sympathetic ear and shared her insights. They often spent evenings talking, finding solace in each other's company. It was an openness she likened to her late sister, Melissa. She felt a gravitational pull she couldn’t explain after their first encounter, making her reach out to the New Orleans field agent, curious to learn more.

"You're not alone in this, Dana. We're in it together," Reyes would remind her, her eyes reflecting genuine understanding.

As Scully's due date drew closer, the collective efforts of Skinner, the Lone Gunmen, Doggett, and Reyes reached a crescendo. They came together to orchestrate a surprise baby shower, a testament to the camaraderie they had formed. Skinner secured a charming venue, the Lone Gunmen curated an eclectic playlist, Doggett handled the logistics, and Reyes planned heartwarming games.

The day of the baby shower arrived, and Scully walked into the room, her heart swelling with gratitude. The decorations were a blend of quirky conspiracy-themed elements and heartwarming sentiments. Laughter and conversations flowed freely, creating an atmosphere of warmth and unity. As Scully mingled with her friends and colleagues, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness as she realized once more that Mulder would not be there to share the journey.

Scully couldn't help but feel blessed. Skinner, the Lone Gunmen, Doggett, and Reyes had each played a unique note in this melody of support, and together, they had created a harmonious tune that resonated deep within her heart. Still, there would always be a gaping hole that somebody wouldn’t fill, that would only be filled by one person—her touchtone.

#mulderandscully #xfilesfanfic #thexfiles #x files season 8 #pregnant scully

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cosmik-homo · 4 months

Note

Sending u kaladin and Kelsier for blorbo bingo!

Kaladin

The THING w kaladin stormblessed as a blorbo is. you gotta understand i was reading the just-released-the-day-before premier preorder WOR translation on the bus in seventh grade field trip. kaladin stormblessed has been blorbo so long- hes been part of my LIFE so long i love him fiercely and have blorbo emotions but also we went to high school together im not gonna marvel that hes there and what crushes i had a much less fierce now. that being siad he is theee character ever doylistically absolute king of being a guy in a book. and watsonianly i am so so proud of him and hows he doing now and from both perspectives if he dies in s5 im tracking down brandon sanderson and putting explosive flies in his soup.

Kelsier

Again im sure these would be different if you caught me at a Cosmere Hyperfixation- stick around lets see what i become during stormlight5- AND theres the added. my emotions r being filtered through depressive episode, but. My lead emotion looking at this- while for kaladin it was affection and pride.admiration- was the memory of going "MOTHERFUCKER" and throwing the book in the end of That Last Fuckin Chapter of Rhythm Of War. running to find my mom (cosmere comrade, usually finishes books a bit before me) and going HES FUCKIN AT IT AGAIN. and he IS this man has been delivering MOTHERFUCKER moments for the past 6+ years and I NEED him to just be normal. youre a 16th century peasant stop trying to split the atom or whatever the fuckk youre up to. i NEED the church of the survivor to stop praying to my awful crime grandpa he is getting too powerful. hes the worst man ever and hes great and i miss him so much and- yeah im losing my mind now the adrenaline rush of accidentally giving myself new ideas about what the ghostbloods are up to has made all the "Hur dur sorry im not super tuned to care on these fandoms rn" a bit redundant. UNSTOPPABLE BITCH. and now oh god i just remembered the live experience that was fortnite night. yea im gonna go wash my face

#this was in draft cuz i was really? live broadcast mental breakdown? but this is actually hilarious so

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downwiththeficness · 3 months

Text

Shadow and Veil-Chapter Thirty Nine

Summary: Eva Moore’s life was a carefully constructed fiction. Every day, she did exactly what her mother in law, her husband, and his best friend expected of her. No mistakes. And, that was going pretty well for Eva right up until a huge complication literally tried to run her over. Now, she’s faced with trying to keep the pieces of her life from falling apart while attempting (and failing) to keep her feelings for her husband’s new business partner at bay.

A/N: This fic is a sister-fic to A Need So Great and A Need Unleashed. You do not need to have read ANSG or ANU to read this fic, but there are Easter eggs from those fics in Shadow and Veil for readers with keen eyes. This fic is explicit for canon-compliant blood, gore, violence, and sex. As such, it is intended for an adult audience, only. A/B/O dynamics come with their own warning. Anyone under the age of 18 should not interact with this work. I do not consent to reposting this work to other platforms. Reblog only to Tumblr.

Word Count: ~4,800

Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Masterlist Read on AO3

Eva was glad she asked Horacio for a recommendation on the restaurant.

The little cafe was nice—not too nice—and Aida seemed to know the wait staff. She greeted them by name and engaged in a little small talk on the way to the table. Eva followed along dutifully with her sweater folded over her arm and a small, secret smile on her lips.

They were seated at a table next to one of the large windows that spanned across the front of the building. Sunlight filtered through the glass, giving the room a bright and airy ambiance. The heavenly smell of coffee and spices wafted from the kitchen.

Aida settled into her seat and asked the waiter to bring them a pitcher of water and a fresh set of silverware. The smile on Eva’s lips widened as she watched the staff scurry to do as Aida wished. She pretended to focus on arranging her sweater on the back of her chair and the napkin in her lap. Folding her hands together, Eva let her expression fall into something both congenial and neutral. And then, she waited.

Aida moved the tiny vase of flowers between them an inch to her right, she straightened the salt and pepper shakers, she adjusted the collar of her dress. Then, with nothing left to correct, she looked Eva in the eye.

“My son is not an impulsive man.”

To say that Eva was stunned would be an understatement. Aida’s English was as polished as Horacio’s, possibly more. She spoke with the softest hint of an accent, all confidence. The ease with Eva’s native language, however, did nothing to assuage the accusation in Aida’s tone.

Hands curling in on themselves, Eva made herself say, “No. He isn’t.”

Aida blinked, accepting that they were both on the same page, “Then, you understand how a sudden...marriage would be out of character for him.”

Eva nodded. She had been preparing all week for this moment, wondering how Aida would bring it up. Eva was glad she was being direct about it. She was out of practice fielding passive aggression from people who did not like her.

The waiter dropped off the water pitcher, two glasses, and silverware. Aida thanked him and poured a healthy serving into each glass before sliding one over to Eva, “What changed?”

A whole fucking lot, Eva thought, unkindly.

She licked her lips and let go of the initial burst of anger that came with the memories of how Eva made it out of Louisiana. Aida would likely never know how difficult it was for Eva, or the fine line Horacio walked while he negotiated his feelings for her with the demands of his job. All she saw was what Horacio wanted her to see, and Eva respected that.

“I don’t think anything changed,” Eva said, eventually.

Aida’s gaze narrowed, “Liar.” She leaned forward, “If you were my daughter, I’d slap you for telling lies.”

Direct and aggressive. Eva was getting a two-for with this conversation. That was fine. She could work with direct and aggressive.

The waiter returned to take their order. Aida spoke for the two of them—just coffee, they wouldn’t be here long.

Eva let the waiter get out of hearing distance, then said, “Mrs. Carrillo, I am not your daughter. Frankly, I don’t expect you to treat me like it. What I am is Horacio’s wife.” She paused, let that sink in, then continued in an airy voice, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your son and I have started a bond.” Another pause, longer this time. “And, I hope some day soon that bond will be completed.”

Aida looked away briefly, “I am not surprised that my son has honor.”

At first, Eva didn’t follow, but her brain caught up eventually. And, when it did, she found depth of offense that made her ears burn. “Your son asked me about it first.”

She might be willing to take a few across the chin for the sake of Horacio’s relationship with Aida, but she wasn’t about to be painted as a woman who trapped a man into something he didn’t want. Aida didn’t need to know the details, but there was going to be no doubt between them that Horacio was fully on board with their bond and would continue to be on board for the foreseeable future.

The coffee was set in front of them.

Eva picked up her cup and breathed deeply in an effort to reset, “I’m not interested in driving a wedge between you and Horacio.”

Aida scoffed, “Our relationship is not weak.”

“But, mine is?” Eva shot back, “With Horacio—my relationship with him is weak?”

“It is new.”

She set her cup down, “I’ll give you that.”

“And untested,” Aida added. “Marriage is work. Hard work.”

God, did Eva know that.

“I’m willing to do the hard work,” she said in a firm, even tone.

Aida very nearly rolled her eyes, “Have you ever worked a day in your life?”

Another left turn. Eva felt the first impulse to give up the effort it was clearly going to take to have an actual conversation with the woman wander around the forefront of her mind. Only the fact that the coffee in her hand was extremely good kept Eva in her seat.

“Excuse me?” she asked, between sips.

Picking up her own cup, Aida gestured towards Eva, “You’re wearing diamonds in your ears. The blouse you’re wearing is silk. Your shoes are high end leather, possibly Italian. There is not a single callus on your hands.”

It looked a lot like Horacio got more than just his stubborn nature from his mother. Eva could admit that Aida had a point, even if she’d drawn the wrong conclusion. Still, she had a point of her own to make.

“Ask the waiter for a calculator.”

“What?”

Eva repeated herself.

Aida looked at her askance, but flagged down the waiter. When she had the device in hand, she looked at Eva with expectation.

“Pick any two numbers. Make them as large or as small as you like.”

The woman in front of her hesitated, thinking, “Four hundred fifty seven and eighty five.”

“Multiply them,” Eva directed. Then, half a beat later, said, “Thirty eight thousand, eight hundred and forty five.”

Aida tapped out the number, then look up at Eva with surprise. Good. She’d gotten the woman’s attention.

“You want to try again?”

The calculator was set aside, “No.”

Eva nodded, “The diamonds were a gift and I earned the money I used to pay for these clothes.” She picked up her mug and sipped, “I understand you have hesitations. That’s normal. But, I reckon you should take some time to get to know me before you start adding two and two together. As you can see, I’m better at it than you are.”

Aida was silent for a moment, then her spine straightened and she said, “Horacio wanted to be a priest when he was little.”

Eva almost choked on her coffee, “What?”

Brows lifting, Aida replied, “You said you wanted to know what Horacio was like as a boy. He wanted to be a priest. But, after his father died, Horacio decided to follow in his footsteps.”

Feeling warm, all Eva could say in response was, “Oh?”

A few hours and several very enlightening stories later, Eva walked through the front door of the house. She hung up her coat and toed off her shoes. The house was silent, not even the television was on. Eva walked around the first floor, then climbed the stairs to the second.

She slowed as she rounded the door to the bedroom. Leaning against the jamb, Eva grinned while she watched Horacio snooze on the bed. He was lying on top of the covers with one arm thrown over his head. His chest was rising and falling steadily. She could just barely hear a soft snore over the sound of the fan.

He hadn’t even taken off his shoes.

Not wanting to wake him, Eva padded down the stairs and plopped onto the couch. She turned the TV on at low volume and flipped to the right channel so that she could catch up on the love triangle between Sergio, Maria, and Luz.

Luz had just found a letter to Sergio from Maria buried at the bottom of an old chest of drawers. Her heart, of course, was breaking at the thought of her husband-to-be having an affair. Eva wondered if the woman portrayed so consistently as sweet and timid would be driven to an outrageous bout of jealousy.

Too bad she wouldn’t find out until the next episode.

Eva let the next program roll even though she wasn’t nearly as interested in the story line. About ten minutes in, Horacio ambled down the stairs. He yawned wide as he cleared the landing. Eva stifled a giggle.

“Almost dinner,” he rasped, “Hungry?”

She was, and said as much. Aida might have relented somewhat in her initial assessment of Eva, but she hadn’t changed her mind about just having coffee.

“I’ll throw something together,” Horacio said, and he disappeared into the kitchen.

After the show was over, Eva got up and wandered after him. Horacio was standing at the stove, sauteing vegetables. She eased around him on her way to the fridge where she grabbed a beer for each of them. A quick search of the silverware drawer and she had a bottle opener in her hand.

Horacio smiled at her when she handed him the beer, “How was lunch?”

Eva shrugged, “I think it went well.”

His brows lifted in surprise, “Really?” Then, “Hand me that cutting board.”

She picked it up and gave it to him, “We’re not best friends, but I think we’re in a better place.”

Horacio looked dubious, but went about adding garlic and onion to the meat sizzling in the pan. Eva lifted up and kissed his cheek, catching his satisfied smirk before turning to set the table. She had just set down the napkins when Horacio left the kitchen with two steaming plates.

“Another drink?” she asked, knowing he would say yes.

Fresh beers in hand, Eva sat down next to Horacio and dug in. He was a much better cook, could make a simple dish of fried meat and vegetables taste like something from the best restaurant in town. She guessed all those years manning the grill in his teens were paying off.

“I need to talk with you about something that happened today.”

Eva’s fork paused on its way to her mouth, “Okay.”

Horacio sighed, “I got a fax from Javier. He’s been tracking the situation in the States.”

Her stomach dropped along with her fork. She didn’t like what he was saying, didn’t like the tone he was using while saying it.

“You were right,” he said, “about Josh. He set up in Mexico. Partnered with a local cartel.”

Eva scoffed, “I wonder how that’s going.”

“Very well, apparently,” Horacio replied. He was quiet for a few seconds, then, “He’s been looking for Diego. Asking every mule and dealer he can find.”

The hair on Eva’s arms stood on end. She knew exactly how much Josh would blame Diego for the state of his life. Exactly how much he would be seeking revenge.

“I’ve been asked to help track him down.”

“Track who down?”

Another sigh, this time more forceful, “You know who. I’ve been asked to...become Diego again so that Josh can be extradited back where he belongs.”

Eva’s lip curled, “Mexico can’t handle one fucking criminal?”

Horacio shifted in his seat, “You know how smart he is. What he’s willing to do.”

“Yeah. I do,” she replied, “And, if you get within fifty miles of him, he’ll put a bullet in your chest before you have a chance to say a single word.”

“You’re underestimating him. He’ll want to gloat first.”

Angry, Eva spat, “This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m not laughing.”

She shook her head, “No. No. They can find him some other way. You’re not going to do their job for them.”

Horacio fixed her with a long look. His lips pulled through his teeth and a cool hand walked down Eva’s spine.

“You’ve already agreed,” she croaked. “God damn it, Horacio.”

He held up his hand in defense, “They needed someone with experience.”

Jaw clenched, Eva gripped her fork until it felt like the metal would cut through her palm, “I’m coming with you.” When he went to argue with her, she added, “You’re not doing this by yourself. Either I’m sitting next to you on the flight, or I’ll be on the next flight right behind you.”

“Eva…”

“This is not a discussion,” she snapped. “You go. I go. If I don’t go, you don’t go.”

Horacio stared at her and Eva could see the him working through the problem and trying to find a way to change her mind. She met his stare with one of her own, prepared to take apart every argument until he relented. Failing that, she would rely on sheer stubborn will.

The phone rang.

Eva rolled her eyes and picked up their nearly empty plates while Horacio went to answer it. She already knew who it was, already knew that the rest of their evening would be a wash. In an hour or two, Horacio would still be sitting at the dining room table, talking to whoever was on the other side. As much as she understood how important Horacio’s job was, it was still frustrating that it got in the way of them living their lives so often.

She washed and dried the dishes, then leaned her palms on the counter while she tried to think. It was stupid of her to assume that, just because she left the country, her past would remain in Louisiana. It was even more stupid to think that Josh would give up on his project that easily.

Eva was serious when she told Horacio that she would be right behind him if he went to Mexico. They were in this together, had been in this together since that moment on the sidewalk. There was no way she was going to let him deal with it alone. They were a team, now. Partners.

Husband and wife.

She pushed from the counter and made her way upstairs. In the bedroom, Eva found her jewelry bag and opened it. She sifted around through it until she found the small, black box from the jewelry store. It was heavy in her hand, the leather shining dimly in the light.

Decision made, Eva went back to the dining room where Horacio was sitting in his usual position at the head of the table. The phone was sitting off to the side and he held the receiver to his ear. His head was in his hand and his shoulders were slumped. Eva watched him nod, heard him made a soft ‘uh huh’ sound. He looked...a little bit defeated.

Horacio glanced up.

Not defeated.

Annoyed.

Eva could empathize with him. The longer she looked at Horacio sitting there with the phone to his ear, the more she hated the fucking thing—and anyone on the other side of the line.

A low voice spoke to her in the back of her mind...he might be required to do his job that evening, but Eva was free to do whatever the fuck she wanted. There was no one to tell her she couldn’t find a way to enjoy herself.

Carefully, so that he didn’t see it, she opened the box and slid its contents over her thumb for safekeeping. Then, she set the box aside and walked over to him. Horacio’s eyes followed her the whole way. They were narrowed in both question and curiosity.

Eva smiled.

One by one, she thumbed open the buttons on the front of her dress, until it hung open from her shoulders. A shrug, and it fell to the floor at her feet. Eva reveled in the way Horacio’s jaw dropped. She let him get a long look that lingered over her breasts and hips. Then, she wiggled between the chair and the table so that she could sit in his lap.

He gave a nervous, bemused laugh and started to end the conversation. The attempt was halted mid-word, distracted by a fast, urgent tone on the other side. Around the handle of the receiver, his hand flexed hard. The other hand fell into the bend of her waist.

Eva breathed deep, taking in his scent and the feeling of his body. Horacio was definitely a little bit confused, but he wasn’t stopping her. She threaded her arms around his shoulders, careful not to jar the phone, and laid her head on his shoulder so that her nose touched the soft skin of his neck.

He was tense beneath her, which she expected. But, the longer she sat, the more relaxed he became—which she also expected. The conversation resumed, though Horacio mostly listened. His sporadic responses were not much more than an indication that he’d heard and understood what was being said.

She ran her fingers through his hair, disrupting the pomade. Horacio smiled softly and leaned into the touch. He brushed a kiss to her temple and looped his arm around her body to hold her close. It stunted her movements a little, but she compensated for it by brushing her lips ever so closely, but not quite, over his gland.

Eva lay like that, playing his with hair and listening to his heart thump in his chest, until Horacio made an angry sound in the back of his throat. Fast, cutting words left his mouth and he sat up, taking Eva with him.

Balanced on his thighs, she ran a soothing hand down his neck and shoulder. He resisted her, turning his head to the side and spitting more angry words into the phone. Eva didn’t bother to try to follow the conversation. She focused on the man in her arms, took note of the way his scent shifted and soured.

Eva’s plan seemed to collapse in front of her and she wondered if she even stood a chance against Horacio’s sense of duty to his job. He was as dedicated now as he had been in the States—possibly more.

Her hands drifted over his chest and the glint of the ring on her thumb caught her attention. The sight of it hardened her resolve. He could be dedicated to his job, but Eva wasn’t going to let it become the thing that stirred resentment between them.

They had come too far for that.

Taking his hand, she laid it against her cheek. His scent filled her nose, easing the sharp edge of frustration that wanted to overcome the faint rise of arousal in her belly. Horacio’s eyes focused on her face, the angry cant of them softening. He looked very much like he wanted to kiss her. Eva indulged him. Mindful of the mouthpiece of the phone, scant inches away, Eva touched her lips to his chastely. Once. Twice. She pinched his chin between her thumb and forefinger and held back a giggle when he cut his eyes to the side and had to ask for the caller to repeat their question.

His hand trailed down her neck and chest in a slow glide. Eva arched into the touch to encourage him. The heavy weight of his palm curved around her breast, kneading firmly. His gaze followed the movement of his hand in rapt attention. It grew more focused by the second and the sourness in his scent faded away to be replaced with the first blush of spice and heat.

With gentle pressure, Eva pushed him into the back of the chair. It was an easy motion, not a hint of resistance. He got comfortable, hips tucking under so that she could sit higher on his thighs. She felt a little thrill go through her when it became clear that he was willing to let her lead.

The buckle of his uniform dug into the inner muscle of her hip. She tried to shift around it to ease the ache, but couldn’t find a position that worked. That was fine—it needed to go, anyway. Eva reached down and nimbly tugged the leather through. With the two sides angled upwards, she could sit exactly as she pleased.

Horacio pulled the phone away from his ear and held it out as far away as he could, “Eva, what are you doing?”

She didn’t think there was any need to actually answer his question. Eva was being pretty clear about her intentions. Rocking forward, she kissed him firmly. She meant for it to be a quick, hard kiss. The kind of kiss that both answered his question and stunned the confusion out of him.

That’s not what happened.

It started that way, but Horacio easily took the reins from her. He deepened it, coaxing her mouth open so that he could twine his tongue with hers.

The sound of his name and rank rang out—tinny and somehow far away and too close. Horacio pulled back with a loud breath and brought the phone back to his ear. He quickly made his excuses, complained about a bad connection, and volleyed a few words back and forth.

Eva, not to be outdone, shimmied backwards a little bit to give herself some room and palmed the fly of his uniform. Horacio’s whole body flinched and his eyes unfocused briefly. He shook his head to clear it and wrapped his fingers around her wrist to keep her still.

She let him hold her there for a long time while she waited for her next opportunity. When he rolled his eyes dramatically and went into an explanation about policy that she knew would go on a while, Eva deftly loosed her wrist and reached back to unclasp her bra.

It was so satisfying to watch him stumble over his words, repeat himself, and then fall silent. His expression was lost, almost helpless. He went to set the phone back into the cradle—and, again, she stopped him. Eva wanted to know how far he’d let her take this. She wanted to know how far she would take it.

Arm around her middle, Horacio pulled Eva into his chest. He laid his forehead against her temple, nose pressing into her cheek. His lungs filled with a deep breath. And, on the exhale, was a barely audible groan.

She smiled and ran her hand from the crown of his head down to the nape of his neck. Here, she massaged tense muscle. Horacio’s chin dipped and he rooted around until he found the soft swell of her gland. He nuzzled it, taking another deep breath.

Eva’s eyes fluttered shut and her head tipped back. Pleasure sizzled over her nerves in rapid succession. She bit her lip to keep quiet, pressing even closer to him. Warm breath puffed against her skin. His eyelashes brushed against her jaw. The room was so very quiet.

Except for the voice on the phone.

Eva could hear Horacio’s smile when he replied. He pulled back to look at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. He licked his lips and dropped his head back against the chair, silently handing the control back to her.

Eva slipped the first two buttons on his shirt through the holes, spreading the fabric. Hanging from his neck was the gold chain he always wore. The pendant was warm from his body. Eva used it to pull him forward for a nearly silent kiss. His mouth lingered, following hers for another, slower, kiss. He broke away to listen for a moment, gave a two word reply, then kissed her again.

Horacio released her mouth, grinning when Eva made a sound of want. His grin held while he talked into the phone, explaining that he would be available the next day for a meeting. Eva barely heard him over the challenge growing in her chest.

With quick hands, she got the fly of his pants open and pushed her hand down inside. Horacio cursed beneath his breath, hips lifting to meet her palm. His mouth opened, breathing sawing in and out. The amusement in his expression was long gone, replaced by hot arousal.

Her hold on his attention was brief.

Another bout of urgent words took it, along with Eva’s patience.

While he was distracted, Eva shifted her weight and eased him out of his uniform. His eyes dropped to her hand, but he was still talking. Eva stroked him a few times, thumb gathering the little bead of moisture on the tip to ease the way. Then, she gathered her courage and rose up onto her toes. Pulling her underwear to the side, Eva balanced on the tip and let gravity pull her down very, very slowly. She was wet, but the pressure momentarily took her breath. Even after all the times he’d been inside her, Eva’s body still resisted.

The man beneath her slapped his hand against the mouthpiece of the phone and hissed loudly. His body bowed up driving him deeper inside. Eva grunted and grabbed the back of the chair.

While they caught their breaths, Eva intentionally relaxed the muscles of her thighs, slowly dropping down until her hips were flush against his. She stared down at where they were connected for a long time. Eva could barely believe what she was doing, but there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to stop. She looked up at him with wide eyes, seeing her own shock reflected back at her.

Good.

Feeling like she’d fully regained the upper hand, Eva draped her arms over his shoulders and rested her head in the bend of his neck. His heart was pounding in his chest and a tremble wracked his body. She heard him swallow audibly and it took effort to keep from grinning at the rasp in his voice as he murmured an absent reply.

Eva tried to sit still.

Impossible.

She couldn’t ignore him. Couldn’t forget that he was inside her, filling her. Every breath was scented with him. Every minuscule movement reminded her that she was sitting astride a man who not only knew how to play her body until it sang, but was willing to use that knowledge to drive her into oblivion.

Eva managed to keep from shifting around for half a minute at a time. At regular intervals, she was compelled to move—to grind, to rock, to fuck. Horacio encouraged her, sometimes anticipating her need to rise and fall in tandem. She stared at him, feeling too hot, too needy, and her hand drifted over his cheek, catching the rough stubble.

The ring.

It still sat around her thumb, shining in the ambient light of the room. Eva blinked rapidly, her chest clenching around a feeling that she didn’t recognize. It was like affection, but stronger. Steadier.

Suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason, she pulled the ring free and reached for his left hand. Then, watching his face carefully, she pushed it over the knuckles of his ring finger.

Horacio choked a wordless gasp.

Eva was nearly jostled from her seat as he slammed the phone down. In almost the same movement, Horacio lifted her up and set her on the table. He grabbed her heels and jerked them to either side so they rested on the wooden top. Looming over her, Horacio grabbed his cock and lined it up, pushing inside quick and hard.

She cried out, eyes squeezing shut while stars danced behind her lids. Her hands pulled at his hair, his shoulders, his hips, telling him without words that she wanted more.

Horacio listened to her.

He fucked her with a strength he usually withheld—bruising, reckless. His face was buried in her neck, mouth biting between kisses. He leaned weight into her, forcing her into the table. His hands held her down. Still.

A painful sound hit her ears as he came. His whole body pulled so tight that the hands holding her began to hurt. He trembled. Kept trembling for long moments, even as he began to soften inside her.

Eva tried to relax beneath him, tried to calm the wild beat of her heart. She danced on the knife point of desire, suspended just beneath the crest of orgasm. A little more friction and she would get there.

Horacio didn’t let her wait long.

He eased back and sat heavily in the chair behind him. Then, he grabbed her calves and yanked her forward so that her legs dangled off the table.

Eva sat up on her elbow and lifted her brows at him.

Horacio smiled, “I didn’t get to finish dinner.”

#Shadow and Veil #Narcos #Horacio carrillo #carrillo #maurice compte #au #A/B/O dynamics

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hyuukais · 1 year

Text

I posted 1,185 times in 2022

That's 780 more posts than 2021!

99 posts created (8%)

1,086 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@dingdongyouarewrong

@gamerwoo

@nevoono

@i6wonsz

@crispy-chan

I tagged 465 of my posts in 2022

#ace talks - 400 posts

#- txt talks 🤍 - 34 posts

#- skz talks 🤍 - 25 posts

#srb - 20 posts

#- uquiz 🤍 - 18 posts

#ace rec’s ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ - 17 posts

#kpop imagines - 16 posts

#- moots <3 - 14 posts

#ficscafe - 14 posts

#matchmaker event ! - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#i’ve seen teens especially on tiktok talk about how gen z is gonna rule the world and take over and we’re so strong with our voices we can

My Top Posts in 2022:

9:00 PM

Word Count: 263

Genre: Riki x reader, fluff

Warnings: goes from 100-0 real quick so honestly nothing, but it starts off with explosions

Author: I want build legos with him :( man i just want someone to build legos and cuddle with :(((( i’m so lonely 💀 and thank you @seung-scrittore for beta reading :D

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276 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

Our Love In Dandelions

The day you two met, you made a wish on a dandelion. Today, the eve of your 21st birthday, you find yourself making that wish again.

Word count: 3.0k

Genre: Beomgyu x reader, soulmate au!, childhood friends-to-lovers au!, fluff, angst

Warnings: language

Author: Thank you so much @sunlightwoo for beta reading ! this was also how i realized that, at this point, the only fics i have written for gyu are childhood friends to lovers but it just works so well for him idk. anyways happy birthday to this special lad <3

Playlist: here

Kids can be ruthless. In a time before you really develop a filter, words come and go as they please. Be it the coldest insults a 5-year-old can muster or the weirdest questions on planet earth, things are said without much care. Having said that, kindergarten could be the worst place ever sometimes. At least that seemed to be the truth for the young boy you saw curled into himself across the playground. He sat at the edge of the primary play structure, far away from everyone else running around on the field. Head tucked into his knees; his body growing smaller as he pulled tighter and tighter into his chest. You had barely begun to learn the names or faces of your classmates, but you recognized the small yellow sweater clinging to his frame. Your mind recalled a little boy in your class wearing something similar today; he’d been extremely energetic during introductions.

He must be that boy.

Moving closer, something else in your little brain clicked at the soft shaking of his shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

The boy looked up at you. His eyes were glassy, cheeks red and puffy. He seemed so fragile, on the verge of tears. Meeting your eyes, he quickly wiped at the tear tracks marking his face.

“I-I’m fine.” The small words stuck to his throat.

Looking at his frame, shaking and alone, you decided to sit next to him, “But you’re crying.”

His mouth remained closed but he couldn’t turn to look at you.

“Why are you crying?”

“I-I wanted to go play w-with them, b-but they said I wasn’t allowed to.”

“Oh…well, you can play with me. If you want.”

The boy's soft sniffles silenced as he turned to you. “Huh?”

“Come on!” All of a sudden, his hand was in yours as you pulled him along behind you. Despite initial surprise he held, as you dragged him from game to game, the happy little boy you initially remembered surfaced once again. The two of you ran and jumped and played for what seemed like forever, off in your own little world. But, as recess slowly neared its end, so did your small pocket of joy.

Tired from all of your running, you two sat side by side in the grass.

“Look! Dandelions!” His tiny fingers plucked up a fuzzy, white ball from dirt before puffing out all the air in his lungs. Bunches of white fuzz broke apart, taking flight on their own.

“Whoa! How’d you do that!?”

“You just pick them up and blow on it, see?” He repeated his actions sending another flurry of white into the sky, “My mommy says if you make a wish while blowing, it’ll come true!”

“Really!?”

“Yep! My mommy is never wrong.”

“I wanna try!” You reached forward to the grass, fumbling around with the stem before pulling it out. Following all of his instructions, you take a deep breath before letting it all go. The seeds scatter across your vision and you quickly close your eyes to make your silent wish. When you opened them up, you found the boy watching you intently.

“What did you wish for?”

“I wish that we’ll play together every day and be best friends forever!”

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291 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

ASKING THE HH UNIT TO BUY PADS FOR YOU

Genre: SVT Hip Hop unit x afab! reader, fluff, comedy (?), smau

Warnings: language, discussion of periods (obviously), mentions of pregnancy and blood/bleeding (not excessive tho), no pronouns/gendered terms used for reader though they are implied afab

Author: lol idk 😎 posting this because i don’t want it in my drafts anymore ☝️

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493 notes - Posted April 21, 2022

Out Of Ten

rating the things they “accidentally” leave at your apartment

Word count: 435

Genre: TXT x Reader, headcanon, fluff

Warnings: yeonjun’s feels kinda suggestive at the end but none tbh, pg

Author: come get y’all juice 🧃

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538 notes - Posted May 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Happy Birthday

TXT wishing you a happy birthday!

Genre: TXT x Reader, SMAU, slice of life, comedy

Warnings: Language, suggestive jokes and innuendos, pg-13

Author: it’s my birthday and i decided to just put out something small just cause,,,but yay i’m older 🫡

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748 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #oh my god #lol #i didn’t post a lot of fics this year but i’m so happy with reception on the ones i did #thank you all for a wonderful year here at hyuukais inc

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transcriptroopers · 2 years

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Hi, sorry if you have already answered this question and I just couldn't find it (and also if you no longer answer questions, in that case please ignore me): I'm wondering if there's anything that soldiers have to know besides shooting/fighting. For example, do they have to know how to cook? Or do they have to know how to sew in case they tear their clothes or something like that? (And would it be realistic for soldiers to carry a water filter with them at all times?) Thanks in advance! :)

I think I did answer this before because it sounds familiar but idk.

I've said this before too but the vast majority of us will never be in a boots-on-ground survival situation. Less than 30% of the army is combat MOS and a very small amount of those will ever see actual combat. Many of us get initial combat training in Basic and then maybe one or two quick reminders a year after that.

The army generally doesn't care about practical skills. In the field most of us get MREs at the worst. If you get a tear in your fatigues there's these sticker things you can just put over it like a band aid. Obviously knowing how to sew is a useful skill to have if your uniform tears because the things cost like $70, but your unit commander might also just not ~like how it looks~ even if you've sewed it nicely and demand you buy new clothes. And I can't say I've ever seen a list of "essential survival tools" include a sewing kit.

You can enlist as an actual army cook; it's an MOS. When I was in the field they'd set up field kitchens for most meals and one meal a day would be MRE. Even when we got Kitchen Patrol (KP duty = kitchen duty) they just had us clean their stations and peel potatoes and serve the food, not actually do the cooking. Even if you were out in the wilderness or something, food isn't your main priority - shelter and water is. They say you can go a month without food but a few days at best with no water.

So the average soldier isn't expected to know how to cook or sew. Allegedly the tryhards of the army (airborne, green beret) do focus on some hunting/trapping but our survival skills mostly prioritize navigating, finding safe water to drink/making safe water to drink (carrying an individual water filter is just more stuff to carry we are literally already carrying 100 pounds of stuff including actual water) how to make shelters and which ones are better for which situations, shit like that.

That said soldiers are all individuals and at that point if you're asking if it's unrealistic for a person to know how to cook and sew then it's w/e. It's not really standard to learn but I bet a bunch of us know how to just make a DIY water filter because it's not that hard and imo that's more interesting in a story than handily having a premade water filter anyway.

#man i WISH my BCT covered actual practical skills #instead we just did glass houses for like six fucking weeks #I bought a sewing kit in ACT thinking I'd actually have time to use it and learn to sew #what an idiot lol #i honestly don't think the army wants us knowing how to do stuff like that #there was so much expectation that we just buy new uniforms! buy new boots!

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tysonfurybattlepass · 2 years

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If your ocs all had to fight battle royale style who would be the ultimate victor?

oh man, this is a tough one. i think it would boil down to two of them: kali and machairodonis

it would be easy to think that kali, being the biggest and tallest, would have a field day with the others, but i think there’s more to it than just busted ass stats.

see, kali may be fuckoff gigantic, but her special ability list isn’t really geared toward combat. she’s not a fighter build; she’s a survivalist build. her unique cheek teeth are designed for filter-feeding krill out of the water, but are not useful as weapons in combat. her claws are thin and small, so her paw swipes only do blunt force damage (make no mistake though, this will still absolutely kill pretty much anything smaller than her). she’s also an ambush predator that relies heavily on the stealth and mobility bonuses she gains when in deep water. on land, she’s significantly slower and more awkward. most notably though, she doesn’t really fight all that often. kali is solitary and rarely interacts with other sapient species, much less throws down with them. so, while she is hands down the most powerful and most well defended character in my roster and certainly can fight, she’s at a significant experience disadvantage compared to some of my career fighters. that being said though, her thick subcutaneous fat means that she has near unparalleled defense, and it is very difficult to land a crit on her.

that’s where my boy mach comes in. machairodonis as an adult is the second largest of the lineup, with thick bones and a tanky, powerful frame. he’s a career wrestler and a very experienced fighter, with the speed and reflexes of a cat and the pure brute physicality of a grizzly bear rolled up into one. this alone means he’d give kali a run for her money, but he also has a very powerful signature ability that’s unique to his species: razor teeth. the positioning, size, and serrated edges of mach’s front teeth allow for a ‘cookie cutter’ effect that does absolutely brutal damage even without a crit. if he does land a crit, it inflicts an automatic heavy bleed status effect, draining the opponent’s hp over several minutes. depending on where he lands the bite, this accumulation of damage could be enough to catch him the w by just waiting until the opponent succumbs to blood loss or shock. and with his saber canines, he likely has a high enough base damage output to get theough kali’s thick skin and fat. his forelimbs are also highly flexible in comparison to other sabercats’, granting him a bonus to all grappling attacks.

they both have the ability to one shot each other, but kali can do it from a longer distance. mach has to get past her crippling paw strikes to secure a grapple and land a solid bite on her in order to crit, and likely he would then have to retreat to safety and defend until kali succumbed to the bleed damage. there’s also the very real possibility of him being bitten and shaken out of his skin on his way out. ultimately it would boil down to who could control the range; kali would try her best to keep the fight long and swing at mach with her paws, aiming for his head and spine, while mach would look for an opportunity to tackle and land a bite in a critical area like her neck.

honorable mentions include kairoh and megnatereon, who are undoubtably the most skilled combatants but their small size and relatively low defense makes fighting against mach or kali unfeasible. kairoh is the most experienced fighter out of all of them, and only a bit smaller than mach, but her less specialized teeth do less damage and her lankier frame means she’s more susceptible to blunt force. megantereon is the most versatile, with incredibly high crit damage from his gigantic saberteeth. he’s highly mobile both on land and in the trees, and his athleticism (plus impressive stealth) makes him difficult to hit. however, he’s diminutive compared to the rest of them, meaning he’d have to do a no-hit run on every single opponent in order to not get completely wasted.

here’s a rough size comparison. from heaviest to lightest: kali (1,375lbs), machairodonis (880lbs), kairoh (765lbs), megantereon (400lbs)

#megantereon is fuckhuge for his genus but relative to some of the othert ypes of sabercats he’s pretty mid #kairoh is wildly huge for a female and displays dimorphic traits usually associated with males (like her mane)#mach was a runt as a kid but he got swol in his late teens and outweight kairoh despite being almost a foot shorter. tanky dude #female leopard seals are usually larger and kali is no exception but even by that metric she’s on the big end #oc kali #oc kairo #oc megantereon #oc mach

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honey-i-shrunk-the-son-inlaw · 8 months

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The Kobolds of the Silver Caverns

The pups were born to an adjacent mountain to the Duegar of the Silver Caverns. The Silver Caverns is a crack in the earth surrounded by a mountain range. The cavern and mountains itself was original a Silver Dragons domain, over time transmuting the land as well as the ores into silver. The Duegar were beginning to run out of resources as well as space. So the Dwarves were seeking options to fix this issue. They found what they desired. The Kobolds are also a mining species even better than the dwarves themselves. The Duegar really didn’t mean anything hateful about the territory grab the Kobolds just ended up being a close and useful option. But the kobolds were not going out without a fight, with their superior shield formation tactics to make up for their short and weak frames, the formations mainly consist mainly of the shield wall and the shield dome. The shield wall can completely block of w mining tunnel entrance, and the shield dome can be used in open areas as a defensive bubble. Even still the Dwarves are a physically superior species, having larger size, strength, and constitution than kobolds. However The kobolds did manage to hold out for 3 days before having to surrender to save the den. The Duegar with a mixture of being impressed, astonished, and now having a new found respect for the species. Gave full citizenship to the Kobold pups in exchange the pack would have to work in the mines to gather precious metals, gems, and resources. In return they would receive 5% of the resources collected and are bestowed a small part of their original den to do as the Kobolds see fit. Ever saddened by their loss of pack members they carried on. The kobolds began to elect a new Alpha seeing as how the old one sacrificed himself for the safety of his pack. Following that election they created a communal living courters. Proceeding this they created a forge, tavern, as well as a barn and fields where the crops get light from glowing crystals. However, the Dwarves did not see coming was how the pups were exceptional at finding valuable items and the Kobolds ended up getting wealthy and large enough of a population that they created their own foothold within the Duegar society.

Our pack of pups were an oddity even amongst this. They were all of the same litter of 5 males, They called themselves Thee Shepherds Caravan. They had an uncanny team working skill even amongst their species. There was Elder, Sarge, Smith, Mason, and Medic. Ironically their names fit perfectly with their given roles as well as attitudes inside the pack. Elder is the more wise one of the group and is the brothers pack elected alpha; Sarge is a more militaristic kobold, he sees the take over as treasonous and wants to go to war with the Duegar city but also knows it to be not the right time; Smith is a blacksmith, he helps supply most of the tools they use like shovels, pickaxes, and mining helmets. Smith was also the one who carved the packs shields, made their sets of chain shirts, also he hand forged a complete matching set of silver black iron Damascus daggers for each member of the pack; Masons name Ironically isn’t his job title. He is the groups tinkerer, he supplies the squad with headlamps, time keeper, lighters, and goggles. Mason also helped come up with and create a gas-mask for medic. He also supplies medic with more filters as well; medic is the parties healer, making potions, bandaging wounds, treating illness. And also cooking food turns out if you know how to brew potions and grind salves then you make amazing salsas and birch bear for chips night. They would often frequent the “Silver Moon Tavern: mead, lamb, and games!” The Shepherds caravan would often drink lavender cider mead, dine on lamb chops. While they shoot dice, play poker, and train their minds with chess.

The pups would end up becoming a considerable famous or infamous group amongst the denizens of the Silver Caverns as a Mining squad. They are always coming back with hauls of treasure. The Shepherds Caravan even ended up receiving gifts from their Den in the form of a Mining chickadee to help with toxin detection named Wöckr. As well as a pigmy yak to help with cargo and mining spoils named Jüpsilä, Jüpsilä was snooty and often cantankerous yak but still followed commands well enough. Wöckr was quite the energetic though anxiety prone bird.

Together this work force was consistently bringing in profits for the Duegar city. Leading to major benefits for the Kobold citizens. They are now granted rights to claim 25% of the resources found in their territory, and 15% of resources mined in the main mines. The Kobolds were given 40% more territory within The Silver Caverns that they can now self govern. They even were granted the right to mint their own coins within The Silver Caverns, though outside of their territory they had to use the cities currency.

Story by me, artist found in the link below.

#dnd ocs #kobolds #original story #short story #fairytale

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alixmcc · 2 years

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Exercise 2: Documenting a space

For the second exercise of the semester, my group and I were tasked with the challenge of capturing the 'essence' of a location within 8 consecutive shots. We chose a cathedral.

vimeo

SCOUTING THE LOCATION PROCESS:

This part of the exercise was fairly challenging. There were so many possibilities that we could've gone with, so many paths we could've gone down, it was hard to narrow the playing field. After a discussion with my group about different locations and the logistics of shooting we unanimously made a decision.

Originally the gang and I were going to film in a nifty little bookshop that was tucked away within central Grassmarket called Armchair books. The vibe in there was so peaceful and quiet compared to the bustling streets outside, something we wanted to capture. Sadly, due to the confined interior of the shop our request was rejected :( and so with that, our journey for a new location began, pressure was on.

(R.I.P to armchair books, it just wasn't meant to be)

We perused the streets of Edinburgh for a couple of hours yet couldn't really find anything that was striking enough to make an 8 shot sequence out of.

After an unsuccessful scout, Daisy and I were walking home to our accommodations when we spotted a massive structure in the distance and so as a last-ditch effort, we decided to check it out. And thank god (pun intended) we did because what we found was perfect. And so the location for the shoot was bagged.

The Cathedral itself was comprised of typical gothic architecture that felt very overwhelming and had an ominous aura to it - the dreary weather contributed to this. With the rain hitting off of the stone walls of the cathedral and the wind rustling through the trees nearby, it gave a sense of frigidness and inhospitality, something we thought would be interesting to capture when filming a Cathedral.

Unfortunately Daisy and I were unable to enter the Cathedral on the day we found it so we couldn't get a good sense of the inside, we hoped (and prayed) that we could see the inside on the day of filming. We took pictures of potential shot ideas of the Cathedral and surrounding area to show the rest of our group to hear their thoughts on it.

Here are some shots ideas I took down below

PRODUCTION DAY:

Surprise, surprise the unpredictable Edinburgh weather strikes again. Instead of the much anticipated rain that we had hoped for, there barely a cloud in the sky on the shoot day. This worried me as I thought it would take away from the dark atmosphere we were previously going for. However, I'm kinda grateful because in hindsight if the weather was bad I feel the image would've came out looking flat. Plus, it didn't really matter in the as in post-production we put a B&W filter over the exterior shots (this'll be explained later in the blog.)

We were able to enter the cathedral that day so we decided to split into separate groups so as to quicken up the set up. Olivia, Tom and Dean remained outside to scout out the area and come up with more shot ideas. Daisy and I decided to explore the interior of the cathedral for some potential shots, get the overall vibe and also record some ambiance and organ music as we planned to overlay that over the top of the sequence for added atmosphere. (We ended up not using the live organ music due to recording issues.) Due to the weather being sunny outside, the colours within the stained glass windows really popped through within the cathedral which cascaded over the walls, it was really beautiful.

Here of some shots that I took for the interior segment of the sequence...

THE PRODUCTION THOUGHT PROCESS:

With such a divide of progressing from exterior to interior within 8 consecutive shots, we wanted to show this divide through use of colour. We used a B&W filter on the exterior shots to convey an unpleasant atmosphere, to imply that the outside world was bland and colourless. We coupled this with low angled shots to make the cathedral appear domineering to the viewer. Then, when we transition to the interior shots, it's full of colour and light to convey a sense of peace within the viewer.

This peace was also amplified through use of sound. Within the exterior shots there is a preacher who is passionately giving a speech about religion but when we transition to the interior shots the speech fades away to music which is slow paced.

OVERALL THOUGHTS:

I felt that the production value was very high quality and the order of the shots made a lot of sense to communicate the location's space. I did feel however, that maybe the stark transition from B&W to colour was a bit jarring and almost took the viewer out of the space but then again, that was kind of the point. Whether that was communicated well enough is subjective to the viewer.

The ending felt a little rushed to me and I don't know if that's because we had 5 exterior shots compared to having 3 interior shots or the shot duration for the interior were shorter, but I felt as though we could've either had more shots inside or let the 3 shots we had linger a little longer. This just goes to show how challenging yet effective the task was since we were constricted to 8 shots to convey a feeling.

All in all I found the experience to be incredibly enjoyable and I would say that this has been my favourite project I've worked on yet.

The Cathedral itself was amazing and even though I'm not a particularly religious person myself, you'd be silly not to appreciate how absolutely beautiful the architecture was. The atmosphere inside was insane and I'm glad I got to experience it with my group.

I really enjoyed brainstorming with my group and hearing their differing perceptions of what the location of a Cathedral feels like to them. Overall, I think we worked incredibly well and efficient since the shoot time for this really only took a couple of hours and those hours felt like minutes since everything was going so smoothly due to our communication throughout.

Also, big thanks to the staff who let us film there because if we couldn't... well let's just say it would not have been a very fun time for us.

#Vimeo

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