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#i have been jumping between them and doing whatever i felt was enjoyable in the moment
bansheeoftheforest · 15 days
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So was anyone gonna tell me that writing can actually be enjoyable when you do it almost purely for your own enjoyment and put 0 pressure on yourself or what you are making or was I supposed to learn that 2 years after I crashed into a writing wall myself-
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paulmias · 3 months
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paul mescal request 👀
maybe meeting him at an industry party and sharing a cigarette and then it evolves
You Can Be The Boss | Paul Mescal X Fem! Reader
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As an actress, and daughter of two of the biggest names in your country of the 90’s, It was inevitable that your name would make it onto the list of Gucci’s Fashion week list.
They had flown you out to Milan, saw that you had a hotel room and clothes for the event, all so you could sit and watch as dozens of models strut about in clothes most people would have to work decades to afford.
When the models would pass you, your gaze kept lingering to him, how could it not? There was a mesmerising sort of charm about him. It consumed you, you had tried to approach him when the event coordinators were ushering hoards of high profile people into limousines to take them to the after party, but you’d had no luck.
You couldn’t find his eyes in the sea of people dancing to whatever the DJ was playing, the music was far too loud, it brought back the migraine you had managed to shift a few days back, after swiping a champagne flute from one of the waiters walking around with them, you snuck out onto the balcony that overlooked Milan.
Having forgotten to bring your own case of cigarettes, you let out an exasperated sigh before downing the champagne. When you lowered the glass from your lips, He was there, cigarette between his lips, almost grinning, his appearence had been so sudden that you’d jumped and dropped the flute over the balcony.
Watching it fall, you felt like an asshole for whoever would have to clean that up later. “Fuck!” The words escaped your lips before you could think properly.
You heard his chuckle and turned to face him. The urge to tell him he was at fault restrained itself. “Do you want a light? I saw you checking that bag of yours for one.” Paul offered. You nod, not exactly desperate for one, but you certainly wouldn’t decline one.
He puts his between his lips and then pulls the case out from his pocket, the only one that remains is squished, not nearly useful enough for you to smoke.
He pulls the one from his lips out, and offers it to you. “You sure?” You question. He nods, and you look so relieved before placing it between your pointer and middle fingers.
After a few exchanges of the cigarette, he speaks as you have it in your lips. “I’ve seen your work, I adore your recent film. Are your team pushing for award nominations?” He asked.
You nodded, your agency was not nearly as cutthroat in that aspect as you would have liked, but you had signed a six year contract with them five years ago, so you would soon be free from them, and hopefully be able to join a more affluent agency. You handed him the cigarette.
“Thank you.” The two of you spoke in unison before chuckling “Yeah, my Uhm, my team are trying but I’m with an agency that are like, more focused on modelling so it’s a bit of a challenge but, I’m still young, I’ve got time to win awards.” You replied.
He takes a drag as he nods. “You looking to change agents?” He questioned, you nodded. “My manager’s looking for new clients, I could pass your name along if you’d like.” He offered.
His manager, you had heard, was a woman very dedicated to her job. “I’d love that, thank you.” You told him. You take a step closer to him, it just feels natural. “You’re gorgeous do you know that?” He asked.
You blushed, which caused him to chuckle, it wasn’t mockingly, rather, one of enjoyment of seeing you so flustered by his compliment. “You’re not so bad yourself.” You replied.
He dropped the cigarette onto the floor and leant forward, his face centimetres away from your own, and then he cupped his hands around your face, pulled you in and kissed you.
A/N: This is my first time writing x reader stuff .. hope u enjoyed
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marry-me-o-gin · 1 year
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I wrote a little ShidouxFemReader. It's pure smut so be warned 🥰🥰
~.~
Shidou Ryusei loves to have his ego stroked. And his cock too. Stroked, caressed, kissed, licked, sucked, and occasionally bitten, if it’s not too hard. There are limits to every man, of course.
But any and all attention to his impressive erection is always welcome, never turned away.
And so that’s what you find yourself doing this evening as Shidou sits completely naked on the edge of your bed, tanned, russet skin reflecting the blaze of the setting sun.
He sits on your bed, on your tangled covers, while you sit between his strong, muscular thighs, one of your lovely hands cupping his balls, fondling gently, making your favourite handsome psycho sigh and groan and sigh again as your other hand runs lightly up and down the length of his cock while you give it the tenderest of kisses.
You sit there, completely naked yourself because he loves to see those tits bounce once you really get going, and enjoy the sight, the taste, the feel of him as his hand, firm fingers run through your hair.
Ah, the dopamine.
As an addict, he would get it anywhere he could, from anyone he could. It didn’t matter. He’d cruise from alleyway to alleyway, skulk in darkened rooms, find himself in the back of cars with his pants down, his hard, erect glory on display, and watch with those glowing, feline eyes as his mate of choice for that evening could not help but worship him.
He’d never see the same person twice. It was a love them and leave them situation. Or maybe he never loved them at all. Only loved the desperate, longing attention.
So it was confusing to him why he’d sought you out again and again. He didn’t question it or ponder it for too long. You gave good head. What more was there to it? He went where his feet carried him and it led right to your room in the middle of the night, over and over.
Soon, he’d found everyone else falling away, unable to hold his interest. It just didn’t feel the same. And this was like a drug. His new addiction. You. Your mouth around his cock. The warm wet feel of being inside you.
Shidou, you look up at him as you run the tip of your tongue up his cock and his smirk falters, breaking into a soft groan, has only two needs in life. Things he cannot live without: soccer and your amorous attention.
Fuck, but you look pretty on your bare little knees there. Fuck. He throws his head back in pure enjoyment, fangs glinting in the quickly disappearing sun. And he bets if he were to run his fingers along your slit, you’d be well on your way to being soaking wet.
He’s not wrong. You can feel it starting. You could feel it start the moment he jumped through the window and grabbed your face in a strong calloused hand, grinning right through the greeting kiss, pressing your pretty little mouth to his.
You were fully dressed but it didn’t take him long to strip you down, savage and loving, taking absolutely no care with your clothes as he exposed more and more of your skin, of your body, of the parts of you no one else had seen before him, his mouth hungrily following his hands, mouth on your breasts, mouthful of tits, sucking, tongue flicking against your nipples, one then the other, showing no mercy.
And once you were completely undressed he’d almost tore at his own clothes, freeing himself from the constraint of fabric and buckles and whatever else.
He had been in that godforsaken compound for God knows how long, only his own hand to entertain himself, his one and only lonely mistress.
He’d flirted with Sae but the cold, standoffish young man was having none of it, kept him at arm’s length and in the end it didn’t matter. He’d got to play some good fuckin’ football for once. The fucking dopamine…It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
But still…it was also nothing like the hit he’d get off your body.
Undressed and stripped down himself, he’d grabbed your ass, hands squeezing, fingers digging into your soft curves as he pressed your body against his, wanting you to feel his rock hard cock against you, your soft breasts against him and the kiss again, so raging, biting your lip, tongue slipping hard into your mouth.
Shidou Ryusei had always been a storm, a hurricane you couldn’t stop, not even if you tried, and today he was even more so.
After he’d kissed and sucked and tasted and bitten what seemed like every inch of your body, once he’d got a good taste again, had a good look, he settled down, sitting himself on your bed as if he owned the place and you knew exactly what to do, finding yourself here now.
You know that despite being so impatient, so fierce, a force of nature, Shidou loves to be teased, provoked, edged. He loves to be tested, pushed to his limits. And so you give him what he wants, making him walk that fine line.
You swirl your tongue lightly around the head of his cock, holding it tightly around the base, hand closing a little more around his balls and he laughs, a tortured, gleeful sort of laugh.
He could pull your head back, own you, but that’s not what he wants. He wants you to take control right now, gives himself over to you, trusting your intimate knowledge of him.
You pull your mouth back a little, watching the light throb in his cock, almost imperceptible.
The trick is to give a little and then take it away. Make him want it even more.
You let go of his cock completely and trace your fingers along the muscles of his thighs which seem to have become even harder, more developed since he’d been away.
He had always had the body of a Greek god, but now, as your fingers explore the grooves and valleys of his handsome musculature, he’s just…beautiful. There’s no other word for it.
He looks down and you look up at him, right into his devilish eyes, as if goading you, challenging you to continue, to do your worst, or your best. The two seem to be the same in this situation.
You accept the challenge, leaning forward again and suck on the head of his cock, just softly, tenderly, the tip of your tongue flickering against him.
For fuck’s sake…He hates it, read loves it, when you do that. That sensation, not strong enough to want to cum right now, but not subtle enough to not care. Your mouth, teasing, inviting him into a much deeper pleasure.
You feel your nipples get harder, your clit begin to ache just a little. He is not the only one left wanting here.
How many times had you touched yourself, dreaming of him while he was gone? Playing with your clit, swollen with pleasure but never as much as it is with him, tweaking your nipples as you brought yourself to orgasm murmuring his name, not knowing where he was or when you'd get to see him again.
And now here he was, right in front of you in the flesh and you were trying your hardest to be patient, though that was proving to be as hard as his erection.
You suck a little harder, still just the tip of his reddening cock, unable to stop yourself from going a little faster.
"You missed it, eh?" He drawls, runs his fingers through your quickly dishevelling hair.
You just look up at him with your big eyes, playing coy.
He lets out a groaning laugh and leans back on his hands, leaving you to it as you take him a little deeper into your warm, wanting mouth.
Your hands hold on to his hips, steadying yourself as you suck his cock, head diving slowly down between his spread legs.
Your intention, your movement is torturous and slow. You take your duty very seriously indeed as you feel your tongue graze against the length of him, feel the quiver of his cock against it, hear a low groan building in his chest, rising, escaping wantonly past his throat. He makes no effort to suppress it. That's not his style. Makes sure you hear everything, know everything you are doing to him.
You've got as much of him as you can in your mouth, not all, there is too much, but as much as you can, and that already is enough to drive him crazy.
Your head bobs up and down slow and sensual, hair falling over your face as your cheeks grow flushed, your pussy positively dripping now onto your carpet. It doesn't matter. All you want to do is to please this wild creature, feel, taste him as he cums.
Your hands run tauntingly over his smooth chest as his breathing comes faster, harder as you continue to pleasure him with your mouth, silky soft tongue, barely there touch of it against him, making him want ever more. You feel the muscle in his thighs clench at your teasing. Fingers closing around a handful of your covers.
You slip him out of your mouth, a delicate string of glistening saliva momentarily connects your lips to his cock before it breaks.
You let him cool down a moment and instead of taking him back in, run your tongue up his cock again, kissing the head softly when you get there before taking him back in again, as far as you can, pressing your tongue hard against the back of his cock now.
He growls in response, fingers positively clenched around your covers.
Fuck, how he missed this…just him, his cock, you naked on your knees for him…He'd had a wet dream of this more than once in his shitty futon back in Blue Lock. It was a pain in the ass to get it clean again. And so often.
And now here you are, in the flesh. And the way you blow him now…hard and slow and deliberate…It's almost feverish.
The dopamine…he can feel it rise, fizz in his brain. But it's not enough. Not yet. He can still think clearly, rationally, cock throbbing in your hot mouth.
Fuuuck… Enough! He's not gonna blow his load just yet. The first one after so long has to be inside you. Deep, deep inside you.
You feel his hand in your hair again as he pulls you off his cock, tilts your head back tenderly, your hair wrapped tight around his fingers.
"I missed you too," he grins down at you with rogue affection. So much affection.
Seeing you naked, hot, bead of sweat running between your breasts, just there for him, for his pleasure and so, so willing…This sight…
The fucking dopamine.
He pulls you up and on top of him, falling back on your bed along with you before quickly pushing you over on your back, climbing on top of you, pinning your wrists down among your twisted sheets, his lithe body heavy on yours.
"Caught you…" his heady whisper grazes your ear soft and warm.
"Oh no…" you play along as you feel his knee push your legs carefully apart before he settles between them and you feel his cock slide against your slit, warm and slippery. "Oh…" your teasing trails off into a helpless moan.
"Whimper for me, little mouse," he orders tenderly as you feel him rub himself against you, the length of his cock pressing, sliding against your desperate little pussy.
You oblige. Not because he told you to but because you can't help it. The friction of his cock against you, rubbing against your clit is stoking a fire, an aching beautiful fire deep down between your legs and you can't help but moan, beautifully, helplessly, for him. A cat playing with his prey, his little mouse.
And the dopamine continues to rise, to spread through his brain, seeping into every crevice, turning his mind into a red erotic haze.
"Shidou…!" You gasp his name, thighs squeezing around him, unable to take much more of this dry humping. Though there is nothing dry about it with how turned on your lover has made you.
He sits up at the sound of his name, sits between your spread legs. You reach out for him and he takes your hand, slipping your fingers into his mouth, running his tongue along them slowly, as if enjoying his meal and when he's done, he slips his own fingers into your mouth, slowly in and out as you suck another part of him.
This slow sensual rhythm, the taste of his hand, his fingers that have been all over you, he pushes them carefully into your mouth, pulls them out, over and over, seeing how much you enjoy it.
And then, takes that same hand, wraps it around his cock and presses it against you. You watch him slide the tip of it down your slit and then back up, the head, with its bead of precum, pushing against your clit sending a jolt of pleasure through you.
You moan, sharp and loud and it's music to his ears. So he does it again, rubbing the head of his cock against your hard, sensitive little clit until you're almost writhing under him.
And just when you think you're about to cum he pulls it back, wags his finger.
No, no, love. Not yet.
You feel him lean over you, hand under your chin, thumb running against your lip.
"Say it," his voice is low, rasping. The savage pleasure coursing through his body, breaking any chains of control. Not that there were many to begin with.
"Say it," he commands.
You pause. Defying him for a moment. Because that's how he likes it. He likes you to be a little fiesty.
But soon you cave, your pussy, your body craving him far too much.
"Fuck me," you pant.
"Say please," he says, squeezing your nipple, giving a little gentle twis,t making you cry out in pleasure-filled surprise.
"Please…" you whimper.
"No, no, no…say the whole thing," he torments you.
"Fuck me, please, Shidou!" You stare right up at him, unable to hide your helpless need anymore. "Please," you whimper again so prettily, your eyes begging.
He lets out a groan…deep and slow. That's the stuff. The dopamine is ready to overflow.
He takes his cock in his hand, his other pushing your thigh down, spreading your legs, and guides himself inside you.
You feel him filling every inch of you, pushing against your walls, hot and hard.
It's been far too long.
And the dopamine hits you too as you finally feel him fully inside you.
You see his eyes closing, almost rolling into the back of his head, as if he's going to pass out in ecstasy, but then, all of a sudden, a fire comes back into them and they glow and pierce you with an animal gaze as he thrusts hard inside you, fucking you over and over. Hard, fast, like a beast.
He holds onto your hips as his own rock against you, quick and sensuous, each thrust of his cock bringing you closer to your own edge.
It's a total fucking overdose. An overdose of each other.
You feel him inside you, hitting all the right spots and you can barely keep your eyes open as you push your hands back above you against your headboard, bracing yourself as he fucks you. Fucks you with all he has.
Don't you know, love? Don't you feel it? With each thrust inside you, he gives you a little more of himself. It's the only thing he's got to give. He ain't got much to show for himself except this raw physical talent, this prowess. His body is all he's got, and he can't imagine giving it to anyone but you now.
Sae Itoshi had his chance, little fucker. But he was nothing but a tease.
But you, love, you're there, open and willing, taking him into your arms every time he shows up unannounced. Giving so much of yourself, and so that's all he can give, it's his most prized possession: himself. And it's all yours.
And so he fucks you into overdose. The dopamine explodes.
Your body trembles and quivers. Your pussy aches as your back arches off your bed.
"Shidou!!" You gasp loudly, feeling something warm, almost electric between your legs, a hot, impatient current spreading through your body. "AH! Shidou!! I'm-!!"
But you don't finish that sentence as a loud, wild moan colours your voice as you cum, your clit, your pussy pulsing with pleasure and your head swims.
He can feel your pussy tight around him, the sweet contraction and he can't hold it back much longer either.
The dopamine bursts, overflows deep into him, his cock driving him mad. He thrusts into you hard one last time to get as much into you as he can, let out all that crazy love as deep as possible, every muscle vibrating, lost in the hot intensity of it all. Lost in the feeling of him cumming inside you, filling you with everything he has.
For some moments, nothing exists…Just your room and the your own hard heartbeats.
You can barely breathe, just like him, as he slowly nuzzles his face between your breasts, still inside you.
"Whimper for me, little mouse," he says, still much too breathless, voice muffled against your skin but you can hear the echo of a grin in his words as he kisses one of your nipples then the other
Anytime, you run your hands through his damp hair gently.
Anytime, Shidou.
Be prepared, little mouse. This is only the first night and he's got a whole two weeks away from that banging soccer party. And he hasn't seen you in much too long. Much too long, love. There's still so much more dopamine to hit.
There's still so much more love to give you, he thinks as he feels his cock covered in your luscious wetness.
And he's never been a quitter.
Be prepared, love.
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mj3llyfish · 17 days
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Fallen angel!Adam x Moth Healer!Reader
Chapter 3: The beautiful light
(Ch.1) (Ch.2) (Ch.3)
Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, cannibalism, and smoking
A/n: Just wanna thank all the peeps that were able to vote on the poll I made a few days ago <33 Had no idea what to do for the story so voting really helped me. Also this one’s kinda L O N G, I just had a lot of ideas for this part. (Also this song just reminded me of this fic listen to it PLS)
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Adam’s pov:
Another weird ass dream, ever since I moved in this chicks hip-dip apartment I’ve been getting them. It’s mostly the day of the extermination, I can’t believe I didn’t turn back as soon as they started fighting back. Now I let everyone in heaven down, even Lute.
Whatever, I need to go wiz. I should probably stay quiet otherwise that butterfly bitch might wa-
Third dream pov (idk what to call it):
Before Adam can finish his thoughts, he looks towards the mirror, revealing his angel form but severely injured, and with a large gaping wound in his chest, surrounded by blood. Adam lets out a startled yelp, backing up against the bathroom door, awakening him.
Normal third pov:
Adam wakes up, startled at his new dream. He had still been lying on the couch, but his eyes wider than ever. He sits up, some of the leather couch sticking against his sweaty body, scratching the back of his head. The grey morning sky shined between the window blinds, he wanted to go back to sleep, but who could after a dream like that?
Adam rushes to the bathroom, quickly opening the door and turning on the lights, heading straight to the mirror. He gently touches his left horn, feeling a mix of relief but also disappointment that he’s back in his new body.
A lousy cough escapes his chapped lips, feeling that his throat is dry, and decides to get water from the kitchen tap, grabbing a mug and filling it up with water. Sure it tasted weird and warm, but he didn’t care. He chugged the nearly the whole thing in one sip, with some water spilling from the cup to his chin hairs. Adam slams the cup against the table.
Suddenly, a displeasing alarm goes off in the distance. He realizes that he’s not alone in here, what could that alarm be for tho? Y/n steps out of from her room still in her pajamas, yawning.
“Oh Adam!... What are you doing up this early?” She asks while heading to the kitchen. “I dunno man, just felt like it.” He responds in annoyance, “What are you doing up this early? You’re the one with the annoying ass alarm.”
Y/n rolls her eyes a bit while opening the fridge and taking out a box of frozen waffles, “I just have somethings to do today, so I thought I’d wake up early. I’m planning to pick up something from cannibal town.” She begins putting some waffles in a toaster while making herself a latte. “Gasp, you should totally come!!” Y/n exclaims excitedly.
Adam looks alarmed, offended even, and just stairs in confusion. “Y/n, why in the fuck, would I want to go anywhere, in this miserable place.” He says in a brutally honest manner. “I mean seriously, are you blind? Have you seen what goes on out there??” Adam pulls y/n to the window opening the blinds, revealing a guy getting his brains blown out.
Y/n cringes at the sight, “okay yeah it’s not great, but cannibal town is pretty enjoyable! Cmon you’ll see what I mean when we go there, plus you get to try out those wings of yours.” She says pointing at his scaly two scaly things, leading Adam to spread one of them a bit.
Y/n stares at Adam waiting for an answer, he sighs in annoyance, “eugh, fine I’ll go. Whatever means I can crash in here.” She then jumps in excitement, “Yess!! Also you’re going to have to pay at least half of the rent here if you wanna stay.” (He really thought 😭)
Time skip: 2hours
Adam waits on the couch waiting for y/n to finish up getting ready, y/n was lucky to find her old roommates clothes in his size. He has a leather jacket, along with black jeans and a Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt. He’s wearing the same boots he wore when he got here tho, he thought they’d look good with his jacket. Adam flinches at the sudden steps of y/n who just finished up, walking in the room.
“Sorry, I didnt scare you did I?” She says chuckling whilst brushing her hair. She had a long forest green skirt, along with a brown laced top and a cardigan that only reached her elbows. “So do you wanna fly or walk there? I can teach you how!”
Adam realizes, he has to pretend he doesn’t know how to fly, otherwise she might get suspicious. He assumes that since one angel has fallen, then there must be a shit ton. He can’t let her know that he’s the reason for the exterminations. “yeah, yeah totally totes you can definitelyteachmehowtoflymanandstuffhahahha” He rambles on while his eyebrows are furrowed and making finger guns to him, noticeably sweating his ass off.
Y/n notices this, then coming to a conclusion. “I know why you’re nervous, Adam..” She says gently, while looking up at him. Adam panics, nearly choking on his spit, “Ar-Ar you serious?”
“Yeah..
you must be afraid of heights!” She exclaimed happily, truly a eureka moment for this woman. Adam sighs in relief, the most unbearable relief anyone has ever felt. “I knew it from the moment I saw you, it’s always the tall ones.” She says shaking her head. “We don’t have to fly, Adam. It’s only a mile or two away, we’ll get there in no time!” Y/n adds picking up her messenger bag. “Now, let’s get going!” She says with a bright smile.
As they step onto the sidewalk, y/n notices that Adam seems a bit cautious. Normally when he was in hell it was to commit a massacre, not having to worry about a sinner hurting them because-well they couldn’t at the time. But now things are different, he’s one of them now.
“Relax,” Y/n starts, “just stay out of trouble, and stick with me. Oh and also watch your step, these guys are open to just taking a dump anywhere they’d like.”
The two begin to walk on the dirty sidewalk, y/n being extra careful about where she’s walking, but Adam doesn’t really mind stepping on a used condom or some junkies bag of coke.
“So, what’s it like up there?” Y/n asks, Adam gets alarmed at her question, stuttering a bit. “uuuUUP WHERE?”
“On earth! I heard that the sky is blue instead of red. And the animals there are not as scaly” y/n begins to stroke the soft hairs on her left wing, she was truly torturing this poor man. “How do the animals look here?” He asks, before y/n can respond,
splat!
A large red fleshy snake falls onto the ground, not really moving that much, just there. “I think that should answer your question” y/n then walks over the seemingly dead snake, while Adam does the same.
“So like, what do you guys do here all day?” Adam questions while sneering at the explicit posters causally displayed out in the open. “I mean, that depends on who you’re asking. Most people go on a rampage as soon as they get here, at least from what I see.” Y/n shrugs. “But sometimes you find a stable part of hell, or at least as stable as hell can be.” Adam becomes slightly intrigued about what she’s saying about hell. “Like, I work at a cafe around here. It’s nice but it’s a bit hard to keep up the wage when angels and demons wreck the place every now and then.” She says sadly, Adam feeling a wave of shame, that she has to live in constant fear while working because of others, and sometimes him.
Eventually, both y/n and Adam finally enter cannibal town. Adam being a bit wary, since he sees many familiar faces around the place, but not for good reason. Y/n then noticing, “Adam? You don’t look so good, is something wrong?” She questions. Adam begins to snap out of his cautious mode, “uhh, yeah?It’s not like on earth people are open to just eating each other out in the open-and NOT in the good way.” He scoffs, pointing to a gentlemen eating another’s guts out. “Oof, Rosie might wanna get that checked at.” Y/n says looking over at where Adam is pointing.
“And who the hell is Rosie??” Adam asks pretty loudly, “The mayor, but I’m sure she’s busy today. Anyways, I’m gonna go to the florist shop. Whole I go you can..” Y/n begins to look around, trying to find a place for Adam to get distracted, then finding a smoke store nearby. “-go to the smoke shop!” She suggests pointing nervously to the shop, hoping that her assumption wouldn’t offend him.
Adam stared at the shop for a bit, he had smoked before, but it was mostly when he was able to disguise himself as a human and go to earth. But he hasn’t done that in a while, last time he smoked he found himself passed out at the back of some hippies van. Ever since Sera made sure he was always watched whenever he went to earth.
“…yeah sure I’ll go smoke.” He submits. Y/n taking a breath of relief, “good! I’ll be in the shop if you need me” Y/n quickly gives him a nice 50, then going off to the flower shop.
Adam finishes his shopping trip pretty quickly, to be fair all he had was 50$ and the store was quite small. He just bought a bubbler and a pack of cigarettes, along with a lighter of course. He sits on a bench that had been between the two stores, then smoking one of the cigarettes.
He sat on that thing for at least 6 or 7 minutes. As he was sitting, he did notice that this place was nicer than every other part of hell. A bit weird to think about, how just a few days ago they were trying to kill each other. A huge gust of wind blows his cigar onto the floor, and into a puddle to his left. His attention is then drawn into the reflection for a few seconds, but he shrinks away from the pain of realizing he’s a demon now, and turns away closing his eyes.
After a good 9 minutes, y/n comes out with a woven basket of lavender, as well as candles with flowers inside of them. “Oh I took so long didn’t I?” She apologizes. “They just had a great sale on candles I couldn’t resist!” Y/n begins to sit down with Adam, hoping to rest a bit after standing round for a bit. “So, how have your last few days been down here?”
“Shitty. Do you have any eyeliner?” Adam replies manspreading, him being slightly slouched down. Y/n then scurries in her bag, hoping to find some. “I didn’t strike you as the type to wear eyeliner.” She chuckles, handing him the small stick along with a hand mirror. “What shape do you like putting it? I like a thin feline, it’s cute but basic.” Y/n shrugs, “Do I look like Jeffery star to you? I don’t know the fuckin species of eyeliner.” He laughs shaking his head giving himself a soft Smoke. Y/n laughs along with him, setting down the basket of lavender and candles between them.
“I got the lavender stuff for you.” Y/n says, Adam pauses, looking over at y/n. “…you’re not that smart are you?” Adam stares judgmentally, y/n taking lots of offense to his comment but keeping quiet. “Why do I need flowers right now? I don’t need a pity gift, especially if they’re some fucking flowers.” Adam scoffs. “No, they aren’t a pity gift or anything, I can tell you haven’t slept peacefully ever since you’ve gotten here.” Y/n removes a bit of the cloth on the basket to take one of the lavenders out. “These will be able to help you, I can make tea out of them and they’ll help you out. Or we can use the aromatherapy I got with it too, just in case you don’t like tea.” Y/n offers, she reaches over to gently grab Adam’s hand places it on hers.
“I know you’re going through a lot Adam. You don’t have to tell me why, but I need you to know that hiding your feelings wont do any good for you.” She explains giving a worried but weirdly comforting look at him, “so please, let me help you.”
Adam stares into y/n’s maroon and green eyes. He then feels as if a big weight of pressure left his chest, he’s never been able to have a person understand him like this. Especially when they don’t really know who he is. Tears slowly form in his red eyes, as y/n pulls him in for a hug. Feeling the warmth in her body made him feel safe in a way, that he could trust her. That she can always help him when he needs it. He didn’t know the exact words for it, but all he knew is that he hadn’t felt this way ever since Eden.
Adam’s dream pov:
Both Adam and y/n had gotten back to the house, it was a nice trip back since Adam finally trusted her a whole lot more. Once they got back y/n gave Adam some lavender tea, sure he would rather drink a cup of literal vomit than tea but he was desperate to sleep soundly for once. Hell, he could even sleep in jeans if we wanted to.
Adam practically throws himself on the couch, immediately going to sleep as soon as his cheek hits the pillow. He dreams of nothing but a void of darkness, as others do, but in that void he sees a familiar face in it, carrying a beautiful light with it. As the light came closer, it transformed into something Adam can only described as beauty.
He wasn't sure who it was tho, he's seen many women in his life, but he couldn't poke out who it was, only little things.The way she laughed, felt like small bubbles popping in his head. and her teeth coming from her smile, like beams of light, peaking through clusters and clusters of trees. And her eyes, oh her gorgeous eyes, like two pearls shining against the sunlight. Whoever it was, was truly gorgeous. But who was it?
Lilith?
Eve?
Lute?
No, it can’t be
You just met her..
Y/n? ♡
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storiesofsvu · 11 months
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Love Comes Quietly Ch 8
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Alex Blake x reader warnings: language, alcohol, brief mentions of bau work. we're finally getting there folks! this chapter does jump around a bit, starts off immediately following the last chapter, then jumps a week, then jumps another like, two weeks (ish, use your imagination) but time has gone by. next ch will pick up directly after this one
Neither you nor Alex said a word about her falling asleep in your bed, you were more than well aware that she’d spent the night there, you’d half woken up a couple of times to find yourself securely tucked in her embrace. But it had been a long week, a rough case all around, you chalked it up to an exhausted accident. Though, you would be lying if you said you didn’t want it to happen again.
Alex wasn’t necessarily embarrassed about it, but she thought that you might be, or that it might have just been a little bit of an awkward conversation to have upon waking up. So she was happy to have slipped out before you’d realized and she wasn’t about to bring it up. She wasn’t sure if it was just sheer exhaustion getting the best of her, or if she’d been lulled into slumber by being in someone’s embrace again. While she’d had a couple of dates that lead nowhere, and a couple of very brief hook ups since James, there hadn’t been an overnight stay, it had been an incredibly long time since she’d shared a bed with someone.
While she made her morning coffee she chewed on her lip, thinking about how much more enjoyable life had been since you’d moved to town. How much fun daily life was, how much she truly loved having you around the house. You made things easier, she had less work to do around the house from cooking to cleaning to mowing the lawn. She knew that you usually took on a few more tasks than normal because you felt a little guilty about not paying rent and she knew that you were likely going to deep clean the entire house this weekend with how downtrodden you were right now. She made a mental note to not leave you alone in the house so she could at least help you with whatever insane task you would decide to take on. She found her thoughts wandering, subconsciously comparing having you around to back when James still lived here, whenever he wasn’t halfway across the world. Before she really realized what she was thinking about she was torn from her thoughts at the sound of your bedroom door clicking open and your feet padding down the hardwood floor.
“Morning.” You greeted with a soft smile and she felt a blush creep up her neck.
“Morning.” She replied, tossing you a small smile as she turned back to the coffee maker, pulling down your preferred mug, “coffee?”
“Please.” You yawned, rolling your neck to stretch out the stiff muscles, wincing a bit at the pain in your side as you did so. Alex slid your coffee mug across the island and you muttered a quiet thanks before taking your first sip, moaning softly as it coursed through you and the caffeine started to wake you up, “hey.. uh..” you started, eyes flicking between Alex and your drink, “thank you… for yesterday. I.. dunno how I would’ve handled it without you.” You could feel the heat on your cheeks when you finally glanced up at her.
“Of course.” Alex smiled warmly, “I wouldn’t have wanted you to have to deal with that on your own. How’re you feeling today?”
“Better.” You replied with a sigh, “and I did wake up with my period so that probably explains a lot.”
“I knew there had to be a reason why I woke up with the burning desire to go buy more ice cream.” She replied with a grin, turning to the cupboard behind her to grab the Midol, tossing it to you. “And I don’t think hormones had anything to do with what happened in that warehouse.”
“Yeah but I can blame the rest of it on them, right?” You nearly winced and she chuckled.
“Just don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?”
“Promise.” You gave her a small smile, wishing you could control the heat in your cheeks as she gazed across the island at you. “Have you eaten yet? Cause I’m pretty sure I’m going to die if I don’t have French toast, I was gonna order in.”
“I picked up some brioche the other day, I can make some.” She offered with a shrug.
“Oh, okay.” You placed your coffee down on the counter, “milk, eggs, vanilla and cinnamon, right?” You made to move around the counter and she held up a hand in offence.
“Ah, absolutely not.” You stalled at her words, your brow furrowing, and she laughed softly, “your cramps are always the worst on your first day, go get comfortable.” She gestured toward the couch, grabbing the heating pad from the top of the microwave before tossing it in.
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Besides, I need to know what happens next on Love Island.”
You let out a little laugh, the grin remaining on your cheeks as you picked up your coffee, retreating over to the couch.
*
It was a whirlwind of a week, barely any recovery time between cases, though, that had become relatively normal for the BAU. At least this one was local so you didn’t have to worry about shitty hotels and endless work hours. You were still a little worse for wear so Emily kept you out of the field and honestly, you appreciated the little bit of a break. By the time Friday rolled around everyone was grateful for the case being closed and it being the weekend, briefly saying goodbye to each other before going separate ways.
Dinner was take out, ate on the couch while mindless television played to distract the both of you before you were yawning. Your sleep schedule had been a little off and despite it still being early, you retired to your room at the insane hour of eight thirty.
Alex’s mind was still spinning, trying to wrap around everything that had been happening. She smiled softly at you when you said goodnight, her gaze returning to the tv as she got distracted. Three hours later she realized she should probably get some rest, picking up the containers and plates from the coffee table. She spent a bit tidying up around the house, making sure the dishwasher was full and turned on, that the trash was set outside to be taken out in the morning. She unpacked both of you go bags into the laundry to be done in the morning before she finally stripped out of her clothes into cozy pyjamas and curled under her blankets.
Her brain was on fire, it didn’t seem to want to stop, even after the melatonin she took. Every time she closed her eyes she tried to relax herself into sleep, but there was something keeping her awake. She tossed and turned for a couple of hours until she finally let out a frustrated groan and picked up her phone. After scrolling through it for a while she let out a yawn, thinking maybe she was about to win now that her thoughts had calmed but once she was curled up on her side her brain started running wild again and she huffed. Her head swiveled over to the clock, it was nearing three in the morning and she was nowhere near tired. She rolled her eyes, shoving back the blankets as she shifted from the bed, she had some sleepy time tea that hopefully would help the situation, so she made her way out to the kitchen.
She only flicked on the stove light, wanting to make sure she didn’t disturb you as she turned on the kettle and pulled down a mug. She ran a hand over her face, her mind wandering as she let out a sigh, it was as if her subconscious knew there was something else going on but wasn’t ready to explain it to her yet. She caught the kettle right before it was about to whistle, pouring the steaming water into the mug, stirring it as it steeped. She settled into a stool at the island, her hand reaching out to the book of poetry she’d left there earlier right as she heard the sound of a door clicking and her head shot up in the direction of your room.  A few seconds later you appeared in the hallway, stalling in your steps when you saw her, a sheepish smile on your face.
“You’re still up.” You greeted softly, your voice groggy with sleep, moving toward the sink with your water bottle.
“It appears so are you.” She smiled back, taking a sip of her tea.
“Was dead to the world.”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?” She asked, worry etching her features and you chuckled.
“No.” You filled up your bottle, “you okay?”
“Yeah.” Alex brushed it off, “I guess insomnia just strikes again.”
“You sure?” You raised a brow, “it was a pretty tough case. If you wanna talk about it, you know I’m here right?”
“I do.” She smiled softly before taking a sip of her tea, “I don’t think it’s the case that’s bothering me.”
“What’s up?” You asked, curiosity taking over your face as you leant against the island.
“Oh you don’t need to worry about it.” Alex laughed it off, “it’s stupid.”
“Alex, c’mon.” You laughed, “we’re both up in the middle of the night, if the universe wanted something, it’s this conversation.”
“Fine.” She shot a glare your way that was somehow combined with a smirk as she took a heavy breath, “I… god…. I’ve had trouble sleeping, and honestly I think it’s just the empty bed that’s been bugging me. After so many years, it’s been hard to sleep alone, even if he wasn’t around all the time.”
“I believe that.” You replied, a soft expression on your features as you looked across to her and she softened, smiling gently at you. “I mean, don’t ask me why but I’ve always slept better with someone I care about in my bed, even if it’s sleep talking, snoring, leg kicking Emily.”
Alex barked out a laugh at that, watching you for a moment as your lips curved up into a grin before she spoke, “god… this is awkward to ask…”
“What?” You asked with a sleepy laugh, taking another sip of your water.
“Would it be weird if I asked if you maybe wanted to sleep in my room?” She winced, “just tonight, I promise. I just… I think it might help? I wouldn’t normally ask but that night I fell asleep in your bed was the best sleep I’ve had since the divorce…and… it was a week from hell this week.”
Alex was instantly relieved by the laugh that you let out, the slight blush on your cheeks as you ducked your gaze. You were simply trying your best to figure out your own thoughts, attempting to not blush to hard at the thought of sharing a bed with Alex, and on purpose this time.
“Honestly…” you glanced up with a smile, “I haven’t slept that good in years.” You laughed, “so yeah. Plus your bed has that memory foam topper.”
Alex laughed, the smile on her lips as she turned toward her bedroom, though the jitters didn’t stop as she was leading you to her bedroom. You easily slipped under the covers, taking the spot beside her and nestling into the pillows. Both you and Alex were unsure where the boundary of touch came into play so you started out facing opposite ways, the warmth and weight of another body enough to finally lull the two of you to sleep.
For now, that was all you needed.
**
The team found themselves in a dive bar across the street from the hotel in Phoenix, Emily having made the call to stay overnight to have time to wind down and relax a bit after solving an easier case. She played a couple rounds of pin ball with you before Derek managed to steal you away for the now free pool table. Grabbing a fresh drink, she settled in at the bar beside Alex who was sipping on her beer and absentmindedly ripping up the coaster it was supposed to be sitting on.
Emily had almost expected her to say something when she sat down, but Alex remained silent, her gaze lingering in the direction of the pool table. Emily followed her eyeline, watching as you bent over the pool table to take a shot before her eyes drifted back to Alex and a smirk took over her lips.
“Her ass really does look great in those shorts.”
“What?” Alex nearly jumped, the coaster clattering to the bar top, “I’m not..”
“Really?” Emily laughed, “cause I know you’re not looking at Derek like that.”
“I’m not looking like anything.”
“Your pupils are dilated.”
“It’s dark in here.” She defended, taking a sip of her beer, fingers picking up the coaster again, picking at its edge as she tried to fight the blush creeping up her chest. Emily chuckled, glancing between you and Alex briefly, watching the way that Alex’s eye’s narrowed, her head tilting every so slightly while two little lines formed between her eyes. The look she usually got when she was deep in concentration on a case trying to get inside an unsubs mind and way of thinking.
“Hey…” Emily nudged her elbow, her voice softer now, the tease gone from it, “what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Alex sighed, her gaze dropping from you to the coaster, continuing to tear at it before she took another sip of her drink.
“If you’re hung up on the case, don’t be. You did incredible work this week, and we got that girl back with her parents.”
“Oh, no, it’s not that.” She waved her off with a shake of her head.
“Oh c’mon.” She laughed softly, “I know that faraway look, you’ve got something on your mind.” She watched as Alex’s brow furrowed once more while she looked in your direction, “everything okay at home?”
“Yeah, of course. She’s perfect, it’s perfect.” Alex corrected herself, but not fast enough for Emily to miss it, her lips curving up into a grin. She sighed softly, glancing down to the bar top to find the coaster finally ripped into tiny little pieces that she could no longer distract herself with. “I’m just trying to figure something out and I’ve been a little conflicted on it, I’m really not sure about a couple of things.”
“Okay. Talk me through it.” Emily urged gently and the other woman let out a breath, draining her beer and replacing it with a new on. Alex’s eyes darted across the bar again, catching Derek cheering, taunting in your direction as you rolled your eyes at him, hanging up the pool cue in defeat. You reluctantly high fived him, and then moved to pick up your jacket, deciding it was time to leave. She let out a breath, finally looking up to catch Emily’s gaze.
“I’ve been trying to differentiate between what could just be the comfort of having someone around the house all the time, the domestic feel of the whole situation, relying on each other, what could be just platonic affection and… the possibility that maybe there’s something more there.”
“Ah… so this is about Murphy.” She chuckled and Alex scowled in her direction.
“And you’re right, her ass looks spectacular in those shorts.” She busied herself with her drink while Emily barked out a laugh.
“Alright, so there’s some sexual attraction, we’re off on the right foot.”
“Okay, but where is the difference in sexual attraction and finding someone conventionally attractive?”
“Well, do you think she’s pretty or do you want to stick your tongue down her throat?” Emily asked and Alex nearly choked on her beer.
“Valid question but I’ll raise you this, where is the line drawn? Is this just because she’s always around and I’m lonely, sexually frustrated, is it just out of pure convenience?”
“When was the last time you got laid?”  She asked, watching as Alex’s brow furrowed, letting out a groan.
“A month or two after James left, when I finally had the house to myself.”
“Blake that was almost two years ago!”
“Do you really have to remind me?” She asked with a laugh.
“How often do you masturbate?”
It was Alex’s turn to laugh, practically rolling her eyes at the other woman, “not often. It’s tough being on a nearly identical schedule, doesn’t leave much alone time in the house for either of us.”
“Well,” Emily placed her empty cup down onto the bar, sliding off her stool, “I think your best bet right now is to get yourself off.” She squeezed at Alex’s shoulder, “and if you’re thinking about her while you’re doing it? Congrats you figured out your problem.”
Alex chuckled softly, shaking her head at Emily’s antics while she watched the other woman leave the bar. Not long after she finished her own beer and made the trip back to the hotel room. Naturally, Emily had her bunking with you and she was unsurprised to find you changed into pyjamas (including shorts that left even less to the imagination than the ones you’d had on earlier) sitting on your bed, television on while you flipped through a magazine.
“Hey.” You muttered, not glancing up when she entered the room.
“I take it Morgan won?”
“By a landslide.” You replied with a groan, glancing up just in time to catch Alex unbuttoning her shirt and heat surged to your cheeks. You gulped, quickly looking back down to the magazine. Sure, you lived together, you roomed together on trips and honestly had routinely changed in the same room before but there was something different in the air tonight. You chalked it up to the alcohol and the fact that one night of bed sharing had lead to basically every night you were at home, the comfort of another body helping both of you get much better sleep. You made out Alex’s voice but you were so focussed trying to ignore the fact that she was in her bra in front of you, you were practically hallucinating.
“I’m going to shower; did you want to join?”
“What?!” Your head shot up, eyes wide and her brow furrowed as she chuckled.
“I said I’m going to shower; did you want the bathroom first?”
“Oh!” Your heart rate began to return to normal, “no, I’m good, go for it.”
She disappeared into the bathroom with a click of the lock and you let out a quiet groan, dropping your head into your hands.
*
Emily was faintly aware of sunlight creeping through the hotel blinds, what she was suddenly very aware of was the panicked knocking at her door. Her heart leapt in her chest, wondering if this was work related as she crawled out of the bed and half ran to the door, pulling it open her brow furrowed at the sight of you in the doorway.
“I think we have a problem.”
“Oh god, what happened?”
“I think I have a crush on Alex…”
____________________
@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @evilregal2002 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @disneyfan624 @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel l @inlovewithemilyprentiss @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me @scorpsik @riveramorylunar
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olberic · 4 months
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ranking anime i’ve watched in 2023:
as expected, here’s this year’s top 10 for how much i personally enjoyed the anime i’ve watched this year. ive watched more than this, but god i watched so many bad ones…. even number 10 sucks but everything else was worse. sad!
as always thank u gifmakers for ur service 🫡 the world would be nothing without u all
10. the legendary hero is dead! (2023)
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dont watch this show. it sucks and its bad. hey. come here. hold my hand. now lets just watch and enjoy the OP ok? don't worry about the rest.
9. my daughter left the nest and returned as an s-rank adventurer (2023)
i have to admit this show charmed me. its not the best thing ive ever seen but its nice. comfy. yknow? i haven't finished it but it's enjoyable. can't rank it higher until i finish it
8. sabikui bisco (2022)
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if it werent for the positively nonsensical jump in the middle of the show and the way theres just like. a lot of gaps? it’d rank higher. it’s a very cool premise for a show and i like the bisco/milo dynamic, and [SISTER] is fun as hell. it didnt wow me though overall, and while i enjoyed it i was hoping for more.
7. trigun stampede (2023)
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im sorry trigun stans i simply didnt love it. i see the appeal i really do but it just didnt hook me. i really liked the animation and the storyline. im intrigued by whatever the fuck is going on with those plants and yall have said theres a tallgirl in the next season? so i’ll keep watching. i just didnt love it
6. that time i got reincarnated as a slime (2019-2021)
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in contrast to #7, i can see why this show is weak HOWEVER i just enjoyed it. i like it. huge fan of how much gender the protag has. i love how they get new powers. i enjoy that it can be interpreted as an extremely bisexual show. it was well paced and the slime diaries OVA was a great addition. a lot of the characters really stuck with me too and its like. idk. one of my favourite isekais i guess
5. buddy daddies (2023)
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this should rank higher. its so fun. its SO fun. its silly and it doesnt take itself seriously. i laughed in every episode. the dynamic between the guys is great. the dynamics between them and the kid is great. just a really solid show if you can stand the queerbaiting. i dont even care
4. bocchi the rock! (2022)
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the bocchi side of tumblr is right this show rules. i like how real bocchi’s social anxiety feels (literally how it felt when i had it). the characters are entertaining, the show’s well done, they even have solid music (which band-based shows dont always do right!). its really funny and its really earnest and its a joy to watch
3. demon slayer: swordsmith village arc (2023)
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i included the entertainment district arc in last year’s list so this arc makes the cut. im always late getting around to watch the new stuff and i dont want to read the manga but god DAMN does this show hit different. incredible fight scenes. i loved everything they did for the hashira backstories. i love whatever the fuck is up with genya. it even gave me some akaza to sustain me for the next year or whatever. ik this show gets overhyped but its normal hyped. to me.
2. frieren: beyond journey's end (2023)
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oughhh frieren… ive only known this show for a few months but it means to much to me… i dont even wanna talk about it because its so good i just wanna watch it again. go watch frieren if you havent already its anime of the decade. to me
1. gundam: the witch from mercury (2022-2023)
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ive never seen a gundam before but i will be watched them after this! what can be said about it that hasnt already been said on this site. the romance storyline is impeccable, the fights are awesome, the moral questions it posed were excellently covered. by the end of the first episode i was speechless. by the end of the last episode i'd cried like 4 times over the course of the show. this thing made me cry to happy birthday. what the fuck
11 notes · View notes
vexcraft · 1 year
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more tcd related convex stuff because i felt silly. also on ao3 here!
warning for very brief mentions of suicide, otherwise this is rather sweet :] inspiration for some of the hcs used is from this post!
step by step
Cub had quickly learned how merciless the end of the world was. Like a snap of fingers, everything had changed. 
Somehow the change had been both quick and slow - the reactions were instant and the zombie virus spread quickly, yet the odd phase between society going to complete chaos and eventually slowing down as resources started to run out felt like a long time. In reality, it had only been a few weeks.
He had been one of the lucky ones from the start, growing up saving on food and making the most out of what he had, learning survival skills in the scouts, practicing how to shoot guns once he had been deemed old enough to touch one. He had always enjoyed exploring the wilds.
Doing these things on his own accord had been enjoyable - this was not. Having his survival depend on a few hobbies he had picked out for himself as a kid was not ideal in any sense. If anything, it left him wondering about all the other things he could have done before everything had been taken away.
Another thing Cub had been lucky with was people. He hadn’t spent long times alone, always being able to tag along with a group of people until they would seemingly inevitably get separated. Every time he had found new people sooner or later, managing alright on his own for the times in between. 
This time, he found himself amongst the biggest group of survivors he had been in before. It was both comforting, to see there were actually this many people still fighting, and unnerving, having to share the very little resources they had. It was easier to find food for five people than it was for fifty.
Every now and then new people joined the group, happy and relieved, thinking they had finally found something more stable. Every now and then people left, for whatever reason. Maybe they felt like they would be better off on their own, not having to share what they found. Perhaps they were simply tired of all this for good, but wanted to spare others from the guilt of having to get rid of another dead body.
The company of others was nice though. Despite the looming doom, somehow people remained cheerful. People played games, shared knowledge, told stories. Anything that would get people’s thoughts off the zombies roaming the lands around them would go.
In this group, like in the most others he had been in, he was the only teenager. It was a bit lonely, but even more annoying. He really didn’t need to hear any more about the bright future he could have had if things had been different. How much of life he had missed.
Well, he had been the only teenager, up until a few days ago. 
On the usual supply run, people from this group had ran into another, smaller group of survivors. From what he had heard, they had been delighted to find others. They seemed less delighted when Cub had seen them arrive at the camp and realize that people weren’t doing much better here.
Amongst the new people had been another teen. He looked around Cub’s age, easily taller than him, skinny and scrawny, even more than most other people. He seemed to stray away from others, usually lurking somewhere around the edges of the camp, jumping away if someone approached him unnoticed.
From what Cub had heard, he had only recently joined the other group. Before that, he had seemed to have been alone. For how long, no one knew.
“What is it with him?” Cub asked one of the people that had been on the supply run that had brought in the newest people. 
He was curious, of course he was. Someone his own age, in this group of people that could possibly be a more permanent option over his previous short-time groups that never seemed to end well. Someone he could maybe befriend. 
“That guy?” The man he was talking to lifted his tired gaze from the campfire to look at Cub, before nodding in the direction of the other teen that was sitting near another fire by himself. “That’s Scar. He doesn’t seem to talk.”
Cub blinked. Whatever he had been expecting, that wasn’t it. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen or heard the other talk. From what he knew, not talking could be a trauma-related thing. “How do you know his name then?”
“We don’t,” the man continued flatly. He looked rough, like pretty much everyone else, chewing on a toothpick as he shifted his gaze back to the fire. “It says ‘SCAR’ on the gun he carries, that’s just what we’ve been calling him.”
Nodding, Cub thanked the man for his answers. He supposed it made sense to have something to refer to the other by, though he couldn’t decide if nicknaming someone after a gun was rude or cool. 
Cautiously, Cub approached Scar. He didn’t want to scare the other, but at the same time he feared that if he saw him walking up to him, he might run off before Cub even had a chance to say anything. 
“Hey,” Cub tried, loud and clear, to get Scar’s attention, to make sure he knew Cub was here and wouldn’t be startled. For a second a thought popped in his head - what if he didn’t speak because he couldn’t hear - but then Scar lifted his eyes from the fire, looking directly at Cub.
Suddenly Cub felt nervous. He hadn’t really thought this through, what would he say? Something in Scar’s hollow gaze made him want to say something comforting, but that had never been something he was good at. He didn’t want to mess this up. 
“Can I sit here?” Cub asked, gesturing to the empty space next to Scar. He was surprised the other hadn’t left - he might as well give this a try. “It’s okay if not.”
Scar didn’t reply, Cub hadn’t expected him to, but he moved slightly to the side, making space. With a small gentle smile Cub sat down, leaving a good distance between them to make sure Scar would be comfortable.
“Thank you,” Cub said. “I’ll just sit here, if that’s okay.”
Again, there was no reply, but there was no sign of discomfort from Scar either. From what Cub had seen, despite not being vocal about how he was feeling, he seemed to value his own comfort enough to leave situations he didn’t want to be in. It would have been less concerning if those situations didn’t seem to include all interaction before this.
After a moment Scar shifted his empty stare from the campfire to his hands on his lap, fiddling with something. He seemed distracted, and Cub tried to carefully see what he was doing, without it being obvious he was looking.
There was a sound of a zipper, and in the corner of his eye Cub could see Scar pulling something from the inside of his coat. He looked away when the other lifted his head, not wanting to get caught staring.
Something soft touched his arm, and Cub turned back to Scar. In his bandaged hands was a plushie, a gray cat to be precise, that he seemed to be handing to Cub. 
Carefully Cub took the item, confused but glad - whatever this was, it seemed like progress. The empty look on Scar’s face seemed sharper now, a hint of trust in his eyes. Gently Cub turned the cat around, getting a good look. There was a small rip on it, strands of the filling hanging out, next to a tag.
“Jellie,” Cub read out as he straightened out the crumpled tag. “Is that her name? Jellie?”
Scar nodded, looking somewhat hopeful. Something inside Cub warmed at that.
“Yeah? I could get Jellie fixed up for you, if you’d like?” Cub offered. The rip didn’t seem too bad, many people in the camp knew how to sew things up.
Scar’s expressions so far had been flat and vague, but this one was definitely a smile.
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eldritchwyrm · 9 months
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finally watched dune (2021). assorted thoughts
i really enjoyed this movie but i'm having serious trouble explaining why. i didn't get the same type of enjoyment out of it that i'm typically looking for in a big-budget sff movie. i wasn't worried about the characters' fate at literally any point. i didn't find it "exciting," i didn't "relate" to anyone, and i wasn't "emotionally invested" in the character relationships. i wasn't even intellectually invested in the adaptation project from a critical perspective. i was drawn in by... something else?
felt like timothée chalamet phoned in all his lines. it was like he was doing a cold read of the script over a zoom call and the vibes were just absolutely flatlining. but i don't actually think that was his fault? i think that was an accurate depiction of the character as given to him?
as far as i can recall this is the first time that a sci fi movie actually gave me a gut-swoop feeling via its portrayal of LARGE SCALE. every other sf movie tries soooo haaaard to get me to care about Identical Giant Spaceship #28489211 Did I Mention It's Big, but this is the first time i actually had a "oh that's BIG" feeling
pretty sure that effect was almost all shot composition. lots of extreme wide shots in which architectural features / space objects formed austere, abstracted shapes
i really liked every shot EXCEPT, ironically enough, the ones that featured dunes (lowercase).
me pointing at a generic sand dune: i've had enough of this guy
related to the sand imagery. i am Aware that dune enacts a complex critique of imperialism over the course of several novels and that the Point is to make you uncomfortable at first. i am still uncomfortable. this is fine. this is the point. but i find the move of "immerse you in white saviorism for a whole novel, then subvert it" a lot easier to handle in book form? the cinematic gaze is very different from the novelistic gaze. it does Things to the portrayal of otherwise very similar plot events. still deciding if i like that
then again it's been so many years since i read the novel... idk
i did feel like maybe i should've seen this on a big screen. and i will probably attempt to see the sequel in theaters? something i have not done of my own volition in many years, even before the pandemic?
whatshername who played jessica was an incredible actor. profoundly weird in exactly the correct way
i was surprised by how little emphasis they gave to the litany; it was present just enough but they didn't Make A Scene of it. i'm guessing that's being saved for the sequel
okay now that i've thought about it more: i think i enjoyed this movie the same way i might appreciate an art film.
so the thing about arthouse films is many of them prioritize reflective, reflexive commentary, often in a brechtian or approximately brechtian mode. often this promotes certain kinds of immersion (an ill-defined term! which we use a lot regardless!), especially the intellectual and aesthetic, at the cost of other kinds of immersion.
there's a certain liveliness of character that can be found in the best "commercial" artworks — the sort of thing that makes people say the characters "jumped off the page". that particular brand of liveliness is much rarer in "literary"/arthouse texts because the particular flavor of reflective mode that's fashionable right now puts up a barrier between that "liveliness" and the reader/viewer/etc.
i don't mean that these texts can't directly engage audience emotion or deliver a gutpunch or whatever -- i'm trying to get at the fact that they exhibit a deep distrust of charm. charm as an affect is contradictory to brechtian detachment. that's not particular to 21st century literary fiction or arthouse film, that's a cultural movement that's been happening in fits and starts in america and britain for a while now?
(this is reminding me i still need to read erin horáková's dissertation)
(damn that's reminding me i need to find her dissertation)
(i could always. ask. but that seems. embarrassing)
anyways these aren't inherent qualities of genre. they're not foundational.
you see plenty of texts that employ "commercial" modes of audience engagement that are later recuperated into the literary canon and treated as literary fiction, even if they weren't originally marketed as such. to kill a mockingbird is a decent example of this
ANYWAYS i'm almost sure i enjoyed dune (2021) as an arthouse film? i found myself wishing i could turn down the character voices into a low murmur so that i could just be whisked through the interplay of light and shadow without being bothered with "plot"
despite my apparent lack of investment in the characters, i thought duncan's death was a great example of a classic trope done right? i just found the whole scene incredibly satisfying, narratively? idk.
i got seriously tired of seeing dreamy wordless visions of zendaya's face tho. so you paid for zendaya to be in this movie. WE GET IT.
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bearpillowmonster · 2 months
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Bad Batch S2
I figured finish 2 before starting 3. 2 just wasn't appealing to me because I didn't like the first one enough, it seemed like it was littered with too many cameos, some enjoyable but some way too pandering, it felt like it couldn't stand on its own two feet. It wasn't bad overall though so I gave two a shot after some many months and while it sounded appealing with them being treasure hunters, I just couldn't get behind it. S2 is like every good episode has two bad ones but they aren't necessarily in order so you might get 4 bad ones before you get 2 good ones.
People pit Dave Filoni as the master of the franchise now but I'm not necessarily convinced because this was all him, as far as I can tell. Picking a successor to lead Star Wars is like picking a quarterback to win your Super Bowl, while Dave has experience and has produced the most enjoyable bouts (especially having Atla under his belt) he hasn't necessarily been consistent in my opinion. Sometimes I wonder if expanding the Skywalker era is even a good idea in the first place because they're at planning retirement for the clones...with pensions and all that junk. They're trying to solve the veteran problem...in Star Wars. While that digs deep into the lore, it treads close to what I was saying about Andor with it showing us too many unnecessary bits. Don't get me wrong, that was one of the good bits, I feel like the Bad Batch sort of started showing the actual transition of clones to stormtroopers and I really like that idea but it's few and far between a lot of the time.
But it feels like you're out of luck if you don't like a character, Cid for example is pretty unlikable for a lot of people, maybe she's meant to be that way, whatever but we see a good bit of her. Organa? We see him almost every Star Wars series now, I get that he jumped the rebellion but isn't there something about bringing about the remaining scraps of the alliance on Alderaan after its demise to take down the Empire in the first place? Now there's a billion rebels, now there's a billion lost jedi, which I've complained about before but I'll do it again. Again, if it's the point of the series, it makes sense, Jedi Fallen Order did a great job with this because it was the point, to get the list of jedi, attaching a number to that could only make it more tense and I believe at some point, it was George's plan was to have a Vader saga where he hunted these jedi down. All those ideas sound cool but if they show up time and time again in a story unrelated, it just seems like you have a jedi there to have a jedi, like it's some sort of propaganda similar to the ending of the Last Jedi. The best episodes here are ones that don't involve lightsabers. It's all overexposed.
With that said, I dropped S2 until I saw S3 was coming and brought back Asajj. So, their propaganda worked in a way. And really, S2 didn't have as many cameos as I thought it might, in fact, I found myself getting attached to one of the characters. I've always liked the crew ever since I saw them in TCW but I thought about who I would be most sad for if something happened, it's Echo. He just has always stuck out in my mind, Hunter too, but Echo has the story. The others were born that way and grew to be brothers but Echo was an accepted family because of his condition and I just find that so loving. I also really love where they leave this season off, it has a lot of potential for this next season, having Omega sort of visit another side of everything, so I can at least say that while S1 didn't get me hyped for S2, S2 got me hyped for S3.
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Ok this is mostly going to be rambling about Tears of the Kingdom, but I'll at least briefly mention a couple other things I keep meaning to say something about and not getting around to.
Pixel Puzzle Makeout League was surprisingly good and deserves its own post because it does some unexpected things.
Theatrhythm Final Bar Line is still mixed but overall more good than bad and generally has similar positives and negatives to the previous Theatrhythm games and Melody of Memory (which is better as a game than any of the Theatrhythm games even if it still has some issues too).
The Outer Worlds is...a game. I totally forgot I started it at some point, and it hasn’t made a huge impression on me in the first five hours or however long.
Cadence of Hyrule is great for a while and does a lot of things right, but there’s a kind of frustrating spike in difficulty near the end, and I’m not sure if I’ll bother finishing it.
Xenoblade Chronicles 3: Future Redeemed is already GOTY 2023 for me, even if 99% of other people will say it’s TotK. Some day I’ll get around to that XC3 post...
Anyway, as someone who liked a bunch of things about Breath of the Wild but found enough frustrating about it that it took four attempts at playing the game to make it past a single Divine Beast and then give up forever, Tears of the Kingdom brings almost all the same problems along with it but mitigates them enough that I’ve finished a temple without giving up on the game and stopping playing for several months a single time so far.
The really short version is that I think everything in Steph Sterling’s soon-to-be infamous review is true and accurate, and the main thing I disagree with is that at least based on my enjoyment of actually playing the two games I’d have to give BotW an even lower score. Come at me, haters please don’t actually and go do something more fun like playing the game you like so much because I’m glad you’re enjoying it
Yes I’m 100% one of those people who thinks weapon durability has never been a positive thing in any game I’ve played (with the possible exception of certain Fire Emblem games) and Skyward Sword introducing a stamina meter to Zelda was a mistake. I’m happy for people who think they add something to the game for them, but for me they're actively anti-fun and constantly interrupt me when I’m trying to engage with all the neat systems the game has. Please just incentivize me to try new things by rewarding me positively for doing it (see: XC3 and in particular Future Redeemed) instead of punishing me for not playing the game the way you want me to.
Thankfully new additions like weapon fusion and ascend go a decent way to mitigate the frustration I have from stuff like that. I can skip a lot of the tedious climbing, and between avoiding most combat and gooping items together I’ve never had a shortage of actually decent weapons since like halfway through the tutorial.
Another positive is the ability set this time around. It’s a bit weirder on the surface, but they complement each other well and feel a lot less janky to me. Half the time with stuff like stasis I felt like I was fighting against the game trying to get the correct angle and momentum, but the new set of abilities pretty much always does what I want it to and lets me do all sorts of silly things in ways that don’t even seem like they should work at first. The game is at its best when I’m just messing around with that stuff to invent and solve problems in unusual ways.
And then the game is at its worst when I have to do combat of any kind. I can tolerate it better than in the previous game, but I’m still not a fan. I’m still reluctant to use my best weapons or any items I don’t have a reliable supply of, and the controls are still wack. You cannot convince me that run on B and jump on X isn’t crazy or that not being able to remap them is a good idea. I’m also still not a fan of the half dozen popup menus for changing weapons or selecting items or whatever because while they do technically work they’re so awkward to use and would really benefit from a third hand. Finally the N64 controller’s true purpose is revealed.
And speaking of menus, the menus still kinda suck too. Why is every food ingredient and every rock and every bug and every plant and 7000 other things dumped into a single tab instead of having sub-categories? Why is every single one of them available in the popup menu for attaching them to arrows or throwing them or whatever with apparently no way to at least favorite things? Why are there no options in the options menu like changing the volume (ideally with music/voice/sound effects separately adjustable)?
And why is the map? Why can’t I reveal stuff on the map just by going there? Why after the map is revealed is there no way to tell which parts of it I’ve been to already and which ones I haven’t (especially annoying so far for tiny random sky islands)? Why do I have to mark every stupid little thing on it by hand? I am playing the game on a computer, and my map exists on an in-game computer. Computers are supposed to deal with this crap for me so I can do something fun instead. And this is coming from someone who drew their own maps for the NES/SNES games on graph paper and actually enjoyed it.
A lot of these things aren’t huge deals on their own, but I’ve been spoiled by the vast number of quality of life features in XC3 and its DLC recently, and the little things add up. And I know there are people at Nintendo who know how to address these things because literally people from Monolith worked on both BotW and TotK, just not on those specific parts of them as far as I understand (mainly with building the open worlds because they already had previous experience doing that).
On the plus side, even if I’m a little underwhelmed by the story and storytelling (thanks again for ruining everything for me, Monolith), it was immediately much more engaging to me than BotW’s was. Wow, there are actual characters with motivations and stuff right off the bat. Neat! No offense to anyone who liked Calamity Ganon and the Calamity in general, but that was the least compelling antagonist in a Zelda game since probably the NES for me, and I’m glad they’ve taken a bit of a different approach this time. We’ll see what I think if/when I get further through it, but so far it’s at least better even if I don’t entirely love it.
I dunno, it’s something I guess. There’s just enough there for me that I’m still going, but it sure is good at discouraging me from doing stuff that would be lots of fun for me with minor tweaks. But hey, at least locking on to enemies actually follows them with the camera again now, so that’s nice. You know, that feature they literally invented for Ocarina of Time and nearly every 3D game anyone’s made has used since then but then they decided not to in BotW because...reasons?
In conclusion, it seems to be a great game for many other people and a decent but frequently frustrating one for me, but shifted a bit more toward decent and a bit less toward frustrating than the previous game. I’m still not convinced either one of them is a Zelda game though. They feel like something totally different to me with a vague Zelda theme overlaid on them. Oh also the puzzles are much better this time around so far. So that’s nice and more Zelda-y. And maybe we’ll get a Musou game out of it again in a couple years like we did last time, which would be nice because Age of Calamity was the best Zelda game since A Link Between Worlds (not counting remakes and stuff).
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darlingshane · 2 years
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Espinas
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Rosita Espinosa x Shane Walsh
Warnings/Content: 18+, Explicit, Angst, Rebound Sex, Oral Sex, Heartbreak, POV Rosita. // Word Count: 1,363
Summary: After breaking up with Abraham, Rosita uses Shane for rebound sex.
A/N: This is for the anon who asked me a while back about Rosita x Shane. Idk if this is what you had in mind, but this is what it came out of mine. I have some ideas for a couple more drabbles, but I'm always open to suggestions.
- You can also read at AO3.
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“Gotta be careful, darlin’,” Shane’s lips pull up at the corners, flashing his trademarked shit-eating grin after finding Rosita sitting on his stoop when he returns from his shift.
“Why is that?” She raises an eyebrow with a speck of amusement, as he opens the door to the house, inviting her in.
“If you keep showing up like this, you’re gonna end up fallin’ in love with me.”
After crossing the threshold, he swallows and turns to her, bringing his hand up to hold her chin between his fingers. He uses his thumb to massage the curve beneath her appetizing, plump bottom lip, that he’s obsessed with. His eyes fall low, drawn to it, and can’t stop himself from dipping to capture the shape of her mouth.
He is utterly wrong. Rosita is not up for falling for anyone any time soon.
After being ditched by Abraham, love is the last thing in her mind. She’s just filling a need by sleeping up with him, and he knows that. She was pretty clear from the get-go. Whatever romantic notions that thick skull of his is concocting, it's just that– an unrealistic fantasy.
It's just a rebound. Nothing else, nothing more.
Over the past month, she’s ended up on his bed more often than her own. It was supposed to be a one time thing, she believed. Then it turned into a double feature. And after the third one, she stopped counting.
It felt good, and that's all that should matter. Who actually cares? It's the end of the world, after all. If this is not the right time to indulge herself, then when is it?
It was that or to take off beyond the walls and deal with the dead on her own like at the beginning. Which she hasn't ruled out just yet.
Is it worth dying for someone who doesn't love you anymore? Absolutely not. She’s not going to put her life in jeopardy for someone like Abraham Ford.
There's a Spanish saying her tía told her the first time she got her heart broken when she was a teenager – una espina saca a otra espina – which is roughly translated to a thorn removes another thorn. Laying it out in simple words, for what she gathered, it means to find another man, or a woman, to forget about the one who wronged you.
To her, it all felt like a bad omen. It was literally written in her name that she was set for a lifetime of heartbreak. That's probably why she quickly toughened up, raised walls, and put on a brave face, so nobody knew how bad she was hurting, even before Abraham.
She knows from experience that everything ends, but there's still that little thorn stuck deep in her chest that refuses to budge. Admittedly, Shane has helped lighten the blow and nudge slightly that prickling sensation. He's also made life in Alexandria more bearable, because being forced to see her former lover move on right under her nose has been hell. And all the time spent here, hiding at Shane’s, it’s more time away from having to stumble accidentally onto them on the streets of the suburban compound.
At this moment, like every other evening, once she’s inside, they waste no time on shedding layers of clothes to give into their bodies' whims without restraints, figuratively. They have played a couple of times with binding the other, and she's not opposed to doing that again, especially if she's the one doing the binding part.
Having Shane at her mercy was a greatly enjoyable experience that she’s hoping to repeat some day.
Tonight, they impatiently do it in the middle of the hallway, right before reaching the bedroom. Rosita doesn't hesitate on jumping his bones to scratch that itch between her legs as fast as possible. It's quick and dirty, and not quite mind-blowing as usual. But just enough to decompress that tension that had been coiling at her center for hours.
After they’ve recovered from that initial quickie, they share some food to refuel before going at it a second time.
Less urgently, and in the comfort of his bed, Rosita allows his hands and mouth to roam free all over her body. He probably has mapped out every inch of her skin by now and those big palms of his, that she's become addicted to, are already well versed in what makes her tick and what doesn’t.
Right now, he’s sucking in one of her nipples as his fingers rub with fire between her folds, collecting all her slickness in the process and making her come unexpectedly a second time.
She used to hate everything about Shane Walsh when they first met. He reminded her of a couple of ex-boyfriends that always treated her like shit. And that was probably the reason she picked him, cause she knew she wasn’t going to fall for his bullshit. That and, also, her options were not very broad in Alexandria. Not to what she needed, at least.
There's not an ounce of hatred for him at this hour, though. Especially not for his mouth that trails across the valley of her chest to latch to her other breast while her breath catches. Not for his fingers that can easily make her twitch like that. Not for his cock that fits her just like a glove. And definitely not for his deft tongue and warm lips that make her flesh rise into goosebumps with every lick.
Unlike any of those jerks she's dated, he really knows how to handle her. And right at this moment, his mouth becomes heaven, trailing down her body after releasing that nipple to fit onto her pussy instead and taste her arousal.
Overworked and over-stimulated, the vicious undoing of his shameless tongue makes her toes curl again. Crying at his last name in that final breath, she loses all control when a third orgasm reaches its highest peak.
She would collapse if she wasn’t lying already. Her body feels wet, lacking a fan to rid of all the fluids sticking to her skin. The sheets below her are no better. She can tell they are drenched in her juices. One of these days, she would have to do his laundry or something, just as a thank you for letting him use his mouth like that.
But she's not about to do chores, no. She has another idea in mind.
Once she's regained some strength, she props herself to her knees, and guides Shane to lie down on his back, so she can return the favor.
Glancing at him, she bows, and takes him all in. His cock fills her mouth just as well as it fits her pussy. She makes sure that he sees her lips sliding up and down his length without wavering. He tastes just as good, a little musky and bitter maybe from work, but she doesn't mind that at all. She downs all of it, over and over, letting the obscene sounds that come from her mouth and the curses that he breathes out fill the room.
“Fuck, Rosie, just like that, yeah… that a girl,” his hand slides in her hair when he's close, pushing her head down to go faster, and she complies without resistance cause she loves pleasuring him as much as receiving.
His cock twitches as it touches the back of her throat once more, feeding her the warm load of his orgasm.
There’s a thick string of his seed connecting her mouth to his dick when she pulls her head back. It’s broken by one of her fingers, twirling it around like a ribbon, as her tongue swipes her lips.
“C’mere, darlin',” he utters gruffly, and clears his throat as she slithers on top of his broad chest.
One unexpected thing about boning Shane Walsh was discovering he's a post-coital cuddler. It took her aback the first time, now she's warmed up to it. It's utterly relaxing to have one of his hands playing softly with her hair and his fingertips gliding up her back, collecting the remains of the stamina released after they've done the other.
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19thsentry-blog · 2 years
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In The Shadows
Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction (Lukanette Endgame)
Chapters
Prelude | Chp 1 | Chp 2 | Chp 3 | Chp 4 | Chp 5 | Chp 6 | Chp 7 | Chp 8 | Chp 9 | Chp 10 | Chp 11 | Chp 12 | Chp 13 | Chp 14 | Chp 15 | Chp 16 | Chp 17 | Chp 18 | Chp 19 | Epilogue | Worlds Not Our Own | Timeline
Chapter Eleven: Crosses to Bear (AO3 Link)  
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Chapter Snapshot
It wasn't exactly a surprise that Marinette had loved someone before she met him. It would've been stranger if a girl like her hadn't, so it hadn't been a shock to see the person she had feelings for. Admittedly, Luka wasn't particularly excited about it all, but he'd asked for it, hadn't he? When he spoke to her at the record store, when he asked for her autograph, when he saw her in that alleyway, when their eyes met across traffic--and a million other times, small and large and something in between. He'd come to Paris officially out of responsibility and a promise, but he stayed for her, for the pleasure and the pain of being part of the world.
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Wes leered with a knowing grin on his face, flipping his drumsticks in the air and catching them, head lolling to the beat. His arms and body moved with an easy, yet aggressive flow over the drums. "Thaaat’s my boy! Now we're talkin' earthly pleasures," One strong arm brought a drum stick down to bear on the crash cymbal for emphasis. He paused, amber eyes jubilant. "Gonna shag 'er?"
Luka shook an imaginary Wes out of his head, dashing down the stairs to his apartment and unlocking the door. Mullo and Sass flew from his hood like bottle rockets.
"So many people and noises and things," Mullo squeaked, flying circles around Luka's head as he hightailed it to the bathroom. He had to retrieve the Guardian's Precepts from its undignified hiding place. "It was so fun! Will we do it again sometime?"
"I'm sure we will," Luka said, not quite paying attention as his nails struggled with duct tape.
"It wassss enjoyable. Marinette issss quite sweet."
Luka reflexively smiled, his heart light just at the sound of her name. "Yeah, she is. But we've got stuff to do tonight." He shucked the tape-covered bag off the Guardian's Precepts. "And I'm already late."
"That's what happens when you snog," Mullo tittered, high-pitched laughter making her whiskers twitch. Apparently, he wasn't the only one Wes had left his mark on. He wasn't sure if it was for better or worse, but it made him feel slightly less crazy.
"Are you going to tell Ladybug about Wang Fu?" Sass asked. They'd surmised that was who must have been Marinette's master, although there was always room for doubt. Luka kind of hoped they were wrong.
"I think I'll have to. If I want to trust her by giving her this," he held up the book before shoving it in the waistband of his jeans, "She should at least know everything we do. Damn, we're really late…" Luka closed the door quietly so it didn't wake his landlord upstairs and then found a place to transform a block away. Hôtel de Ville was 20 minutes away from work, and before he'd made plans with Marinette it had seemed like a convenient meet-up point. He'd have to make up a lot of time. Viperion jumped from roof to roof, powerful legs pushing him faster and faster towards the municipal building.
Normally Luka was pretty good about shoving thoughts aside to focus on the task ahead, but Marinette was stuck in his head (Like It's a Small World, she'd said, flushing pink and nervously rambling). He hadn't lied to her, though. If he was just a temporary diversion from someone else or a more permanent fixture in her life, it didn't matter. He'd be happy for whatever time he was allowed with her. She hadn't told him that she was in love with the boy--Adrien--but she didn't have to. Her body spoke for her; she thrummed with tension when he'd arrived. That wasn't the only thing that happened tonight that he had to think about, either.
He'd felt it; that electric wire that hummed through him when he felt eyes on him, the warning that something was coming. Luka turned from his chair, missing whatever Jagged had said--trying to locate the source of the feeling. Their eyes met from across the small slip of water that separated the barge from the land, those sharp green depths that gleamed like raven's eyes. Félix: the boy he'd saved, the boy with the hundreds of steel shutters around his heart but who still couldn't protect himself from the knife's edge he stood on--not that Luka knew exactly what turmoil was roiling in his body. He could just sense it, someone close to falling into darker, more desperate depths (because hadn't he stood there as well, when the knife was in his hands and Sangpo was helpless and needed him and there was only one action his brain could think of?).
Félix had no way to knew who he was as he was now, but he headed for him anyway with a single-minded determination, as if he were the only one on that boat that really existed at all. Juleka had caught his line of sight and watched as Félix boarded, and then the air on the boat seemed to grow stale all at once--eyes watched Félix like he was a rabid dog, something to be avoided, to be feared, to curl one's lip at in disgust. Félix ignored it all, pace not pausing or slipping in the thickness of the tension. He paused in front of their semi-circle, he turned to Juleka on Luka's right and wished her a happy birthday, to which she nodded stiffly at. And then those eyes were on him, carefully indifferent, but Luka knew those shutters expertly held back any level of explosive emotion. He could feel it, even if there was no indication of it in his body language.
"I don't believe I've seen you before," Félix started. "I know most of my cousin's friends. I must say, it's such a tight-knit group I'm always surprised when someone new joins."
A cousin? He was related to one of Marinette's friends, then, but who? He didn't have a chance to ask; Marinette burst through the crowd with a folding chair raised slightly over her chest. "I brought extra chairs!" Her body thrummed panic; it reverberated through her tiny frame as she quickly set up the chair between Luka and Juleka and spun around to sit in it. Marinette's smile was like an ice storm when she looked at Félix. No one had expected him, clearly, Marinette said so with a fake cheer to her tone, the only one willing to say much at all at the intruder. They exchanged reserved blows; a clash of wills displayed before him.
He mentioned another boy; Luka couldn't recall that name among the ones he'd heard, but admittedly he couldn't recall them all. A second golden-haired boy appeared, a carbon copy of Félix but softer, he wore his emotions on his sleeve rather than shutting them away. When his jade eyes met his there was confusion, but unlike Félix hostility didn't roll off his body. Luka realized the boy was waiting for Marinette to introduce them, but she seemed frozen, not able to say anything. She rested a hand on his shoulder, and that's when the boy's energy started to shift.
That's when he realized.
It wasn't exactly a surprise that Marinette had loved someone before she met him. It would've been stranger if a girl like her hadn't, so it hadn't been a shock to see the person she had feelings for. Admittedly, Luka wasn't particularly excited about it all, but he'd asked for it, hadn't he? When he spoke to her at the record store, when he asked for her autograph, when he saw her in that alleyway, when their eyes met across traffic--and a million other times, small and large and something in between. He'd come to Paris officially out of responsibility and a promise, but he stayed for her, for the pleasure and the pain of being part of the world.
A splash of red sparked against the night in his peripheral, and a strong sense of relief flew through him when he realized it was Ladybug, apparently just as late as he was. Viperion closed the gap, the two of them exchanging sheepish grins as they jumped through the air and up to the roof of Paris's capitol building. They stood on one of the lower rooves, still several floors above the ground but not quite reaching the heights of the mighty bell tower.
"I'd apologize for being late, but it looks like we both have bad timing," he said with a breathless little laugh, settling to sit on the roof with his back against the decorative wrought iron fence that closed them in.
"I got a little held up," Ladybug agreed. She sat across from him. Her blue eyes no longer stared daggers at him; a nice change of pace from the last few times they'd met. He liked them better this way--the lightness in them seemed to sparkle with reflected moonlight.
"So, do you have it?" he asked. Their purpose tonight was going over ways to repair Mullo's Miraculous, and when he'd told her about the book that should have the cure, she had told him she knew about it. Viperion had assumed at the time that meant she had the Spellbook, but from the nervous tick of her fingers, he might have been too hasty.
Ladybug sighed, and her hand wound around her back to pull out a tablet. "The book is…it's kind of a long story. Master Fu told me that it was lost with the other Miraculouses."
Viperion's shoulders sagged. "I guess I should have expected that. You said last time we met that he didn't tell you a lot."
"We never had a lot of time," she jumped in, defensive of her old Master.
"Right," he nodded. "Did he...tell you how the Miraculous were lost?" She opened her mouth to answer but shook her head instead of saying anything. Viperion swallowed. Ladybug seemed highly loyal. She probably wouldn't like what he had to say, but she deserved to know. "Sangpo told me about it when he told me about the bracelet." When he'd been given his "grand and glorious" mission, as Wes had put it. Ladybug leaned closer, arms winding around her knees, eyes alight with careful curiosity.
"Sangpo didn't know exactly what happened, only what he experienced at the time," he warned, "So he admitted it could be biased information. Guardians are--were trained from a young age. They were sought out, and their parents would bring their children to the temple to live, away from their homes. It wasn't just Guardians they sought out, either. They looked for Holders too, and they'd train them at the Order's temple in Tibet. Sangpo was trained to be a Holder from a young age, and he was the Snake Holder for a long time, like I told you before. That night…that night they were undergoing a test for a new potential Guardian. He was just a kid--uh," Viperion paused, caught up in the intensity of Ladybug’s eyes and the curiosity that had grown in them. "Wang Fu, was his name."
Ladybug uncurled, one hand lying flat on the roof. "That's him! Master Fu."
Viperion bit the side of his cheek and kept going. "The trial was a hard one. He had to guard the Miracle Box for 24 hours without food or water."
Sangpo's kind eyes watched him, but there was something else in them tonight, Luka couldn't be sure what. Luka was hungry--starved, but he'd been hungry before and knew with certainty he would be again. There was nothing for it. You could suck on a rock and your body would produce saliva, enough to make it feel like you were drinking, and sometimes that was enough to fool yourself that you were filling your stomach. But there was none of that tonight. Just himself, the hunger, and the bracelet. That, and Sangpo from the doorway where he occasionally appeared.
There was no distraction from hunger. It gnawed him from the inside out, his brain and nerves focusing only on it and it alone. It was survival instincts, he thought, the brain and body trying to remind you that it HAD to live, that it NEEDED something to live. But just because you needed something didn't mean you would get it. Luka knew that most of all.
He'd not gone this long without something, though. On the streets or in the country, he could chew dandelion stems or tree bark. Once or twice even a bug--he'd heard people did that normally, in some places. His brain kept thinking of all the times he'd ever eaten. Every meal he'd had at home in Scotland, with his mother and baby sister and aunt, goat's milk and bread and potatoes, soups and oats, berries and beets and honey and eggs. He thought of the beans and toast he and Sangpo had eaten so many hours ago.
He would eat again, and he'd live--or he wouldn't, and he would see his mother and sister again. Luka laid down on the ground, curled around the bracelet, one hand cupping it protectively. This pain was temporary. For now, that was enough.
"If he'd never been that hungry before--hell, even if he had, it…it's not easy. He was alone, probably scared and upset. It was clear that he didn't really want to be a Guardian, from what Sangpo told me, but they never expected…" Luka sighed. "Sangpo was meditating in the courtyard. That's when he heard the screams--and that's where Sass found him. Obviously, Sangpo hadn't expected him, he was supposed to be in the Miracle Box but there he was, holding the bracelet. Sass told him that Fu had summoned an amok to find him something to eat, but that it went wrong."
Ladybug was frozen on the spot, mouth slightly hung open as she tried to predict the end of his story--she was hung on every word.
"The problem was, he was starved, distressed, upset. He couldn't have known what he was doing. The amok he summoned; with his intentions and mind in disarray, it became bent on devouring the Miraculouses. But it consumed everything. Not just food, but furniture, the very stone of the building itself, the people--" Ladybug gasp quietly, more a sharp intake of breath than anything. "Sass had saved Sangpo, but the only thing that can purify an Amok after something like that was the Ladybug Miraculous. Since that was the box Wang Fu had been watching that night, he assumed…well, he thought it was gone already. Eaten. That thing was hellbent on the Miraculouses. He didn't tell me about the fight itself--it was…it was hard for him to talk about. In the end, the only thing he could do was lure it deeper into the earth."
Viperion ran a thumb over the bracelet. "I saw it, once. The place the temple used to stand. I'd hoped that there was a clue Sangpo had missed, some kind of indication that the other Miraculous Boxes had survived. Nothing," he swallowed. "Nothing survived. Not even the ground. Just a pit that led all the way to hell itself." He could see every year Sangpo had lived with the burden of being the only one left alive written on the lines of his face--his world had been torn apart. Sangpo would tell him bedtime stories some nights when they couldn't sleep of the different Kwamis, he'd draw them in the dirt, deep-set eyes crinkled with joy when he would remember. And then it would rush in again, that pain of loss. And when Luka had stared down that deep dark pit, he felt that pain down to his bones. With Sangpo gone, this pain was his to bear now. Their stories his to remember.
"I had no idea," she murmured softly, retreating back inside herself, arms around her legs. "He never told me."
He couldn’t blame Fu for that. It had to be painful, living with it on his shoulders for so long. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to feel responsible for the catastrophe in the first place. "I'm guessing when that…happened, that's when the book was lost. But without it, we're missing huge chunks of information."
Ladybug bit her lip. She reached for the tablet again. "About that…I mean, even with the pages, it's written in some weird language. Not even Fu could read all of it."
Viperion shook his head. "I'm not surprised--he still hadn't finished his training. But I know how. I can translate it."
How many days had he lived in that one night? The stars only moved when he felt himself start to nod off, his eyelids begging themselves to close. In the tiny square of dirt outside their home (or shack, might be a more apt word, its wooden walls looking ready to collapse at any moment under its sheet metal roof) Sangpo sat, back rigid, palms resting on his knees. Luka recited the letters again, tongue heavy. Each reset, he would repeat their most recent phrase and Sangpo would either nod and draw new characters in the dirt or would bid him say them again, and again, and again.
His brain began to swim. He barely knew his English letters, and this seemed far harder. Not that he would know the difference. When he was finally granted leave to de-transform and go to sleep, he dreamed only in sounds and color, the foreign tongue lashing him relentlessly. The next night, Sangpo added pictures. "Your brothers--sisters," he said, drawing human shapes clothed in hoods or robes. "The first, he learned swiftness. You will too." Sangpo drew a character next to it, "Myur tshad".
Luka repeated after him.
Sangpo pointed to the drawn person next to the first. "Your sister. She learned--" he paused, trying to work the English word on his tongue. "How the earth, how people, shiver."
Luka frowned, young mind trying to translate. "Like an earthquake?" Sangpo's tongue clicked. That wasn't quite it. He thought for another moment. "I don't know either. Like when you feel something moving, though?"
This was acceptable for the moment. Sangpo drew more characters in the dirt. "'Dar ba," he said.
Luka looked up at him, "What will I learn from you?"
Sangpo's lips lifted into a smile (Luka loved Sangpo's smile most of all because it was the most genuine, the thing that made this feel like home, that made him feel like he belonged). "How to change skin. Sgyur ba."
Ladybug tucked the tablet to her chest. "How do you know all these things? I thought…I thought you were like me." Her eyes conveyed what she couldn't say, I thought you were lost, like me.
He gave her a sad smile. "I am. When Sangpo died, he hadn't taught me everything he knew. Just enough for me to keep going on my own, to piece it all together. But even when he was alive, the only thing that limited our time was me," Viperion said, lifting his wrist to let the bracelet gleam in the moonlight. "However long I could reset, over and over, that's what we had. It's never enough to feel ready, though." He said this softly, remembering the long years he'd lived afterward; never quite feeling alive, even when he'd learned how to live longer than anyone else.
They were both quiet for a while before Ladybug spoke. "The Spellbook is…we have pictures of it. Here." She tapped at the tablet screen and it glowed under her touch, and she handed it to him.
Viperion scanned the first page, detailing the Absolute Miraculous Power, the recreation of the universe. He flipped through the tablet, eyes moving quickly over the descriptions of heroes, and what new powers they learned. He stopped at Shé (Sangpo's voice rang in his mind again; your brothers, sisters, he was the first). His eyes drank in the familiar characters, those that he had first learned in the dirt behind their home. Viperion frowned, realizing the longer he looked at the picture something was off, and the question that had been budding in his mind since the start sprung to mind.
"Ladybug…how did you get these pictures? You said it was a long story, but I'm curious. These pictures are pretty high quality…how long has the Spellbook really been missing?"
Guilt seemed to roil off her in waves, she twisted her fingers together. "Well…I mean, it was. For a long time. A really long time. But then I…found it. But I couldn't keep it, so Master Fu and I took pictures of it."
He frowned. "What do you mean you couldn't keep it?"
"The person who had it kind of noticed it was missing--but it's fine, I know where it is--"
"Wait, wait, does this person know about the Miraculous? Are they one of us?" There had to be some reason she would let it out of her sight, even if he wasn't seeing it right now.
"No, he has no idea about any of it, but that's why it's safe! No one would look for it there," Ladybug said. The pent-up energy was too much for her to bear, she stood up and began pacing in circles.
He stood, too. "You have no idea the lengths people will go to, Ladybug. If they learn how to decode that book…"
"I think Hawk Moth reminds me well enough about the lengths people go to, thanks," she crossed her arms. "I couldn't even learn how to decode it, and neither could Master Fu. I'm sure it's fine." Her blue eyes grew dangerous again, daring him to question her.
Viperion's lips drew in a thin line, and he held the tablet up. "You mean, that's what you thought before tonight?” Because he was here, someone who could read it.
Her features warped slightly, realizing he'd trapped her in the argument. "Well, you're, I mean, you're different. You knew one of them."
"I wouldn't have thought that anyone but Sangpo made it out of that hell hole alive, either, but I was wrong. I never expected a Guardian to be alive, even when someone else brought up the possibility, and that was my mistake. But there's a reason why the Order never left Tibet, and there's a reason they tried to erase all history of prior heroes. This information is dangerous--assuming no one else will ever figure it out is…it's optimistic."
Ladybug breathed out angrily, turning her back on him and gripping the wrought iron fence that bordered the roof of the capitol building. "Why can't you just trust me that the person who has it wouldn't misuse it?"
He sighed. "It's not me not trusting you. I wasn't here when you and Master Fu decided to give it back, I can't imagine what the scenario was. But put yourself in my shoes. Would you blindly trust who I gave it to without looking into them for yourself?"
He heard more than saw her hands grip the iron harder, back muscles tense before she relaxed, turning around to face him again. "If I tell you…just remember this person is…I mean there's no way you'd trace my identity back just from knowing him, okay?"
Viperion stared at her for a moment; he still didn't fully understand her hang-up about secret identities. Granted, he'd lived most of his life trying to ensure that no one found out he had the Snake Miraculous, and when he was transformed, he was careful no one knew who he really was. But they were both part of this secret, both just as equally responsible for the Kwamis, in his mind. She'd mentioned that she was afraid one of them could be akumatized, but even that had flawed logic. Surely one of the first things Fu would have taught her would be how to avoid that (although, he thought, maybe not after everything he had confirmed tonight). Ladybug must have taken his silence as "Okay" because she kept going.
"The person who has it is a famous designer that lives here in Paris," she spoke slowly as if the words were being dragged out of her. "His name is Gabriel Agreste."
It didn't sound familiar, but he wasn't exactly on the up and up in the fashion world. He might be able to ask Marinette about it later--she wanted to be a designer, so she would probably know. But this wasn't exactly something he wanted to put off. "Where does he live?"
Panic settled on her features. "Why? What are you planning?"
A lot of things, although he wasn't sure it was a good idea to tell her that. He didn't like hiding things from her, but he hadn't anticipated their relationship would be like this. Viperion wanted to trust her, but he wasn't sure he could trust the decisions Fu had helped her make. His promise to Sangpo was more important than anything else. "Nothing, but I feel like it's something I should know given the circumstances. Although if he's famous, I guess I can just look him up online or in a phone book." He wasn't a wizard with the internet, but he knew enough for someone as old as he was.
Ladybug huffed a sigh and gave him the address. "But I'm telling you, it's fine. He practically never leaves home, and there's no way he knows how to read it. That place is basically a fortress."
Viperion handed her back the tablet. "Thank you for telling me." She took it back, a small frown on her face. "The next time we meet I can work on finding which page details how to fix Mullo's Miraculous. But I probably should call it a night--still have to get up and pay rent, you know."
She nodded at him, holding the tablet to her chest--she looked so small, then. He wondered who she might really be, if she had people who cared about her enough, who supported her. They said goodnight and she watched him until he was out of view. When he no longer felt her watchful eye, he turned, heading in the direction of Gabriel Agreste. If his home really was a fortress, he'd have a hell of a time figuring out exactly how to break into it.
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Tonight, the quiet in the Agreste home was welcome. If Gabriel had known that Félix would be alone in the mansion tonight, he never would have left for that "Secret Society" show the old folks loved to put on. The man never left the house, and yet standing around in some famous person's basement with a mask on was what got him off? No matter how long he lived, Félix doubted he would ever understand Gabriel Agreste--or, for that matter, what Emilie had seen in him. His mother was in full agreement on that one (not that she had much room to criticize in that department, her picking Christoph might be even more of a mystery).
Félix tested the monocle, checking that it was working as intended by examining the stampede of fingerprints on the doorknob of the guest suite. It still seemed to work, all these years later—it had done an excellent job in guiding him to his father’s secrets two years ago. Whomever Wadham had commissioned it from certainly knew their stuff. This foray was a deviation from his original plans, but perhaps in the end it was for the best. He wasn't one to back down from a challenge, but he also wasn't interested in making stupid mistakes, and avoiding Luka was starting to look like a necessity. If anyone could undo what he was attempting to do, it would be that man. His eyes saw too much.
Félix tucked the monocle back in his pocket and left the guest suite; even if he had the house to himself, he shouldn't assume that would remain the case for as long as he needed. The chances that Gabriel had left the Peacock Miraculous out of his sight were slim, but it was worth investigating. His shoes glided silently across the smooth marble floors as he slipped into the atelier, closing the door behind him. Félix put the monocle on, scanning the room for prints or anything suspicious. Men like Christoph and Gabriel tended to keep their deepest secrets close to their chest, and as often as Gabriel spent his time here, surely his secrets would be somewhere in this room.
Félix took a long look at each naively youthful picture of Adrien that hung on the wall, then checked each dress mannequin for anything hidden beneath or behind, finding nothing. That only left the most predictable place. He’d hoped his uncle’s self-preservation skills would be sharper than that and had given him the benefit of the doubt, but there on the rim of Emilie’s Gustav Klimt portrait were several clumps of fingerprints.
He punched in a few variations of the code, the monocle guiding him to the most used numbers. The safe popped open with a soft click, and God, there, the bane and savior of his existence--the Peacock Miraculous. Ashamed as he was to admit it, his fingers were shaking when he pulled it out and held it in his hands. His heart thudding quickly in his chest, he slipped the Miraculous into his breast pocket and then turned his attention back to the rest of the contents; a picture of Emilie, an airline ticket, a thick book—
Félix stiffened suddenly. Someone else was coming. He turned slowly, finding that the door was already open, a dark shape sliding inside just as he had minutes before. It turned to him and it really felt as if time had slowed to a crawl.
"Félix," Luka breathed, and at the sound something exploded in his chest, the blast radiating through every limb. Félix would never admit it, but there was another reason to avoid Luka besides the way his eyes reached inside his heart, besides how he could feel and see things and tempt the untemptable out. His throat tightened for a moment, in his mind he wrapped any errant thoughts in a great box and chained it closed, slamming both hands atop the lid to hold back the monster.
Félix straightened, then put a hand on his hip, his mask as smooth as always. "Well, I hadn't expected company tonight. Yours least of all."
The bastard had the gall to soften, a chuckle escaping his lips. "That makes two of us. What are you doing here?" Luka walked towards him, the sleek black of his scales shined ever so slightly from the faint light coming through the two windows.
"This is my uncle's house. When we have business in France, we stay here." Luka seemed to freeze for a moment, and Félix watched him draw the connections, quick tabulations taking place over his face. "As clandestine as my actions may appear, I have a reason to be here. But I'm curious what yours might be." There was no point in hiding the open safe and the subterfuge he'd been undergoing. Still, he turned off the monocle and tucked it in his pants pocket so he could regard Luka clearly.
They were testing each other, and they both knew it. Luka drew several steps closer. "Apparently your uncle is hiding something important, and I'm trying to find out where."
Félix raised a brow. "Another paid job?"
Another soft laugh. "No. This is personal."
His lips curled into a smirk, parroting back what Luka had said moments ago. "I suppose that makes two of us, then." Félix stepped to the side, leaving the safe in full view--he had what he needed. Whatever Luka wanted in the safe, it couldn't possibly be more precious than what he'd already taken. Luka's brows drew together in confusion but resolve quickly took over and he closed the remaining gap, his hands immediately drawn to the thick, red leather-bound book in the safe. He flipped through it briefly before blue eyes lifted to regard him, cloying and curious, searching, digging.
"Why?" In the end, that was the only question Luka could ask.
Why? Why indeed. Félix was about to chide him about asking such non-specific questions, but Luka suddenly turned from him, a grimace on his face. His hand quickly reached for his bracelet. A nervous tick? No, surely nothing that simple.
"When was your uncle supposed to be back home?" Luka asked quickly, and alarm spread through Félix’s body. He grit his teeth. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He should have already made off with the Miraculous, but here he'd been, making light chatter with Luka like he had all the time in the world. This was why he was to be avoided--
Luka didn't wait for an answer, his mouth set into a grim determination that fit his face so well. He twisted the bracelet on his wrist, and with a hiss and a flash of dull, dark teal, his outfit changed design in an instant. Gone was the sharp jacket and close-fitting scale decorated pants, replaced by a jet black, robed shirt, cinched at the waist and wrists with dark teal wraps and similarly styled bottoms. Thick boots were changed to sleek, flat black shoes. The dark eye mask that framed his blue eyes was simplified, no longer sporting the sharp white fang design that curved along his cheekbones, and a black mask covered his handsome nose and mouth.
Luka quickly tucked the book in a side satchel that was slug around his waist (Félix could see, briefly, that the lyre was hidden there as well). Had he not watched the transformation take place, he probably wouldn't have thought it was Luka at all; even his cerulean eyes had changed colors to a flat jade green--none of the same emotion swam in those depths.
Félix had assumed that the lyre's ability to incapacitate those that heard it was the Snake Miraculouses power, or perhaps it was the gift of intuition, the ability to see through others like they were reading a book (Of course, then he had heard Luka's playing from across the river this morning; the way that he knew it was him, how he felt his heart lurch in his chest, how Luka would look at him like he knew every emotion and thought that ran through his head--all of it disproved those theories). Could this transformation be the Snake Miraculous's true power?
Luka slapped the safe closed behind the painting just as the door to the atelier inched open. Félix felt Luka move behind him, strong hands coming around to grip his shoulders. Luka's mouth dipped to his ear, whispering, "Play along, I'll figure this out." Félix's mind quickly ran through his options. Now that he had the Peacock Miraculous, Gabriel was much less of a threat, but he was still someone he needed to interact with on the regular. Not that he and Gabriel had the best of relationships, but if he and Adrien were to ever be the same as they were--
Félix shut his mind down with a snarl at his inner thoughts. By far the best defense in this case would be a pretend lack of control, so just as Gabriel's shoe came into view through the doorway and Luka wrapped an arm around his throat and the other pinned his arms behind him, Félix simply let it happen. Beyond anything else, he was burning with curiosity to know just how far Luka could get without his help.
Gabriel came into full view, back steeled tall, eyebrows knit furiously together, mouth twisted down in that signature frown that he really ought to have trademarked by now. If he was afraid, he didn't show it.
Luka tightened his grip slightly, moving them further to the corner (the exact opposite direction of the door, Félix noted irritably). "Interrupted, just as things were getting interesting. Boss won't be happy about that," Luka's voice was tense, but light with a false tone of cheeriness--not him at all, some false masquerade to match the play he was enacting.
Gabriel took a full step into the room, closing the door behind him as if he was alone, not facing an intruder and his most hated nephew. He leveled them with the fullest extent of his icy gaze, fury simmering beneath the surface. "I must warn you; the police are already on their way. Whatever you expected to find here, you will not be walking away with it. I doubt you'll be walking away at all."
"You'd be surprised what I'm capable of. I wouldn't come closer. Even if you don't like the kid, wouldn't look good to have a dead body on your hands, would it? All kinds of nasty attention come with that." Luka pulled him another step backward, towards the window that flanked Emilie's portrait. Was jumping out the window really his plan?
"Who sent you?" Gabriel asked, his voice clipped and strained. "What are you after?"
"Aw, you gotta know better than that," Luka's false voice chided playfully. Félix felt Luka's hand gently, slowly letting go of his arms behind his back, but he stayed put. "Cronies like me don't ever get the whole story--" just as Luka's last word fell, Félix was pulled against Luka's chest with all the impact of a high-speed car crash, glass shattering around their feet and the explosive sound ringing in his head. He closed his eyes as a reflex against the shards of glass and his feet were pulled from the ground, Luka’s arms wrapped around him in a twisted embrace. A shard of glass ripped through the sleeve of his shirt as he was pulled back through the window, out into the cold air of the night. If he ever wondered how it felt to fly through the air like he'd seen Luka do the first night he saved his life, he never would have to guess again. The wind whipped through his hair; his stomach glued to his spine at the intense lurching sensation. When they finally faltered to stop several moments later Félix sagged against Luka's body reflexively, trying to find his own bearings.
"Sorry about that," Luka gasped, he leaned against the wall of the alley he had dropped them in. "That was the best plan out of the bunch."
Félix could feel the steady heartbeat from Luka's chest, he counted the beats, 1, 2, 3, 4, before pushing out of Luka's protective embrace and stumbling the 3 feet across the alley to drop his weight against the neighboring wall. The cut on his arm began to pulsate slightly, reminding him he'd been sliced open, that the precious blood that dripped was supposed to be inside him, not out (At least it was blood, real, red, warm, being pumped through his body rather than something jet black. The blood he bled was that of a man, not a monster).
"Does it hurt?" Luka asked. His voice and clothes were back to normal, and those ocean blue depths sparked with concern.
"Fine," Félix snapped, hating the way the word lashed out on his tongue, the vulnerability of the word. He took a breath, working calm into his voice, working back in the detachment, the cold. "It's just a scratch. Nothing for you to worry about." Especially not you. "I'm curious why you didn't just leave me up there," Félix said, eyes scanning the alleyway, judging their distance from the Agreste mansion by how close the Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance. Half a kilometer away, at least.
"I'm sorry about that, too. I still have some questions for you."
Félix raised his brows at him, face the picture of incredulity.
Luka rubbed his neck. "You're not obligated to answer any of them, but it would make it easier."
"And if I don't?" Félix wondered what Luka's version of the non-easy route would be.
He laughed again, that same soft chuckle, the one he was growing far too accustomed to hearing. "Nothing? I don't know, I can't make you do anything you don't want to. That's just the kind of guy you are."
Luka didn't even bother denying there might be something he would do if Félix were someone else. Interesting, that. What was the best move here?
Félix let out an undignified snort. "I don't trust my uncle. He doesn't trust me. I felt like there was something he was hiding, and I wanted to know what."
They watched each other silently, a chess match out of words and wits. "And you found it?" Luka asked. "What he was hiding?"
"Yes. And evidently, so did you," he said, eyes dropping to the satchel slung around Luka's waist. While the rest of the outfit had returned to normal, that had stayed the same. A wail of sirens blared past them, headed towards the Agreste Mansion. The two of them ignored it. Luka's mouth was pressed in a thin line. One gloved hand reached for the inner pocket of his black scaled jacket, pulling out the Peacock Miraculous Félix had stolen.
When had he taken it? When they were falling? Before? Félix couldn't help the involuntary tilt towards it, but he paused and clenched his fingers into fists instead. "Well, you have much more in common with a crook than I thought," he said.
"And here I am, thinking the same of you. How expensive are your shoes? 600 dollars’ worth?" he quipped, a callback to their first conversation. Luka tossed the Miraculous back to him with a lazy underhanded throw. Félix caught it, but he couldn't quite mask the surprise on his face. "It's fake. Your uncle's smarter than you thought."
Fake? How could he tell? Félix flipped the jewel around several times, looking for any indication it was fabricated, but he found none. "How do you know?" he asked, voice dripped in suspicion.
"I can sense it. Give it a shot. You know the words?" Luka asked, now crossing his arms and leaning back up against the alley wall.
Félix straightened. Would knowing the words be too much of a tell? Would it matter? With Luka, he doubted it. If he was asking, he likely already sensed that he did know them. This round went to Luka; he never would have given it back if it was fake.
Félix threw it back, having no use for pretty baubles. "Well. There's one evening wasted," he said drily, watching Luka catch it and roll it over his knuckles, between his fingertips, easy as breathing.
"Why did you want it in the first place?" Luka stashed the fake in his bag.
"Because the last person that should have it is a man like my uncle." And that, that was the truth.
"As opposed to you…?"
"I've no interest in using it to terrorize Paris. It used to belong to my aunt, you know. It should be with my mother, if anything, not Gabriel."
Flinty eyes stared into his. "So, you've known Gabriel Agreste was Hawk Moth this whole time and you decided not to tell anyone? Why? You really want others to suffer that badly?" Luka's voice was cold--now that was more like it. Félix could handle cold.
Félix put his hands in his pockets, casually crossing one ankle over the other. "I'm not Mother Theresa. I take care of the people I care about, and that's all. My cousin is innocent to a painful degree. How would he feel to know his father was the one holding Paris under siege? And what would happen to Gabriel if he were caught? A long, publicly drawn-out trial where the Agreste and Graham de Vanily's names are dragged through the mud? Family matters should be dealt with by the family."
"And is that why I haven't heard anything about the other uncle that tried to kill you?"
Félix rolled his eyes. Now there was a topic that put him in a sour mood. "That would be the reason you haven't heard of it, although we've yet to find where the rat is hiding. But yes, it will be dealt with privately, between him and our lawyers."
"Doesn't sound like your family life is very warm and fuzzy."
Félix's smile twisted. "We all have our crosses to bear. Now, are you finished with your cross-examination? Am I allowed to ask why you wanted that book so badly?"
Luka's smile was guarded, and he shrugged. "I just like the pictures."  
Bastard. The book had to hold some significance for him to go through all the trouble to get it. He'd investigate that later--that and the plane ticket. He hadn't thought either was of any importance, but if the book was important then the old plane ticket might be related. "How charming of you," Félix pushed off the wall. "Well. I ought to be getting back."
"Would they believe you escaped by yourself?" Luka asked.
"It wouldn't be out of character if that's what you're asking." He smiled icily. "I'm feisty."
"I'm sure," he said with a chuckle. "Félix?"
Félix turned to leave but stopped when Luka called his name. He didn't bother looking back, didn't like the stutter in his heart when Luka said his name. The monster shook the chained box dangerously beneath his fingertips. "What?"  
"You don't have to bear your crosses alone."
Félix barked a laugh, but it caught in his throat, strangling him. He left (ran) without another word, and took off back to the Agreste mansion, going from one personal hell to another. He had nightmares, later, of Luka chaining him down with uncompromising strength, a steely but warm hand trapping his arms behind him, his other arm wrapped around his throat. That soft voice holding him down, whispering nothing but kind words in his ears, lips drawing down to his cheek, neck--
Luka would have to pay for that, and soon.
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seudxnimx · 1 year
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A click of his tongue followed by a groan. While not embarrassed per say, he knew how society viewed sex and also what it was like among his guy friends. None of them had ever understood Raitaros lack of obsession with hook ups. "Two years ago." The younger eventually gave up, very well prepared for mockery so it was followed with a rushed "Whatever, okay?" Did he need to get laid? This was the first comment that finally made him glance at them again. "I don't wanna fuck some random person. Not even gonna make me hard." If they were being honest he would jump on that as well, not like the two of them had anything to hide from each other really. Now one thing that did get him a little embarrassed was being called out about his behaviour earlier. Genuinely he had believed that it wasn't THAT obvious, which was kinda naive. "That's different, you're you." The fuck was he saying?? A shake of his head, a curse under his breath and yet another groan. "I guess I'd fuck you cause you're you AND you're hot. You aren't just someone- i mean- Fuck I don't know." Of course they were attractive, honestly the most beautiful person he had come across in years but he had never really admitted his desire for them until now. This was all Tsuki's fault. Them and their stupid honest ways.
Two years got him a surprised look, they can’t imagine going two months without some kind of hook up but they weren’t pushing their ways on him, it was curiosity at first but they tilted their head a bit at the quick follow up, “You would have no problem grabbing g a hook up if you wanted.” Tsuki has been alive a lot longer and maybe that was it. It was nice to have moments in forever that felt good, even bad sex could be enjoyable and Tsuki never minded speaking out and saying what he likes to get off. Raitaro could manage the same and they are sure he’s helped himself a time or two, certainly the last time he hooked up with someone wasn’t the last time he orgasmed.
They were not expecting him to get quite so tongue tied over this though, “Oh. You like knowing the person, that’s not uncommon - and you know me. Makes sense.” They nod in their own understanding of what Raitaro is trying to say, not reading between those lines, Tsuki didn’t want messy, they just wanted to have hook up, with who never really mattered to them. “Well, for being such a good boy and taking me to the party, I suppose we can make that happen.” The tease light at calling him a good boy, truly, they wondered what he was like in bed, how could one not. Taro was big and strong and god he was stupidly handsome, to not want to see him under or on top of them would be more of a sun than letting their mind wander. “My official Valentine then, Hm. Guess I will have to buy you a box of chocolates. They’ll be on sale tomorrow.”
They do like Taro but emotions were something Tsuki kept so quiet that they never really saw it as more than just friends. Friends helped each other with things like this and Tsuki has done it before but that friend was long gone by now, still they don’t see the harm in it and didn’t then. For a brief moment he does wonder what Raijin might think of his son fucking on the job, or, tucking the actual job but that just makes them smile a bit.
0 notes
bucksfucks · 3 years
Text
  𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙚
      TFATWS EPISODE THREE SPOILERS.
summary┃the plan was simple. get in, get out, and always remember rule number three; no one gets hurt.
pairing┃tws!bucky x f!reader
word count┃1,935 words
warnings┃dubcon elements, soft!dark!tws, semi-public sex, choking, spitting kink, metal arm kink, soldat kink, death threat, degradation, mocking, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI
notes┃PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH ANY MENTIONED ELEMENTS.
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     “Is the plan understood?” It’s Zemo who asks the question, nodding to each of you as you all exchange looks before heading your separate ways.
    When you enter the scene, you can feel the floor shaking under your feet from the bass. Drinks are passed around with bodies floating through the space.
    “And I thought we knew how to party in New York.” Your voice is muffled over the music, but you know Bucky can hear you.
    “I haven’t partied like this ever.” He has to yell back in order for you to hear him as you both laugh.
    You have to push your way through the crowd before stopping at where Sam and Zemo are left waiting for you.
    Zemo nods towards Bucky, Bucky taking in a deep breath before giving him one nod.
    He’s wearing something you’d never seen him in; Winter Soldier gear sans the mask.
    “Longing.” You can see the twitch in Bucky’s metal fingers.
    “Rusted.” It gets worse as he tenses his jaw.
    “Furnace.” You have to look away when you see the pained look in his face.
    Sam looks at you, a look that tells you to stick to the plan so you drift back and mix into the crowd.
    You were nothing but a distraction, a distraction that would hopefully buy you guys some time.
    But something went wrong.
    Something always goes wrong.
    You can see the obvious and evident switch in Bucky—there’s something more sinister in his eyes now as he watches you move from side to side; standing completely motionless and trained on you.
    There’s a moment of realization when you realize just what’s happened.
    A moment of oh fuck before he’s striding over to you and grasping at your upper arms.
    “Come with me, Bunny. We have some unfinished business.” His voice is low and calm, parts of Bucky shining through, but you can’t seem to find him in his eyes.
    “Bucky,” you try remain calm, but his hip is firm and you know that this is a battle you won’t win in.
    You can’t help it when your voice falters in fear, but you can’t afford to bring any attention to yourself.
    Sam is elsewhere, Zemo in tow as your eyes dart to find them—at the bar, drinking.
    You were all alone, you had no backup; Bucky was your backup.
    He was no longer Bucky, but the Winter Soldier.
    “I said come. Don’t make me put you over my shoulder.” He threatened as you swallowed thickly.
    You quickly search for Sam or Zemo, but they’re long gone. The distraction worked and they’d be proceeding with the plan.
    What they didn’t know is that Bucky wasn’t Bucky.
    It didn’t feel like a threat, you felt your pussy jump in excitement at the prospect of Bucky’s hands on your body.
    Your feet moved instinctually through the crowd, lead by Bucky as he took one final scan of the room to make sure that you were alone; that no one was following you.
    You didn’t feel helpless, it was more than you felt like you were under a spell—inclined to do whatever Bucky wanted.
    Suddenly you were slammed up against a wall, the air being knocked out of your lungs as you let out a pained hiss.
    “Scream, and I’ll kill you.” He looked feral.
    “Try to fight back, and I’ll kill you.” Darkness consumed his eyes.
    “Do anything other than what I tell you, and I’ll kill you.”
    You want to scream, to kick and fight back—you know that you damn well could put up on hell of a fight.
    But you don’t.
    Instead, you submit and comply.
    “Yes,” you whisper, watching the smirk spread across his face.
    “There’s my good girl. A dumb and stupid, but a good girl.” He purrs, running his gloved finger down your cheek until it’s hooked under your chin.
    You whimper, lip shaking with your sharp inhale.
    “Bucky,” you croak before your face is tightly gripped between his fingers as he snarls and shows you his teeth.
    “You will call me, Soldat.” He rasped, dark and sinister with no mercy in sight.
    A silent mewl escaped through your parted lips as you shut your eyes tightly, trying to steady your breathing as your heart begged to be set free.
    “What’s my name?” He asks you, a test of your loyalty as you pry your eyes open.
    “Soldat,” you whisper back, a pleased smile on his face as he hears the syllables leave your lips.
    “Good, maybe you aren’t as useless as I thought.” He snickers, dropping your face but trapping you against the wall with his flesh forearm against your neck.
    Your airway is constricted for a second, laboured and painful before Bucky is pulling you off of the wall.
    “Follow me,” he barks, tugging you by the back of the neck until you budge.
    His strides are long as you’re forced to keep up with him, walking through hallways so robotically with a stiff body.
    You don’t know where you’re going, but the booming music is getting softer.....quieter, straying further and further out of your reach.
    Bucky’s shoulders look huge, absolutely massive in the tight leather outfit he’s wearing. You know he’s in there somewhere, you just don’t know how to reach him.
    But maybe you don’t want to.
    Suddenly, you’re pushed against a wall, with his metal hand covering your mouth as your eyes go wide and you try to gasp.
    “Don’t scream, Bunny.” He purrs, smirking as you hear two sets of footsteps go past you, completely unaware that there’s someone else in their presence.
    Your heart is in your throat when he removes his hand, tugging you off the wall again so he’s holding your entire body weight up with his arm.
    “Good girl, you learn quickly.” He praises, finger hooked up your chin. His lips hover right over yours, brushing them slightly—just enough to leave you wanting more.
    There’s a flutter in your stomach, a feeling akin to when you’ve gone over a large hill or descended on a roller coaster; exciting and terrifying all at once.
    “I’ve always been so,” he trails his finger down your jaw, “intrigued by you.”
    You don’t know what it means, but you want to.
    You’re shoved into a small room, a closet that barely fits the two of you. It’s dark and smells like aged wood.
    His thigh is wedged between your legs, “always following orders.” He hums against your ear, nipping the skin below it.
    “A Soldat’s dream,” it’s dark, the way he refers to himself.
    “You’re gonna let me do whatever I want to you, Bunny.”
    It’s not a question, you don’t have a choice, you’ve unwittingly sealed your fate as he meshes his lips against yours.
    It’s overwhelming; his thick, padded thigh creating delicious friction against your cunt. Or the way his teeth sink into your bottom lip, tugging it to hear your soft whimpers.
    You feel the wet, hot tell-tale signs of tears roll down your cheeks as Bucky pulls away to cradle your face.
    It’s dark but your eyes are fully adjusted. It’s just too bad that you can see nothing else but darkness in his eyes.
    “There’s no need to cry, Bunny,” he cooes, “I will take care of you.”
    You’re unsure why you trust him, why you feel your body giving into him, but that’s what happens next.
    A sinister chuckle passes through his lips as he tugs your pants down.
    “I can smell you already,” he hisses, his cock hardening against your hip.
    “You can try to fight me, Bunny. But your body tells me that you want this, that you need my cock filling you up.”
    Your pussy jumps at his words, breathing ragged and heavy as the ache in your core burns right through you.
    Your mouth falls open when you hear the whirring of his bionic fingers massage you slowly through your panties.
    “I never said I wouldn’t make this enjoyable for you,” he smirks, watching you closely as your hands go to the vest he’s wearing.
    He snarls, grabbing them at your wrists and lifting them over your head as you shudder at his strength.
    If he wanted to kill you, he would’ve already.
    “Maybe you are stupid,” he hisses. “Did I give you permission to touch?” He asks.
    He nudges your clit with more force making you squeak.
    He wanted an answer.
    “N-no, Soldat.” You croak, feeling an sensation of...fulfillment when he smiles.
    “Good little Bunny.” He sing-songs, “so wet and responsive.”
    You gasp, mewl, arch your back as he slips two vibranium fingers into you. A shiver runs down your spine at the coolness of them, your walls welcoming them warmly.
    “Can you hear that?” He asks, “hear how fuckin’ wet you are?”
    You can, you can hear your wetness coating his fingers as he pumps them inside of you.
    It’s absolutely filthy.
    His other hand drops your wrists to your sides, flesh fingers crawling around your neck.
    “Look at me, Bunny.” You don’t need to be told twice as your eyes shoot open.
    “Open that pretty little mouth of you,” his voice is low and raspy, but collected despite his aching cock pressed against your hip.
    His thumb presses into your bottom lip, folding it down to encourage you to open your mouth. Which you do, because he’s just too damn compelling.
    You gasp back a moan, thick digits inside of your cunt now brushing that sweet, sweet, sweet spot as you watch Bucky’s saliva trail into your own mouth.
    “Mine.” He growls, forcing your mouth closed, watching you swallow.
    Your heartbeat reverberates in your ears, blood soaring to and from your heart as you feel yourself clenching around him.
    “All. Fucking. Mine.” His words send you toppling over the edge, legs shaking and convulsing gently as he has to hold you up as you come.
    There’s a zip, a tug of something, a gasp for breath as you feel his cock at your entrance.
    “There’s no running now, Bunny. I’m gonna consume you,” he snarls, pushing himself past the threshold as he groans at the feeling of your wetness.
    You’re forced to dig your fingernails into the leather of his jacket—clawing at it as you relish in the stretch.
    He grunts with every powerful thrust, his chest colliding with your chest as he holds you up with ease.
    He’s using you. Eyebrows taut as he focuses on one thing and one thing only; his carnal instincts.
    “Shut up,” he seethes, shoving his fingers into your mouth.
    They’re cool, tasting like your own arousal and something you can’t quite decipher.
    “Say my name, say it.” He pants into your ear, something in his voice breaking.
    “S-Soldat.” You choke out, trying to focus on the words that are coming out of your mouth.
    “My name,” he whispers, “say, my name.”
    Your heart hiccups as you open your eyes, “Bucky.”
    He’s there, he’s looking at you—holding you tightly as you can see the same light in his eyes that you did just an hour ago.
    “Bucky.” You say with more conviction, more confidently as you crash your lips on his.
    “Your name is Bucky.” You whisper against his lips, feeling pleasure seeping in through your toes and spreading upwards.
    The air is thick and hot, sticky and wet as you both catch your breaths.
    You don’t trust your own legs to hold you weight, but when they hit the solid marble floor, you don’t have a choice.
    “My name is Bucky,” he whispers, holding your face in one hand.
    “But you are still my Bunny.”
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Genuine review of high guardian spice
Unfortunately due to the admittedly poor marketing, most of the reviews for HGS are gonna be in bad faith, just the typical “woke bad” nonsense arguments, but this one will be my attempt at a mostly balanced review. Might be a bit all over the place but I’ll try and cover everything.
Characters
One thing about HGS is that it’s very by the numbers. If you’ve watched little witch academia you’ve already watched this. HGS didn’t do anything new frl, at least with the main characters, which is fine as long as the writing is strong but the writing was pretty so-so. The mc is Rosemary, or Rose and she’s the typical happy go lucky protagonist, the most interesting thing about her was that her mom was a famous magical girl warrior named lavender who disappeared years before the story begins. Her mom also has supreme character design, she looks like a cross between spop she ra and utena
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Anyways there’s not much to say about Rose or any of her friends. They all fulfill a pretty standard role, Sage is the insecure childhood bsf, Parsley is the brash, forward one, and Thyme is the stoic, quiet one, she’s also best girl. Your enjoyment of these characters will largely depend on if you enjoy the character writing and their interactions bc you’ve probably seen these archetypes before and they go through the same character arc.
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So yeah the mcs were run of the mill, but the side characters were honestly really fun. Some of them were archetypical, you got the snobbish bully girl but she ends up calling her mom a thot and that was hilarious, but you also got underused archetypes. There’s a character who’s trans and one who’s in the closet and you don’t ever see those types of characters in these types of shows so it was nice seeing a positive storyline develop about gender identity that kept me far more intrigued than whatever parsley was going through.
Story
HGS is a magical school story not a magical girl story despite what the name suggests. The girls learn more about themselves through a setting of a school rather than have a monster of the week to fight. There’s an overarching plot about the mysterious disappearance of lavender, the rot, and some evil Organization that’s in the background but it’s mostly about the interpersonal relationship and drama between the characters. Which is fair game, it’s the first season so they’re establishing all the characters and their arcs. The plot doesn’t really start until a little more than halfway through the season and it’s not bad. The tonal shift, which I will get into later, is kind of jarring bc it goes from 0 to 100 very suddenly and a more even tone would’ve helped the shift from lighthearted to serious but a lot of western cartoons do the exact same thing these days. It’s hard not to compare this to little witch academia but it takes so many cues and plot points from that show it’s kind of crazy. It’s not a bad thing ig I just wish I didn’t have to see almost the exact same story play out when there’s so much more you can do with the magical school story.
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Tone
Aside what I mentioned prior , I think one of the biggest things holding the show back is its tonal inconsistency and I honestly think if it was upfront about the type of show it was from the jump it would’ve been much better for it. I wouldn’t say the show is dark but it’s also not for kids bc of the occasional swearing and light gore moments. The show tries very hard to appeal to children and then a character will randomly say shit or asshole and it’s like huh? If this show is supposed to be for teenagers then a more evenly dark/edgy tone would’ve suited it far better. Be up front that this is the type of show where the characters will swear and bleed from episode one bc it felt super jarring and out of place to hear them swear, even if it was occasionally.
Aesthetics
Not really equipped to talk about the animation so correct me if I’m wrong but from a viewers stand point it was alright. You can obviously tell where they took short cuts, especially in certain action scenes but other action scenes looked pretty good. Ig that’s typical anime budget. The ost was actually really good, I loved the background theme they used, I thought it was super charming and fit with the theme of the show. The opening and ending themes were awful tho and I skipped them everytime 😅 The art style was also decent, some of the characters looked good like lavender, Thyme, the demon teacher, and that trans masc teacher I forgot the name of. Some of them looked like extras from spop, and others looked like they were from how to draw anime books. It was kind of generic looking save for a few stand out characters. Forgot to mention the voice acting and dialogue so I’ll just put it here, it’s the definition of hit or miss. Sometimes the dialogue is good but the VA sucks, sometimes the dialogue is awful but the VAs carry it, usually it’s just okay so I’d say it’s like early RWBY quality. It doesn’t touch the funi dubs in any capacity.
Diversity
HGS has a so-so diverse cast of characters but the actual quality of representation was lacking. Way too many white characters and way too little lgbt+ characters for what is supposed to be “diverse”. Give me more than ONE black mc and lgbt+ characters that aren’t in the supporting cast, kipo and the owl house have set the bar high, anything below that isn’t good enough if you want to claim diversity brownie points. Trans rep was amazing tho I’ll give them that.
Overall
Most of the hate surrounding HGS is an overreaction from maladjusted weebs. It was not a dumpster fire nor was it the next madoka magica it was just average. Worst sin it committed was being boring and dialogue heavy. Otherwise an even tone and less generic characters would’ve worked wonders and probably could’ve reached a decent fanbase if it were marketed probably. If you plan to watch it, go in expecting something average and you might be surprised here or there.
Score: 6/10
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landinoandco · 3 years
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An Unlikely Grand Prix
Daniel Ricciardo x reader
Warnings: flufffff
Word count: 2.1k
Requests are open :)
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The Belgium Grand Prix was one that was highly anticipated - not only did it mark the end of the summer break and start to the second part of the season but it also promised some quality racing with its high speed corners.
You and Daniel were sitting in your hotel room on Sunday morning, a drink of coffee in your hand and a vitamin smoothie in his, your laptop open in front of you as you made some edits to the latest version of your book. You were an author and about to finish the final edit of your new novel.
“Have you seen the weather forecast for today?” He asked, leaning onto his forearms. You looked over your laptop lid and nodded, taking off your glasses.
“I have, you better be careful. It was bad enough in qualifying yesterday - “ You paused, saving your work and closing your laptop down. “I don’t care what people say - wet races always make me nervous. They shouldn’t have sent you out in Q3, it was hard to watch.”
A silence fell between the both of you, Daniel watched with a softness in his eyes. He knew exactly how you felt and he loved how supportive you were of him. You were his biggest fan and he could not be more thankful for it - you were there for him every weekend through rain and sunshine and through good races and bad races. You knew him better than anyone.
“I will be as careful as I can -” He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I really feel like I’m getting somewhere though - P4.” He exclaimed, a smile flashing across his handsome features. You brushed your thumb over his hand.
“It was a really good lap - especially given the weather.” You agreed.
You moved your gaze to the window - the steady sound of rain hitting the hotel window filled the room.
“It’s definitely going to be a tense one.” Daniel muttered, pushing his chair back and getting up. You followed and made your way to the door, shrugging on your coat as you went.
The rain was pouring down as though the heavens above had opened - Daniel held an umbrella above both of you, sheltering you from the downpour. Members from different teams raced around the paddock to dry shelter - the buzz of conversation could already be heard from the grandstand in front of the pitlane. You admired the dedication of the fans; it was far from just a shower and for those exposed without even the slightest of cover would be drenched to the bone even by now and the grand prix was far from starting.
You looked over to Dan, his eyes twinkling and a spring in his step told you that he was looking forward to today’s race. His eyes flickered down to meet your gaze, bumping his shoulder into yours causing you to chuckle.
It was incredible to think about all of the things you two had managed to fit into 3 (going on 4) years. You met each other on the top of Table Mountain in Cape Town, you were there plotting for your next novel and Daniel was there hiking with his friends…
You were sat on a rock, looking out to the city of Cape Town tucked away under the mountain range - you were out in South Africa on an escape from the cramped conditions of London. You had a deadline quickly approaching to come up with a plot for your next book and as of that moment you still weren’t any closer to coming up with the next bestseller. Sure, you had ideas but they were yet to set a light a fire of motivation in you.
You had zoned out, your gaze attached to a bird soaring across the landscape ahead of you when a sudden voice pulled you swiftly out.
“Whatchu’ writing about?” The man asked, his tone was bright and as you looked over at him you saw the beaming smile stretched across his features. His eyes showed a confident but kind manner, brown curls stuck to his forehead and the beginnings of a beard covered the bottom half of his face.
“If I knew, I would tell you.” You quipped back, turning to face the man in order to see him properly. He had a muscular physique, no doubt a sportsman - you had thought at the time - an explosion of colour seeping out from his shorts caught your eye as you clocked the tattoos; they weren’t the only ones either as little drawings were littered over his hands and arms.
“Nice tattoos.” You complimented, nodding over to him. If it was at all possible, his smile grew larger and he put his fist out.
“I’m Daniel, by the way, Daniel Ricciardo.”
The rest was history - an adventure packed history. One filled with enough adrenaline to last you for the rest of your existence. The introductions had also prompted your next plot idea so the following week when you had returned to London you turned it into your agent - who had immediately loved the outline you had presented.
A few hours later and the start of the Belgium grand prix was approaching but still the track was resembling more of a spa - ironically - than a safe and functional track. Dan walked in from the drivers parade and shivered - his coat having provided no cover.
Frowning, you got up and handed him a towel, “What are the conditions like?” Nerves laced your tone. Dan sat down, shrugging, “They’re what we expected them to be like but it’s really rough. If we can even see 6 feet ahead it would be a miracle.”
A miracle was something they were all desperate for and before they knew it the race had been red flagged - deemed too dangerous to race so all of the teams were in their garages coming up with ways to entertain themselves.
You had made your way out of the McLaren garage to join Daniel who was wandering up and down the pitlane looking for a way to cause havoc.
You crept up to him and grabbed his shoulders and shouted: “boo,” in his ear causing him to jump up in shock and scream. You and many witnesses were doubled over in laughter as the Australian held his hand to his chest.
“I just came to say -” You started, “That you looked like you were about to do something mischievous and I wanted in on whatever your plan was.”
Dan looked at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a lopsided grin formed on his face. At that moment, he had never loved you more. It was a strange feeling that he couldn’t quite describe - it was just one he felt warming up his entire body. One thing he had always adored about you was the way you understood him - at the beginning of the relationship he knew you had found it hard to deal with his childish, devil may care attitude. As soon as you relaxed more around him, you two became more comfortable with one another - you decided to try his way of living. Letting fate take you to your next adventure and enjoying the unpredictability of it all. From your first adrenaline seeking adventure Dan had managed to persuade you to join him in - he knew he had found his partner in crime. Most importantly, Dan had taught you a way of living that was more enjoyable, a way of living that allowed you to get more out of life and push your comfort zone right to the limit.
“I have a few ideas.” He smirked, then grabbed your hand twirling you around as though you were ballroom dancing.
“What are you doing?” You giggled, the corners of your eyes crinkled as he pulled you into his chest, guiding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder as he grasped the other in his and held them up as though you were dancing the waltz; finally placing his hand on your waist.
“I don’t suppose you would have seen it but in 2015, the American qualifying was cancelled due to rain and to pass the time I danced with my teammate. I figured I would make a tradition of it.” He explained, twirling you around again.
“Did Lando not want to dance with you?” You questioned, the corners of your lips quirked up. Daniel stopped and took a step back. For a moment you thought you had said something wrong but then a spray of water splashed up the front of your coat. Gasping, you wiped the water from your face and Daniel’s smug smile came into focus. You looked down to where he was standing and saw a gaping hole that had now filled up with water.
“You little-” You had begun, a smile betraying you entirely as it crept upon your features. You wanted to pretend to be angry but he had caught you off guard.
“I thought that you would be a nicer dance partner - but apparently not.” He retorted, biting down on his lip in an attempt to stifle his laughter at your facial expressions. You looked at him and then down at the puddle, back at Daniel and then decided what your next move would be; before you could however he had picked you up over his shoulder, spinning around happily.
“Daniel-” You protested, having to close your eyes to avoid feeling motion sick. You heard him chortle then give in as you felt your two feet touch the ground once again. You pouted at him, strands of hair now stuck to your forehead - it was a sight to behold. Daniel’s heart skipped a beat, his breath becoming shallower as he brushed the loose strands of hair from your face. He had decided at that moment that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he was ready to start the next chapter of his life with you. It would be a brand new adventure and probably the scariest yet.
“Marry me.” He mumbled, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He froze, an idea sparked, turning on his heel he fled in the direction of the McLaren garage.
Your eyebrows drew together in confusion, your heart thumping against your ribs. Drawing your lower lip between your teeth, you glanced around you only to realise the whole of the pitlane and grandstand of fans had fallen silent - watching on in anticipation. Had they heard what he had said? How could they have, Daniel had muttered so quietly even you had struggled to hear the words that tumbled from his lips. Little did you know, a camera had caught every moment and you were now the sole focus as you waited for Daniel to come back.
Moments later and he was running out of the McLaren garage, something in his left hand. You squinted to get a better look, from where you were standing all you could see was a flash of blue - but as he came closer you realised what he was holding was in fact a Haribo packet.
Your hands flew to cover your mouth, you knew exactly what he was about to do. You were fighting back tears of joy as he opened the haribo packet and pulled out a gummy ring, got down on one knee and said: “Marry me. Our new adventure, just you and me. My partner in crime.”
Tears ran down your cheeks as you nodded fervently, words appearing to fail you. You flung your arms around his neck. There was an eruption of cheer from around you, as fans whistled and clapped and fellow teams called out in congratulations.
You placed a hand either side of Daniel’s face, tears shone in his eyes. To most a gummy ring would seem immature - laughable even but to you, it confirmed to you how much you loved the man standing in front of you. The gummy ring he had presented to you meant so much more than being a Haribo. It represented you both as a couple. A love that was unconditional and would never get old and yet whilst you both would age - the love you had for one another would stay youthful, unpredictable and exciting.
You were more than ready to start the next chapter of your adventure with the man you loved most.
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