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#should I tag nirvana
mikimeiko · 9 months
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Free Guy (Shawn Levy, 2021)
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celeryguy · 1 year
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hello ai fandom
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mushroomjar · 11 months
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Hiiii does anyone have any good grunge band recommendations? I know of some of the big ones (Nirvana, Alice In Chains, Soundgarden, etc) but I'd like to know if anyone else has any good recommendations (when I say grunge I mean grunge. If you try to say "Arctic Monkeys" I'll kill you), bonus points if the band has a female vocalist or people of color in it (and before you say it, yes I know about Bam Bam as well)
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holdoncallfailed · 2 years
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The melody to 'All Apologies' is so simple it seems as though someone, somewhere, must always have been singing it. Appropriately, it followed Kurt Cobain around for years in different forms: His undated acoustic home demo, thought to have originated around 1990, was pleading and sincere, while the version the band tracked in 1991 but left off Nevermind was sardonic and sloppy. As the song lurched towards its final self, sharpening early lyrics and gaining a cello, it began to radiate a vast, frightening exhaustion. Feelings this big trail us for years before revealing their awesome face, and by the time Cobain was onstage performing it for MTV Unplugged: Live in New York, it had the clarity and finality of epiphany. It’s always been interpreted as a suicide note, but really it’s just a master statement. The song held everything: tenderness and bitterness, anger and acceptance, love and hatred, resignation and revelation. What else could he say?
Jayson Greene for Pitchfork’s 250 Best Songs of the 1990s
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bloomingnewwrld · 1 year
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kuruto ryuki doodle
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beelzeballing · 7 months
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nirvana? you mean the guys who did the op for elfen lied? yeah theyre cool or whatever
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blastlight · 1 year
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put in the tags musicians/bands you've found via youtubers using their music for intros/outros/ect
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fear-is-truth · 3 months
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STOP THE WORLD (i wanna get off with you)
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⋮ 𝐟ic tags. . . sub!tate x fem!reader. nsfw. dry humping.
⋮ word count. . . 1k. requested by: anonymous
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Things with your best friend seemed to be heading in the right direction, you thought, but uncertainty still lingered. The fear of jeopardizing your friendship held you back. Heck, you weren’t even sure if Tate would want things to change. For all you knew, it might be delusional thinking on your part.
So here you were, seated side by side on your queen-sized bed, engaging in nothing more than each other's company. The mixtape you both had meticulously curated during one dull, rainy afternoon played in the background.
Tate inhaled a small breath, exhaling slowly through his nose. Despite the closeness, it wasn’t quite enough. Deciding to take a chance, he subtly shifted his knee closer to yours. Now, there was contact. You sucked in a surprised breath at his subtle yet bold move.
"Heart-Shaped Box" by Nirvana began to play, signaling the nearing end of the playlist, you felt the impending restart would mean losing all your confidence and chickening out completely. Before you could figure out a plan, Tate began caressing your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your eyes instinctively darted downward to your entwined fingers, and your heart quickened its pace.
“Y/n,”
His voice was cracked with longing. Almost as if he was pleading you for something, or perhaps, for you.
You understood, or at least hoped you did. With that in mind, you lifted your other hand and gently stroked the side of his cheek. His skin was warm to the touch, a fact that never ceased to amaze you considering that he was a ghost.
Tate leaned in closer, his proximity making your lower belly flutter in anticipation. Your noses were now touching, almost on the verge of a kiss. Heart pounding, you met him halfway, mouths connecting— hot, wet, and eager. He opened his and you slid your tongue against his before sucking on it hungrily. He moaned, and you did too.
A thin, glistening thread of saliva lingered between your lips as you finally pulled apart.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said quietly.
“How long?”
“Since the day you stepped into this house.”
Tate leaned back on the bed, propping himself up with his forearms, inviting you in. You immediately notice the prominent tent in his jeans, which made your cheeks heat up. Heart hammering, you decided to fuck all caution as you flung a leg over him, settling yourself in his lap. He immediately grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you into a kiss again, deeper this time. He sighed softly against your lips, relishing in the way your fingers carded through his curls and your nails scratching gently at his scalp.
Acting out of pure instinct, Tate began bucking his hips upwards, the sudden friction causing the both of you to moan harmoniously. He stiffened underneath you, stopping abruptly. You stared at him, confused and desperate for more. His quickly gaze rose to meet yours, embarrassment and guilt flickering in his eyes. Face flushed, lips slightly parted, unsure if he should continue.
“Do that again,” you told him breathlessly.
Tate immediately complied, resuming the rocking motion and picking up pace.
“Feels so good…” he mumbled in a strained whisper. You hummed in agreement as you grinded your pelvis into him, back and forth as you felt his clothed cock twitch once under your aching heat. You paused your movements, taking a moment to admire him. His eyes fluttered open, a disgruntled whine leaving his lips as he stared up at you. A pink flush adorned his cheeks, a delicate, rose-tinted hue. Brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears, their sheen accented by just a hint of red along the rims. God, he looks so pretty like this, you thought, almost feeling a tinge of jealousy.
“P-please don’t stop,”
Tate stuttered pitifully. He was so hard that he was practically splitting his jeans as you resumed your grinding back and forth on his erection. He panted your name into the crook of your neck, breath hot and ragged against your bare skin.
You dragged your nails down his neck and grasped at his shoulders. Dipping your head downward, you nipped gently at the skin on his collarbone. He gasped; a soft exhale of air. You smirked against his neck and did it again, enjoying the little whimpers that you pulled from his lips.
“Fuck, you feel so good-”
You responded by pressing your breasts against his sternum and was rewarded with another breathy moan. In return, Tate bucked his hips upward and found a spot that made you cry out. The fabric of your underwear rubbed against your clit, and you could feel your panties dampening with arousal, seeping through the pair of tights you were wearing.
His mind was a euphoric haze; a sensory overload as he felt a multitude of sensations all at once: your tongue and teeth grazing his skin, your tits bouncing up and down his chest, the delicious heat radiating from your pussy as the two of you moved in sync. He was perilously close; the stickiness in his boxers was a clear indication that at any second he was going cream his pants.
“Nnghh- Oh shit. shitshitshit I think I’m gonna-” Tate groaned, humping against you without abandon. Smiling softly, you swiped away the tears from his face with your thumb.
“It’s okay, Tate. Let go.”
That was all the further encouragement Tate needed. Fumbling clumsily with the zipper, he yanked open his fly and jerked down his boxers to allow his throbbing cock to spring free.
He came with a hoarse shout, spurting out milky white rivulets of release. You watched in awe, at the sticky mess splattered across his abdomen. You had made that happen. It felt kind of surreal.
“Wow.. that was.. intense.” You marveled. Tate smiled up at you, chest heaving and starry-eyed. He pulled you close and kissed the side of your cheek.
“Yeah,”
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A/N: thank you for reading! english is not my first language, if you spot any grammatical / spelling errors, please do not hesitate to let me know :)
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tagging: @slvt4jamesmarch @kaismanwich @maddaline @evpeters87 @lacucarachapisser @loveletter-inblood @howtobesasha
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© fear-is-truth 2024 — do not plagiarise, modify, translate my work, or i will be under your bed
☉☾☾☾
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gffa · 5 months
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Over the last week, I decided to go ahead with bookmarking all the fics I've recommended over the years on AO3 since I abide by tumblr poll results always (and man pour one out for all the fic that never made it to AO3 or has since been deleted, sooooo many gems lost to time!) and it was a bit more than the ~3,000 I was expecting:
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Hopefully, this will be easier than browsing the hundreds of recs posts I've made, since you can filter for any of the author's tags now! These are mostly focused on Star Wars and DC fandom, but I did my time in the anime mines and occasional tours through some TV fandoms or movies. You can dig into everything unfiltered and start your own filtering, or the bigger fandoms you'll find:
MAJOR FANDOMS: Each of these should have 100+ at minimum and, in the case of Star Wars, literally almost half of them are in that fandom. Look, Star Wars fandom might be a trash fire in a lot of ways, but it is ON FIRE with some good fic. (Older bookmarks not guaranteed to match my current sentiments, especially re: the Jedi, but they did catch my fancy at that point in time!)
STAR WARS: - All Star Wars -OR- All Star Wars minus the Obi-Wan/Anakin ship - OR- Nothing BUT Obi-Wan/Anakin
BATMAN/DC: - DC can sometimes be tricky, but you can do a Batman* search and get most of them (though, sometimes Nightwing* or Young Justice* or Superman* will catch some of the others). Honestly, though, you might want to just do a search for what character or dynamic you like and have fun from there, because otherwise you're getting a face full of my Dick Grayson Is The Center Of The Universe And I'm Making That Everyone Else's Problem agenda. ;)
MARVEL/MCU: - Marvel* will probably get most of the various properties, though you may want to filter for Defenders* or Guardians of the Galaxy* if you're interested -OR- Marvel* without the Thor/Loki - These focus a lot on the Thor* fandom if you want to witness the results of like 8 years of constant voracious reading in that fandom (Minus the ship), because, seriously, I read a LOT of Odinson family fic. - Bonus, just do a search for Maximoff* to find some really good X-Men: First Class-verse because, listen, I have been ALL ABOUT the Maximoff twins since long before the movies or MCU brought them over and I will DIE ON THE HILL of "Marvel, make Magneto their bio-dad again or I'm never reading another comic of yours ever".
TOLKIEN/LORD OF THE RINGS/SILMARILLION/HOBBIT: - Tolkien* -OR- Hobbit* -OR- Lord of the Rings* searches will turn up most of my Elf-hunting, I primarily focus on the Sindar Elves, but look I can't resist my problematic Feanorian faves or that I will die on the hill that Fingolfin is the best ever. (You have NO IDEA how sad I am that so much fic on Stories of Arda or FFNET is not easily bookmarked on AO3, sob. I externally bookmarked a few of the bigger ones, but sooo many shorter faves are missing from my recs tag.)
CLAMP: - X/Tokyo Babylon legitimately bums me out because it's not a huge fandom and yet so much of what was written was pre-AO3 and lost when CLAMPesque went down or was never brought over from Livejournal, yet this fandom (well, the Seishirou/Subaru pairing) still burns brightly in my heart.
MINOR FANDOMS: Ones that probably only have under 100 bookmarks (often around the 20-30 bookmarks range), but will at least give you a place to start! ANIME/MANGA: Bleach | Cardcaptor Sakura | Dragonball | Finder no Hyouteki/Viewfinder | Katekyou Hitman Reborn! | Kuroko no Basuke | One Piece | Sailor Moon | Madoka Magica | Naruto | Princess Tutu | Trigun | Weiss Kreuz | Yuri!!! on Ice
BOOKS: Chrestomanci | Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint
DRAMAS: Nirvana in Fire | The Untamed -OR- Modao Zu Shi
TV SHOWS/MOVIES: Community | Game of Thrones -OR- ASOIAF | Good Omens | Hannibal | Highlander | The Old Guard | Our Flag Means Death | Stranger Things
VIDEO GAMES: Dragon Age: Inquisition | Final Fantasy 8 | Genshin Impact | Okami
BANDS: Arashi
All right, whew, that was actually a fun project, despite how much work it was to hunt down a lot of older faves to see if they were on AO3, hopefully you'll find this useful!
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welcometothejianghu · 4 months
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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 少年歌行/The Blood of Youth
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The Blood of Youth is a 2022 live-action adaptation of the tale of a deposed, disabled, and incredibly cunty prince who's on his way back to settle the score with his asshole father, and the rag-tag band of weirdos he accumulates along the way, including Spear Girl, Bad Monk, and Fire Puppy (pictured above).
I hope you like shounen anime, because this is the most shounen anime something is allowed to be without actually being based on something running weekly in Shounen Jump. What if Nirvana in Fire were also Naruto? It would be the Blood of Youth.
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This show is an underrated gem of action-packed fun that not nearly enough people in English-speaking fandom have seen. In an attempt to correct that -- and ahead of an announced second season and prequel in progress -- I'm here with five reasons you should try it out.
1. Zero thoughts head empty
You do not have to pay an enormous amount of attention to this show to understand what's going on. The show itself does not always know what's going on. It got distracted by a shiny object over there, and now we're all gearing up to go punch the shiny object. We'll get back to the main plot when we're done with the punching.
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It has a million billion plot threads going on at any given moment. Bad guys roll in from sects you've never heard of before, using superpowers with stupid names, only to get kicked into next week. There's approximately eleventy thousand characters -- so many, in fact, that I ran into problems several times while making this rec post, because there aren't readily available photos of everyone I want to talk about. Just look at the DramaWiki cast list. See how it goes on for like fifty screens? That's a little what the show feels like.
Except I'm not saying that like it's a bad thing, because the show knows it's doing this, and it acts accordingly. It telegraphs pretty well who's important and who isn't (and then it goes out of its way to color-code the latter, which is handy). What you're left with is absolutely a manga-style plot, complete with training arcs and semi-relevant sidequests, all working up to the final boss match.
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It is an extremely self-aware show. On multiple occasions, something would happen, I would crack a joke about it, and then a beat later the show itself would make the exact same joke. I wouldn't call it an outright comedy, but it's still very funny, and on purpose. It has no illusions about being some kind of profound, meaningful epic. Mostly it's just here for a good time.
Yet this lightheartedness is what makes the powerful emotional parts really powerful by contrast. The show is not stupid; it's just goofing around most of the time. When it knuckles down, it can be devastating. And you know what? It does wind up being profound and meaningful about some stuff. How about that.
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So yeah, if you're up for something that bops merrily right along and only occasionally rips your heart out, here you go!
2. Putting the poly in polycule
Bisexuals, rejoice! It's representin' time!
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Here you go, I made a relationship chart of about 40% of the show's potential and canonical ships. I could have included so many more, but I only had so much space on the image, so I had to leave out some amazing ones, like the sword hedgehog who's real into this one cougar who could easily wipe the floor with him, or the rich nerd who thinks he has a chance with the aforementioned hot butch, or the fancy MILF who cheated on the emperor with a dreamy jianghu man and is trying not to cheat on him again with a different, slightly less dreamy jianghu man. See? There's just so much.
I would also say these are not exclusive ships. They are extremely inclusive ships. I am a fan of most (though admittedly not all) of the pairings listed here, and in fact of many of the three-and-more-somes indicated by these lines. They're such a cuddle puddle of shared intense feelings that it's hard to imagine anyone getting more than mildly jealous. Moreover, the potential for romance does not get in the way of hetero friendships; a boy and a girl who are each dating other people can go do adventures together, and (mostly) nobody gets weird about it, which is nice. If anything, what makes the overall dynamic so polycule-like is how equally friends and love interests get treated, meaning that it's not difficult to see a lot of crossover potential between those two categories.
If you're like me, you're hesitant about canonical romance, especially when it's straight, mostly because so many straight love stories wind up being tiresome, gross, and/or skull-poundingly boring. You will then be pleasantly surprised by how the canon pairings with members of the main cast are not like this at all!
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Xiao Se and Sikong Qianluo are the main textual romance, and golly gee, they're just cute as heck. As the chart above indicates, I like interpreting them as two Kinsey 6's who have found their single exceptions, Mulder-and-Scully-style. Maybe one of the best things about their relationship is that it gets sidelined all the time for the plot. They're not so busy being in love that they forget to get shit done. Then they get a bit of downtime and get to go on a date, and you're like, aww, those sweet gay disaster babies are gonna do a little bit of heterosexuality. Just precious.
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Tang Lian and Fairy Rui are right up there with the cuteness. She's a sex-positive dancing beauty who wants to ride that pretty boy like she stole him, and he's a shy sword boy so tightly bottled up that he'll explode if he sees a bare ankle. Avoiding spoilers, I will simply say that this is a pairing of two relatively soft people, until a bad thing happens to one of them and the other hardens up about it. If that's your jam, they're here for you.
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Lei Wujie and Ye Ruoye are probably the most magical and the most practical of the bunch. They have a beautiful, super-dreamy, really horny sword-dance meet-cute, complete with its own pop song ... and then that's it, they're basically just together. She likes him, he likes her, good for them. In-laws aside, it's a refreshingly low-drama situation. Besides, I always love it when the hypercompetent woman gets the sweet, devoted himbo who'd do anything for her. Ruoye's had a hard life, and she deserves someone who can dick her down good at night and make her a nourishing breakfast the next morning.
And then there is, of course, The Ship:
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Xiao Se and Wuxin are canonical, textual soulmates. The show treats their dynamic as more important than any other. It's so important, in fact, that the show has to sideline Wuxin for huge parts of the drama, lest everything get too damn gay. They each get a boyfriend catch on the other. They both do fairly reckless things when the other is in trouble. They are the secret hidden happy ending to the series. They share the kind of ride-or-die relationship built on mutually being the hugest bitches in any given room. Whether or not you think this is romance, it is extremely romantic, and the series agrees as much as it can, all things considered.
And if none of those flavors of love float your boat? Well, have you considered ... eunuchs?
3. She likes e4e
So I'm on record as being real into eunuch characters, right? Well, if you're with me on that, you are in for a treat here, because these are some absolutely buck-wild eunuchs.
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There's five main ones, and I can't even begin to scratch the surface of what's going there. Like, really, I don't even think I understood all of what was happening with them. They're kind of the bad guys, but then they're kind of the good guys, but then some of them are the bad guys, but then they're just working for the bad guys, but then they screw over the bad guys, and ... it's just a lot, okay? It's a lot, and it's all happening with this bunch of catty bitches.
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Also, you would not believe the difficult time I had finding any images for this section. I guess for some reason, fandom isn't way into a bunch of canonically dickless color-coordinated middle-aged men in weird hats? Whatever, man, they are missing out. If, however, you have the good sense to be into the intense and complicated (semi-romantic??) relationships among colleagues who also professionally just happen to be missing their external genitalia, buddy, strap in (and maybe strap on, depending).
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Don't let me oversell how much these guys are in the show. They're not. They're vaguely important at points throughout, and they become incredibly important near the end, but they're hardly main characters. They're mostly back at the palace, doing their various schemes and looking absolutely fantastic.
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So if they're such a minor part of the story, why do they get their own selling point? Well, I think their presence is a good example of two specific things about the show:
Specific thing the first: It's so queer -- not gay, but queer. Thinking back to my last selling point, you will notice how many of those straight pairings may look normie on the outside, but once you get down to it are not playing by cishet rules. (For instance, I've seen a lot of people read Tang Lian's resistance to sexual advances as asexuality, which, sure!) Likewise, there are lots of incredibly important, intimate relationships that don't conform to standard romantic pair dynamics. Add to that a lot of bodies with unusual characteristics and conditions, and you've got the makings of plenty of delightful non-normative love stories.
Specific thing the second: There are so many things going on with so many side characters that there's a kink here for everyone. Don't care for eunuchs? How about slinky villains with mind-control powers? Devoted servants who would do anything for their masters? Former bad guys who owe life-debts to the good guys who saved them? Bonded pairs traipsing around the jianghu together? Sons nursing legitimate grudges against the men who killed their fathers? Alcoholic widowers with incredibly slutty necklines? Mysterious cross-dressers with unconvincing moustaches? Vengeful brides? Martial siblings? Murderous royals? Guilt-ridden half-siblings? Boring star-crossed lovers? All these and more! It's a smorgasbord of rarepair fuel!
Also, I just love these toxic drama queens. It's like if RuPaul's Drag Race had the authority to have you executed.
4. The most intriguing outfits I've ever seen in anything (and yes, I'm including Winter Begonia)
Time for a fashion show!
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The asymmetrical fits, the detailed embroidery on everything, the brilliant colors -- everybody just looks so good. And yet everything still looks ... eh, I don't know if "practical" is the word I want, but at least wearable. Nobody's dragging ten-foot trains of fabric behind them or wrapped in eighty floofy layers of gauze (except Rui, but she's special). Their outfits are strange and elaborate, but they don't defy physics.
What's truly stunning is how often they get new outfits. Xiao Se alone changes clothes about once every other episode, and more if he's getting a flashback. He is the fashion plate of the whole series, and every look he serves is pitch-perfect.
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They're not outright color-coded, but the main characters do have certain colors associated with them -- which is extra-fun when you watch those colors bleeding into their friends' clothes as their relationships get stronger. I also think -- and I'm willing to be proven wrong on this point, but I think I'm right -- that they recycle some characters' outfits into parts of other characters' outfits. On more than one occasion, I'd swear that Lei Wujie shows up wearing the left half of something Xiao Se was wearing a few episodes back (tailored to fit him, of course, because that dumb ponytail boy is tall).
Where I think the costume design gets massive points, though, is that the costumes are themselves adaptations.
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Before the live-action series, there was a 2018 3D animated donghua. I have never watched the latter, but apparently the drama is intensely faithful to the animated visuals, to the point where some fights are shot-for-shot remakes.
Of course, you can do a lot more with unreal clothing and bodies in animation -- and you can show a lot more skin, at least according to Chinese content laws. The live-action costumers chose to preserve about as many of the appearance beats from the donghua as they could manage, while still accepting the limitations of real-life bodies and materials. You can see some side-by-side comparisons here. The live-action outfits manage to be instantly recognizable without being slavishly devoted recreating to their inspirations.
So if you're sick and tired of dreary, ill-lit shows with bland palettes, this vibrant, colorful drama may be just the thing for you. It's a rainbow from start to finish.
5. Actually a good central plot?
Despite all the wacky delightful shounen nonsense that this show has -- and it has a lot -- the core of the whole narrative, which is Xiao Se's story, is surprisingly great and cohesive.
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The short version is this: Xiao Se used to be Xiao Chuhe, sixth prince and somewhat heir apparent. Then he and his jerk-ass dad had a falling-out that resulted in the prince's having his martial arts abilities all but taken from him. He's been living the life of a very well-dressed innkeeper for several years, trying to avoid all of that palace garbage. But now his jerk-ass dad is dying, which means that a lot of horrible decisions are finally having unfortunate consequences for everyone, and Xiao Se's got to get back in there to make sure everything does not go to shit and land someone terrible on the throne -- even if it has to mean taking it himself.
His central conflict is between what he used to be and what he's become. Does he miss being Xiao Chuhe, high-ranked martial artist and future emperor? Or is he happier being Xiao Se, long-suffering nobody who can barely run a business, much less hold his own in a fight? What would he be willing to do to get back what he's lost? What are his obligations to himself versus his obligations to everyone else? How much is he responsible for his father's bullshit? And why has he wound up having to babysit this stupid Fire Puppy?
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It's okay, they're best friends now. Lei Wujie decided.
No spoilers, but I liked Xiao Se's ending a lot. I feel it's very true to the character and shows a real understanding of who he is and what he values. And really, at the end of the day, sometimes all you need for a happy ending is your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend who's also your boyfriend, your other boyfriend, his girlfriend, and your long-distance for-real soulmate.
Feel like giving the youths a try?
You can find them on YouTube or on Viki. But be absolutely sure that no matter where you watch it, you make sure to go watch the epilogue as well. (And if you get real into the story, well, here's a link to information about all the other adaptations.)
You are also welcome for how I did not spend this post going off for five hundred years on how much I love Wuxin and his funky relationship to Buddhism. I figured that's way too niche of a selling point for most people, and might indeed have even been counterproductive. But know that I could have.
Also, I'm very happy about the announcement of a second season, because that's going to mean Liu Xueyi has to shave his head again, and he looks unbearably good with a shaved head.
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Oh yeah, did I forget to mention the whole motorcycle photoshoot?
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In case you hadn't noticed, the whole cast is stupidly hot. Hachi machi.
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synthshenanigans · 2 months
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hey so remember how I made color palettes based on the TMPH? well all the songs are out now so here's a crap ton of color palettes based on all the Power Hours!! :D
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I might use em myself but if anyone else uses them, please tag me in your post!!! I'd love to see what you do with it :D
Also because I'm a nerd & I like explaining things, where I got the names for them are below if anyone curious bout them :}
TMPH:
Page one is more obvious; it just being the song title. The second page is named with Acts like how the first three songs were titled [both in CJs & in the original]. The entire acts all together is named Ego, hence the bottom being named Ego. And then all of the Ego/Acts together spell C.A.N. & as CJ said in the Directors Commentary, it funnily enough matches with his old YouTube channel name "Can of Soup" [or DJ soup I think it is now].
THDPH:
There aren't as many palettes since there wasn't much I could grab from sadly. But the names are more creative at least.
•Pocket Aces- Shutup Your Stupid: "Maybe I'll shoot my shot at one of those handsome faces. Have a couple drinks, make my stance advantageous; play my pair of Pocket Aces"
•Kismet's Call- Evl Ppl: "Our habits and our rituals aren't half as stacked as Kismet's Call"
•Coloring & Additives- Savages: "Savages! Who work with ratios and averages; Governments, establishments, Coloring and Additives"
•Course & Rough- A Drink to Death: "We were nice, but now I'm Coarse and Rough"
•Casa Infierno- Chonny's Inferno: "Perhaps a snack or beverage, on the house, from Casa Infierno"
•Unintentional Impression- Shutup Your Stupid: "He does his best Impression of me, says it came out 'Unintentionally' "
WWPH-
First page is again just the song titles. Page two is lines from some of the songs [Top two are Laplace's Angel & the bottom two are Memento Mori]. And page three is from the lyric "Heaven. Hell. Nirvana. Nothing. No one knows how it ends" from Memento Mori.
CJPH-
First three on page two are just song titles [Push should technically be labeled Don't Take it Personally but I named it wrong & only realized till just now 🙃. But oh well its too late now]. The bottom two are words from The Lie of Black and White.
•Misery: " 'Every moment I wait substantiates my Misery' "
•Melody: "Every person on Earth deserves to sing their Melody"
Page two is all for Push [or what should have been Push but i fucked up lol]. Streamers are colors from the party streamers on him. Makeup is the colors he used for his makeup [as best I can tell]. And Charcoal is for the charcoal soap goop on him. Buuuuut lets pretend it based on the line "My wrist and my heart where you kissed, pulled apart till it burns like Charcoal" from DTiP. Just so I feel less like an idiot.
Maybe ill post what photos I got the colors from if I feel like it. But if anyone's curious on a specific one, you can send an ask or smth & I'll gladly tell you :}
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i-smoke-chapstick · 2 months
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Hi! Can I please have Zsasz from Gotham with a reader who is like his partner in crime and kills with him and stuff? Thanks
‘IN BLOOM,
-GOTHAM!VICTOR ZSASZ X READER-
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⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; you just might be his favorite girl.
⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!victor x female reader. wrote hcs! readers a bad bitch. victor and reader being partners in crime. victor becoming obsessive after like, 5 seconds. Might write a part two to this ahh
♫ “And he likes to sing along / And he likes to shoot his gun” In Bloom by Nirvana
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⋆ Oh, he didn't know it was possible to be so head-over-heels. Victor is self-aware to a fault, he knows when he's being a bit of a creep. And with you? It's as if all his deepest sadistic urges are brought to a front. And he gets drunk on it.
⋆ He has a cold heart, naturally. Not a fan of getting attached to people, especially those who may become a future target. And god knows he doesn't like competition, either. Which is why discovering you was a revelation; that he could for one even like someone so close in his ball game.
⋆ There had been plenty of whispers about you in the streets of gotham. He didn't care much. The only thing he should care about was who Falcone ordered him to kill next.
⋆ But, alas, when he heard the growing commotion about "Y/N, gothams most dangerous hitman," he got a bit...irked.
⋆ What the hell? Isn't he gothams most dangerous hitman?
⋆ Victor takes great pride in his work, and in his title. He knows he has exceptional talent and even greater work ethic. So why is this woman threatening him?!?
⋆ So, he decided to pay you a little visit.
⋆ For gothams newest most dangerous hitman, you certainly have a way of making things easy.
⋆ He found your apartment in no time, gladly making the place his own. It was surprisingly ordinary, pictures of you and friends littering the wall. It was your collection of guns that made him stop in his tracks. He analyzed the wall with great fascination, silently gazing at an assault rifle. His gloved hands danced over the barrel, making it his own. He let out a low wolf whistle as he peered down it's scope.
⋆ "It's an AR-70." A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. It was the first time someone had managed to sneak up on him, not the other way around.
⋆ It took every fiber of his body to remain stoic.
⋆ He turned to face you, the owner of the weapon. Victor glanced at the gun being referred to and nodded his head slowly, still looking at your face. His confidence returned to him easily.
⋆ "Hot-damn. Some top-notch stuff you got here." His voice was slow, and his gaze returned to the wall. He dragged his finger along some of the firearms hung up, before turning to you once more.
⋆ "Should really make yourself harder to find if you're going to be in the business. It's unprofessional, you know?" He cocked his head and gave you a fake grimace. You just smiled.
⋆ "And what does Victor Zsasz want with me? You on your bosses orders?
⋆ "Nah." He responds, casual. "I only wanted to meet you in person, just to know who you are. Check you out. Don't worry about it, you're not on my list," He clicked his tongue. "yet." He finishes, as he toys with the gun from the rack, checking its quality.
⋆ "You like the rifle?" You study him, head to toe. His trigger finger expertly dancing along the weapon.
⋆ Without turning his head, he answers you. "I do, but I prefer my handguns." You hear the click of him checking to see if the gun is loaded.
⋆ You hum. "To each there own. You want it?"
⋆ This takes him by surprise, and he finally tears his gaze away. You've piqued his interest even more now.
⋆ "...For real?" He narrows his eyes on you. "...You're just gonna, what, let me keep it?"
⋆ "Why not? I got plenty." You nod towards the wall, biting your lip. His eyes glance at your mouth.
⋆ You catch him off guard. He actually seems amused by you. Maybe it's your attitude that's rubbing off on him. A few moments pass then he shrugs. You can't read his expression but his body language speaks volumes.
⋆ "...Yeah, I'll take it."
⋆ "Ah ah ah..." You whisper, taking a step closer. He still clutches the gun in his hand while he feels your own rub over his leather-clad arms. He keeps eye contact with you, mouth slightly agape. "On one condition." You continue.
⋆ He perks up and looks at you curiously. His eyebrows raise, ready to hear you out.
⋆ "Invite me to your next hit. We can double team it, or something. I dunno," You pause, looking up at him. "Would be an honor to kill with you, Victor Zsasz." You whisper into his ear, only moving back when you're done.
⋆ Your proposal actually made him laugh. You see him crack a smile as he looks away from you for a second. Look at you, he thinks. Coming by, kissing the ring. He can admire the respect.
⋆ "Quite the character, aren't you?" He pauses, "I've got a job to do tomorrow, wanna tag-along? It's gonna be an easy one, I won't go too hard on you."
⋆ You both feel the corners of your mouth twitch at this, in anticipation. This is where the seeds of obsession first blossom for him. Oh, he likes you.
⋆ When he finally leaves, he feels like a kid in a candy store. New rifle in hand, and your phone number elegantly typed into his own. He forgets all about his previous misgivings with you.
⋆ You on the other hand are left smiling, for a sociopathic sadist, he is real fucking cute.
⋆ The closest way into a mans heart is with a gun. You chuckle.
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avocado-writing · 2 years
Text
Strange Bedfellows
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AND THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED Tangerine x Reader
Rated E, NSFT, MINORS DNI
3k words
Tagging: @honestlywtfisgoingon​​ @white-wolf-buckaroo​ @felhomaly @sinfulrefugy​ @venusthepirate​@lunarpansexual @wanderedaway​y @georgiee-riviere​​ @mushywutty​​ (thank u bullet-train-2022 for the gif!)
God, you hate him. 
You fucking hate him.
He’s arrogant, he’s vain, and you want to rip that stupid moustache off of his face and stamp on it. And there he is, fixing his hair in the sun visor. Calm as anything. 
“You alright back there?”
Lemon’s voice knocks you out of your silent, furious staring. You manage a wan smile. 
“Yeah, sorry.”
Tangerine’s attention is on you now, his smug look reflected back without even having to turn. 
“Take a picture, darling. It’ll last longer.”
You hate him. You’re seething, not swooning. 
You’re not sure exactly when this feeling of abject hatred manifested, but it was probably the first time you met him. You didn’t like to be paired up with people but your handler had told you it was a three-man job. So you were put with the twins. You like Lemon. He’s professional, to the point. 
But every time you catch Tangerine grooming himself on any reflective surface you feel anger bubble up inside you. He’s like a fucking budgerigar. 
It’s late by the time Lemon pulls into the carpark outside of the hotel. It’s only one of those shitty chain ones, but at the moment it looks like nirvana. You’re exhausted. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been on your feet since five this morning. You hate tailing jobs, perhaps even more than you hate the third person in this car. You prefer the ‘wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am’ sort of gigs where you just walk into a room and kill every fucker there. But no. Today you were stuck following thirty feet behind a mark for hours on end before you finally found the place you needed.
The actual non-walking part of the job had only taken about twenty minutes. Then you had to wipe yourselves down enough to walk back out onto the street looking presentable, and that took ages as well; blood has an annoying habit of getting everywhere. Especially when it’s not your own.
All you really want to do is hop into a shower and then a bed, get a solid eight hours, and head home. 
You’ve been so lost in your own thoughts you don’t realise Tangerine’s been holding your passenger seat door open for you. You frown.
“I can open my own bloody door.”
“Suit yourself then,” he sniffs, slamming it in your face. You take a moment to swallow your rage and open it once more, throwing Lemon a can you believe this? look. He shrugs. Lemon has been very clear about not wanting to get in the middle of your little squabbles. Grumpily you have no choice but to grab your overnight bag from the boot like they’ve done, and follow. Lemon locks the car and falls into line behind his brother. 
The receptionist smiles as you walk into the hotel foyer. Ambient music is playing, as if pleasant tunes will cover up the fact that the place is somewhat desperately in need of a renovation. You and Tangerine stand on opposite sides of the room as Lemon deals with the check-in, preoccupying yourselves with not looking at each other. 
Meaning you overhear the conversation at the desk.
“Alright, we have you down for two rooms,” the receptionist says.
Your blood runs cold. Both you and Tangerine snap to face her.
“No, that should be three,” Lemon says. The receptionist looks confused, checks her computer. 
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. Only two rooms are on this reservation.”
“That’s fine, can we add a third onto that then?”
The receptionist swallows.
“I’m afraid we’re fully booked tonight, sir.”
Lemon sighs, irritated, but keeps his cool. He might be a hired killer but he’s not the type of man who’d be rude to a customer service worker.
“Alright, we’ll make it work. Thank you,” he says, grabbing a couple of the little complimentary mints from the bowl on the desk.
You and Tangerine practically swarm Lemon, hands out ready to get a set of room keys. He looks between you and holds out a single bunch to you both.
“No,” you say quietly, knowing what he wants. 
“Well, I don’t share rooms,” Lemon informs you with a shrug. “Plus, I’ve not slept in the same room as him since I was seven, and I’m not doing it again as an adult.”
Tangerine sighs loudly, takes the keys from his brother. Lemon smiles.
“Thought so,” he says, turns, and heads off. 
You open your mouth to say something to Tangerine. He holds up his hand, stopping you before you can start.
“It’s one night. Are you really gonna cause a problem for this lovely receptionist over here?”
He nods in her direction. The receptionist is staring with pleading eyes.
You groan. No. You can share a room for one night. You probably won’t even have to talk to each other, just get in beds on opposite sides of the room and do your own thing. 
Tangerine watches you relent. 
“Alright. Fine. What room are we in?”
“‘Atta girl,” he says, and you want to shove the bowl of mints so far down his throat he chokes on them, but smells lovely doing it.
You follow him silently up the stairwell, letting him lead you to the prison you’re about to be trapped in for the next few hours with him.
Tangerine slides the key into the lock, turns it. The door opens with a loud creak and the two of you are met with the same, mortifying sight.
One bed. A double. It sits in the middle of the room as innocent as anything. Perfectly made up and invitingly comfortable.
“Oh, absolutely fucking not,” you state.
Tangerine lets out a long, long sigh, and walks in anyway.
“Are you serious? You really want to share a bed?”
“Well, not like we have much of a fucking choice, do we? Unless you want to take the floor, but I’m not doing that to save your pride.”
He puts his bag heavily on the right side of the bed with a sense of finality, and starts rummaging through it. 
You don’t want to share the bed. But you don’t want to prove him right about your pride, either. 
When he next looks up, the door is shut, and you’re looking through your own bag, grabbing your pyjamas and toothbrush.
“Do you want first dibs on the shower?” he asks.
“Yes,” you reply, quickly, and dart into the bathroom. Mostly it’s so that you don’t have to face him any more and you can nurse your wounded ego. 
You strip and climb into the shower cubicle, relieved to find the jet is powerful. You get to using the hotel shampoo to wash your hair. It smells vaguely of apples and does a decent job of getting all the blood out that you didn’t get out earlier. The water swirls red around your feet, then pink, then eventually clear again. 
You’re not quite sure how long you spend there, ridding yourself of the day’s activities, but by the time you turn the shower off you’ve calmed down about the situation.
It’s just one night. The two of you can sleep back-to-back and never speak of it again. Though, with that being said, he probably won’t let it go - you can just see him teasing you about this for the rest of time.
Better beg your handler not to put you on a mission with the Twins again, then. Ever. 
There are a pair of well-used but clean bath towels hanging up. You pick the slightly nicer one and dry yourself off, before brushing your teeth and getting into your pyjamas. 
Tangerine is sitting up against the headboard, a book open in his lap. He raises an eyebrow.
“What?” you snip, feeling your anger growing again.
“Just looking at your pyjamas.”
“What’s wrong with my pyjamas?”
“Oh, nothing. They’re very… sweet.”
Alright, fine. Maybe they’re a cheap and cheerful pair you picked up from the supermarket clothes aisle, and maybe they have a picture of a sleepy kitten on the front. You didn’t expect anyone to fucking see them, did you?
Seeing he’s riled you up Tangerine grins, stands, and heads into the bathroom himself. You fling your dirty clothes into your bag and set about the business of drying your hair. It’s enough time for you to get your temper in check again, and you’re almost calm by the time he walks back into the bedroom.
He’s not wearing a shirt.
He’s not wearing a fucking shirt.
He’s wearing PJ bottoms, yeah, and they look expensive - probably silk or something. But he’s decided against the other half of the set. And good lord, you didn’t quite realise how chiselled the man is. 
You quickly look up at his face, trying to make sure he doesn't catch you staring.
“Aren’t you going to cover up?”
“Nope. Don’t sleep with a shirt on, love.”
Yeah, of course he doesn’t. You don’t let yourself be baited into an argument. Instead you climb into your half of the bed, lie as close to the edge as you can without falling out, and turn off your lamp.
You feel Tangerine climb in next to you. The bed dips a little, but you stay put.
There’s a beat.
“I’m going to read. Is the light going to bother you?”
You try to listen for any teasing when he speaks, but don’t hear any. He might just be… asking you a question.
“No. That’s fine,” you reply, eventually. 
He’s warm. Even though you’ve contorted your body to make sure the two of you don’t touch, you can still feel the heat coming off of him in spades. It’s quite nice actually. It’s a cold night and he’s like a hot water bottle. 
Not that you’d ever, ever admit that to him. 
And then there’s just the sound of breathing. The sound of breathing, and the solid feeling of him in the bed with you. You’re not sure when the last time you shared a bed with another person is. A long time. You don’t have a partner, don’t have time for that. And you’re not really a one-night-stand sort of person either. But it’s sort of comforting to have someone so close to you. You could get used to it.
You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Tangerine is calling you until he’s already said your name three times.
“Hmm?”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Oh, shit.”
You sit up quickly, checking yourself over. Tangerine takes your arm in his hand and lifts it, showing you where you’ve received a wound on your bicep.
“Fuck. A bullet must have clipped me,” you sigh. You remember a couple of close calls today, but thought you’d scraped by. Clearly you were wrong.
“Hang on,” Tangerine says. He puts his book down on his side table and heads into the bathroom. When he returns, he has a first aid kit and a loo roll.
“Clean yourself up, and I’ll dress it,” he says, handing the latter to you. You spend a moment daubing at the blood, trying to stem the flow.
Then he begins to bandage you.
His hands are surprisingly gentle. You silently watch as he dresses your wound, pressing the sterile pad to it before securing it in place. His face is relaxed in the low light, concentrating.
He’s quite handsome.
“Thank you,” you say, eventually. 
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ve been on the receiving end of a gunshot myself. Nasty business.”
He looks up, meets your eyes. His are so, so blue.
“So, are you gonna tell me why you hate me so much?”
He doesn’t sound upset about it, like there’s any animosity behind his question. More than anything he just seems curious. 
You don’t really want to tell him. You don’t want to tell him that, actually, you don’t really mind how often he checks his appearance, because he always looks so good. That it’s fine when he’s a bit arrogant because it makes you laugh. That he’s a killer shot, a competent ally, and a brilliant person to have on your side in a fight.
That, actually, if you scrutinised your feelings closely enough, you’d find that you don’t hate him at all. And if you accept that, you open yourself up to a world of hurt if anything happens to either of you.
“Because,” you say, after a long while, “if I don’t hate you, I’m going to do the opposite, Tangerine.”
He seems surprised. His hand, which was at your arm, lifts to your face. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.
When he kisses you, you don’t pull back.
It’s soft, actually. Gentle. His moustache tickles a little bit. 
“I don’t hate you either, love.”
The next kiss is a lot firmer. You slide your arms around his neck, pull yourself into his lap. His hands come to settle on your hips. At first they just sit there, but when he feels your tongue slide over his bottom lip he lets his hold get a bit rougher. Digs his fingertips into your skin to keep you in place.
“Tangerine,” you moan, and hate yourself for it. This man is making you moan the word ‘Tangerine’. You feel ridiculous.
But, clearly, it works for him, because then he’s shifting to lay you back on the bed, pressing one strong leg between yours. His thigh grinds into your cunt over your pyjamas and you gasp, not realising how embarrassingly wet you’ve become from a just kiss. 
“God, I’ve always wanted to tell you how gorgeous you are,” he groans, moving his lips from your mouth to your neck, running his teeth over your sensitive skin. The tiny touch of bite makes you buck up, rubbing your clit against his leg. You gasp, everything beginning to overwhelm you. Every sense is him. The smell of tobacco on him, the taste of the toothpaste from his mouth, the feeling of him pressing you down into the mattress.
A hand reaches up your shirt to palm your breast, squeezing you on the pleasing side of hard. You meet the touch like-for-like, running your fingers down his pectoral, delighting in just how solid it is. This man is a fucking slab of muscle, and he hides it all under his designer suits.
But now? Now, it’s all yours.
Tangerine peppers kisses down your sternum, over your stomach. When you feel his hands at your waistband you lift your hips to let him slide your pyjamas down and off your legs.
He slides you open with his thumbs, running one of them over you to feel the wetness gathered there.
“Gorgeous,” he reiterates, pressing his mouth to you. You groan and throw your head back, sinking your grip into the crisp white bed sheets. His tongue is hot as it slides between your folds. He relishes in tasting the effect he’s had on you.
He presses light sucks to your clit and you think you’re about to fucking jacknife off the bed. Instead, you bury your hands in his hair and pull him closer. Oh, his hair, his fucking hair. So long and well kept and perfectly grabbable. He growls as you tug, and you file that fun little fact away for later.
If there will be a later. Because, to be honest, with the way his tongue’s inside you right now, you’re spectacularly happy to make this a regular occurence.
He presses his face harder between your legs, desperate to chase your pleasure. He rolls his mouth up and down you, leaving long, languid strokes from your entrance to your clit. Every movement pushes you closer to the edge.
You come in his mouth, feeling your orgasm rush over you in waves.  
“That’s it,” he groans, fucking you with his tongue through it still, making the feeling almost unbearable. Stars cloud your vision, and you almost don’t notice when he pulls away, replacing his mouth with his cock. He rubs his head along you for a moment, coating himself in your slickness, before he begins to push inside you.
God, he’s big. You feel yourself being practically split open as he sinks into you. The stretch of his cock is almost orgasmic by itself, but it’s when you catch the way he’s looking at you that really takes your breath away.
Wide-eyed. Devotional. As if he’s trying to commit every detail of this to memory. As if your body is an altar and this is the way he worships it.
As he bottoms out inside you, fully sheathed, you wrap your arms around his neck once again and bring his lips to yours. Your tongues find each other again, moving together in languorous patterns, as he pulls his hips back and slams them home. Each hard thrust threatens to steal away your ability to breathe completely, letting you drown in the ocean of this moment. 
Your cunt is already overstimulated from the orgasm his mouth brought you. The slide of his cock in and out of you keeps you on that knife’s edge, each bump of him into that sweet spot buried deep inside. You come again and he fucks you even harder, the movement of his hips getting more erratic as he chases his own satiation.
You feel him release in hot jets inside you as he finally comes. You’ve never felt so full in your life.
The two of you collapse, still a tangle of limbs with him remaining inside you. The sweat of his skin sticks to yours. You run your hand up and down his back in affectionate little tickles. 
“I still can’t believe you don’t sleep with a shirt,” you mutter. Tangerine barks out a laugh, surprised, and then he’s kissing you again.
The next morning Lemon is already at breakfast. He looks over his coffee cup at the two of you, raising his eyebrows.
“Looks like you two slept well,” he states. 
“Yeah, eventually,” Tangerine agrees, and you choke on your tea.
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