#just a rectangular hole

[a-hopeless-individual]

y’all playing project sekai when you’re about to start your period is a recipe for disaster especially if one of the ingredients is an inclination to bite things when angry because glass screens and human teeth do not mix very well and so I’m sure you can imagine the sudden dread that hit me and snapped me out of my blind rage when I heard a little “pop” upon failing to just bite the case and accidentally straight-up giving the screen the hydraulic press treatment with my pearly whites, leaving a hearty crack at the bottom that branches out across half of the screen like a banyan tree with a little circular portion at the site of the assault where the colors are all distorted

#project sekai #project sekai colorful stage #rythm game #gamer rage #I just cried for like 10 minutes #and I called my mom because she’d just left the house to go run some errands #and she literally didn’t even know how to comfort me in this situation #but I was mostly just calling her to tell her I felt bad #she wasn’t really mad just disappointed that she had to tell her 18-year-old daughter not to bite glass #I was already agitated because of the new arknights event #because the civilians are fucking dumbasses and if they decide to run around panicking and fall in a hole that’s their fault #literally euthanizing themselves to be free of their stupidity like why do I get penalized for that #as if the enemies weren’t stressing me out enough #and then I got a notification about the new project sekai banner being released #which I’ve been eagerly waiting for because I would sell my soul for that mafuyu card #4 ten-pulls and it gave me 2 4-stars that weren’t even any of the featured ones #so I angrily started grinding unplayed songs for more pulls #and I finally just snapped when it wouldn’t register my taps on a literal hard difficulty song #like this bitch is an 18 are you fucking serious rn #and thus the desire to inflict pain on the evil rectangular sabotaging piece of shit in my hands grew too strong #the fact that I wanted the card with a cracked glass effect and ended up cracking the glass of my screen is literally insane #like I’m pissed but astounded by the irony #the world really said ‘‘don’t worry bestie you’ll get your broken glass effect’’ #also I woke up thinking today was friday only to find out that it’s not #so the frieren episode I was so ready to watch wasn’t even out #I’ve only been up for like 3 or 4 hours and the day is going horribly #hell hath no fury

[elephantbitterhead]

Redoing the sloppy work of The Demons. That first picture tells you everything you need to know about the shitfest tiling job we’re eradicating -- please also note the way they created a missing-jigsaw-piece nightmare to fit their massive waste pipe against the wall. That’s naked plasterboard behind the L-bend in the pipe. 

So far, the new tile is going well -- all hail the laser level.

#I still have to get that glob of adhesive off the tap valve #but because The Demons are demons #they of course used the shoddiest adhesive available #so hot water & some elbow grease should take care of it #I still need to grout & put a pipe collar on our work #WHICH REMINDS ME #not only does it look like they put in their fucking pipe holes with a hammer #they were also too cheap or stupid #to spend 50p on a pipe collar to hide their shame #mind you you'd need a v. large pipe collar to hide that shit #PS the new tile is blue #I resent having to use subway tile & I'm certainly not using white #the grout will match the tile #I just wanted pretty and plain tile #WHY IS IT ALL RECTANGULAR

[kendalzu]

RIDE TILL YOU CANT NO MORE.

boothill x reader | HEAVY SMUT | improper use of gas tank | improper use of USB cord. | riding fingers | cowboy man rhrhhrrhhrrhrh 🤤🤤🤤 | dom to sub teehee | BOOTHILL BRAINROT.

“just like that my honey— ride them just like that. make yourself feel good.” Boothill hissed into your ear, his sharp teeth threatening to nip at your oh so sweet neck. your moans echoing against the small room you guys were in, he kissed you harshly to shut you up.

“honeybun— shut up, you don’t want to get caught now do ya’?” his fingers curling up into your tight hole. but you had enough of his teasing and ‘mean’ remarks. you found the hole below his back, and managed to stick one of your fingers in the hole.

“hey now— that’s not.. mmgf.” his sweet whimper made you want more from him, so that’s exactly what you did. he was so adorable— putting up a face for you, but touch the right places and he will fold. his humanoid metal figure turing his gears— quite loudly..

“honey, shut up now will ya?” you mocked him while inserting one more finger inside him, making his mouth tremble and fight back his moans, but he just couldn’t help himself. his eyes were telling you everything that you needed to know.

unexpectedly— you started toying with the USB’s to the side of his waist, dragging your finger across the rectangular window of wires. if it was possible for cyborgs to cry, he would be sobbing right now.

the pleasure was all too much for him, he whined and begged you to stop or he would shut down from pure pleasure. “honey, honey please! you can’t do this to meee..” his words extended, legs bucking before his eyes went black— he shut down.

the night ended with some kisses, and you bought him home to recharge him.

#sub hsr #please reblog #boothill hsr #boothill smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #please like #my writing #my first fic #honkai star rail #honkai smut #nghhhhhh

[delta-orionis]

How Big are Iterators?

One thing Rain World does very well is portraying a sense of scale when it comes to iterators. They're massive superstructures large enough to have entire cities built on their roofs, and their processes are literally so powerful that they alter the natural environment around them.

I think in-game they're kind of meant to be unknowably huge, especially since the player character is literally a small animal who can't possibly fathom an iterator's entire extent. Despite this, I decided to try and figure out exactly how big they are.

Just a warning, this post is a bit long. I really fell down a rabbit hole here.

In-Game Clues

Five Pebbles and Looks to the Moon are the only iterators that the player can explore, but they're so huge that it's impossible to see exactly how big they are from so close. The only glimpse we get is from atop the big tree in Outer Expanse, where Five Pebbles' superstructure can be seen in the distance.

He's so big that his entire can doesn't even fit on the screen.

(Ditto, minus the clouds)

With nothing else close by to compare him to, it's almost impossible to tell exactly how big he is from this image.

However, we can see the entirety of other iterator cans in the distance from atop The Wall.

Here's what they look like not obscured by clouds:

The Speculation Zone

I made some assumptions about iterators to make my calculations easier.

An iterator's can (the large rectangular section) is 2 times as wide as it is tall.

Their legs are 1/2 the height of their can.

Their can is half obscured by a relatively uniform cloud layer.

These assumptions might not be entirely accurate, but they make the math easier.

Cloud Layer Height

At first I was tempted to try and estimate iterator height based on the cloud layer surrounding them, but I made the mistake of assuming the cloud layer is made up of rain-bearing nimbostratus clouds (which can reach up to 5km in height). This would make them literally taller than Mt. Everest. Iterators are big, but I don't think they're that big. I think it's safer to assume that the cloud layer is made up of low-lying stratus clouds that form a thick fog.

The way iterator rain functions could be an entirely different discussion, but I personally think it's caused by a sudden expulsion of large quantities of hot water vapor which very quickly condenses into rain clouds. A topic for another time, maybe. The takeaway is that I think the weather created by iterators doesn't have a clear analogue to real life weather, and it's misguided to assume that they function the same way.

Skyscraper Height

One thing that iterators have that can be compared to real life, however, is cities.

The largest buildings in these cities can be seen at a distance.

This in-game iterator sprite is 122 pixels tall, and the tallest building visible is 20 pixels tall. This means the top of this iterator's can is 5.6 times as tall as the tallest building on its roof.

We can compare these skyscrapers to the largest buildings on Earth. This requires some additional assumptions:

While the civilization that built the iterators is likely able to create skyscrapers much taller than the ones humans have created, I'm going to assume that the ones visible here are comparable in size.

I'm also going to assume that these skyscrapers are residential buildings, built to fit a high population density on top of an iterator. The tallest buildings on Earth tend to have very tall antenna spires which add to their overall height but are not inhabitable. Residential skyscrapers tend to be significantly shorter, so I'm going to use them as a comparison rather than the tallest skyscrapers on Earth in general.

According to Wikipedia, the current tallest residential skyscrapers range from about 300 meters to 475 meters tall. I'm going to assume the one in-game is 400 meters tall, as a nice even number.

5.6(400m) = 2240m

This would make an iterator's height, from ground level to the top of their can, about 2240 meters (2.24 kilometers, 1.4 miles).

Here's a diagram comparing that to the heights of some of the tallest free-standing manmade structures:

And here's a size comparison between a typical iterator can and Mount Everest:

Smaller than a mountain, but still huge.

Conclusions

Based on these estimates, I think typical iterator cans are about 2 kilometers (1.24 miles) in height.

This would make iterators significantly taller than anything created by humans, but I personally think an advanced society like the one that created the iterators would have no problem creating a structure this tall. (They canonically created thousands of iterators, after all.)

This estimate is also much shorter than my misguided original calculation, which made them taller than an entire mountain. While I do think iterators are meant to be unfathomably huge, I don't think there would be enough material on the planet to feasibly create thousands of identical mountain-sized superstructures. The player is also able to ascend from the ground to the top of Five Pebbles in just a few cycles (if they're quick), and I think it's much more feasible for an animal like a slugcat to be able to ascend a height of ~2km in a couple of days than to climb up an entire mountain. But again, this is pure speculation.

I made a ton of assumptions and rounded a bunch of numbers, so I could be completely wrong. There's probably other ways you could try to estimate an iterator's height that I haven't explored here. Let me know what you think; I love hearing about other people's ideas and theories.

Thank you for reading!

#delta’s wild lore speculation corner #rain world #rain world iterator #rw iterator #rain world theory #iterators

[lizslibrary]

Facade

Summary: Bucky x Reader fic where Reader is sick but decides to go on a mission anyway.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, please comment or critique it; I am always open to suggestions. I also struggled on finding a good ending, so I just decided to leave the rest of the story up to the imagination of the reader. 🥰

Warnings: assassin!reader, Sickness; flu, overexertion, guns, fighting, fainting, Slowburn (Picks up in the end,) angst, fluff, guilt, angry Bucky

Word count: 2,007

---------------------

I lean my back against the side of the jet, trying to appear as normal as possible. We were going on a HYDRA intel mission and I was sick. I knew going on this mission was a bad decision, but I couldn’t let my team down.

 As I took a deep breath, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me; I didn’t even have to look over to know it was Bucky. He stared at me with his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted slightly backward. I could tell he knew something was wrong, but I didn’t bother meeting his gaze.

A few minutes later, the plane landed in a remote location, and slowly, the back door dropped with a soft hiss. I unstrapped my seatbelt and hoisted my gun over my shoulder walking down the ramp and into a thick layer of snow. The cold air felt nice against my flushed cheeks, and I sighed as I watched the rest of the team trail out of the jet.

Steve stood confidently as he began giving orders, “Sam and Natasha, patrol the outside; make notes of everyone entering and exiting the compound.” “y/n, Bucky and I will take the inside, working on containing and evacuating evidence that may be crucial to Hydra’s destruction.” Steve stood silent for a moment. “Does everyone understand?” 

Everyone nodded and stood next to their partners. I notice Bucky watching me from behind Steve. I turned my head away from him so I wouldn’t give myself away. I knew that if he found out I was sick, he would stop the mission and make us turn around.

“The snow is thick, walk slow and conserve energy…we have the whole day ahead of us,” Steve says, beginning to walk forward.

Everyone trudges behind Steve in silence, our footsteps making quiet crunching sounds through the snow. I follow closely behind Steve, while Bucky trails closely behind me. I make sure to place my feet in Steve's already deep footprints, the last thing I wanted was to be drained of my energy before we'd even reach the compound.

I look up at the dark gray sky; we must be high up in the mountains, looking down on what seems like endless miles of nothingness.  It wasn't surprising that HYDRA would be located here, being a rather isolated organization.

A little while later I began to make out the rectangular shape of the compound through the dense snow that was falling from the sky. My hands were getting numb from holding onto the straps on my gun holster and my legs ached from walking through the snow. Steve looked over at me, I saw concern but I just gave him a reassuring nod and pushed forward.

As we got closer, I noticed that the base was a massive, grey complex. The building was made of concrete and had no windows, just little square holes that littered the walls...it reminded me of a prison.

Steve came to a stop and crouched behind a concrete barrier, he motioned for us to do the same. The team huddled beside Steve and watched the camp, it was only a few yards away allowing us to see movement from behind the large, barbed fence.

"Send Redwing out, we need to see the safest route for entry," Steve ordered. Sam was quick to oblige, sending the drone into the snowfall.

It hovered above the entrance to the complex, giving us an accurate view of how many guards there were. There were three men posted around the entrance, all wearing black helmets. One of them remained stationed by the gate while the other two patrolled around the gate.

Sam watched the feed from the drone, scanning the screen for any more guards, "Seems like there are only three near the entrance...if you can take them out you have a clear path to a set of double doors." Sam said looking at Steve out of the corner of his eye "The problem is...how are you gonna get in?"

"Tony said that there should be a keypad on the outside, luckily for us he managed to find the code," Steve said with a small grin on his face, I could hear a small chuckle come from Bucky.

Natasha shook her head "I wouldn't expect anything less from that man."

"Sam, keep a watch on Redwing and head to the left side of the building. Natasha, you take right." Steve says "Bucky y/n, follow me...be aware of your surroundings."

As soon as the plan is said, we jump into action. Steve begins creeping towards the front of the complex, with the sound of our footsteps ringing in the snow-covered ground, while Bucky and I cover him. Steve slams his shield into the neck of one of the guards while I wrestle another to the ground and knock him unconscious. My head is spinning as I stand up but I help Bucky take care of the last guy.

With the first threat taken care of, we hurry over to where Steve is standing, "This way," Steve points at a door on the side of the building. We follow closely behind him and watch his back as he types in the code on the keypad.

  He grabs the handle and turns it.  The door creaks open slowly, revealing a very dimly lit hallway. Steve leads the way down the hall.  The smell of damp stone fills the air, with the faint scent of blood and gunpowder lingering in the air.  We follow silently behind Steve until we get to the end of the hallway, where it opens up into two different hallways.

“I’ll take the right side, y/n Bucky go left,” Steve says

Bucky and I walk down the left hallway and I can feel my palms getting sweaty with each step. Something felt wrong, where was everyone? Why were there no HYDRA agents? I glance over at Bucky and see that he has a crease in his eyebrows, I could tell he was wondering the same thing. I grip my gun closer to my chest, it was eerily quiet and something felt off…very off. 

As we near the end of the hallway we enter a large room. It was filled with old dusty computers and lots of filing cabinets. I approach one of the computers and take out the hard drive making sure to put it in my pocket in hopes that it will be important intell. I watch Bucky enter a side room and suddenly the lights turn off and I jolt when I hear the loud slam of a door shutting.

It’s pitch black and I can hear footsteps circling me in the room “Y/N!? Y/N!” Bucky is pounding his fist on the other side of the door. 

I feel disoriented and dizzy as I try and move around the room “Bucky!? Where-?” I am cut off by a gloved hand covering my mouth; I scream and slam my elbow into the person behind me.

My breathing becomes more labored as I try and fight off the people attacking me. I feel myself on the verge of passing out.

 I grab my knife out of my pocket and slam it blindly into someone's torso. I lose my balance and I fall backward, causing my head to slam against the corner of the table. I let out a yell of pain and felt a warm liquid running down my neck.

I scramble back into a wall and feel someone else's hands on me, I try and fight back but my movements are disoriented; I am helpless. 

As soon as I feel all hope is lost, the door bursts open filling the room with light. Before I know what’s happening gunshots ring out and silence fills the room. My vision is swimming and I see a familiar, blurry silhouette approaching me; guilt fills my stomach.

“M-..sorry Bucky…” I slur as fight from blacking out.

Bucky scoops me up in his arms, and before I know it he is sprinting out of the compound and into the snow. My body is limp in his arms and I can hear him murmuring incoherent prayers as he runs.

Soon, we reach the jet, and he quickly puts me on the medical table. Everything around me is blurry and I don’t know what is happening.

I am so tired. Maybe I should sleep. Bucky wouldn’t be mad if I just slept for a minute…

--------------------------------------------------

My mind is pulled into the dark, tempting world of sleep.

A bright light fills my vision as I wake up. I blink a couple of times in an attempt to get my eyes to adjust to the light. What happened? Where am I? Several thoughts plagued my mind all at once and my body flings itself into an upright position.

Bucky stands up as soon as he sees me awake "Hey, hey! You're okay, you are safe.." Bucky says, gently trying to get me to lay back down.

The memories of last night flood my mind and I feel an intense wave of guilt in the pit of my stomach. I take a small glance at Bucky and notice the relief in his eyes quickly turn to that of hurt, maybe even anger. The look in his eyes pained me to see, I knew he felt upset about my actions.

"Bucky...I-"

"Why?" he says suddenly, staring me straight in my eyes.

"I'm sorry..."

Bucky closes his eyes in an attempt to calm himself "Sorry doesn't cut it." He says sharply "You almost died y/n."

I look away from him and shake my head "I know...but if I hadn't gone someone could have gotten hurt."

I watch anger form in his expression "Liz." His serious tone forces me to look at him "Are you not listening to me? You almost died!" His tone gets louder as he talks, "When I brought you back on the jet you were burning up and sweating...did you know that your fever almost reached 103."

Bucky takes a step backward and faces the wall, he rakes his fingers through his hair. "Do you understand that had I not been there and broken through a metal wall, you would be dead." He turns to face me again "Do you not understand that if you had died in that room; I would have blamed myself?" He looked me in the eyes "Do you not understand that if you died, I would have nothing else to live for?"

"Better me dead than you," I say quietly.

Bucky clenches his fist and inhales a sharp breath "Never, and I mean never, say that shit to me ever again." He grabs my hands and stands silently. "y/n, you give me a reason to wake up in the morning; the feeling I get when I see your gorgeous, happy face in the morning makes me feel alive."

I stare at him speechlessly and he continues "I know this is a terrible place, and a terrible time but I have to tell you..." The look he gives me makes my body tingle "I love you. I love you too much to the point where it hurts...and when we were in that compound I watched as the life drained from your eyes, and I felt more scared in that moment than I have ever had in my entire life...because I knew that If you were to die, I would have nothing left to get me out of bed in the morning, I would have nothing left to get me home safe from missions, I would have no more life because without you; I have none."

Bucky's words make it feel like the world has stopped, like it's just me and him and nothing can stop us from being together. I stare at Bucky's beautiful eyes, and he stares at mine; they tell me that I am here, that I am alive, and that I'm next to the person I love and care about most in this world.

#bucky fluff #bucky barnes x reader #soft bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

The adventures of Eddie Munson, jerk

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge January 2024 edition

Prompt: hole, 404 words

Rated: T

Tags: modern AU; meet cute; HOH Steve Harrington; Eddie "foot in mouth" Munson; Eddie being a horny shit

Notes: based on this idea I posted a while ago. I'd link it, but alas, the tumblr search function sucks. I'll add it when I find it I guess. (Edit: found it!)

Ping.

Eddie's about to commit homicide in an airport terminal. Walk over to that asshole with the laptop and throttle him with the cord. Bury him in a shallow hole, chuck his beeping hell machine right-

Okay, breathe. 

He's overreacting. The guy's an inconsiderate jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to be murdered. Eddie's just a bit on edge ‘cause he got up at ass o'clock and now his flight is delayed and his neck is hurting from the plastic chairs and his phone is dying and- 

Ping.

Okay, that's it. 

Eddie stomps over, propelled by rage and too many energy drinks.

“Hey, asshole!”

Laptop jerk just continues typing. So he thinks he can ignore him, huh? Eddie reaches him just as the laptop dings again, grabs him by the shoulder. 

“Hey, dickhead, I'm talking to you.” 

Laptop jerk flinches so hard he nearly sends his device flying, head whipping up and- 

-shit, he's cute. Big, hazel eyes full of shocked confusion under a swoop of chestnut hair. Perfect, pouty lips parted in surprise. Eddie has a sudden impulse to wrap a hand around the curve of that throat, drop his voice, tell him to say sorry like a good boy. 

Which would be … wildly inappropriate. 

“Listen,” he says instead. “Your beeping is annoying the living hell outta me, so-” 

Something is pressed into his hand. Something rectangular and plasticy, like a business card.

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, lifts it so that he can read what it says. 

Hi, I'm Steve. I'm hard of hearing. 

Wait, what?

Eddie's eyes flit back to laptop jerk's face. He's smiling, but there's a distinct undercurrent of confusion and concern. Like he doesn’t know why Eddie's so angry, which is true of course, because he can't fucking hear, has no idea what he did wrong and fuuuuck, who's the jerk now? 

That shallow hole still sounds tempting, just for entirely different reasons. 

“Erm, it's just …” he starts, more slowly now, those pretty eyes following the movement of his lips. “I've been wondering if maybe …” 

Steve tilts his head. 

"... you'd wanna have coffee? My flight's delayed and-” 

If the curl of Steve's mouth is anything to go by, he knows exactly that this isn't what he wanted to say. 

He nods anyway. 

By the time Eddie’s flight lifts off, his phone is dead, but there's a sticky note with a number tucked into his pocket.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #hoh steve harrington #hype's microfics

[tomiyeee]

donnie had. SO. much concept art lol. i really enjoyed the whole design process though. his base design is very difficult to work with because of the battleshell, but it gave me a lot of chances to get creative and i'm happy with the results :)

(also as a disclaimer so i don't get asked about this: i don't have motivation to finish raph or the wish art for donnie, so i'm just posting what i've got)

i didn't annotate these as much since there'd be a lot to write, but i'll write out some of my thought processes and go into some detail about his final design below the cut if you're interested! (it's long. i'm talkative 😔)

1st row - first iteration; much more literal 1:1 translation of his design into a fantasy setting. very steampunk-y. ended up completely scrapping it because, simply put, he looked more like an npc than a playable character. obviously, several features did still carry over throughout the design process :3 also wanted to imagine his attack pattern cuz i thought it'd be fun to incorporate his spider arms.

this was actually the first design of any of them i'd come up with! i've definitely learned a lot about genshin's character design style since then and i think it shows 😂

2nd row - playing around with the idea of a floating battleshell (rather than a backpack-like one in the the show & first version), inspired by nahida's cape. also hard light constructs/attachments. was leaning too into the sci-fi and rectangular motifs with the design, but i liked the idea.

3rd/4rth rows - concepts for his final outfit and shell designs (the colored/more-detailed pics are the more finalized ones). took a lot of inspiration from sumeru this time around. it's a lot sharper, shinier, and less rectangular than his og aesthetic, but i think it's more in-line with genshin's design philosophies.

5th row - not entirely sure why i went through all the trouble of making a 3d model for this. i mostly just thought it'd be fun and good for reference. i was right, but i don't know what to do with it now lol. can't be bothered to be a perfectionist about it though, so don't look too closely at it 😭

6th row - incomplete thumbnails of his burst/wish art. not super sold on that "wing" design in particular, but i do like the idea of his shell splitting and deploying hard light weapons/rocket launchers/etc sort of like in canon.

battleshell/misc notes - i'm thinking his battleshell is controlled using the pink sensor on the back of his coat, possibly in combination with his headset. it floats behind him by default and is sturdy enough to protect his back, but he can also freely fly it around like a drone if he wants. the holes on the side are mainly for the spider arms and the banners(?) and handles(?) with the blue/pink gradient are made of hard light and only appear when the shell is in use.

i imagine like in the series, his tech here isn't necessarily very reliant on his vision/powers; much of it he likely made himself long before he received a vision and he just uses his vision to enhance it.

his burst is a barrage of missiles from his shell that lock onto an enemy and deal a large burst of electro damage in an AOE. not sure if i want his skill to be a deployable or some sort of electro-infusion/boost 🤔 maybe something that involves deploying his shell to boost his damage while leaving him vulnerable, like a glass canon? though i'm not sure he'd be that sort of risk-taker... 😅 dunno! his signature weapon would totally be his tech bo though.

that's about all i can think of. thanks for reading!

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt au #rise genshin au #rottmnt art #my art #mangastudio #3d #art #process

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Revealing Clothing

Summary: Having all of 141 over for Simon’s birthday isn’t the problem, it’s what you got him. 

A/N: Based on the old beer poster trend on tik tok.

Word Count: 1.2k (Barely Edited)

It was only supposed to be a gag gift. Honestly, you forgot about it right after getting it framed and printed. It was stuffed in the back of your closet for so long that you had to wipe away dust from the wrapping paper. 

You were scrolling mindlessly on social media while Simon was away on the job, and the video had popped up. At first, you only giggled at the idea and continued on. But as the day went on, it kept popping up in your mind. It really was just a spontaneous idea, something you and Simon would laugh at and then forget about after you showed him. 

It just so happened to be a few months before Simon’s birthday, and you told yourself you would randomly give it to him as you both sipped on some drinks with a movie playing in the living room. But, since you totally forgot about it, you had decided to invite Simon’s coworkers over to celebrate with you. Simon, of course, had grunted when you told him to invite them over. But after a few pleading looks (and telling him he wouldn’t be able to touch you at all for a week), he relented and agreed. 

They all sat around in the den, reminiscing over old stories while a game played low on the TV. Food was free for grabs in the kitchen for the boys to get up and grab plates of while they sipped on beers and glasses of hard liquor. Gifts were placed on the coffee table, waiting for the time when Simon would need to open them. Honestly, everything was going fine. The boys were in high spirits despite finishing a gruesome mission less than a week ago, and Simon was more relaxed than he would ever admit. 

But then, after Simon sat awkwardly through an out of tune rendition of happy birthday and blowing out candles, it was time for gifts. You had kissed his cheek and carried the rest of the uneaten cake back to the fridge for storing, leaving the boys to their whoops of excitement every time Simon opened a gift. By the time you got back, Simon was on to the last gift. You sat next to him on the sofa and tried not to laugh when Simon unwrapped a pair of socks with Soap’s face printed over the entirety of it. 

As Simon grumbled about them through the boys’ laughter, Price turned to you with a soft smile. “How about you, kid? What did ya get Ghost? Didn’t see a gift from ‘ya,”

That instantly caught the other boys’ attention, the boys started asking the same question while Simon stared at you silently. Your brows were furrowed in confusion about why your gift wasn’t with the rest when the memory of it hit you. Your face instantly went a deep red and you picked up Simon’s glass to take a nervous sip. 

“Oh, um.. It’s in the room but, y’know… it’s fine really. I can just get it later.” You mumbled into the glass, not meeting their eyes.

All the boys groaned in protest, complaining how unfair it is that all they got to see was ugly Soap socks. You could only chuckle nervously while Simon leaned slightly towards you, “It’s okay, lovie. Go get it.” 

The soft look in his eyes made you a goner. You gulped nervously and got up, walking to you and Simon’s shared bedroom before opening the closet. You pulled out the rectangular gift and walked back to the group. They instantly shouted their excitement when they saw you with the gift in hand. 

You sat back to Simon, a shy smile on your face as you handed it to him with a small Happy Birthday, Si. With the gift covering both of you due to the sheer size, he mumbled back a thanks with a small kiss to your cheek. He opened it slowly, brows furrowing as he got more and more confused as he revealed it. When he ripped enough of the wrapping paper off to get a clear image, he froze and tensed with a soft curse. Fuck.

Through the hole in the wrapping, a picture of you in a skimpy (and impractical) military outfit was revealed. It was more of an army green bikini, fake weapon holsters wrapped around your thighs like garters. A cropped military jacket was draped over your shoulders and knee high black boots traveled up your legs. You looked like an overly sexualized video game character, standing in an open legged and confident pose in front of a fake desert background. Simon pushed a bit of the paper away from one of the sides, revealing a skull mask in your hand resting against your leg. Simon gulped as he focused on it. 

“Is it that bad L.T? Let us have a peak!” Gaz spoke up, trying to lean closer toward Ghost to take a look at what he was staring so intensely at.

Simon instantly growled at him, pushing the gift into his chest and away from any peering eyes. He turned his head to you, a glare on his face. Now he understands your hesitance to give him the gift in front of his friends. You gulped and mouthed out a sorry. He turned away from you again, pushing Gaz’s face away from him with a strangled, “No.”

The boys complained again, trying to convince their lieutenant to show them what you got him. He instantly shut it down, telling them to back off before going back to the bedroom to keep the picture away from them. When he left, everyone tried to get you to tell them what it was. You only shrugged and sipped sheepishly on Simon’s drink. 

Soon after, you were showing everyone out. The game was over and barely any food was left. The boys thanked you for inviting them over, clapping Simon’s back with the last of their birthday wishes before closing the door behind them. When the last of them left, Simon shut the door and turned around to face you. 

“Hi,” you whispered shyly, watching as he folded his arms and leaned back against the door.

“Hi,” was his gruff response back. 

Silence developed between the two, causing you to shift on your feet nervously. You were thinking about what else to say when Simon spoke up: “Who else?”

You blinked, surprised he was the first to speak and confused at his question, “Wha-”

“Who else saw that picture?” He clarified, pushing off the door and walking towards you.

You gulped at his closeness, watching nervously as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear gently. “Uh, my friend, you know the one who does photography during her free time, took the pictures and edited them. But I printed it at the self-printing center.”

Simon hummed in acknowledgement, lazily running his fingers up and down your neck and jaw. “Good.”

Another wave of silence stretched after that. You stood quietly as Simon continued lightly tracing the skin around your face before you spoke up again. “Did..did you, uh, like it?”

Simon chuckled lightly, bending down to place his face in the crook of your neck. You shiver as his warm breath and lips graze the sensitive skin of your throat. Simon’s hand runs down the side of you, until he grasps your hand. Ever so slowly, he drags your hand up to the front of his pants, holding it to the bulging fabric of his jeans.

“You could say that.”

The writing is BAD! I'm so sorry this is literally rushed and Simon is so OOC.

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

[spocks-kaathyra]

thoughts about the Cardassian writing system

I've thinking about the Cardassian script as shown on screen and in beta canon and such and like. Is it just me or would it be very difficult to write by hand?? Like.

I traced some of this image for a recent drawing I did and like. The varying line thicknesses?? The little rectangular holes?? It's not at all intuitive to write by hand. Even if you imagine, like, a different writing implement—I suppose a chisel-tip pen would work better—it still seems like it wasn't meant to be handwritten. Which has a few possible explanations.

Like, maybe it's just a fancy font for computers, and handwritten text looks a little different. Times New Roman isn't very easily written by hand either, right? Maybe the line thickness differences are just decorative, and it's totally possible to convey the same orthographic information with the two line thicknesses of a chisel-tip pen, or with no variation in line thickness at all.

A more interesting explanation, though, and the one I thought of first, is that this writing system was never designed to be handwritten. This is a writing system developed in Cardassia's digital age. Maybe the original Cardassian script didn’t digitize well, so they invented a new one specifically for digital use? Like, when they invented coding, they realized that their writing system didn’t work very well for that purpose. I know next to nothing about coding, but I cannot imagine doing it using Chinese characters. So maybe they came up with a new writing system that worked well for that purpose, and when computer use became widespread, they stuck with it. 

Or maybe the script was invented for political reasons! Maybe Cardassia was already fairly technologically advanced when the Cardassian Union was formed, and, to reinforce a cohesive national identity, they developed a new standardized national writing system. Like, y'know, the First Emperor of Qin standardizing hanzi when he unified China, or that Korean king inventing hangul. Except that at this point in Cardassian history, all official records were digital and typing was a lot more common than handwriting, so the new script was designed to be typed and not written. Of course, this reform would be slower to reach the more rural parts of Cardassia, and even in a technologically advanced society, there are people who don't have access to that technology. But I imagine the government would be big on infrastructure and education, and would make sure all good Cardassian citizens become literate. And old regional scripts would stop being taught in schools and be phased out of digital use and all the kids would grow up learning the digital script.

Which is good for the totalitarian government! Imagine you can only write digitally. On computers. That the government can monitor. If you, like, write a physical letter and send it to someone, then it's possible for the contents to stay totally private. But if you send an email, it can be very easily intercepted. Especially if the government is controlling which computers can be manufactured and sold, and what software is in widespread use, etc. 

AND. Historical documents are now only readable for scholars. Remember that Korean king that invented hangul? Before him, Korea used to use Chinese characters too. And don't get me wrong, hangul is a genius writing system! It fits the Korean language so much better than Chinese characters did! It increased literacy at incredible rates! But by switching writing systems, they broke that historical link. The average literate Chinese person can read texts that are thousands of years old. The average literate Korean person can't. They'd have to specifically study that field, learn a whole new writing system. So with the new generation of Cardassian youths unable to read historical texts, it's much easier for the government to revise history. The primary source documents are in a script that most people can't read. You just trust the translation they teach you in school. In ASIT it's literally a crucial plot point that the Cardassian government revised history! Wouldn't it make it soooo much easier for them if only very few people can actually read the historical accounts of what happened.

I guess I am thinking of this like Chinese characters. Like, all the different Chinese "dialects" being written with hanzi, even though otherwise they could barely be considered the same language. And even non-Sinitic languages that historically adopted hanzi, like Japanese and Korean and Vietnamese. Which worked because hanzi is a logography—it encodes meaning, not sound, so the same word in different languages can be written the same. It didn’t work well! Nowadays, Japanese has made significant modifications and Korean has invented a new writing system entirely and Vietnamese has adapted a different foreign writing system, because while hanzi could write their languages, it didn’t do a very good job at it. But the Cardassian government probably cares more about assimilation and national unity than making things easier for speakers of minority languages. So, Cardassia used to have different cultures with different languages, like the Hebitians, and maybe instead of the Union forcing everyone to start speaking the same language, they just made everyone use the same writing system. Though that does seem less likely than them enforcing a standard language like the Federation does. Maybe they enforce a standard language, and invent the new writing system to increase literacy for people who are newly learning it.

And I can imagine it being a kind of purely digital language for some people? Like if you’re living on a colonized planet lightyears away from Cardassia Prime and you never have to speak Cardassian, but your computer’s interface is in Cardassian and if you go online then everyone there uses Cardassian. Like people irl who participate in the anglophone internet but don’t really use English in person because they don’t live in an anglophone country. Except if English were a logographic writing system that you could use to write your own language. And you can’t handwrite it, if for whatever reason you wanted to. Almost a similar idea to a liturgical language? Like, it’s only used in specific contexts and not really in daily life. In daily life you’d still speak your own language, and maybe even handwrite it when needed. I think old writing systems would survive even closer to the imperial core (does it make sense to call it that?), though the government would discourage it. I imagine there’d be a revival movement after the Fire, not only because of the cultural shift away from the old totalitarian Cardassia, but because people realize the importance of having a written communication system that doesn’t rely on everyone having a padd and electricity and wifi.

#if I read over this again I will inevitably want to change and add things so I'm refraining from doing that. enjoy whatever this is #forgive my very crude recounting of chinese and korean history! I am neither a historian nor a linguist #but I will NOT apologize for talking abt china so much. that's my culture and I'm weird abt it bc of my family history #and it's my GOD GIVEN RIGHT to project what little I know abt it onto all my worldbuilding #also I've never actually read abt any of the various cardassian conlangs but I'm curious if this contradicts or coincides with any of them #I still want to make my own someday. starting college as a linguistics major (in 2 weeks!!) so presumably I will learn how to do that #narcissus's echoes #ds9 #asit #star trek #cardassians #cardassian meta #a stitch in time #hebitians

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup

for @greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“Are you awake?”

Until he heard that question, the answer to it would have been a resounding no.  However, he was awake now, so he pried his eyes open to squint at whoever had interrupted his sleep.  

“Maybe,” he mumbled into a fluffy pillow.  

“Excellent.  Then we can start the questionnaire.”

In his opinion, it was far too early for a questionnaire.  On the other hand, the creeping feeling that something wasn't quite right was creeping its way up his spine.  He levered himself out of his blanket cocoon and into a sitting position.  Then he retrieved his blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders.  He wanted to be cozy.  

“Questionnaire?” he asked.  

“Indeed.  It’s not long.”

“Um, okay.  What are you doing in, um…”  This… wasn’t his bedroom.  He was pretty sure this wasn’t his bedroom.  Or any place he’d seen before.  

He also didn’t think he’d seen the ghost before, which added an air of surrealism to the whole situation.  

“Who are you?” he asked, looking the ghost up and down.  He was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in purple, with a hooded cloak thrown around his shoulders.  There was a rectangular hole in his chest, and in the hole was a pendulum and clock face.

“That is, in fact, one of the questions I have to ask you.”  The ghost showed him the back of a clipboard and produced a pen from thin air.

“Um, that, um.”  He frowned.  “Who am I, or who are you?”

“Yes,” said the ghost.  “But let us start at the beginning.  Do you know who you are?”

“Well, yeah, sure, I’m… Um.  I’m.  I…”  It should have been an easy question.  It should have been a question he didn’t even have to think about, which is why he didn’t.  But he didn’t even have the echo of an answer.

“I will mark that down as a no.”

“Wait, wait,” he said, “what’s going on, who am I?”

“I have to go through the whole questionnaire before I answer your questions, I’m afraid.  Those are the rules.”

“I… okay?”

“Do you recognize me in any capacity?”

“Nope.  Am I supposed to?”

“Excellent.  Next question, do you know where you are?”

He shook his head.  “Somewhere in the Ghost Zone, I think.”

“Do you know what year it is?”

“Um.  Two thousand five?  Or, uh, six?”  He shrugged.  Something like that.  It was a little blurry.  

“How old are you?”

“Teenage?”

“Can you describe yourself?”

“Um…  Forgetful?”

“Physically,” clarified the ghost.

He looked down.  He was covered in blankets and therefore unable to see so much as an inch of skin.  He crossed his eyes to look at his nose.  “White,” he said, finally.  “Probably.  And a guy.  Is that a physical thing?”

The ghost made a note on the clipboard.  “And how would you describe your parents?  Your family?”

“Uh.  They probably… exist.”

“Very good.  Favorite band?”

“Dumpty Humpty.  Why do I know that and not my name?”

“Please hold your questions until the end.  Favorite food?”

“Milkshake.  Kiwi fudge.  That’s weird.  That’s weird, isn’t it?”

“No weirder than a cheese puff and bacon milkshake.”

“Huh.  Is it weird that I want to try that now?”

“Somewhat, but not horribly so.”

He gazed at the ghost silently for several long seconds.  The ghost gazed back.  This was already an awkward situation, but it was getting worse by the second.  

“So… what’s the next question?”

“That was the last question. As you can doubtlessly tell, I am now answering your questions.”

He probably should have noticed that, actually.  He leaned forward, eager.  “Great, so, uh, what’s going on?  Why don’t I remember anything?”

“Your memory was removed in preparation for legal proceedings.”  Was it just him, or did the ghost seem… displeased about that?

“Uh… that seems sort of backwards, doesn’t it?  If I’m supposed to testify or defend myself, shouldn’t I at least remember what it is I’m doing?”

“That would be true if you were testifying or defending yourself.”

“Okay…  So…  What am I doing?”

“You are the subject of an extensive custody dispute.”

“And… that means I need to get my memory erased why?”

“We ghosts have a different method of settling custody disputes.  We prefer it if the child in question decides who to be with.”

“I kind of feel as if that’d also be easier with my memories.”

“On the contrary, memories can often lead to people choosing to stay in unpleasant situations.  For example, memories might create a sense of debt, sentiment, or honor that would prevent an objective decision based on current reality.”  The ghost said this as if he was reciting the phrase from rote memory.  

“That seems… wrong, somehow.  Like, there’s a missed assumption or something.”

“Be that as it may be, it is how we do things.”

“‘We’ being ghosts.”

“Correct.”

“Am I a ghost?”  This felt like another of those things he should just know, but, as before, he just didn't. 

“An unusual kind, but yes.”

“I'm dead?”  

“You died, yes.  Whether or not ghosts count as dead is a matter of scholarly debate.”

Well.  Okay, then.  He didn’t know what to say to that.  He sort of thought being dead would have more impact, but maybe it was hard to mourn for a life he didn't remember.  Or maybe he'd been dead for long enough that he'd already processed all the implications, and that had stuck around subconsciously.  Like the name of his favorite band.  

That was still weird.  

“So… What happens now?  Do you lead me out into the courtroom, see who I run to?  Do some kind of genetic test?  What are the rules here?”

“On the contrary, we have taken measures to keep your biological family from having an unfair advantage based on resemblance.  No.  What will happen is that, as a trial, you will spend a few days with each group that put themselves forward as potential guardians.  They have acquired housing appropriate for a young ghost, and have been… reviewed… to prevent abuses or other troubles.  You may leave their temporary guardianship whenever you choose.  However, once you leave, you will not be able to return to them until and unless you choose them at the end of these trials.  Between the potential guardians, you will stay here with me.”

There were so many troubling things in that explanation that he didn’t even know where to start.  

“So… the courtroom thing, but drawn out.”

“I suppose so, if you choose to look at it that way.”

“Right.  So, um.  What’s my name?”

“It’s Daniel.”

“Great.  Okay.  Cool.”  Daniel rubbed his eyes.  Despite all the heart-attack inducing things he was learning about today, he was still half-asleep.  Maybe it was a memory-wipe side-effect.  “You know, this is kind of messed up.  Some kind of weird reverse fairy tale kind of thing.  Like that story where someone has to pick the right girl when she’s been turned into a flower and there are two other flowers.  Why do I know that?”

“Unfortunately, I am not allowed to give you that information.  I am here to tell you the rules and make sure you are… able to do this.”

“To make sure you guys didn’t nuke my brain, you mean?”

“To some degree, yes.  But this is also frequently rather emotional, at least that is my understanding.  You are handling it remarkably well.”

“Oh, I’m just delaying my breakdown until after I see what I look like.  Better to have some idea of what my body is capable of in terms of punching walls and all that.”

“Wise,” said the ghost, with a small smile.  “There is a bathroom just through that door if you wish to examine yourself physically.”

“I’ll do that, in a bit.  But, first, um.  You keep saying we and us.  Who is that?  Who’s doing this?  I mean, ghosts, sure, but more specifically?”

“The legal system of the Ghost Zone.”

“Which is… Who?  Exactly?  The Observants?”

“You remember that.  Interesting.  But, yes, they are, for better or worse.”

“And you?  What's your position?”

“I am merely a neutral monitor selected by the Observants.”

“Monitor, huh?”

“I feel as though it would be misleading of me to call myself an observer under these circumstances.”

Daniel nodded.  “I can understand that.  I guess.  Is that, um, your usual job?  Taking care of kids like this?”

“I’m afraid not.  I work for the Observants in another capacity.”

“What capacity?”

“That would be one of the things I am not permitted to tell you.”

“Okay, and what’s up with that?  Why can’t you tell me things?”

“I am not allowed to give you information regarding your own past, including contextual information.”

Daniel frowned at the ghost.  “That sort of implies that I knew you, though, doesn’t it?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“Cool,” said Daniel.  “That’s helpful.  You’re not in the running for my… whatever I should call this.  My guardianship?”

The ghost nodded.  “That is an acceptable term, but I must remind you that I am a neutral monitor.”

“Sure.  Right.”  There were other questions he could ask, other questions he should ask, but his brain felt fried.  Did he have a brain, being a ghost and all?  Or was he just, like… goo?

Yeah, no, he wasn’t going to ask that.  He was going to go do something more… concrete.  Bathroom time.  He was sure it would be just as harrowing, especially with the implication that his appearance had been changed somehow, but he could be brave.

He shuffled to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over.  He frowned at the cold floor and decided to take the blankets with him.  Then, he realized one of his questions had gone unanswered.

“Hey, um.  What’s your name? You never did say.”

“You can call me Clockwork.  And when you are done in the bathroom, I have breakfast waiting downstairs.”

Daniel heaved himself up and went to the bathroom, looking over his shoulder at Clockwork as he went.  

This was just… really weird.  Should he try to escape?  Like, even if Clockwork was telling the truth about everything, this wasn’t exactly what he would call a good situation.  But if this was the lie, then what was the truth?  The truth was always worse, when people were lying like that.

… Not that Daniel could come up with any specific examples of that.  It was more of a feeling.  

Soft lights came on in the bathroom as he stepped in.  It was… a bathroom.  He was sure he’d been in other bathrooms before.  This one had a purple-on-lavender color scheme and a large bathtub.  The fixtures were brass.  In other words, it resembled Clockwork to a surprisingly high degree.  Daniel wondered if he lived here normally, or if he’d just been the one to decorate.  Or if someone with a sense of irony had decorated it for him.  

Whichever.  Maybe he’d ask Clockwork about it and see if he answered.  It was harmless enough, compared to some of the questions he could ask.  

There was also a mirror.  He stared at it.  

His skin was a sort of tan pink, awash with freckles.  His hair was white.  His eyes were glowing and green.  His ears were long and pointed, curving up around the sides of his face to sit on the top of his head.  The blankets were also purple, funnily enough.  Huh.  

He leaned closer, squinting.  What kind of ears were those, anyway?  He had to assume he didn’t have them when he was alive and human.  Cat?  Dog?  Fox?  It wasn’t an automatic ghost thing, either, since Clockwork didn’t seem to have them, although that hood could likely hide a lot.  

If he had animal ears, did he have anything else?  Maybe some cool slit pupils?  He leaned even closer, over the counter.  Maybe?  They might be slitted?  He alternately blinked and widened his eyes, trying to make his pupils change sizes.  

Yes!  They were slitted!  Cool!

Which put better odds on this being a fox or cat thing than a dog thing.  Dogs had round pupils.  

Next question: did he have a tail?

He swung the blankets off his shoulders and folded them up so he could set them on the counter.  He was, surprise surprise, wearing purple pajamas.  But he also had a large, fluffy tail.  He petted it.  It was very fluffy.  

Excellent.  He’d always wanted a tail.  Well, he’d wanted one for the few minutes he’d been aware there was a possibility he could have one.  Very nice.  Good feeling.  Soft.  

It also seemed very unfamiliar.

Precautions.  

Right.  

The smile slid off his face.  Well.  On reflection, he didn’t think Clockwork was lying to him, but he really needed to know more about him to make a real determination.  Just like he needed to make a determination about his potential ‘guardians.’  

This was giving him real adoption scam vibes.  Which was weird, because he’d’ve thought that’d be one of the memories they’d erase if they wanted to do that.  Maybe memory erasure was just… really inexact.  That sounded like a possibility.  Maybe there was some other weird scam going on.  

Only one way to find out.  He washed up, then left the bathroom and navigated towards the stairs.  

The stairs were also purple.  

Daniel was definitely leaning towards this place being decorated by someone with a weird sense of humor.  A non-Clockwork someone.  There weren’t nearly enough clocks for this place to have been designed by someone named Clockwork.  You had to be really into clocks to name yourself Clockwork.  

“Welcome,” said Clockwork, smiling at Daniel from the center of the purple kitchen.  “There are pancakes.”  He gestured to the table.  “And the file next to them has the names of your potential guardians.  Why don’t you read through them and see who you might like to stay with first.”

“You want me gone so soon?” asked Daniel, sliding into his seat.  

“You are welcome to stay here for as long as you want, but then you won’t get your memories back.”

“I can get my memories back?” asked Daniel, looking up sharply.  

“Yes, they will be returned after you make your choice,” said Clockwork.  He turned back to the stove.  “Hashbrowns?  Eggs?  Sausage?”

“Um,” said Daniel, who was gradually realizing how hungry he was.  “All of them?”

“Of course.”

Daniel turned his attention back to the file folder, then flipped it open.  Time to see who he was being… adopted by?  Was that the right term here?  

The first page had seven groups of names, bullet pointed.  It was also done in calligraphy, which was certainly a contrast to the plain manila folder it was stored in.  

“Anyone catch your eye?” asked Clockwork, setting down a plate with eggs and sausage on it.  

“Does it matter which order I do this in?”

“Not at all.”

“So I could start at the end.”

“Indeed.”

“Great,” said Daniel.  “Then let’s start there.  After breakfast.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #fic

[svgvru]

꒰ ✮ 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 '𝟮𝟯 — 𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞 𝗧𝗪𝗢!

𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗖𝗧! vanilla + "fuck, this pussy was made for me" ꒰ afab!geto/kenjaku x top m!reader ꒱: oral ꒰ suguru!receiving ꒱, doggy, public sex, manipulation, slight manhandling, breeding, creampie, possessive behavior from the reader, "marking/claiming," angst 'n smut. the words and phrases change for a reason! we're gonna pretend the curses aren't there and gojo's not...gojo. btw they're fucking on those rectangular concrete thingys that hold up buildings.

𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟯𝟭𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴—𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗔𝗧 𝟴:𝟯𝟬, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗬𝗔!

"i— i don't think we are good together." since that day, suguru's words echo in your head. it was a lie of course, suguru would never say that—and his future actions prove otherwise. however, the fact that those particular words left his lips, the love of your life—it burned a hole in your heart that could never be healed.

you, satoru, and suguru. it was always—you, suguru, satoru, and then shoko. you'd swear the other two would forget she existed, but regardless— you were all prodigies of your year. three special grades and a cursed technique unlike any other. the four of you combined were an unstoppable team, but trios never work— why would a squad work? you and suguru were dating, he had stolen a piece of your heart and held it close to his chest. you truly believe it was love. and during that time, "the strongest trio" was a real thing. the teamwork and results the three of you produced made an impression on the jujutsu higher-ups. you were never without eachother, and it was fine!

never had you been so happy and satisfied like when you were with suguru. and then an incident occured when you were, for the first time, pulled away from the two. toji fushiguro and the star plasma vessel. it should've been a simple mission, but satoru and suguru were playing checkers—fushiguro was playing chess.

it was no longer alright. it was the two of them facing a deathly experience and failing—for the first time. suguru had become distant, and satoru had become obsessed with eliminating weakness as if he hadn't just truly become the strongest. "i don't think you're good enough for me." it was as if the world shattered, the world along with that beautiful diamond ring you had been waiting to put on his finger. he took a piece of your heart, one of which was like glass, and he threw at the wall with a force you couldn't bare.

when shoko called you, informing you and gojo where suguru was—your heart thumped in hope. however, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your duo collapsing and the cruel sound of his voice repeating: "you will never be enough for me"— replaying over and over in your broken mind. you couldn't bring yourself to go see him. your mind wouldn't allow your feet to move, to chase after him and beg. it was pathetic, really. you wished more than anything for his return, but you couldn't even chase after him? you sat slumped against your wall, fingers mindelssly rubbing and twisting that familar diamond ring. "suguru," you whisper into the air, as if hoping your call would manifest him to you. as if this were a dream and he'd wake you up with a kiss and soft smile.

but that wasn't reality, it was just a fantasy. so you wonder why you're in a bed with him? why did you destory that hate for him, only to hold him and fuck him in that hotel bed. why— why did you accept him back into your heart, knowing he shattered it? those thoughts could never beat your raw desire for him, your need to make love to him because he— is your soulmate. his existence is etched into your soul— and it cannot be removed by simple and conventional means.

and it only caused you more pain as you watched him slide down that brick wall. you had arrived to late to jujutsu high. satoru's students were beaten bloody, but yuuta okkotsu came in the clutch...by beginning the end of "the worst cursed user" suguru geto. those years of love were all for nothing as you decided to "curse him in the end," sparing satoru's feelings at the cost of your own.

at the result of your own hands, your own words and actions you had ended suffering, only causing more for yourself. but regardless, no more deaths would be caused that specific day. and the spirits of one-hundred and thirteen people (or way more) had been avenged. "the worst curse user" was gone, but suguru geto still resided in your heart with the wish that his soul was at peace. hoping that haibara would finally have familiar company after such a long time. however, nothing you wish comes to fruition. his could likely but resting...but— the soul cannot truly rest until its body has truly rested. learning that was likely the worst experience of your life. 𝗢𝗡 𝗢𝗖𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 𝟯𝟭𝗦𝗧 𝗢𝗙 𝟮𝟬𝟭𝟴—𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗔𝗧 𝟴:𝟯𝟬, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗕𝗨𝗬𝗔!

satoru gojo had completed a feat you were proud of him for. yes—you were a bit dizzy, maybe out of it from his domain, but you were proud. he truly was the strongest, and you were no doubt a close second. but being to strongest—having power, is not enough.

"yo!" he calls out your name first. although, it doesn't sound as sweet. its familiar, but it's not warm. the voice of suguru geto would always make you feel as if you were wrapped in a fluffy blanket. the sound of your name coming from his lips was magical. but there was no magic, and there was no love in it. "h-huh?" you stopped and stared at him, you wish you could will your body to move but you couldn't. the man you killed with your bare hands, the love of your live, stood before you in the flesh. "S-SUGURU!" it hurt to see his body have such a reaction to your voice. to see his hand twitch and attack is own neck, maybe the soul and body truly exist in tandem. you were so out of it. you'd barely realized globs of a red, flesh looking substance was binding satoru. and as if in instinct you'd jump to protect him, as if he were suguru.

"ah, ah, ah!" from the black pit in the ground of the subway station arose a curse to stop you. you quickly exorcise the curse and he calls your name again. except its familiar this time. its warm— and you can feel a hint the magical tingle you get. someone must be screwing with you! this can't be real, he can't be real.

the 'stops's from satoru start to sound muffled as "suguru" walks towards you. stop? stop what? you think to yourself, accepting the touch of him. his hand cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. this can't be real—but he feels so warm. your soul is telling you it isn't him, that the man before you isn't suguru, but your head is spinning and you can't seem to focus properly. and suddenly his lips are against yours. you can hear satoru yelling, you certainly can—but you're not listening to what he's saying. suguru's lips are soft as they move again yours, tasting his tongue again was like a glimpse of heaven. you didn't process the words: "prison gate, close" from "suguru." not until gojo was suddenly gone in your peripheral and there was just a floating box.

the dark red box floated to suguru's outstretched hand, turning as grey as stone when it touches his palm. "wha—" you feel suguru's lips against yours again. "don't pay attention to that, just me," he whispers. it was a shame how quickly you gave into him. suguru chuckles when you become more forceful with the kiss, the box falls from his fingertips as he wraps his arms around your neck.

perhaps the kiss was just to distract you, perhaps he was going to far in his plan. but it seems that this body longs for you a lot more that kenjaku had thought. or perhaps kenjaku himself was longing for something he hadn't experienced in quite a while. but regardless of that, he felt himself becoming wet— turned on from simply a kiss. your relationship with suguru geto was certainly something! he thought to himself as he allowed you to push him against a concrete column of the subway, used for foundation. it seems mahito was correct when he said you could mix business with pleasure.

non-sorcerers stand scattered around the station, mindless from satoru's domain. they probably couldn't hear a thing even if they wanted to. kenjaku allowed you to touch him like that, to desprately pull off his clothes. he even laughed at how furiously you ripped off the gojogesa, perhaps a bit angry possesive that he was wearing something carrying gojo's name. even in suguru's memories, you were quite possessive of him, needing to keep a hand on him no matter where the two of you were. fuck—he was getting ridiculously turned on by your actions! his hands desprately grip your shoulders, his eyes fluttering as your kisses trail from his lips to his neck.

no, this isn't him. just like a few minutes ago, for the first time in centuries a body has acted on it's own. just how much did suguru love you? it was a stupid question, he thought seconds later. kenjaku knows how much suguru loves you.

for all of those years, despite what he said to you—you came back. he's seen suguru's memories. he knows how much you made love to him, especially during those ten years of him being a fugitive. whether you'd fold him over or held him in your lap, your kisses—were suguru's weakness. a pleasured shiver racks his body as you kiss and kiss him, his clothes falling to the ground as you kiss further down. "ah...a-ah!" your lips wrap around one his perky nipples. your tongue swirls around the pink nub, sucking on it lightly. suguru's back arches, surprise filling his eyes. kenjaku is aware how sensitive suguru's body is, although this was a little surprising. his cheeks flush as you move to the other one.

moans pathetically leave his lips, legs wobbling from your actions. he feels as if he could cry just from this, suguru geto really was lucky to have you. you pull away and watch his chest rise and fall, "suguru's" eyes widened and tears pricking at the corner of his eyes.

"you look surprised," you kiss up and down his chest as you speak. "im sure you know how much me and suguru made love. i know him and his body more then he does himself." your voice is soft but there's a hint of anger in your eyes. some part of you hates this—but your heart thumps as you see him. you can't help but pick him, stripping him of the clothes on his lower body as you push him against the concrete foundation peice again. you glance down between his legs, slick painting his inner thighs. your kisses move down to his inner thighs licking your lips at his taste. bending down on the less than sanitary subway floor, your put your face between his legs, giving kitten licks to his clit.

your tongue swirls around his clit—dipping in between his folds for a true taste of him. your nose bumps his clit as you do, a gasp leaving kenjaku lips. your tongue slips inside of him and he involuntarily leans forward, putting one leg onto your shoulders. your hands cup his ass, keeping him this position.

this is a feeling kenjaku hasn't felt in a long time. specifically, the last time he was a woman. the feeling he had then—and the feeling he has now it similar, but it's different, more intense. and he knows why. his body—suguru's body, it feels so hot. he can't help but melt into your touch, fall in your arms and let you have your way. he can't tell if its muscle memory, or if it's suguru's soul interferring—but what's clear is this body loves you. the second he saw you, he felt something. the second he kissed you, he felt a pulse in his groin. suguru truly did belong to you—mind, body, and soul. the moans he was letting slip, higher octave and even whiny, that wasn't him. his body leaning into you, putting his leg on your shoulder, that wasn't him. and the way he humped your face with an eagerness, that surely wasn't him. kenjaku would never be so desperate. but it did feel fantastic.

"ah—fuck!" his eyes roll back, tongue lolled as he grips onto your hair. "ngh—! a-ah...mphf—fuck!" your erection strains in your uniform as he whines and moans. his eyelids flutter and his thighs tighten as he feels it. your mouth brings him to an orgasm as he's practically sitting on your face. you lap up his cum with your tongue, moaning into his cunt at the taste.

suguru kenjaku stumbles off your shoulder, hitting that same concrete column where his clothes rest below. before he could slide down and fall, he feels your hands on his hips, lifting him up as his shaky legs are unusuable. you flip him around and his chest and face are pressed to the concrete. he grabs the concrete column, at an attempt to ground himself before he feels your thick tip press against his pussy. he feels the tip push into him, a loud moan leaving lips. he's quite thankful for satoru's domain, or else the people hear would be getting quite the show. it was smart of him to send the curses away aswell, imagine what they'd think if they saw him— "ngh—AH! fuck— i...please! mphf!" he's panting as your cock slides in, kenjaku slaps his hand over his mouth, ashamed of his noises.

with no mercy you move once you've pushed into his cunt fully. the wet slaps of his pussy fill kenjaku's ears. oh how the memories are returning.

"fu—fuck!" the voice crack in his voice was pleasant as he tried to keep his moans quiet. he was so warm. his body rocks with your thrusts, feeling your fingers delicately knead his ass, rubbing the sore skin from the harsh smacks of your hips. his eyes cross and eyelashes fluttering as your balls mercilessly slap agaisnst his already swollen clit. kenjaku was enjoying this a bit too much. his hand couldn't help but fall— the curses and moans finally being set free. "good boy," he hears you coo. he'd be disgusted by it—maybe even hit you. but suguru's body isn't in tandem with what kenjaku may value. you feel the warmth around you tighten—your cock being swallowed by his pussy.

he couldn't help but arch his back, sliding his front just a bit lower for your cock to reach just a bit deeper. "aAH! ngh—" my, suguru was one lucky man. kenjaku is sure his cheek is red from the sliding, your rough treatment that made him rock helped none.

kenjaku is enjoying this too much. and believes he knows why. the memories of jin itadori were fresh on his mind. it wasn't too long ago that he experienced a woman's view of life— pregnancy, and the pleaures that could be given through the means of a vagina. it wasn't that long ago that he took cock into him, masquerading as a loving wife to conceive yuuji itadori. it wasn't that long ago that his eyes were rolled back and his head was pushed into the cushion as he was plowed into from behind. this wasn't new. it's almost as history repeated itself. his back bent and curved to take a man's cock deep inside of him. the pleasures women could perceive was a godly experience. as if his cursed and wretched soul were blessed to experience this.

up on the tips of his toes, his knees knock inward as you reach a particular spot within him. the spot that could get suguru cumming in seconds—and you spongey tip continued to plow directly into that particular spot. his eyes fluttered closed as he came with a cry on your cock. you slide your cock out quickly, cumming on the back of his thighs. the sound of your rough and pleaured panting aparent to his ears as you hold his bottom half up. you turn him around against the concrete column, panting as you speak. "one more— hah...one more time."

kenjaku couldn't help but reluctantly comply, the heat between his legs continued to grow—never had been so needy. "one more time," you pant into his ear as you hoist him up. a whine leaves his lips as you push one of his legs to his chest. suguru was always flexible, it was one of the things that made sex so enjoyable with him. you allow that leg to rest on your shoulder—holding the other one up with your hand to the back of his knee. it was such an interesting position, a breeding one had the two of you been on the floor, but kenjaku was sure he'd be given the chance to be fucked and filled again. perhaps to the point of cultivating another child?

a loud moan left his lips as you unexpectedly drop him on your cock. this entire time, you've used him as nothing more than a sex toy. a pussy to use to your satisfaction. did you truly love suguru? kenjaku wishes you would allow him his thoughts, but your cock was such an attention stealer! "fuck, this pussy was made for me," you hiss into the skin of his neck, rutting your hips against his.

pathetic girly whines and moans leave his suguru's lips. it was embarrassing how easily suguru's soul could slip in, how he could make his body do things kenjaku wouldn't even dream of doing. but it seems there was no choice at this point. two minds, body's, and souls were lost in the feeling of you. who knows was making the noise at that point. you felt so deep—how did suguru handle this all these years? kenjaku think to himself. your cock plunging over and over into his cunt was a pleasurable experience. your girth stretching him—length filling him to the brim. "i see why he loved this so much," kenjaku whisper aloud in the middle of you fucking him.

it seems you had ignored him, but he meant it. he understands why suguru was so cock addicted with you. he wonders what could possibly be going on in your head, wondering if your thinking through a pussy addiction.

and in one way you are—you're acting on a pussy addiction. an addiction reserved only for suguru. however, your mind was all over the place. your sure the other sorcerers are rushing, running around to get through the barriers. your sure they're getting hurt, but here you are—a special grade sorcerer—fucking the enemy. but the enemy felt so good! it was exhilarating to finally feel suguru once more. and if this was the last chance you would get to see him, you'd do it. you'd do in a heartbeat a thousand times. your cock plunging in and out of his messy pussy. wet and squelching noises fill your ears as he drips onto the floor—a white ring around the base of your cock.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. the words left your mouth like a prayer. his pussy felt so good! the only thought was cum and filling him up, your sure his mind was on it aswell. and it was. the thought of you breeding him seemed to be so pleasant. perhaps because it was suguru's body, but who wouldn't want your cum.

kenjaku felt the signs, and it seems you did too. a grunt leaves your lips, a whine leaving his as you both cum. his pussy wraps tightly around your cock, milking you for what your worth. a gasp leaves his lips when you slip out of his leaking cunt, more cum sputtering from your tip and now onto his face since you've dropped him on the floor. his naked body rested on the subway ground, your cum leaky pleasantly from his pussy—face decorated as well. it was bad. terrible—that you gave in. but this sight, the sight of your claim on suguru was enough to make up for it your head.

no matter what, suguru was the most important piece in your game of chess. it was unfortunate that the king—satoru gojo—was not.

#𝗔𝗖𝗧 ꒰ KENJAKU ꒱ #𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗡𝗢𝗪... is kenjaku using geto's body to his advantage once again. and taking backshots for a plan...again #𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗕𝗘𝗥 ꒰ 14 — '23 ꒱ #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader #jjk smut #kenjaku x reader #kenjaku x male reader #kenjaku smut #geto x reader #geto x male reader #geto smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x male reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto angst #jjk angst #x male reader #male reader #top male reader #top reader #dom male reader #dom reader #sub character #bottom character #afab!geto

[hellenhighwater]

Hello there! Absolutely no requirement to answer this, but I love the outdoor cat run you've attached to your home! I'd love to do the same, but I live in the American South, where mosquitos are very rampant, and it is very hot and humid in the summer. I would appreciate any amount of info you had put into practice or learned while making it, or if you had any insight to accommodate a different climate. It seems that the opening comes through a window, is it still possible to close it off? Thank you again. Your cats seem to love it, amazing job!

Can do! I also have some asks about how this is built, so let me try to explain that first. This is only attached to the house with two screws--under the ramp, not really visible, is a section of 2x4 (red rectangle) that is screwed flat into the siding (blue dots). That's what the ramp rests on, and the ramp in turn is attached to the doorway box with screws from the side (green lines). The box is also attached to the board with screws from the side (purple lines).

On the inside of the window, I stapled the window screen directly to the wooden frame. I don't have a good picture of this from inside, but in the first picture, the staples are on the inside where the yellow dotted line is. I then cut the window screen on that green L line (whoops should be a U, so that it's a flap!) in the same picture. The screen gets pushed open by the cats on their way in and out, and then flops back closed like a cat flap. You can see it pushed up in the first pic, on Mal's back in the side view, and closed in the third pic.

The other end of the ramp is attached to the catio with a pair of screws (blue lines in pic of end of ramp) and is zip tied to the wire and stapled to the wall (white lines).

Yes, I can still just close this window like normal. This doesn't affect anything on the inside, and if I wanted to remove this, I would just replace the screen fabric in this window (the frame is not affected at all) and put woodfiller in the screw holes in the siding. So this window continues to work like normal, with only small gaps where the screen flap hangs! If mosquitos get to be a problem, I would wrap the whole tunnel in window screen--which you can buy by the roll--and put another rectangular frame at the end of the tunnel by the catio, with another "cat flap" of window screen at that end. That way any mosquito that makes it through the first flap has to then make it through a second one to actually get in. If you were concerned about air conditioning escaping, I would actually fully enclose the tunnel with sheet foam insulation, and make a cutout that would fit in the open window of sheet foam as well. It wouldn't be perfect, but it would help. You could use an actual plastic cat flap for one end too!

To be clear, this is a complete impulse build out of scrap materials, so there's definitively refining to do! I'm probably going to put some kind of weight on the end of the screen flap to help it swing down, and treads on the ramp. It's also worth noting that this is NOT predator proof--if safety is a concern, use 1/2 in welded wire hardware cloth instead of this large-gap hog fence.

#you can wrap your whole catio in window screens if you want. I would do wire also #but yeah you can just make it lead to a net box.

[heartfullofleeches]

Oblivious healer entity reader that finds joy and endless happiness every day living in a town that's basically hell on earth for its human residents

-

To live in this place is to know true suffering. Life is meaningless, flesh is expendable. Few bother to make friends with their neighbors or check in relatives as tomorrow is never a guarantee. Creatures from the unknown, unexplainable disappearances, those who lost themselves and craved the same violence thrust unto them, false prophets. Those who attempted to flee often faced the worse kinds of punishment. There was truly no end to their torment.

Dazed and on the verge of collapsing, a new arrival in town found itself roaming the near empty shelves of a convenience store in ruin. Glass stabbed at its outer layer flesh, reflecting the strange clawing sensation in the lower regions of its stomach. It would later learn these feelings to be the pains of hunger, one it was not as fond of as others. The newcomer had learned so much in such a short time residing in this new town and body. It wanted to learn more - like what would happen if it stuffed those odd, brightly colored shapes into the singular hole it called a mouth. They were sweet, they were sour, they were savory- flavors and descriptions foreign til taught by those who cared for it later on.

The newcomer comes across the owner of the store laying motionless behind the counter. The syrup surrounding them is not as sweet as what it sampled from bottles in the cold storage spaces. Poking at the owner garners no response. It's then that the newcomer realizes their faults. It hadn't offered currency before eating like it'd seen others do. It didn't have those papers or coins or even those rectangular bits of plastic. It deciding the next best thing to give as payment was to fix that large hole in their face. None of the humans it came across before had one of those, so it must need fixing.

The store owner finally responded to its questions once it had repaired the hole. If the newcomer had anyway to describe the process it was like playing with clay. The store owner only answered in screams of terror until the newcomer was able to calm them enough to tell them how they had fixed them - and eaten the rest of their stock. They weren't upset by that second thought as the newcomer had thought, and even gave them a supply of their favorite treat before calling the police.

The newcomer wondered if it helped more people it would get more treats or be invited to come back anytime as the store owner had generously offered. It was having so much fun in this new form. Its powered had been limited, but the feel of warm sunlight on their skin was worth the loss. It couldn't understand why everyone around it was so unhappy when they get to wake up everyday and welcome the morning sun. It wants to fix people, it wants them to be happy. Many reject them for fear of the unknown, but those who accept cling onto them like a lifeline. Without the newcomer around they are plunged in darkness as it has become the source of light for them it speaks so highly of. The newcomer is oblivious to their devotion as it reads books about the new world and takes light of its tragedies as it takes glee I'm all its pleasures.

-

Yan: Let me get this straight - you just repaired my kidneys and all you want is a hamburger?

Entity Reader: .... Two?

-

Yan: There is no point in waking anymore. When I'm asleep i hear the crying of my dead mother. When I'm waking she's standing over my bed. I can't think, I can't breathe. Make it stop, make it stop- There is no reason to keep existing- I should just let my cannibal neighbor eat me

Entity Reader: ...They gave me eleven nuggets instead of ten. I am very happy right now. Want the extra? :D

Yan: ..I have never been more mentally stable than I am in this current moment, if you leave me I will die.

-

[Entity Reader walks in on a friend about to be sawed in half by a masked maniac. The two share a glance before Reader throws their arms up]

Entity Reader: Frankie!! :D

[The machine rips the saw out of their victim's abdomen and rushes reader - hugging them and spinning them around as the victim fights to keep their intensities in their body]

#yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere text

[training4theapocalypse]

Thirsty (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: SMUT, Mutual pining, Romance, Canon typical descriptions of murder and violence, Dubious consent (they are both kind of drunk), Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Safe sex (male condom), Multiple orgasms

Summary: Your job restocking vending machines takes you to businesses all over Evergreen - including Fennel Fields where the cute busboy keeps making eyes at you. (Based on this ask by @kpopgirlbtssvt)

A/N: There’s a part where Adrian picks the reader up over his shoulder but he is a very strong boi, I am confident he could shoulder carry any thirsty MF. PS My toxic trait is that I slip a reference to Scotland in literally everything I write.

Masterlist

Tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982,

Chapter text:

The muscles in your forearms ache as you drag your hand cart, stacked with cases of soda and water, up the ramp at the back of Fennel Fields. 

You wheel your final delivery of the day straight into their break room, as usual, and park your cart beside the vending machine, ready to start your restock. You’re greeted amicably by the staff, who know you well enough that they’re not surprised to see you. 

But one particularly familiar face spots you from across the room and practically leaps off his chair. Adrian Chase looks forward to your weekly trip to Fennel Fields, and today he can’t help but notice the glow on your face from hauling your delivery. He wonders what else makes your face glow like that. He bets he could.

“Hey, stranger,” you say, and he blinks at you as if snapping out of something.

“Stranger? It’s me, Adrian.”

You grin. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not but either way, you find it sort of cute. And, yes, Taylor warned you to stop flirting with the hot but kind of dorky busboy because he’s gonna end up catching feelings, but there’s something fun about getting him all flustered and making his cheeks burn.

“I know, Adrian. I could never forget that pretty face,” you tease. He turns slightly pink. There it is. “Thirsty?” you ask.

“Yup, and wait til you see what I got you.”

This has been your routine at Fennel Fields for a few months now. You pick up some speciality soda while you’re delivering beverages across Washington and Adrian brings you something- usually a snack or anything else he thinks you might like.

“Three… two… one.” At the same time, you pull the soda out from your bag and Adrian hands you a small, blue rectangular box.

A cassette tape. Aqua- Aquarium. 

“Adrian! This is so sick- it’s so hard to find tapes these days.” You flip it over to read the tracklist. “I fucking love Barbie Girl.”

“Me too! And I noticed your Walkman, so I thought you could use some more music.” He looks down at the orange and blue soda can in his hands, reading the label. “IRN BRU?”

“This is the weirdest soda I’ve found yet. It’s like bubblegum cream soda but it burns.”

He cracks it open, takes a sip and looks confused. “I think I like it?” He takes another sip. “It’s like my mouth hates it but needs more.”

“I know, right?” You put the cassette in your bag and open the vending machine.

“Thanks for the soda.” He nods at your tired arms as you start loading in your delivery. “Sick forearm pump, by the way.”

“Uh, what?”

“Yeah! You can totally tell you’ve been working on them- they’re huge.”

You raise an eyebrow. It’s probably meant as a compliment, but you’re not sure how you feel about Adrian talking to you like you’re one of his bros at the gym. 

“I mean- not huge! Like normal. But nice. And-“

“Have you seen Taylor?” You decide to step in before he can dig this particular hole any deeper. “I need him to sign for this.”

“What’s up, Cuz?” Taylor appears from around a corner. 

You hold out your electronic POS and stylus, awaiting his signature. “Just need you to sign this, then I’m done for the night.”

“Nice!” says Adrian “You got any plans after this?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you tease him, a small balloon swells up in your chest with excitement. You’ve never been sure whether Adrian’s always so excited to see you because he likes you or if he just really likes soda. 

“Uh, me,  Adrian. Remember?”

“Hey man, what did I tell you about hitting on my cousin?” Taylor gives him a stern look. “Don’t you have a pregnant girlfriend to be worried about?”

You’re surprised, to say the least. The fact that Adrian has a girlfriend (a pregnant one at that) but he still goes out of his way to exchange gifts with you every week is kind of disappointing. It reaffirms your belief that there are no decent men in this town.

“Yes! I mean, no. We, uh, we broke up.”

“Because of the party you tried to throw her?” asks Taylor.

Aw, that’s kind of sweet.

“Uh, yeah, she did not appreciate the abortion party.”

What the fuck?

Taylor signs for the delivery and hands you back the device, giving you a meaningful look- I told you so. The balloon of excitement in your chest feels well and truly punctured.

“But I mean, I’m not hung up on her or anything. I actually dumped her.”

Yup, no decent men alright.

You and Taylor exchange glances. You can practically hear the wet raspberry of the balloon deflating completely. 

“I’d better go. Thanks for the tape, dude,” you say a little more coolly than you’d intended in your hurry to hide your dismay before wheeling your cart out of the break room.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Adrian’s voice calls from behind you, but Taylor grabs the door before he can.

“I got it, man.” 

Taylor walks with you to the van. You lean up against the cab door in exasperation. Taylor offers you a cigarette which you go to accept, but he retracts the packet.

“Nuh-uh, let’s hear it first.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “You are so full of wisdom, as always, and I will forever heed your dating advice from now until the end of time,” you concede to Taylor, snatching a cigarette. He grins and lights you both up.

“Y’know what the weird thing is? I don’t think he ever had a girlfriend.”

You exhale a puff of smoke in surprise. “What was that about then?”

“I dunno. I caught him out here celebrating one night, and he made up a weird abortion party story. I think he was really out here dancing because Peacemaker came into the restaurant-“

“Peacemaker?! Jeez, isn’t that guy in jail?”

“Musta released him. But I think Adrian was being an excited fanboy and got embarrassed when I saw him. Dude’s a serial liar- I thought he’d come clean if I asked him about it in front of you.”

You lean your head back against the van. “Where are all the decent men in Evergreen?” You lament and start rhyming off, counting on your fingers. “They’re either obsessed with capes, racists, racist capes or racists who are obsessed with capes!”

“Well, speaking of capes, it’s getting dark. You better hit the road before you run into that nutcase, Vigilante.”

“Yeah, or the escaped gorilla,” you laugh, stubbing out your cigarette. 

“Put that in the trash or you’ll end up with a bullet in your head for littering.”

“I’ve charmed my way out of worse situations. Besides, maybe he’ll be the one to sweep me off my feet.”

“Vigilante? Or the gorilla?”

“Honestly, at this point, I’d take either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, your delivery route sends you off down the highway. It’s not a glamorous job, stocking vending machines at different businesses all over the place, but it’s easy, and you can listen to your own music. It takes you all across this little corner of Washington, and the more you see, the more grateful you are that you get to live in this beautiful, rocky state.

Even if there isn’t a single eligible man to be found on your entire route. You still feel a little crestfallen thinking about Adrian Chase. Why was he so intent on lying to Taylor yesterday? How deep does his Peacemaker obsession go if he was that embarrassed?

You pull up to the back of the Glan Tai bottling plant on the outskirts of Evergreen, put on your headphones and turn on your Walkman. You want to keep a low profile because the clients are much weirder here than the rest- Adrian Chase excluded.

They weren’t always like this. The facilities manager at Glan Tai was a friendly old man - Clive- who let you use their bathroom, and gave you filter coffee from a polystyrene cup to ease your two-hour journey home. Until one day recently, Clive wasn’t so friendly anymore. New management, you expected.

Head down, you drag your cart through the service entrance and make your way to their storage room. Aqua blasts in your ears as you wheel your way along the corridor. There are loud bangs and the ground vibrates slightly, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary in a site with heavy machinery. 

You get to the room where they keep the IT equipment, files and vending machine and start unloading. You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder and pull your headphones down around your neck.

“Oh, sorry Clive, I didn’t see you-“ 

You freeze, icy fear spreading through your veins as you find yourself face to face with - you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me - the escaped gorilla from the zoo.

You scream. Loudly.

Two people burst into the room, startling the gorilla. It backs away from you. For a second, you think they’re factory workers running to your rescue. But they slam and bolt the storage room door shut behind them.

“No! Unlock the door!”

They whip around and point their guns at you. You drop the case of water you’re holding and hold your hands up in surrender.

One of them, you recognise from the news. A man in a black and teal suit, armed to the hilt, with his face almost entirely obscured- except by a red visor covering his eyes.

It’s him. It’s Vigilante. And a blonde woman you don’t recognise. 

He lowers his gun and nudges hers away from your direction.

“Shoot her before she kills us both!” snaps the woman, irritated. 

“She’s not a butterfly,” says Vigilante, his voice muffled behind his mask. “I know her.”

He knows me? How?

“I’m just delivering water, I swear!” You beg her, looking between them. 

Just then, the gorilla appears from behind the shelves and launches the blonde woman across the room.

An involuntary yelp of shock escapes you again and the gorilla returns its attention to you. Thinking fast, you tip your cart forward, and the giant ape trips up on the cascade of cans and bottles.

“You didn’t think to tell us there was a gorilla in here?!” Comes the annoyed blonde woman’s voice from behind a broken table.

“I was preoccupied with the guns in my face!” 

The door to the storage room is blasted open and another woman bursts in, followed by none other than Peacemaker.

Adrian would lose his shit right now, you think to yourself.

Peacemaker looks at you through the eyeholes of his helmet “She’s clear, Adebayo” and the other woman lowers her gun. The gorilla gets up. “Oh shit!” says Peacemaker as it sends a swipe in your direction, sending you tumbling off your feet and onto the floor.

You cower in the corner as they fight the gorilla. Vigilante stabs it but it bats him away easily and does the same to the woman called Adebayo. Peacemaker launches himself onto the gorilla’s back but the beast throws him off onto the hard floor.

“Die, human!” 

Did that gorilla just speak? What have you gotten yourself into?

The gorilla raises its fists, ready to crush Peacemaker, when a man with an oddly patchy beard runs through the door, chainsaw in hand and proceeds to kill the gorilla, sawing it almost in half and sending blood splattering everywhere. 

A small winged creature crawls out of the dead gorilla’s mouth. The blonde woman gets to her feet and shoots it casually. What the…? Was that some kind of parasite?

The gunshot leaves your ears ringing but hearing your name whispered in your ear brings you back to reality. You blink stupidly at Vigilante, who is now crouched down inches from your face and you try to make out his eyes through the red visor. You know those eyes. But how? How does the mass murderer of Evergreen know you?

He hooks his arms under yours, lifts you to your feet and wipes the smattering of blood off your face. Your heart is racing as you continue to stare at him silently, dumbfounded. You know you should be scared of this masked man, who’s wanted on multiple counts of murder. But here he is, claiming he knows you, making sure you’re okay.

“What do we do with her?” asks the bearded man with the chainsaw. 

“Who, me?” you try and sound nonchalant. “I didn’t see anything. I’ll just get out of your beard- hair! I mean hair.” You go to put your headphones back over your ears but the blonde woman rips them off.

“Hey!” Vigilante steps between you and her. “Look, she’s cool. She says she didn’t see anything, so she didn’t”

“How do you know she’s not a butterfly?” she challenges Vigilante.

“X-ray helmet,” interjects Peacemaker. “No butterfly in that pretty little noggin.” He winks at you and Vigilante bristles, folding his arms in an irritated sort of way.

“Listen, I’ve got like four more deliveries today so…” You trail off as your body starts to go on autopilot. There’s an awkward silence as they watch you bustle around, stacking the blood-covered cases of water and soda back onto your cart.

“She’s clearly in shock,” says Adebayo, more gently than the blonde. 

“Hey, let me help you with that,” says a muffled voice from behind you.

‘Hey, let me help you with that.’

In the exact same cadence as yesterday. 

“A-Adrian?” you say hoarsely and you turn back around in time to watch Vigilante drop the case of water. “Adrian Chase?!” you repeat, your voice slightly hysterical. 

“No!” says Adrian unconvincingly but at the same time Peacemaker says:

“Godammit Vij. How does she know you?”

Adrian groans in frustration. “She delivers drinks to my job too!”

“That settles it- she’s a witness and she knows Vigilante’s identity. Adebayo, you need to end this. Don’t make her beg for her life like the other guy,” commands the blonde woman, clearly in charge of the team.

“Nonononononono,” Adrian stands in front of you with his arms folded. “No way. I am not letting you kill her.”

“That’s an order, Adebayo. Vigilante- move.”

“Wait,” says the guy with the beard. “She might actually be useful, Harcourt.”

Harcourt raises her eyebrows. “Well?”

“We’re looking for other leads, right? Other places where the butterflies are?” He looks at you. “Hey, water girl. Does this company have any other locations?”

“Y-yes,” your throat feels dry.

“Can you tell us where they are?” he asks.

“Will you let me live if I tell you?”

Everyone looks at Harcourt. She groans. “Fine. But we’re gonna need to figure out what to do with her to keep her from blabbering.”

“C’mon, she already said she was cool!” says Adrian.

“And you trust her?”

“One hundo percent.” He gives you a reassuring thumbs up.

“I wouldn’t trust his judgement,” says Peacemaker and you immediately feel faint. It must be obvious on your face because he backtracks. “No! Not that we should kill her! Definitely not. But Adrian would trust any hot girl. We can’t just let her go.”

Harcourt pinches the bridge of her nose as she thinks. 

“Vigilante,” she says finally. “I’m telling Murn that water girl is your responsibility. You’re going to keep her with you 24/7 until the mission is over. Any fuck-up, if she does or says anything that jeopardizes our objective, she’s dead and you’ll be doing black ops in Belize. Got it?”

“Cool, got it!” says Adrian enthusiastically, as if that isn’t the most horrifying thing he’s ever heard.

“Wait, don’t I get a say in this? I have a job! I have people who will be looking for me.”

“Do you want to cooperate or do you want to die?” 

“Which one do you wanna do?” asks Adrian.

If you hadn’t already figured out that Vigilante was Adrian Chase, that would have been the dead giveaway.

A few moments later, Adrian is leading you by the hand back through the factory to where your van is parked while you cover your eyes with one hand. He had suggested it after your knees almost gave way when you saw the pile of bodies at the door. And he liked that you had rejected Peacemaker’s offer to hoist you over his shoulder and carry you out.

“Oh, no… Clive,” you whisper, making the mistake of opening your eyes and seeing the old man crumpled on the floor, next to the coffee machine. You cover your eyes again.

“Watch you don’t slip in the blood here,” says Adrian gently, guiding you to side-step.

You groan. You think you might puke. 

“I can’t believe you killed all these people,” you whisper, wishing you could disassociate from this whole thing.

“We didn’t, not really- I promise. I’ll explain on the ride home.”

Harcourt instructs Adrian to drive your van, following theirs back to Evergreen. When you’re both out of earshot and in your van, Adebayo sits in the driver’s seat turning to Harcourt, Peacemaker and Economos. “Isn’t it kind of weird seeing Vigilante like this?”

“Like what?” asks Economos.

“Like, compassionate, sweet… not all hell-bent on murder?”

Peacemaker shrugs “He’s like this all the time. You should hear the way he talks about this other girl, his friend Taylor’s sister, or cousin, I think. He’s just a sucker for anyone who’s nice to him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, you’re sitting on the couch in your apartment, waiting for Adrian to finish up in the shower.

On the drive to their headquarters, Adrian had explained all about their mission and how an alien race called ‘the butterflies’ had taken over the bodies of (and, therefore, killed) all those people in the factory long before Adrian’s team had arrived.

At headquarters, you had told them everything you knew about your clients at Glan Tai and had given them the coordinates for their other delivery location- a small farm thirty miles north of the factory. Murn seemed to be satisfied with your intel and approved of Harcourt’s plan to have Adrian keep you under close surveillance. Great. 

Adrian grabbed his go-bag from his Sebring and drove the two of you in your van back to your apartment, where you immediately ran to the shower, to try and rid yourself of all the negative feelings from today.

He now appears in your living room, fresh out of the shower in a pale blue t-shirt and jeans, looking much less out of place than when he was in his full combat gear. But he still stands awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself. 

“Thirsty?” you ask him. “I’ve got wine.”

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you.”

You find two wine glasses and place them on the coffee table. He sits on the edge of your couch. “What am I gonna do, Adrian?” You open up a bottle of red wine and start pouring. “I could barely stand seeing all that shit at the factory. Do you really think I’m gonna kill you?” You slide a glass towards him and start filling your own. 

He looks down at the wine but doesn’t touch it. You raise your glass. “To forgetting the worst day of my life.”

“The worst day of your life? Today was awesome!” He looks genuinely surprised that you’re not sharing his elation. “We killed a ton of butterflies, and now thanks to you, we know where they keep their cow.”

It’s a sentence that wouldn’t have made sense to you a few hours ago. And you hate that it does now.

“We’re saving the world,” he continues. “And you helped!”

You push his wine glass closer to him. “To saving the world, then.”

He takes a sip and screws up his face. “Do you have any beer? Ooh, or soda!”

“It’s in the van. And most of it’s covered in blood now.”

“Then this is great,” he says, a little too politely. 

“If you’re not used to it, the first glass tastes like acetone,” you tell him, draining yours. “But the second one…” You pause, pouring yourself another. “The second goes down real smooth.”

Adrian copies you and gulps down the red wine. You refill his glass, and he takes another sip.

“The second one isn’t so bad, actually.” He sounds surprised. 

You sink down on the couch next to him. “So now what?” you ask. He looks confused, so you elaborate. “What do you usually do with hostages all night?”

“You’re not a hostage!” He looks offended. “I’m more like your bodyguard.”

“Oh yeah? Who are you guarding me from? Your friends?”

He looks up over his glasses in thought. “Well, just Harcourt. And Murn. But it’s mostly to keep you safe from the butterflies.”

You take another drink of wine. Studying his face, you think he’s telling the truth. He really doesn’t consider you to be his hostage. As you look him over, you realise you’ve never noticed how curly his hair is before- he’s normally wearing that dorky little Fennel Fields hat. 

You’ve always thought he was cute in a wholesome kind of way but now that he’s out of his work uniform, you can appreciate that he’s, like, ridiculously, conventionally handsome. You wonder if he knows it. You wonder a lot of things about Adrian, especially now that, come to think of it, everything you know about him is probably a lie to keep his secret identity hidden.

“Truth or dare?” you blurt. 

“What?”

“Go on.” You gesture towards him with your glass. “We’ve got a long night. I want to find out more about you. Adrian. Vigilante.”

He looks excited. Maybe it’s the prospect of playing a game, or maybe he’s just happy someone wants to know more about him. Both sides of him.

“Truth then.”

“Does your pregnant ex-girlfriend exist?”

He groans and leans his head back on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “No. I was just trying to cover how stoked I was that Peacemaker was out of jail.” 

You laugh, but your eyes linger on his exposed neck and the way his Adam’s apple moves when he talks.

He turns his head to look over at you through his wire-rimmed glasses. “I don’t think Taylor likes me.”

“Taylor likes you just fine,” you lie, sipping your wine.

“Truth or dare?” asks Adrian.

“Truth.”

“Has Taylor ever told you that you shouldn’t date me?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes. He told me not to give you my number.”

“Why?!”

“If you want to ask a follow-up question, then you need to take a drink. That’s the rule.” He does so- quickly. “Okay, fine. He says he doesn’t trust you because you’re always lying about things, and it kind of annoys everyone because you’re a bad liar.”

“Everyone?! I thought we were talking about Taylor?”

“If you want to be liked and have a secret identity, you need to be a better liar.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” admits Adrian, twisting the stem of the glass between his fingers. “Your turn, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

He thinks for a couple of beats. “I dare you to finish your drink.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“It was the only dare I could think of that wasn’t a sexy dare.”

The newly formed idea of Adrian asking you to do something sexy for him makes you pause. Warmth pools deep in your tummy as watches you, waiting. God, why does red wine always make you feel so slutty? You raise your eyebrows over the rim of your glass, and you drain the rest of the liquid. “Why don’t you want to give me a sexy dare?” you ask, setting your glass down.

“I dunno, don’t you think there’s kind of a power imbalance?” 

“That’s true. You are my bodyguard after all.” You nod contemplatively. “And I guess it would be awkward since you need to stay here for a few more days.”

“Oh, I meant-” Adrian cuts himself off. What he really meant would sound incredibly childish now. 

You get up from the couch to retrieve another bottle of wine from the breakfast bar that separates your kitchen from your living room. “Go on, what did you mean?”

“No, I meant what you said.” 

No, he didn’t. What he meant is that you have all the power because he has such a huge crush on you. And the way the wine is going to his head, he’s not sure he trusts himself to give you a dare without it having an ulterior motive. Adrian watches as you twist the corkscrew into the bottle with precision. Your chest jiggles in your tank top with the recoil of your arm extracting the cork, and it makes Adrian blush bright red. He discreetly adjusts himself in his jeans.

You bring the new bottle of wine over to the couch and sit down cross-legged, your back leaning against the armrest so you can get a better look at him without constantly straining. Fuck, he’s gorgeous like this, you think, as he gets comfortable, changing position so he can look at you too. In the soft light of your living room, you can make out that his cheeks are pink again. “Does wine usually make you flush like that?” you ask. 

“Uh, I wouldn’t know. Can wine do that?”

“To some people, yeah. For me, it just makes me feel kinda sexy.” You clap your hand to your mouth, watching Adrian’s eyes widen. “Ugh! Sorry, I wouldn’t have said that if I hadn’t had two glasses already.” You scoff and shake your head. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

The wine is making you feel bolder. “Have you had sex in your Vigilante costume?”

“Today?”

You almost choke on your newly poured drink with laughter. 

“Okay, that answers that question. In which case, I have a follow-up,” You take a sip, pointedly. “What’s Vigilante’s favourite sex position?”

“Oh, uh…” Adrian thinks back to when he last had sex as Vigilante, with Amber and Peacemaker a few days ago. “Any, I guess.”

“Any? C’mon, you picked truth!”

“It is the truth! I don’t take my mask off, or my suit if I don’t have to. So it always feels the same. Fun, I guess, but sorta uncomfortable. Funcomfortable.”

You smile and rest your head on your hand, elbow leaning on the back of the couch. “What about Adrian?”

“Is that another follow-up question?”

You acquiesce and take another drink but before you can even swallow he says “Missionary.”

“Boring,” you tease but he doesn’t seem fazed.

“It’s not. Not when you really like someone anyway. Missionary is fucking great - when you can kiss them, hold their hand, stare into their eyes…” He pauses, his green eyes burning into yours. “Boring is not being able to even taste someone because of my mask.”

You realise you’ve been holding your breath. You look away and exhale slowly, trying to steady the growing arousal burning hot, deep in your pelvic floor. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” When you raise your head again, he’s still looking at you intently. “I just realised I haven’t been fucked like that in a really long time.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah right! I bet you go on tons of dates.”

“I do,” you admit with a tilt of your head. “But did you know that like 90% of women don’t orgasm on a one-night stand?”

Adrian’s eyebrows knit together “That doesn’t sound right. Women always cum when I-”

“That’s what all men say, Adrian. But honestly, I don’t think a man has made me cum in, like, the entire time I’ve been single.”

“I could,” he says, matter-of-factly. It’s not a boast, it’s a simple statement. 

Honestly, you're not sure if it’s the alcohol or the vivid image you have of Adrian making you clutch at your bedsheets and moan his name, but something’s making the blood rush to your face and other parts of your body that you’re still desperately trying not to think about. 

“I’ll do it right now if you want?” 

He’s asking if he can try to make you cum as casually as if asking if he can help you restock the vending machine. It’s bolder than you’d expected from the shy busboy. Then again, you’d never expected him to be Vigilante either… maybe you should review all the preconceptions you have of him.

Your abdomen clenches. Fuck, you can feel how hot and sticky your underwear is as he blinks at you behind his glasses, waiting for your response.

You look at his face hungrily, eyes lingering on his lips, now stained with red wine. “Adrian, listen. I’m sure you’re very good, blah blah blah. But I just… I don’t want to set you up for disappointment. It’s kind of hard to make me cum.”

“Let me give it a shot. And if I can make you cum, you let me take you on a date.”

You stare at him, feeling your chest pounding as you contemplate his offer. There’s something about his voice that’s so sincere and so fucking desperate for you, your brain can’t think of a reason not to say yes.

“Truth or dare?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Truth.”

“Do you want me to go down on you? I’m really good at it.”

Yes! You want to scream- already stupidly soaking fucking wet at the mere idea of it. 

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut and nod. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Yeah?” His tone makes you think that he wasn’t really expecting you to say yes.

“Yes, Adrian.” You laugh in disbelief. “If you make me cum, you can take me on a date.” He grins and you shift inelegantly, not sure how to proceed. “So… how do you wanna-”

Adrian pounces on you before you can ask the question, his red-stained lips crashing against yours. You kiss him back- hard. You’re thirsty for him, you realise, as you taste the alcohol mixed with the slightly metallic taste of his saliva. You want to drain him, drown in him.

He groans when you grab the nape of his neck and suck on his bottom lip. He can’t believe that you’re kissing him like this- like it’s you who’s been pining after him and not the other way around.

You pause, lips barely touching his. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you like this for so long,” you whisper.

“You- you have?”

“Adrian, I spend half my week trying to find you new kinds of speciality soda just so I have an excuse to talk to you.”

“Oh.” Realisation dawns on him. All this time he just thought you were really, really into soda. 

Adrian gives you one last deep kiss and pulls away. He gets on his knees on the floor, and the sight of him there, with his hands on your hips and his body between your legs, makes your cunt clench. You bite your lips in anticipation.

His fingertips hook the hem of your sweatpants. “Can I take these off?” You lift your hips, permitting him to remove them.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring at your pussy.

“Adrian…” You mumble, suddenly self-conscious. Exposed. You try to bring your knees together, but he places a hand on each of your thighs, holding them firmly open. 

“You’re wet already,” he says, in a self-satisfied sort of way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. “When did that happen? Was it when I said I’d make you cum?”

You shake your head. “When I was wondering what kind of sexy dare you wanted to give me.”

He grins “I wanted to dare you to take your top off.” He traces a finger along your hot, wet folds. You gasp, feeling the calloused texture of his fingertip brushing up and down against your skin.

“Like this?” You lift your tank top up and over your head, tossing it aside and then you squeeze your tits together. 

He sits on the floor, lips parted slightly in awe. You feel like he’s looking at you like you’re the most-

“You’re the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Now you really are embarrassed but before you can respond, he dips the finger that was sliding along your folds into your pussy. You bite your lip to stifle the vulnerable, blissful sigh that leaves you.

“It’s okay- you can moan for me.” He reassures, pushing a thick finger in and up. You feel your walls squeezing around him in response. “God, you’re so tight around my finger.”

“Fuck-” you plead, as he teases you, gently stroking your g-spot. His lips haven’t even touched you yet and you already feel like you’re having to consciously stop yourself from cumming.

“You needed this, huh?” he asks and you watch as he kisses your inner thigh, sucking the sensitive skin there. You have to look away- just the sight of his jaw muscles moving as he traces his tongue along the crevice where your thigh meets your body almost sends you over the brink.

“Adrian, I’m- fuck-” After all your warnings about how difficult it would be to make you cum, you’re are shamefully close already- and Adrian knows it. Everything below your waist is hot and shaking and swollen as his finger curls up inside you, tapping rhythmically. 

“Wait not yet- I’ve got to taste you. I want you to cum on my tongue.”

Warmth envelopes your clit as Adrian opens his mouth and slowly glides his tongue over the bundle of nerves there, tasting you for the first time. He barely moves at all but you’re so close that just the pressure of his mouth on you sends the crashing wave of your orgasm rolling across his hot tongue. Your back arches and your walls clamp down around his finger. 

He lets out a groan, sending pleasant vibrations across your clit. 

“Shit, Adrian-”

Blinding lights appear somewhere between your eyelids and the centre of the universe. Your thighs tense as the pleasure shoots through your body, your pussy flooding his mouth between your legs. 

When you finally stop twitching he removes his tongue from you, giving you a moment’s respite. 

“That was, like, really easy,” he smirks as you run your hands through your hair in disbelief. “I didn’t even have to take my glasses off.”

“I’ve never-” You try to catch your breath, blinking at him. You’re not sure you’ve even made yourself cum that quickly before. “That’s never happened -so fast- ever.”

“I shoulda asked what two orgasms would get me.”

“Literally anything. Do whatever you want with me-” you babble, staring up at the ceiling. You pause to look down when you feel him remove his finger from inside you. 

And he takes off his glasses, ready to make you a fucking mess.

It’s the singular hottest action you’ve ever seen anyone do in your entire life- Adrian Chase is going to be the end of you.

He hooks his arms behind your knees, lifting your ass off of the couch and pulling you towards him. 

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he says, mesmerised by the way your chest still heaves in the aftershock of your orgasm. Adrian buries his face between your legs, delving his tongue between your lips and exploring your entrance.

He pulls back for a second “I knew you’d taste so fucking good.” 

Fuck. 

You watch as he sucks on two of his fingers and sinks them deep inside you, up to his knuckles. When you repeat his name over and over, he answers by flicking his tongue over your clit.

You gasp at the sensation and grab a fistful of his thick, curly hair. His tongue rolls gentle circles around your clit as his fingers work in and out, softly stretching your pussy. Adrian takes his time now and it’s agonising. 

For so long he’s been having sex as Vigilante. Adrian’s missed this, the freedom of having his mask off. Of taste. And he can’t believe that it’s you that he’s devouring. 

Fuck, and you could lie here like this forever, just enjoying him exploring you, like he wants nothing more than to make you gush all over him and cry his name again. Normally you’d feel under pressure to perform, to give him that second orgasm he’s so determined to draw from you, but the way he’s taking his time, lazily swirling his tongue in circles, and curling his fingers into you makes you dissolve into a puddle.

“Fuuuck,” you whine helplessly, feeling the familiar sensation of you losing yourself, the heat that’s been slowly building deep in your core threatening to boil over. “Can we do this, like, the whole time you’re here protecting me?” Your eyes try to find his but he’s staring at your tits. His other hand is on your hip, fingers not quite stretching up towards you - as if unsure what the boundary is on touching you when it comes to this silly little deal you’ve made.

You pull his hand to your chest, encouraging him to squeeze you. He moans needily between wet, sloppy licks. The sound of him being so turned on just from touching your body, when you haven’t laid a hand on him yet sends ecstasy searing through you.

And it comes, whipping through your core and cracking like thunder. You squeeze your thighs around his head and he lets you set the pace, as you grind yourself wildly onto his tongue, his lips, his chin. Adrian groans in encouragement when you grip the back of his head, his fingers still pressing into your g-spot as you press yourself against his mouth. 

You cum hard again, your rocking hips eventually shuddering to a halt as he gives you a few last long, slow licks. The faint prickle of embarrassment you feel from letting yourself come undone like that vanishes when you see Adrian’s face light up, his lips swollen and sticky, totally enamoured by your now slightly dishevelled appearance. 

His mouth looks irresistible. You slink down off the couch to join him on the floor so you can kiss him desperately. Fuck, why did you ever listen to Taylor? You needed this. Needed him. You taste the sweet, salty juices on Adrian’s lips and on his tongue.

“I’ll admit-” you breathe, pressing your forehead against his. “- you’re like really, really fucking good at that.”

“Told you.” He leans on the couch and gets to his feet. “So, where’s your bedroom?”

“Uh, down the hall, across from the bathroom. Why?”

“Two orgasms and I can do what I want with you. Deal’s a deal.” Before your brain can catch up, he hoists you to your feet and over his shoulder, making you squeal involuntarily with delight.

Oh my fucking god.

Adrian slaps your ass and carries you through to your bedroom, tossing you onto your bed where you burst into a fit of giggles. He smells warm and clean, like your favourite shower gel he must have used earlier. He crawls on top of you and plants tiny kisses all over your lips, your cheeks, your nose- every inch of your face and neck peppered with his affection. 

He pulls off his T-shirt and - Jesus Christ, he has abs. But you also notice his torso is covered in scars and bruises, the evidence of his double life painted across his body. A streak of white scar tissue here, a purple welt there-

“Don’t girls usually ask about all these injuries?” You ask, tracing your hand down his chest.

“I usually keep my suit on.” He shrugs.

And that’s when you realise- he doesn’t just happen to have sex as Vigilante. He only has sex as Vigilante. You feel a pang of understanding, thinking about the way he so wistfully described missionary earlier. You’re the only one who’s seen him like this. Both sides of him.

Adrian undoes his belt buckle and looks down at you lying spread out of the bedsheets in front of him, still flushed and glowing. He knew he’d be able to make you glow like that.

He pauses. “Do, uh, do you have a condom? I wasn’t expecting to…”

You find a condom in your bedside drawer while he undresses and then you help to put it on him as you kiss the small trail of dark hair below his belly button. He’s big- bigger than what you’re used to. You’d really, really like to suck it, you think. But Adrian has other ideas. He guides you back to lie on your pillows and climbs on top of you.

Wanton anticipation bubbles over inside you, you sigh needily as he kisses your neck and brings his calloused hand between your legs again. He slides his fingers into your folds and you hear the wet sounds of him rubbing your slick on his cock. It’s greedy but you’re already impatient for him- you want to cum for him again.

He positions himself at your entrance and looks into your eyes. “You okay?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Fuck me- please.”

The way you plead makes him twitch- he can’t take it anymore. The erection he’s had since you opened that second bottle of wine is throbbing. Adrian’s hips press into you and you feel his cock pushing through your folds, into your centre. A soft whimper escapes your lips as you feel him filling you up, the walls of your pussy struggling to accommodate him.

Watching your reaction, he double checks “Sure you’re okay?” 

You nod. Because it aches - but in the best kind of way. 

“Good,” he says. “Because you feel so good. Your pussy feels so fucking good around me.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. Fuck, he has such a slutty little waist, you think to yourself as he grinds into you, pushing deeper, the head of his cock pressing into your g-spot. You slip your hand between your bodies to touch yourself and he moans quietly in your ear.

“Oh my god, yeah. Fuck, rub your clit because I’m not gonna last long.”

He clasps your other hand, fingers intertwining with yours- half holding it, half pinning it to the bed. Your body writhes under him, leaning your head back into your pillows and he takes the opportunity to suck at your freshly exposed neck.

“You look so good taking it so deep like this,” he groans, tilting his head down to watch his cock slide in and out of you. “I can’t believe I’m fucking inside you.”

Everything he says makes the hairs on the back of your arms stand up. You feel so, deliciously full- the indecent slapping and squelching noises as he picks up pace and pounds into you only makes you wetter.

Your legs squeeze around his waist as your whole body tightens like a spring coiling, ready to be released. The friction of his body moves yours, driving you into your mattress, and putting even more rhythmic pressure on your fingers against your clit. 

“Adrian, I’m- ah, fuck- I’m gonna cum again.”

“Fuck, look at me. I want you to cum when I cum. Let it all out for me.”

You try and keep eye contact with him while bliss rockets through your body as his hips slam into you harder. It spreads from your centre right down your legs, now in a vice-like grip around him. You curse his name incoherently, your pussy tightening and releasing as you cum around his cock. 

“That’s it- fuckfuckfuckfuck-” His full weight collapses on you as he empties himself. You feel Adrian’s cock pulsing inside you as he groans your name and comes to a halt.

You both lie there for a few moments, Adrian breathing raggedly into the crook of your neck, his heartbeat and yours pounding against each other. Your euphoria is interrupted only briefly when he pulls out of you and disposes of the condom. 

Adrian returns to your bed and pulls you into his chest. 

“I am never listening to Taylor ever again,” you say, face pressed against his pectoral muscles.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, unless…” You tilt your head up to look at him. “You still want to take me on a date right?”

“Are you crazy? Of course, I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nevermind.” The dating scene in Evergreen has sucked so hard for so long, your first thought was that he might not want to see you again.

He grabs your face with both hands, trying to drum sense into you. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for months. You’re not getting rid of me.”

Adrian plants a kiss on your forehead.

Maybe there is a decent man in this town after all.

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante peacemaker #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #adrian chase x you #vigilante x you #vigilante x female reader #smut #adrian chase smut #vigilante smut #fanfiction #fanfic

[sariahsue]

Wherefore Art Thou My(stery) Lady

When a failed attempt to let Chat Noir down easy ends with Ladybug learning his name, she does what any lovesick teenager would do: teases him mercilessly. (Season 2/3 era.)

Chapter One

It figures, Adrien thought, as Ladybug carried him to safety. It figured it would be a dog-themed akuma. And that it would find the only cat-themed superhero in the city, even though he wasn’t currently transformed. It figured he would have to be rescued, cradled bridal style, and that Ladybug would hug him so tightly that--

Nope. Akuma. Focus on the akuma that was currently tearing through the streets, barking at people until they literally froze in terror, digging holes a hundred feet deep, and probably chasing his own tail. Focus on the lurch in his stomach as they jumped from building to building, the honking of the cars stuck in traffic, the flash of the sun reflecting off skyscraper windows. Focus on anything except for how warm she was, how firmly she held him, how her lips--

Nope, nope, nope. The wind in his hair. Birds chirping in the distance. Anything.

Ladybug bounded gracefully over the Agreste mansion's protective outer wall and landed on the grass, held him for a few seconds longer than was necessary (he noticed with elation), and then carefully set him down. 

“Well,” she said, her smile wide and bright. “Stay safe! I wouldn't want anything to happen to you!” 

Adrien watched her until she was nothing more than a red speck, then raced out through the gate, so he could find somewhere to transform. Ladybug needed her partner.

---

The akuma was easy to defeat, after Ladybug called her Lucky Charm. It was a box of caramel chocolates. No, they didn't feed any to the dog. Caramels made a wonderful, sticky trap when they were all melted together. Who knew? His genius partner, naturally.

Chat Noir picked up the (sadly not heart-shaped, just plain old rectangular) empty box and brought it over to her. “Look at what I fetched for you.”

“Thanks, Dog Noir,” she said, reaching out a hand for it. 

He stuck out his tongue, preparing to toss the red and black box back to her, before realizing he could get one more pun out of it. He held it with both hands and gently placed it into her outstretched palm. He didn't let go until he'd caught her eye and said, in very serious tones, “For you, My Lady. And may I say, you look very fetching.” The box slid out of his hands, and Ladybug's expression morphed into a frown.

Within moments, the victim was back to normal, the holes had been removed from the street, and Ladybug was staring him down. 

“I've told you,” she said.

“You've told me lots of things, Bug. You're going to have to be more specific.” Though he was fairly certain he knew what she wanted to say. Another rejection. 

“You aren't going to win me over.” 

Being prepared didn’t soothe the disappointment. “Would you mind if I kept trying anyway?”

Ladybug's face softened, and her hand went to her earrings as they beeped a warning. Two more minutes. “Thank you for the compliment, but it's not going to work.” She didn't sound exasperated, just sad. “I have to go.”

“See you at patrol later?” he asked as she threw her yoyo. 

“Of course,” she said. “Keep in mind what I said, though.”

How could he not? Chat Noir sighed loudly once she was out of sight. 

He still had three and a half minutes before he transformed back. Enough time to get poor dog-man home before anyone noticed Adrien was missing. 

---

Patrol that night started out more formally than it usually did, and he knew it was due to his earlier declarations. Ladybug kept her distance from him physically and emotionally, only speaking when it was necessary and staying two or three rooftops ahead of him. He wasn’t getting the feeling that she was mad. Her tone was kind. And she always checked to make sure he was keeping up, even stopping to wait when she needed to. 

Maybe she just didn’t want to give him any false hope.

Over the course of the hour, he steadily creeped closer to her. By the time they had reached the Louvre, they were side by side like they normally were. So naturally, Chat Noir let his curiosity get the better of him and asked a question that had plagued him for months. “So what's my rival like?” he asked. “Is he as funny and as handsome as me?”

“How should I know?” she said. “I can hardly see your face.”

Surprised by her sudden teasing, he quickly offered, “I could change that.” Which of course, he realized as soon as the words were out of his mouth, was about the most unhelpful thing he could have said.

Ladybug scoffed and took off, leaving Chat Noir to figure out how to fix his latest mess-up. She didn't seem too averse to answering questions, so maybe all he had to do was try again? 

He stayed level with her, but gave her some space, choosing to run across the rooftops on the other side of the street. Headlights created a glow beneath them, a river of light that cast her in a warm haze. 

After a few minutes of silence, he tried again. “I'm very handsome,” he said, trying to play it off. “Would you believe me if I said I was a superhero by day and a supermodel by night?”

“Pfft. No.” She stopped on a wide balcony and smiled at him. 

He leaned over the edge of the roof to look down at her. “Maybe I just play one on TV then.” 

“Unlikely.” She threw her yoyo and zipped away.

“No, really, what's he look like?” he called after her. “You can tell me that much.” They usually ended their patrol near Collège Françoise Dupont, which was convenient for him. And ever since Alya had discovered the little tidbit about Ladybug's history textbook, he’d started to suspect that the ending location was more than just a convenience for her, too. She probably lived nearby. They landed on the school's roof at the same time, and he thought she would just take off after that question, but for the second time, she surprised him. She sat down and leaned back on the flat top of the building. To the civilians below, only her feet would be visible, dangling over the edge. Chat Noir stayed as close to her as he dared, sitting by her knees, close enough to touch her if he reached, and stared down at the school’s stairs beneath them.

Ladybug chewed her lip like she was thinking. Did that mean she was figuring out her answer? Or was she figuring out how to say no nicely? 

“He looks... a little bit like you,” she said, letting her feet kick against the side of the building. 

“What if he is me?” Chat Noir asked. He hesitated before scooting closer, not wanting to push her. If she ran off again, she'd probably just go home.

“But the chances of you being the same person are really slim.”

“So what does he look like then? White kid? Blonde?”

“Green eyes, too,” she said.

“So he’s probably me.”

“Will you stop?” She held both arms straight up above her and then let them fall wide to either side of her. “There’s thousands of people in Paris that fit that description. He’s not you.”

“You said it yourself. The chances are slim. But that implies there’s still a chance.”

Chat Noir was trying really hard to convince himself that he was just teasing her. There was no way he was lucky enough to really be the guy she liked, but his mind drifted back to earlier that afternoon. The way she had held him when he wasn’t transformed, smiled at him, made sure that he stayed safe. What if the boy she liked was Adrien Agreste? 

What would it be like to walk hand-in-hand with her at school? Or have plans together on the weekend?

It would hurt more to hope if he turned out to be wrong, but he couldn't help himself. She made him hope like nothing and no one else in his life could.

“Would it be bad if we were the same person?” he asked after it was clear she wasn’t going to answer his last comment.

“Not bad,” she said. “Just weird. You’re really different.” 

“I thought you said we were both devilishly handsome, amazing, with perfect comedic timing–” 

Ladybug laughed and shoved him. “Perfect comedic timing? You?”

“As evidenced by your laughter right now.” He gestured to her. She looked over at him from where she was lying down. 

Her smile was glowing, brighter than the cars passing them on the street. Brighter than the moon. “You’re both wonderful people, I’ll give you that. Sometimes dorky, but I’m happy to know both of you.” 

Chat Noir felt his face going hot at the unexpected praise.

“And sure, you look kind of similar. There. Are you satisfied?” 

“We go to the same school,” he blurted out. “What are my chances now?”

“Chat!” She bolted upright to face him, eyes wide. “You can't just give away information like that!”

“I didn't-”

“We go to the same school?” she shrieked.

“I don't know!”

“So what made you say that?”

“Well, I thought maybe–” There was no way out of the mess he’d just created. Ladybug was on her knees, both hands on the roof of his - probably their - school. “I... the textbook?” he finished timidly. Even if that had been a false lead, he’d effectively just told her which school he attended, and he wasn’t sure how she would take it.

“Alya!” Ladybug growled, rubbing the heel of her hand into her forehead. When she faced him again, there was a big red spot. 

“So... you really do go to my school?” he asked, patting a patch of roof next to him. 

“You... you've known this... Alya released that video ages ago. You knew we went to school together, and you haven't come looking for me?”

The fragility in her tone caught him off guard. “Of course not,'' he reassured. “What kind of privacy invader do you take me for? I ought to be offended!” (The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on him.)

Ladybug didn't laugh, just quietly said, “Thank you. We go to the same school. Huh.”

The crisis he’d unintentionally created seemed to have passed. Hope bubbled up again. Most kids their age had crushes on people from school. “My chances?” 

“Are slightly increased, but I'm fairly certain you're two different people. In fact, I'm not even sure we've met at school. I would have remembered meeting someone as loud and obnoxious as you.”

“Unlikely,” he muttered, but it was quiet enough that she hadn't heard him. “So this guy, that may or not be me...”

“He's not you.”

“What do you like about him?” He acted so differently at school. He didn’t think she would recognize him. Would he recognize her description of him? Maybe she would let it slip that the boy she was crushing on was a celebrity or famous or something. 

It was hard to ignore the niggling doubt that said raising his hopes would only hurt more later.

“You really want to do this to yourself?” she asked, echoing his thoughts.

At the very least, he’d learn more about his Lady. What had won her over so soundly? (Maybe he would have a better shot with her if he knew that.)  “Sure.” 

“He's kind,” she said immediately. “He's the type of person who would help someone out even if they hated him. When we first met he went out of his way to apologize to me for something that was my fault. And he has the most amazing amount of patience I've ever seen.” She smiled while Chat Noir frowned. That didn’t sound like him. 

“I mean,” she continued, “he has enough patience to deal with C-- this student that no one likes. And he's just so gentle and sweet and... yeah.” She sighed. “That's why I like him.”

She stared out over the lights of the city, but he was certain that she wasn't seeing a single building. Her face was peaceful and shining. It was a good look for her.

“Even if it turns out he's not me, he sounds like a nice guy.” He wasn't as great as Ladybug described, not nearly as kind or the well of unending patience, though that's what he tried to be like. 

Then again, how many blond, green-eyed, white boys were there in the school? His chances had to be pretty good, didn't they? 

“What makes you think he's not me? The personality difference?”

“I've seen you two in the same place at the same time.”

Chat Noir's heart sank. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. He knew he shouldn't have. And yet he had anyway. His ears drooped, and he grabbed his tail and started weaving it through his fingers, just to have something to do. 

“Oh, Kitty.” Ladybug looked over at him. “I'm so sorry.”

“Maybe... maybe you just thought that you--”

“Please don't,” she said. “Please stop doing this.”

“But maybe you just thought--”

“Chat Noir!” 

He turned to face her, slowly, deliberately. “I'm not giving up. If he's not me, I'm going to keep trying to win you away from him until you ask me to stop.”

Ladybug shut her eyes in defeat. “I should.” 

But she didn’t, the hopeful piece of his heart whispered. He really wished it would shut up right now.

“Would it be easier for you if I did?”

“I–” What did he want? He felt at war with himself. Determination to keep going. But giving up might eventually make the pain of rejection stop. 

She was looking at him with so much compassion and caring. The constant declarations annoyed her sometimes. He knew that. But she didn’t hold it against him and still asked if he was okay. Despite everything, he loved her. That was that. “I’d rather be able to express myself. But only if it doesn’t bother you.” 

She shook her head, eyes down. “It’s fine.”

“Who is he?” he asked.

“I already told you, I can't tell you,” Ladybug said. “We can't know anything about each other. It's--”

“Then we can’t know for certain that he’s not me.” It was false hope at this point, but it was the only hope he had, so he clung to it. She'd seen them together. Maybe he had saved this guy’s life.

She stood. “I'm sorry, Chaton.” She zipped away without another word, up and over Marinette’s bakery and out of sight.

Chat Noir didn't feel much like being a superhero right now, but he didn't feel like going home so early either. He slowly climbed down the walls, detransformed, and trudged his way back to the mansion on foot, his hands in his pockets.

---

The next time he saw her was two nights later, their next patrol. She had arrived first, which was unusual, and was pacing at the top of Le Grand Paris, waiting for him. The sting of her rejection had been his companion for the past 48 hours, and it flared up a little when she turned her bright, blue eyes on him.

“Evening, My Lady,” he said, bowing elegantly. “I hope you've--”

“I have an idea.”

Chat Noir was still bent at the waist, and the grandeur of his gesture was broken by his sudden jerk upright. That sounded urgent. “What kind of idea?”

“Uh...” Ladybug didn't usually hesitate like that, and he realized that it probably hadn't been urgency in her voice, just anxiety. Ladybug kept going. “How I can prove you two aren't the same person without revealing anybody's name.”

“Oh.” Stellar way to start a patrol. 

“Here's my plan. So after I went home the other day, I felt bad that you felt bad and then I had to figure something out, so that you could be happy again, and I promise I won't go looking for you.” Her words tumbled and tripped over themselves. “And I thought that it would probably be best if you could just stop thinking the way you were thinking, but no one’s identity will be compromised, and this is kind of dangerous if I’m wrong, but I’m not wrong, so if you don't want to do this it's fine, and of course you couldn't be the same two people, and--”

“Ladybug.” He hadn’t heard her babble like that for at least three months. Whatever her plan was, she was obviously presenting it to him against her better judgment. Her arms curled around herself, like she was terrified. Her hands were tight balls.

“I went through all of last year's yearbook. Are you in there?”

He nodded slowly, uncomprehending. “Yes?”

“I checked everyone, well, all the boys who look like the two of you. There's a bunch of people who match your general description, and none of them have the same initials. And no one has the same first initial as him, so I thought-- you could tell me what your first name starts with, and...”

And she could crush his heart once and for all when it didn’t match. 

Or, his traitorous heart whispered. Or maybe…

“Don't worry about me,” he said, resigned. It was a silly hope. He would just go back to his original plan of winning her over.

Ladybug hugged herself tighter, fists clenched, staring at his shoulder. “Are you sure? Because we don't have to do this.”

He squared his shoulders to brace himself. “A.”

“A?”

He nodded. 

“Your last name?”

“What do you need it for? You said no one else has the same first letter.” She didn't answer, and he couldn't tell if this was a good sign or a bad sign.

“Another A,” he said.

Aside from her fists loosening slightly, she gave no visible reaction, though he thought he heard her breathing pick up a little.

“Ladybug?”

“Ladybug has to go home now,” she whispered.

He blinked. “What about patrol?”

Without so much as a backward glance, she slipped over the side of the hotel. He watched as she skittered away over the rooftops and toward the direction of the school. What was that reaction? It looked bad. Those were bad feelings she was having. Did she leave so she wouldn’t have to hurt him again? Or some other reason?

Chat Noir finished the patrol route on his own, not sure if he should feel hopeful or despairing.

Ch 2

---

Author's note: Hello! Welcome to my Big Bang contribution! This story has seven chapters and will update every Saturday! Thank you to @toadashi who did some great artwork for it! To @cardiac-agreste for beta reading. To @jennagrinsoverml, for being so interested in this half-formed story that I eventually finished it. And to @mlbigbang for hosting this event!

Here is the artwork for this fic! :https://www.instagram.com/p/C1l539rowbO/?igsh=cmloaWRyaWVkdThv

#ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #fanfiction

[jasperthehatchet]

Buttons!! I found all these in a button bag at the thrift store for like 3 bucks. They're perfect for some solarpunk clothing projects I wanna do

They're mostly wood, coconut shell and metal, and a few plastic ones and they're all so beautiful. I wanted to post them just cause I like sharing my treasures and shinies <3

[Image ID: The first image is of 8 coconut shell buttons, a large hexagon shaped one with a flower design carved into the darker side, and a large circular one with curvy lines carved into the lighter side. The rest are smaller circular buttons with no designs. One side of each button is dark brown and the other side is light brown. All buttons in this image are two-hole buttons.

The 2nd image is of three buttons. The large hexagon one from the first image, and two large plastic buttons, a little bigger than a quarter. One black button with an anchor and some rope carved into it and a simple dark brown one with a stitched design on the outer rim of the button. Both plastic buttons are four-hole buttons

The 3rd image is of 14 wooden two-hole buttons, all the same size (size of a penny). They are a variety of rainbow colors and patterns, some with psychedelic designs. Some of them have the same design

The 4th image contains four large wooden two-hole buttons with the same size and design. There are cherry blossom branch designs burned into the wood.

The 5th image has two rectangular wooden shank buttons (shank buttons have no holes, they have a plastic, metal or wood loop on the back). One is green with peas on the front and the other is red with an eggplant, both are designed like packets of seeds. Almost an inch tall and half an inch wide

The 6th image is a variety of metal shank buttons in various sizes. A set of two large aged brass colored ones with an intricate sun design, a small brass one with a different intricate sun design, a large aged silver one with wildflowers and a butterfly on it, a small brass one with simple leaf designs on it, a small copper colored button with a tree of life, a shiny silver one with intricate geometric designs (hard to describe) and a set of two small hexagon shaped silver buttons with a smaller hexagon in the middle and black swirly lines outside of the smaller hexagon (my favorite ones)

The final image is of a variety of simple smaller buttons. A simple green resin four-hole one with subtle swirls, a few different flat metal buttons woth no designs, two two-hole buttons that have a silver middle and a clear resin rim, a large two-hole copper colored button made of shell, a small brown plastic button with a single 3D leaf design on the front and a blue wooden star shaped button with two holes. End of ID]

I really hope this image ID is sufficient please let me know in the comments or reblogs if there's anything I should edit or fix 💚

#solarpunk #solarpunk fashion #solarpunk aesthetic #solarpunk diy #sewing #buttons #mending #diy #ecopunk #hopepunk