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#I KNEW HE WAS AN INTERNATIONAL ICON
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I knew Micah wasn’t a great guy but I was a fool to think he had any redeeming traits.
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kissforyouu · 8 months
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pairing : jungook x reader
genre : smut , angst
warnings : against the car , in the car , oral sex ( f recieving ) , spanking , jealousy , ft. lil bit of taehyung ;) , toxic relationship , uses of words like "slut" (during sex) , exhibitionism (kinda) , teasing , unprotected sex
a/n : idk what this is but hope u enjoy LOL. and dont ask me why the name of this is woof woof woof idk either umm
.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・. .・゜゜・  ・゜゜・
Me and him were always on and off. Jeon Jungkook, I mean. Not the man I was currently on top of right now. That's Kim Taehyung. He was hot, very hot, and the fact that he was Jungkook's best friend made it even hotter. Taehyung knew me and Jungkook were something, whatever we called it. But at this moment, he did not give a single fuck.
His head was thrown back as his hands roamed under the silk material of my black mini dress, all over my ass. My clothed core was pressed against his crotch, grinding slowly. Hands tangled in Taehyung's messy locs, his tongue licks over the spot right under my ear. He nibbles and sucks on the spot gently, taking his time.
I continued moving my hips, begging for some more friction. I wanted something, but not skin to skin contact. Not with Taehyung. I had other plans.
A small moan slips past my lips as I grab Taehyung's wrist before placing it on my right breast. Taehyung's eyes flicker with excitement, his hands immediately squeezing both of my breasts tight. I could tell he was excited, to touch me and to hold me, too bad you weren't going to let him get his way. Didn't think Jungkook's so called best friend would be this unloyal.
I let out a small whine purposely into Taehyung's ear, pretending to be feeling something, as my hand slide into his pocket to pull out his phone. Laying back a bit, I look at Taehyung with puppy eyes, signalling him to unlock his phone. He raises his eyebrow at me, a little confused.
"Wan' to give Jungkook a show..." I tilt my head to the side, giving him my most seductive smile. Taehyung lets out a devilish laugh as he unlocks the phone. Men are so easy.
I place a kiss on his cheek as a thank you, my eyes scanning through his messenger app in search of Jungkook's chat. I find it, the corner of my lip curving into a smirk. I click on the small camera icon at the bottom of the chat, then pressing record.
Looking at the camera with my eyes big and glossy and the prettiest smile on my face, I then look down to Taehyung, who's face was now smothered in my tits. Cracking up my laugh, which I know Jungkook loves, I push Taehyung's face further into my tits. He wasn't even doing anything, why's he so boring.
You pretend to like it, arching my back more, fake moans escaping my mouth as I grind myself onto him. To make my man who'll be seeing this even madder, I make sure to moan Taehyung's name.
"Mmm, Taehyung!" it sounded so fake but that didn't matter. You knew Jungkook would recognise how fake that was anyway. All I wanted to do was to make Jungkook mad. For him to take me home after, then fuck the living shit out of me, then tell me he loves me and make up. And for then, not that I want it, but for this cycle to repeat because one of us just have to fuck up each time. But I didn't care, not one bit, I'd go back to him each and every time. And I know he would too.
Without wasting more time, I click send. It didn't take a second for Jungkook to view the message. Internally, I was giggling at sight of the two blue checkmarks. I almost forgot about the man beneath me.
you : [video]
jkkk🤘🏻: ???
rlly y/n? im omw, he better not be on ur fucking cunt when i get there.
My eyes beam at his reply. He's on his way. Please come quickly and get me away from this man. You let out a groan, way too bored. He was still on my tits, just touching them all over.
About 5 minutes of the same thing — yes, 5. You wonder if he's ever had a woman on his bed before — Jungkook comes crashing in. We were at a party, he knew where we were because you guess Taehyung must've told him where he'd be tonight, definitely not expecting to have me grinding on him. You watch Jungkook's eyes scan the party trying to find us, with your head resting on top of Taehyung's shoulders as he did whatever he did.
Jungkook looked so good. He had his shoulder length hair down, a black wife beater on, his pants hung low rise showing off his calvin klein boxers which I love with a black belt to hold it all together. And to add the cherry on top, he also had a thin silver chain dangling from his neck. Not just any chain, it was the I had gifted him. He was a walking snack, no wonder every woman turned their heads to look at him wherever he went. Too bad, he's mine.
Jungkook's eyes land on mine, then on the man I was on. His eyebrows furrowed, oh he was mad, his tongue poked his cheek as he walked towards us. In no time, he hand was on my arm, pulling me off of Taehyung.
"Really, Taehyung? My girl, out of everyone?" My girl. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I hear him yelling at Taehyung a few more words, but they all sound muffled to me. The only thing I could focus on was "my girl". If only he made it official. We've been boyfriend and girlfriend so many times, breaking up and getting back together. I don't care. I'd still do it. To be with him.
After spitting his last few words out, he turns his head to look at me, eyebrows still furrowed and mad.
"And you. Could've just fucking called me. Had to fuck my best friend to get my attention? Huh?"
He looked so mad, I loved it.
Jungkook's grip on my hand never leaves as he storms down through the crowd with me, leaving Taehyung all alone and frustrated. I grip onto his bicep as we walk down the stairs.
I sigh, breaking the silence.
"I missed you"
"Yeah, fucking right, Y/n. That's why you went and seduced my best friend?"
I sigh, releasing his arm.
"I missed you a lot, Jungkook. I'm sorry about before. I just — I don't know, okay? Sometimes I get so insecure about you with other girls. I don't know how you are, considering how we're always on and off and never stable."
"Oh, yeah? So that makes it okay for you to grind your ass on Taehyung?!" He raises his voice at me. We were literally yelling at eachother in the car park.
"JUNGKOOK! I don't want Taehyung, I want YOU! I don't know why I did that but everything I do is because of you, and FOR YOU because I want you, and-and I don't want you to b-be with some other girl! I'm sorry, okay? Fuck, I got jealous and I stormed out of your house and today I got with Taehyung because I wanted to make you jealous and I wanted you to come pick me and take me home and make love to me and-and then we'd go back to the usual! As always! Like we always do! We always break up and then—"
I was shut up by him crashing his lips onto mine, pushing me against his mercedes. The kiss was rough and hungry, he had both of my arms pinned onto the car. He then pulls out,
"You ramble way too much sometimes, baby"
His thumb skims past my lower lip, eyes shifting from my lips to my eyes. He kisses me again, taking my lower lip between his lips as he gently sucks and bites on them. I melt into his kisses, my body almost sliding down the car but he holds me up with his arms that are holding onto my waist. We make out for about 1 more minute before I pull away, desperately in need of air.
He stares at me with a smirk before I try to catch my breath, his finger twirling one of my curls.
I calm my breathing down, finally, then look at him with a smile. "You good?" He says, teasingly, his knee coming in between my legs. I nod my head, feeling his knee glide up my thigh slowly. I let my clothed pussy sit on his knee, my hands traveling up to my breasts to squeeze them through the material. I nod, my eyes drowsy. Jungkook's knee begins to rub my clit slowly, creating some friction. But not enough.
I begin to grind onto his knee as he lets out a laugh.
"This is what you wanted? Hm?" He lightly slaps my cheek. I nod my head repeatedly. I let out a shaking breath, fastening my pace on his knee.
"Yeah, go on, get yourself off on my knee like the slut you are" his fingers caress my collarbones, slowly gliding them down the small dip of my top to highlight my breasts, his fingers now disappearing in between them. His eyes were filled were lust, tongue poking his cheek, his fingers hook onto the top of my dress before pulling down enough to expose my breasts. I swear I saw his eyes sparkle for a good two seconds. That just made me wetter.
Unknowingly, a moan slip past my lip as I find myself reaching my high. This was so fucking embarrassing in a way, cumming from just grinding on his knee. But it didn't matter, it was him.
"Aah, ah!" I rub my clit over my panties a few several times, finally feeling myself release. It felt like a sticky mess down there. My chest rises up and down as I let out a few breaths out. Shit, I just came. Suddenly, I feel the embarrassment kicking in. My face flushed in red, I try to look away to avoid the gaze of the man whom I just got off of.
"Too embarrassed now? Look at yourself, baby, you're fucking worn out from just my knee" He laughs. It almost feels mocking.
Jungkook's hands glide up my thighs, hooking onto the bottom lace of my dress as he lifts it upto my waist. Right now, my mini dress was just hiked up to my waist from both ends, leaving me almost completely naked.
The smirk in his face never disappears as Jungkook gets down on his knees. His eyes fixed on my wet clothing. Hands now on the waistband of the lace material, he pulls them down upto my knees. My bare pussy all wet and out for him, Jungkook wastes absolutely no time before diving in with a long stripe.
Fuck, finally.
My back arches, hand immediately flying to grip onto his long hair. His tongue licks my bud in a circular motion, then up and down my folds. I feel him place a few kisses all over, making me even wetter. Jungkook releases a breath, then a small hum and he dives back into my pussy. His eyes were closed, displaying his pretty lashes, his mouth skillfully working down there. I moan out his name, thrusting my hips forwards onto his feet. Jungkook groans into my pussy, sending vibrations down me.
"F-fuck...so good! Baby, don't stop" My head was thrown back against his car, tits out, back arched, pussy getting eaten. It was quite the view. Not to mention, we were still at the car park. Anyone could run into us anytime.
Jungkook pulls away for a moment just to spit on my pussy, and before it could dribble down my legs, his tongue catches it as he licks his trail up, back to my clit before he circles my sensitive bud again. He rubs it in the form of an 8, his hand now in between my legs, middle finger rubbing my folds. I feel and hear him hum once again, right before his finger enters me slowly, making me let out a gasp.
I quickly cover my mouth with my hands, lowering my head down to look at the man in between my legs, eating me out and fingering me so good.
I feel his big arms on my thighs, nails digging right into the flesh as they part out my legs even more. Jungkook raises his head up to look at me, letting me get a clear sight of his face fully covered in my slick as his tongue and fingers continue to work on me so good.
His teeth suddenly tug onto my bud, pulling it a bit before releasing it. Shit, he's driving me crazy.
I roll my eyes back, back arching even more. A long whine escapes my mouth as I look down at Jungkook who was now sucking hickeys onto my thighs while his fingers worked on me.
Fuck, I wish I could have him in between my legs like this every single day.
A few seconds later, a gasp leaves my mouth along with a series of whines and moans. Shit, I really was a mess. I was cumming, again, this time all over his mouth and chin. Some even dripped down to the floor and onto his tank top. I stared down at him. I couldn't help but think of how fucking hot he looked like this. Hair messed up, face flushed red and my juices all over him.
"Jungkook, so good..." My chest was rising up and down trying to catch my breath, but I could feel Jungkook's gaze fixed on nothing but my breasts. Next thing, he stands up, his hand digging inside his front pocket to pull out his car key. Impatiently, he unlocks the car.
"Get in the car, baby"
I don't bother replying, already knowing what's happening. A small giggle slips past my lips as I open the car door, stepping inside. I make sure he gets a full view of my ass out in the air and legs spread. In return, I get a spank on my right cheek and a laugh.
I laugh back, making myself comfortable as I just lay there, ass up face down at the back of the car. I didn't need him to tell me twice.
"You know me so well, Y/n." His hand leaves another spank on my right cheek. I hear him get in the car, then close the door. Thankfully, the car was big enough for the both of us to be moving like this.
Jungkook takes in the sight in front of him, his hands palming my cheeks. He then spreads them apart, spitting right in between. He groans as he watches it dribble down my cheeks. His fingers come in contact with my pussy, spreading my juices around so good. I let out small moans, feeling my body relax.
Jungkook's fingers leave a small pat on it before retrieving his fingers back. Right after, I hear the sound of his belt getting removed. The thought of dick inside me itself could make me cum just now. I was so so ready to cum, for the third round.
I turn my head around took at him as he pulls down his pants, then his boxers, and finally releasing his dick out. And god, was he big. He pulls it out then gives it a few pumps. I wiggle my ass, running out of patience.
"Jungkook, I want you inside me now. Please." I emphasise on the 'now'.
"Alright, baby. Anything for you" his lips leave a small kiss on my asscheek. My breathing halts for a second at the feeling of the tip of his dick rubbing against my folds, so teasingly slow.
"Mm, I'll go crazy..." I feel my eyes getting drowsy at the feeling.
"Me too, sweetheart, me too." His other hand glides up my back, caressing it gently. Jungkook pushes in his tip, just a little, making me let out a long whine. He's teasing me!
"Fuck you! Just fuck me! Please!" I almost let out a cry.
Jungkook mocks me once again with a laugh, his tip now a little bit more in. Fuck, why's he doing this. I groan, thinking of taking things into my own matter. My eyes roll back as I bounce back on his dick.
"Shit!" He was now fully inside me, and I couldn't name a better feeling. I grip onto the leather of the seat, slowly gliding myself up and down his dick. Shit, he was so perfect.
"Mmm, so fucking desperate for this dick? That's what you are now?" His palms lay flat on my ass cheeks, supporting me as I bounce backwards on his dick. I nod my head repeatedly as an answer, shouting out small yesses.
My moans and Jungkook's low groans were all we could hear, and the faint sound of his dick going in and out of my heat.
A few more thrusts later, I feel myself getting tired.
"Fuck..." a groan leaves my mouth, my body instantly falling down to the seat. Sex is a whole workout.
"Tired already?" His fingers brush away a few strands of my hair that's sticked to my forehead. I nod, finding myself relaxing to his touch.
Jungkook's smirk grows wider, he flips me onto my back, his body now hovering over me. He looked so majestic, tall and beautiful. My eyes travel from his broad muscular shoulders, down to his arms — big, tattooed and veins popping out —, his sharp v-line, then upwards to his abs glistening with sweat. Eyes traveling lower, I take the image of his dick in, standing tall and proud. Fuck, I think I got wetter.
Unknowingly, my lips part and a small whimper goes out. Jungkook raises an eyebrow, that smug look on his face never leaving.
I know I'm boosting his ego so much right now, for sure.
Jungkook grabs my hand, starting to trail kisses slowly from my fingers to my arm. He kisses my arm, then along my shoulder blade, his other hand pulling my thighs apart. My mouth leaving out a few whimpers, I play with my breasts at the sight of his hand now pumping his dick again. One last tug on my nipple, Jungkook thrusts his dick inside me again, both of us letting out gasps.
He starts to thrust in and out, slowly. I whine loudly, eyes closed and lips apart.
"Baby, fuck— you're so wet!" Jungkook breathes out, fastening his pace. I was so wet that we could hear the sound of it. I bite my lower lip, both hands gripping onto his shoulders. His pace increases more and more, same way my nails dig deep into his shoulders. I know for fact that he'll see nail marks all over his skin next morning. His hips crash into mine repeatedly, balls slapping against my ass cheeks. Fuck, is there anything better than this?
"Jungkook, you're so good, you're making me feel so good~" I moan out, gasping and grunting in the middle. His head bops repeatedly, eyebrows raised, face filled with pleasure.
A few more powerful thrusts later, I feel my high reaching. "Shit, I'm gonna cum" I shout, his thumb on my clit, rubbing fast — adding some extra friction. "Fuck, you're gonna cream my dick nice? Yeah?" He lands a few spanks on my ass, never slowing down his pace. Jungkook's eyes glue onto my tits as they bounce up and down due to his fast pace. I clench around him, his low groans and grunts being his respond as my clenching never stops.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—" a series of curses leave my lips, eyes rolling back I feel myself orgasm all over him. My cum leaks out, making a mess when his hips clash with ass repeatedly. We were so sticky and sweaty. The smell of sex was taking over.
Jungkook arches his neck back, thrusting in a few times more before he pulls out, tip leaking with cum. He jerks himself off onto my stomach, a bit landing on my tits even. His cum spurts out, cum all over my upper body.
He sighs, his chest rising up and down, same as me. I mewl, eyes closed as I try to catch my breath.
"Fuuuuck," Jungkook groans, "that was hot." I laugh a little at his comment, lightly nodding my head.
He smiles at me before reaching his arm out to the front of the car, then grabbing a pack of tissues. Jungkook returns, pulling out a few tissues and then wiping my chest with it. Then down there as well, I relax at the feeling.
He then throws the dirty tissue away, locking eyes with me.
I crawl onto his lap, my arms engulfing his neck. Jungkook hums, wrapping his arms around my waist. My head on his bare chest, I relax to his little caresses. If only we could lay like this forever. There was a small silence between us. I could tell that we both were thinking about what I had said before, right before we started get all over eachother.
"Jungkook." I decide to break the silence.
"Yeah?" He answers immediately.
"I'm sorry."
"Me too."
I pull away to look at him, his big eyes already looking at me.
"I'm sorry for making you jealous with Taehyung. I shouldn't have done that." I admit.
"And I'm sorry for going out with Aeri before. I should've told you, baby, fuck, but I promise we didn't do anything."
He says, sincerely.
"Okay." I nod.
"Can we—can we please get back together?"
"We never broke up. You just stormed out mad." He says.
I press my lips tightly, feeling guilty.
"Jungkook", I press the side of my cheek onto his chest again.
"Do you still love me?"
He cracks a small laugh, "Baby, what are you asking? I've always loved you."
"I think we have issues." The words leave in a small, almost inaudible voice. I don't want to admit to it.
"We always fight, breakup, then we make eachother jealous, then we make love, then we make up—then it repeats." I murmer.
Jungkook sighs, I could tell he was admitting to what I was saying.
"Give us one more chance, baby. Let's work this out. I promise you this time. I'll be everything you need."
"You're already everything I need." I whisper.
"I love you, Y/n"
"I love you more, Jungkook"
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shurisneakers · 3 months
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unsolved (i)
Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or any shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)
Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, Very Loud reader, images and memes that all have alt texts.
A/N: yes this is literally harmless in a different font. do not ask me if anything doesn't make sense. i cannot explain. i resurface every 3 years to present you with ideas born from menty b's. ANYWAY shout out to my beloved ryan and shane. pls enjoy <3
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Bucky doesn’t appeal to the youths.
Apparently. 
On God, he cannot fathom why.
He had definitely left the house in the last six months, maybe. Smiled in at least two pictures that existed on the internet. He even knew what Discord was. Sort of.  
By all accounts, he should be treated as the modern day icon that he was.  
“The youths?” he repeats, the word so foreign on his tongue it felt odd to even say it.
“Your numbers are the lowest of the whole team.” The latest tech-dude, with a tablet twelve models ahead of the one Bucky had in his room, tells him monotonously. “Wilson, Romanoff and Barton score the highest. Everyone else lies around the middle. You are dead-last.”
Bucky has the audacity to look offended. 
“Anything to say?” Their PR head, Maya, asks him, amused. 
He stares, formulating the wittiest one liner he could in three seconds.
“I don’ care,” he mumbles. 
Maya sighs. “Look, the team took the decision together. As far as I’m aware, you are still a member. You need some PR if you guys want to stay in the public’s good books.”
“No one’s gonna listen to me.” Bucky wasn’t exactly the poster child for American values. He couldn’t even vote until three years ago, and that came only after the full wrath of a Steve Rogers descended on the email inbox of the DMV. 
“That’s why it’s important to get them to like you,” Maya emphasizes. “Or the idea of you at least. A very sanitized, corporate friendly version.”
His eyebrow twitches unintentionally.  
“And also you signed the contract.”
Well. Shit. 
Truth be told– and he has openly and rather loudly stated this on numerous occasions even especially when no one asked– he doesn’t understand why they need a PR team. The world has calmed down significantly over the last few years. Bucky hadn’t really been out crime-fighting as much as he was people-watching. There hasn’t been an earth-shatteringly dystopian-level event in the longest time, and there seemed to be a group of spandex-clad teenagers who seemed to do a good job at taking care of them when they did threaten to occur. Go kids.
Even if they needed PR, he could arguably understand the appeal of Sam and Nat and why the people would want to see more of them. Bucky, on the other hand, looked like he crawled onto Earth most days of the week. 
“What do I have to do?” he asks ultimately, knowing there was no way to get out of this. “Interviews?”
The intern shares a look with Maya. Bucky shares a look with the ceiling. 
“The team agreed to do a series of videos, each focusing on a different niche,” she begins, “Crash courses on science, pointing out mistakes in spy movies. Once a week.”
Bucky nods along. He can pinpoint Bruce and Nat for those.
Maya stares at him.
Bucky stares back.
“So,” she says slowly, like he’s a moron, “you would–”
“No.” 
The intern sighs heavily like they discussed that this was going to happen. Bucky was getting predictable. This annoys him even further, for some reason.
“Only once a week, and it doesn’t have to be anything crazy–”
“I’m not doing videos,” he interjects. “I’ll tweet a few times. I’ll even go outside. But ’m not doin’ videos.”
A big step was to get the Avengers off Twitter after the regular shit-storm that occurs every time they’d quote-tweet another politician calling them shitheads. Getting them back on seems counterproductive. 
“Fine,” Maya relents, looking at the intern. “We'll work something out.”
Bucky leans back in his chair, and meditating on ways he can weasel his way out of those too.
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So they stick him in a couple of interviews.
Bucky, as the recluse extraordinaire that he was, does unsurprisingly terrible at them.
Variety does a piece on him that was supposed to take up 2 pages. They send back half a page worth of usable material and Bucky gets a lecture on how monosyllables don't count as answers.
He grunts in return. Maya’s itch to smack his shoulder with the rolled up draft increases.
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They set him up for pap walks. Just him getting fast food for the team, or sitting in the park.
They don’t take into account that Bucky was trained professionally for years on how to hide, sneak in and out of places without a soul knowing he was ever there. 
The paparazzi spend three hours waiting for him outside the pizza place, while he’s been home for two hours with two demolished pepperonis and an order of mozzarella sticks. 
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They give him access to his Twitter. 
He tweets some dumb shit and gets shadow banned by that evening. 
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Maya is sick and tired, and the interns have shifted three times since the whole ordeal started. Bucky honestly feels a little bad. Maybe he should try to be like Scott, who not only wrote a book, finger-gunned at photographers, did an interview a week, but also agreed to a podcast and a video series about literally anything they suggested. 
“Play nice,” Sam tells Bucky one evening. 
It’s an off-hand comment, not even really looking at him while he says it. 
Bucky doesn’t need to ask what he’s referring to, but he thinks that maybe he has gone too far.
He begrudgingly agrees. 
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Therefore, it begins. 
They stick him in the background of a few videos. Just to interact, add his commentary on what was going on, suggestions. 
Then the jokes really start.
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“I just don’t got anything to add,” Bucky tries, in a failure of an attempt to justify his lack of contribution. 
Maya only stares at him, but Bucky swears he can hear her curse quietly, even though her lips don’t move even a millimeter.  
He is not put in another video. 
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And so he finds himself here. 
In a meeting room that he’s convinced is barricaded from the outside so he can’t slither out the door again. Another intern with pink-tinted glasses that took up half their face.
Maya’s in the midst of explaining to him that sure, his numbers had gone up by a decimal, but that was because people had started editing him into the backgrounds of other pictures for other users to find in a perplexing take on Where’s Waldo.
“Videos seem to be working,” she ties it together. “But we need more than you just standing silently behind Captain Rogers.”
“But it’s working,” Bucky objects. “I don’t see why it has to change.”
Maya sends him a glare. Bucky decides then it’s good to shut up. 
“Are you on the internet a significant amount?” the intern asks. The glasses on their face have changed colours to green. Bucky’s eyebrow furrows. 
“No.” 
For the next thirty minutes, he is subjected to a pop quiz about too many words ending with ‘core’, ‘coded’ and ‘eras’. He’s surprised that he knows what cottagecore is. He definitely doesn’t fucking know what a tomatogirl, nor does he want to. 
“What do you like doing?” the intern enunciates, pulling up a spreadsheet of niches that had built a dedicated community around themselves over the years. “Makeup? Cleaning? Parkour?”
Bucky wonders if they’d really create a montage of him just micro cleaning the kitchen every week. It doesn’t sound half bad. 
Beyond that, the only thing he can think of is woodworking, which Sam introduced him to. While he spends time creating little figures, he wouldn’t say it was– 
“You really are dead silent,” the intern breaks his train of thought, tone almost that of wonder. “Guess the whole ‘ghost story for seventy years’ is more true than I thought.”
Bucky throws him a weary look, and works on unclenching the fist that tightened involuntarily. 
“Was that necessary?” Maya’s voice comes coldly. “Take fifteen. Go find the other one we were supposed to meet.”
While sheepish and somewhat apologetic, the kid still looks relieved to be out of there. To be honest, Bucky isn’t really offended– he’s grown a thick skin over the years. But he also thought the guy was a little shit now. 
Maya turns back to him, but Bucky finds that the table contains wonders far more interesting than the conversation at hand.
“Back to what we were talking about.” She ruffles through something on her laptop. “Puppets? History?”
He wordlessly shakes his head. 
Been the former, seen too much of the latter.
Maya’s head tilts abruptly. “You like ghosts?”  
He wonders if the prior conversation had anything to do with this insightful question. 
Bucky shrugs. “Don’t exist.”
“Really,” Maya deadpans. “Aliens and multiversal baboons are fine, but no ghosts.”
“I’ve seen aliens and multiversal baboons. Never seen a ghost in my life,” Bucky argues right back.
“Other people have seen ghosts.”
“Good for other people.”
The door swings open right as Maya’s eyes narrow at him. Guess it wasn’t padlocked. 
“Whatever it is you think I did, Maya, I didn’t. I think,” you announce in a volume too much for a closed room, stopping when you see Bucky sitting cross-armed and looking delightfully disgruntled. “Oh hey, Barnes. Fancy seeing you here.”
Bucky had met you. The newest addition to the team that had made a grand entrance a couple of weeks ago. He thinks you stay on the floor below him, but he has nothing backing this hypothesis other than the disco funk music that had started appearing at odd hours of the night. 
“Please sit,” Maya cracks a smile at you that Bucky had yet to earn. “Sorry, I know our meeting is scheduled for later, but I figured we could kill two birds with one stone.”
You look between her and Bucky, who hasn’t moved an inch since you got here, much less even said hello.
“You must be really bad if Maya had to call me in,” you tell him outright. “I’m usually like, her last option.”
“Thanks,” Bucky replies dryly. 
“Look, here’s my final pitch.” Maya sighs, before turning to you. “You’re new, and we need something to introduce you slowly to the public.”
“Oh, am I finally getting hard launched?” You grin, and Bucky doesn’t know what that means. “Just imagine me kicking my feet, giggling or whatever.” 
“And he needs… an upgrade.” Maya’s thumb juts out towards Bucky who simply rolls his eyes.
“Right.” Your sight lands on him from across the table. “I’ve seen the memes.”
“What memes?” he grunts, because while the team had definitely seen them, it didn't occur to anyone they should show it to him. He loves them. Really. So much. Die for them. 
You only look too happy to pull out your phone and start typing.
“Do you know what skinwalkers are?” 
“No.”
“That’s what they say you look like, lurking in the back of all your friends’ videos,” you continue, swerving around your phone to show him.
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Bucky doesn’t look impressed. He can’t say he blames them either, which makes him inexplicably maddens him.  
“At least they’re calling you their boyfriend,” you add, entirely unhelpfully. “That’s gotta count.”
“Right.” Maya clears her throat. “The both of you–” 
“Are getting paired together, I suppose,” you hum. 
Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 
He barely knows you. Just a little bit on how you ended up here, that you enjoyed hanging out with the team, figuring out your place in the compound, and were seemingly doing a great job at it. 
You were… loud. And open. 
Bucky feels the compulsive need to compensate for that by doubling down on how silent he could get, as if the two of you couldn’t co-exist in the same space in equilibrium. 
Maya pointedly raises a finger at you. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“For the right price, I will believe in whatever you tell me to.”
Her face lights up brighter than Bucky's ever seen.
“Great.” Maya slams her laptop closed. “See you later.”
Bucky’s left staring as she exits, not even throwing the both of you another look.
“That was quick,” your voice cuts through the silence. “What was that all about?”
 “Don’ ask me,” he grumbles, with a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was about to follow. 
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“Ghost hunting?” Bucky echoes a week later, as expected.
“Yes,” Maya tells him simply. “Two of you. A series based on paranormal activity.”
“I don’t even believe in them,” he reiterates. 
“That’s the point,” she emphasises. “Skeptic and believer. It makes for a good contrast.”
“Why us both?” He hopes it doesn’t come off as offensive. He just doesn’t see why he can’t do this with Sam. Even Clint, if a gun was really pressed to his head. 
“I’m new, no one gives a shit about me,” you say brightly and full of promise. “Yet.”
“Exactly. It’ll be low key. Not an overwhelming number of viewers, no expectations. It’s perfect for launching one Avenger and re-launching another.”
“Sounds rad.” You grin, leaning back as your feet rest on the chair in front of you.
Maya looks relieved for a moment that at least one of you was on board. “No promises on anything. We shoot one video, and if it does well, we stick with it.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky argues. 
“Then you have until tomorrow morning to give us another feasible idea,” Maya dishes back.
Bucky retreats into his seat, arms crossed over his chest. 
Truth be told, he considered himself to be the most boring person in the team and though he had made his peace with that, he was sure thar bringing that up now would entail Maya shooting him in the foot.
“Fine,” he agrees and the sighs around the room are loud. 
He scoffs. So fucking dramatic and for what.
“Put her there, partner.” You stretch ungracefully over the large table, sticking out your hand.
Bucky eyes your hand. “Do you even believe in ghosts?” 
“I do now, yeah.” You nod seriously. “Love ‘em. Can’t get enough of them.”
“One video,” Maya reminds him as a balm. “And if it doesn’t work, you’re off the hook forever.”
Off the hook? Forever? For Bucky?
Yay. 
“One video,” he reiterates.
You roll your eyes before smiling when he leans forward to grab it. You yank it up and down clunkily. He blinks at you, letting go slowly. 
“Thank fuck,” Maya groans, head dropping onto the table. 
Your smile is wild. “Guess we’re doing this shit together.”
He doesn’t even have to look very deep in his soul. He already knows he’s going to suffer.
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here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!
to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!
also i'd absolutely love to make this a community led fic like how harmless was! if you have memes or any paranormal ideas or just any prompts in general, please please send them my way <3
Next part
542 notes · View notes
lnfours · 8 months
Text
summer love | l.n
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summary: part 2 to this request but make it ✨summer break ✨
warnings: fluff, language, all the feels, lando being 100% whipped. fem!driver x lando :,)
masterlist | part 1 | ask box
₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
it was officially summer break, a whole month off of racing to recharge the batteries, spend time with family and friends and just do normal people things.
but all you could think about was him. it was sickening. you weren’t sure how or why, but you found yourself thinking about lando a lot more than you should. and you knew you shouldn’t, he was your teammate, but something about that day in the drivers room made your heart rate spike.
you were laying in bed, scrolling through instagram when you had come across his story. you held down the picture, examining it as you looked it over.
it was a picture of the sunset, the location tagged london, england. you furrowed an eyebrow, he spent his summer break at home? before you knew it, you were sliding up, adding a comment underneath the picture.
you’re home for summer break?
you bit down on your lower lip after you had sent it. surely he wouldn’t reply, he was probably off having a good time, enjoying his life and not thinking about you-
yea, feels good to be home. where’d you go to spend holiday?
you clicked at the top of your screen, opening the dms. you had saw the previous dms being memes you had sent one another a while back, the two of you going back and forth about who was funnier.
it was you.
actually, i’m here too 😅
you saw his icon appear at the bottom of your message before it changed to say he was typing. you tried so hard to ignore the way your stomach was doing cartwheels.
out of ALL the places you could’ve chose from, you picked london? stalker much? 🙄
you let out a soft laugh, typing back a whitty response.
you wish i was here to see you, norris 🥱 no, i’ve just never been. always been on my bucket list to come outside of racing
typing…
i do, actually. i miss you
you read it over and over again before another message appeared from him.
also, where are you staying? we can meet up, get coffee or something? i can show you around 😁
okay, now you were internally screaming. you clicked on the photo option, snapping a picture of you in your bed, adding the location of the hotel you were staying in before sending it. he opened it almost immediately, sending another picture back. he was shirtless, sunglasses resting on his nose and you noticed he had grown out his facial hair. the sun was still setting and it looked like he was on a beach.
you’re literally 15 minutes away from me. hang out with me, i’m bored ☹️
you smiled before sending another picture, this time of the tv in the hotel which was currently playing an episode of a show you had seen a million times before.
can’t, busy :/
another picture from him, this time he was in his car. he had a shirt on now, the white fabric making him look tanner, his hair messy. how could someone look so good?
too bad, i know where you are 🥰
you took a picture of yourself giving him the finger, a playful smile on your face.
ok fine, but you’re getting me food
he replied with another picture, this time of his hand on the steering wheel. the mclaren logo on the center was the star of the show, the four little lines on the bottom making an appearance.
deal, see you soon
you double tapped his photo, throwing the covers off of your legs before making your way to your suitcase. you grabbed a pair of shorts and an over size hoodie, tugging it on before fixing your hair. you opted on no makeup, slipping your sunglasses on before grabbing your bag. once you made sure you had everything, you made your way to the lobby.
in the elevator, your phone pinged.
your chariot awaits, m’lady
you rolled your eyes and smiled, typing back a response.
coming to lobby now, mr. uber driver
he double tapped your message and when you walked through the doors of the hotel, you immediately spotted him. he was waiting for you, leaning against the passenger side door. you smiled, approaching him as he smiled back at you.
“hey,” you said, the two of you reaching for a hug. he wrapped his arms around your waist, desperately trying not to hug you too tight as you slung your arms around his neck.
“hey,” he smiled back, “ready for the best tour of london you’ll ever get with your favorite guy?”
you looked around, a playful smile on your lips, “lewis is here?”
he rolled his eyes, shoving your arm softly as he chuckled, “oh, fuck off.”
you laughed back at him, letting him open the door for you. you smiled and thanked him, letting it close as he made his way to the drivers side. you took note of each little personalized detail of the car, smiling softly at how much of his personality was put into it.
“so,” he said, starting the car, “anywhere in particular you wanted to see?”
you shook your head, “no, but if you want, you could show me your favorite places.”
he nodded, pulling out of the parking lot, “i’ve got the perfect place for you.”
you couldn’t help but smile again as you looked over at him. he handed you his phone, spotify open, “play whatever you want.”
you raised an eyebrow, “whatever i want?”
he nodded, “yeah, curious to see what kind of music you listen to.”
you smirked, typing in ‘summer love’ by justin timberlake. the song boomed through the speakers and he laughed, turning it up slightly as he made his way to one of his favorite spots.
after more songs, which may or may not have included some one direction songs (which he surprisingly knew all the words to), and some small talk later, he pulled into a parking spot at the overlook. you both got out, standing in front of the car as you looked out at the view.
“wow,” you breathed, “this is stunning.”
you looked up at the sky as you finally got to see it’s beauty without any light pollution. he smiled, leaning against the car as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“yeah,” he looked over at you, “it is.”
you looked over at him, “you’re looking at me like that again.”
he raised an eyebrow, but the smile still sat on his face as he shook his head, “no idea what you’re talking about, doll.”
your stomach did a flip and you walked in front of him, your legs between his, “how many girls have you brought here?”
he snorted, “none, only you,” he looked up at the stars now, his neck on display for you. his fluffy curls were pushed back with his sunglasses, his nose and cheeks slightly red and covered in sun freckles from being outside all day. he looked so pretty like this to you, who was still standing in front of him and god you wish you didn’t look awkward staring at him like this, “kind of a place where i come if i need to get away, just think for a little bit.”
you finally adverted your eyes back to the sky, “yeah, this would be the place to do it.”
he nodded, “so, to answer your question, none. guess that makes you special.”
you gasped, “i’m special to the lando norris?”
“don’t start,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “you’re like, P3 at best.”
“well you know what they say about being third,” you said, “they have the treasure chest.”
he chuckled again, the soft breeze of the night whisking a hair in your face. he carefully reached out and brushed it back, “actually, you get 15 points. cmon, you’re supposed to know this, y/n,”
you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face even if you tried, “you would know, huh?”
your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling it out and reading the notification.
⚠️ time to bereal ⚠️
you clicked on it, looking up at him but he was already looking at you, “wanna be in my bereal?”
“sure,” he said and you smiled before clicking on the notification.
however when you held your arm up, you started laughing and not being able to take yourself seriously. lando laughed with you.
“hurry! take the picture or it’ll be late!” he laughed and you pulled yourself together before laughing again. you weren’t sure what it was. if it was how close he was to you or how happy you were right now, but he took the phone from you.
“jesus christ,” he laughed as he raised his arm up, pulling you in by your hip. you wrapped both arms around his neck, smiling at the camera. he turned the phone around to get the other picture, this time he turned his head towards you and you faced him with a smile. he smiled back, your hand resting on his cheek. the flash went off and he brought his arm down, but you still kept his face in your hand.
you took the phone from him, “thank you,”
“yeah,” he smiled, “anytime,”
you locked your phone, slipping it back into your pocket before looking at him again. he still had the same look on his face, almost like he was-
“i like you, y/n,” he said, “a lot.”
you smiled, heart jumping up to your throat, stomach doing flips, and you swore you were going to pass out when he placed his hand on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin, his fingers starting to move into the hair behind your ear.
“i like you too,” you said, and that was all he needed to hear before he was pulling your neck towards him, lips connecting with yours. your body felt like it was on fire as his hands moved from your face to your hips, shifting as he leaned back against the hood of the car, taking you with him as you laid on top of him.
the kiss got hot, his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip. at first you didn’t let him in, which made you giggle against him. but, the giggling turned into gasping the minute he tugged on your hair gently, allowing him to sneak his tongue in.
he finally broke the kiss, the both of you panting. you hadn’t realized that your hands were in his hair, it now being a mess of frizzy, beachy curls. his lips were red and puffy, pupils blown. you were so in love.
your phone buzzed in your pocket, taking it out and almost laughing at the notification. he smiled at you, but raised an eyebrow in confusion, “what? what’s funny?”
you turned your phone around to show him oscar’s comment on your bereal:
oscarpiastri81: WHAT THE FUCK??!?!
he laughed, pulling you as close as he could while you typed out a response to your teammate, “you hungry?”
you nodded, slipping your phone back into your pocket, “starving, actually.”
he nodded, taking your hand in his as you stood up, “i know a really good spot not far from your hotel, think you’ll like it.”
you smiled as he opened the door for you, you thanked him with a quick kiss on his lips, “sounds perfect.”
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truly-neutral-art · 4 days
Text
Din/Luke Pacific Rim AU pt.2
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Pt.1 | Pt.3
Another addition to this AU because It's been living in my head rent free for ages. I can't do a Pacific Rim AU without recreating the iconic Kwoon scene. Also, I was too lazy to draw backgrounds so I just stole them from the movie  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Under the cut is a teaser of the fic I'm trying to write. It's a first draft, so there's probably some mistakes. Also, I'm still kind of in Screen Writing mode from school, so please don't mind if there's not a lot of internal character narration.
“Four points to two,” Luke calls after the final candidate falls. His emotions are carefully masked on his face but Din can see how tense he is. 
“We’re wasting time, Marshal. He’s barely compatible with any of them, this isn’t going to work,” Luke says.
“What do you suggest?” The Marshal raises a brow. 
“Put me in charge, I’m drift compatible with several cadets. We don’t need him.” Luke gestures towards Din. The look on his face makes Din’s blood boil. Contempt. What did he ever do to Luke to earn this?
“What’s your problem, Skywalker?” Din stomps towards the edge of the mat. 
“I’ve already told you, I don’t think you're the right man for the job,” Luke replies. He’s now turned squarely towards Din, his face back to that eerie calm. It sends a shiver down Din’s spine. 
“No, there’s more. You’ve got a problem with me.” Din steps closer, trying to ignore the piercing blue of Luke’s eyes. 
“Enough! both of you.” Marshal Skywalker turns to them both. 
“If you think you’re so much better, then let’s go.” Din points his bō at Luke. “If you win, you can pilot the Crest. If I win, you back off.” Din holds Luke's gaze, projecting his challenge. 
“Neither of you are in the position to make that decision,” Anakin states, breaking the spell. 
“What? Think your own blood isn’t good enough to beat me?” Din didn’t know Marshal Skywalker that well, but from what he did know, the man was prideful. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move, but it got him what he wanted. 
The Martial turned towards Luke, earning his attention. No words were exchanged between them, the Martial simply gave a nod. A brief look of satisfaction washed over Luke’s face. Din turned towards the mat to prepare for the fight before Luke’s eyes turned back to him. 
Luke stepped to the edge of the mat, shoes and outer shirt removed. He bowed at the waist before stepping forward. He was in a simple black tank top and the standard cargo pants. It was the first time Din had seen any of his skin exposed beyond his face. His arms and neck were covered in pale, lightning-like scars that looked like they extended beyond what Din could see. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. He knew almost nothing about Luke when he really thought about it. Only what he heard from the news from the past four years.
He had to admit, it made him earn a little more respect for the kid. At first he’d seemed like a petulant child who was getting his favorite toy taken away, but now, Din wasn’t as sure that was the case. He had no more time to think on it as he and Luke passed each other on the mat, walking to opposite sides, then turning to face each other. 
In the blink of an eye Luke swung his bō with the finesse of a warrior. He moved forward before stopping in the middle of the mat as he pulled his bō up in defense. Din followed suit, taking on a more aggressive starting position. He could tell Luke was analyzing him, eyes flitting around to every point of his body. Din took the opportunity to attack. In one swift moment he had his bō mimicking a strike at Luke’s skull. 
“One, Zero.” The words had barely left his mouth before Luke made a counter attack. In a flash Luke had reversed their positions with a satisfied smirk. 
Without wasting any more time the two began to fight again in an explosion of movement. The people in the kwoon reacted to them, but Din’s focus narrowed in until it was only them in the room. He watched Luke’s movements carefully, anticipating and blocking every attack that came and returning his own. He picked up on a franticness in Lukes’s movements and took advantage, landing an attack on his ribs. 
“You’re too eager, you’re projecting your moves,” Din commented as they reset. 
“I don’t need your advice.” Despite his words, Luke waited, ready for Din’s next move. 
Luke swiftly blocked everything Din threw at him and pushed back even harder. In the next moment Luke attacked with a flurry of blows, catching Din off guard. He was stronger than he looked. 
“Two, two.” Luke had once again evened the score. 
There was barely a pause before they were at it again. This bout lasted longer than the others, both having picked up on each other’s gambit. They danced around each other, the only sound in Din’s ears were the clacking of their bō staffs and their heavy breathing. Neither was holding back. 
In a blur of motion Luke darted towards Din’s legs, throwing him off balance. Din rolled out of the throw but as he lifted his head he was met with Luke’s bō to his throat. Luke's eyes were no less intense this close. 
“Two, Three.” Luke stepped back into a ready position. “Better watch out, Djarin.” There was a satisfied smirk on his face. He was winning. Din wouldn’t give up that easily. 
He pulled out every trick he had, but Luke seemed to always be a step ahead. He was too fast, almost as if he could read Din’s mind. From the outside it would almost look like this was rehearsed. In the end, it was Din’s weight advantage that won him the point. He moved in close and pinned Luke's arm before throwing him down to the mat. The blond hit the ground on his back, breath escaping his lungs from the impact. 
Din almost went to help him up but Luke threw his legs backwards into a handstand before standing back up. He barely looked affected, the only sign of fatigue on him was the sweat on his forehead that matted down his blond hair. 
“Three, Three,” Din called. “And there’s no need to show off.” 
The next point would declare a winner. There was a smile on Luke’s face, different from the ones before. This one was more open, leaving Din feeling dizzy instead of insulted. 
Din tried to understand it but there was no more time to ponder as Luke set on his next attacks. He was more aggressive than he’d been the rest of the fight but Din pushed back, not without some difficulty. Luke danced around Din with a frightening agility. The only thing that kept Din in the fight for so long were his reflexes. He knew he had to end this fight soon or Luke would eventually wear him down. 
In a decisive move Din attacked at Luke’s head, trading off his defense for offense. He had Luke on the move, nearly pushing him off the mat. However, before he could land a finishing blow Luke darted to the side, slipping his leg between Din’s and toppling him to the floor. When Din processed what happened, he was pinned under Luke’s hips on his chest and his bō at his neck. 
Cheers erupted from the gathered crowd, but Din’s view had narrowed into Luke as he stood up. Din stayed on the ground, still a bit stunned from the end of the fight. He wasn’t really sure how to feel about its outcome. But one thing was for certain, he and Luke were drift compatible. Very drift compatible. 
Din was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t even realize Luke was reaching down to him until his hand was in his face. He took it and allowed Luke to help him to his feet. 
“You felt it too, didn’t you?” Luke asked.
“Yeah.”
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holdupjack · 2 months
Text
Hello Spider
—————
Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader
AU: Spider-Man Earth-1048
Warning: None
—————
Third Person P.O.V:
August
Hermione Granger sighed softly as she typed away on her laptop on the seventh floor of The Daily Bugle. She could hear Jameson screaming at one of his interns about how much property damage Spider-Woman caused in her fight with Vulture a few months ago. His podcast seemed to always be one somewhere in the building...
At least he wasn't spiraling about the new Spider-Man that she has been seen swinging with around the city. Hermione thought Jameson was going to send himself into the ER when it was announced that she had a protégé.
Hermione slowly stood up and collected her wallet, eagerly ready to go on her lunch break to Joe's Pizza Cellar across the street. She only took one step when a muffled explosion came from somewhere within the city.
Everyone around her seemed to look up and turn their heads towards the windows, when her eyes flickered towards them as well, a loud yell rang outa car suddenly flew past the windows.
"I HATE CHASE OF GOOSE"
Hermione threw down her wallet and grabbed her notepad, running up to the window as a familiar set of feet ran across the building.
"Aw come on Aleksei! At least look both ways before crossing the street!"
She soon sprang off the wall, while Spider-Man swung behind her. Hermione watched in awe as they chased after Rhino, writing down her quip before tuning towards the elevators.
Her coworkers began to crowd around the windows as they watched the carnage that was being left behind by the Villains run through New York.
Hermione soon found herself outside, running down the street to where a full-blown fight was taking place. Spider-Woman dodged the bigger man's punches as Spider-Man kept any civilians out of harm's way.
"Really Aleksei, I don't know why you try to punch me anymore. You know I can just-"
Spider-Woman was cut off when Rhino grabbed a light pole that had been ripped from the ground previously and whacked her with it.
She went flying through a department store window, to which Spider-Man immediately kept the villain distracted while the other got her bearings.
Hermione quickly slipped into the store, bumping into scared customers and staff as they ran out of the building. Her eyes land on the iconic red, black, and blue costume. A soft groan escaped the superhero as she pulled herself back onto her feet, shaking her head slightly as a way to get rid of the dizziness.
"I really need to quit jinxing myself" she coughed out.
"Spider-Woman?" Hermione calls out as loud yells and quips from the two outside continue. The hero quickly looked up and the eyes on her mask widened, seeming surprised to see her.
"WHERE IS FEMALE SPIDER" Rinho's voice boomed as Spider-Man flew past the shattered window, the loud crunch of metal and a car alarm blaring made it obvious what he had landed against.
"Stay here," Spider-Woman says as she jumps out of the store through the broken window and runs toward the belligerent man.
Hermione couldn't help but stare in awe, even amid everything going on. So, once again, she followed out onto the street.
Spider-Woman jumped and swung around the barbarian like it was nothing. Spider-Man zipped back into the fight and ducked between Rhino's legs as the other hero punched him in the jaw.
The young journalist knew this was idiotic to do, basically sitting on the sidelines as full-blown armageddon was in front of her.
Rhino swatted Spider-Man away, sending him halfway down the street as Spider-Woman jumped into the air and webbed a manhole in between her and Aleksei.
Yanking it up into the air, she soon slammed it against his head, causing the giant to stumble backward.
Right towards Hermione.
Her eyes widened as she tried to move out of the way, but the guy was falling too quickly. Spider-Woman webbed the arm of Hermione and yanked her up towards her.
The journalist yelled out in surprise as she was pulled into the hero's arms and taken to safety on top of the building behind them.
When Hermione's feet touched a solid surface, she instantly looked up to find the mask of the hero every kid loves.
"You were a troublemaker in school, weren't you?" Spider-Women chuckles in a fake voice as she removes her arm from around the journalist's waist and steps back toward the edge, watching Spider-Man web down Rhino. The bigger man's suit was sparking and in obvious need of repairs, while the two heroes only needed new stitches in their suits.
"Spider-Man, are you good?" she yells down, and he gives two thumbs up in return, before jumping slightly as Rhino yells angrily at them.
Hermione watched in awe as Spider-Woman turned back to her and cocked her head slightly to the side. A gesture that finally made the Brit find her voice.
"Can I...Can I have an interview?" Hermione asks and the hero chuckles softly, sitting down on the edge of the rooftop.
"Alright, you have a minute before the police get here" she responds, causing Hermione to widen her eyes and quickly pull out her pen and notepad.
This was a chance of a lifetime, and she damn sure wasn't going to waste it.
"Uh, why did you decide to do this? More specifically, why did you become a hero?" she asks as she eagerly hovers her pen over the empty page of her notepad.
"Well, the world could always use more heroes" Spider-Women replies as she picks up a small crushed can from the roof, and looks back over the edge, throwing it easily into the trashcan down below.
"That's it? Not the fame, money, or adoring fans?" Hermione asked as she scribbled down the responses and questions. Spider-Woman chuckled and shrugs.
"I think IronMan makes enough money for all of us heroes, and fame or fans? You've seen how the news changes their opinion on me, as do the people of New York" she says simply as she hears the sirens starting to get closer. Hermione looks to her right, seeing a part of the street a bit farther away.
"Don't get me wrong, I love all the citizens, but sometimes it does feel like a punch to the arm" Spider-Woman chuckles softly as she stands up from the edge of the roof and stands in front of the journalist. Hermione stops writing and looks at the hero with a shy smile.
"Well, if it's worth anything, I'm one of your biggest fans," she says, making the woman chuckle again and probably smile underneath that mask. Hermione couldn't really tell.
"Time to go!" Spider-Man calls out as he swings past the building just as the boys in blue turn down the street. Spider-Woman took a step back onto the ledge and looked back at Hermione.
"It's an honor to have you as a fan, Ms.Granger," she says as they stare at one another for a moment. Then Hermione realized something.
"Hey, wait-" she starts, but Spider-Woman quickly jumps off and begins to swing away. Hermione ran up to the edge and watched as she followed after her protégé.
"I never told you my name!" Hermione yells out, but it is no use, she is already too far to hear her. The journalist huffed out a soft laugh as she stepped back from the edge and looked down at her notes.
Now she needed to get down from atop this building.
——————
When Hermione stepped back onto the seventh floor of The Daily Bugle, everyone still didn't pay her any mind as she made her way back to her desk. As soon as she sat down, someone leaned against it.
"Where have you been?"
Hermione looks up to find Y/n Y/l/n,  the only photographer who has been able to get clear photos of Spider-Woman & Man. She was also a very good friend.
"You won't believe who I got an exclusive interview with!" Hermione says excitedly as Y/n rolls over an office chair and sits on it backward. Her arms lay on top of the backrest, her chin resting on her forearms.
"Who?" She asks with a smile as Hermione hands her the notepad, watching as the photographer reads the questions and answers.
Y/n couldn't help but let out a chuckle as she handed back the notepad to Hermione. The two girls had been talking for a while about a front-page story she had been told would be hers if she got an interview with the superhuman. Y/n couldn't resist teasing her about the joy on her face.
"Finally got attention from your favorite hero?" Y/n asked playfully, referring to the piece that Hermione had been working on for the past few weeks about Spider-Women.
Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. She turned on her desktop, and with practiced ease, logged in to her account. Y/n watched as Hermione's fingers danced across the keyboard, her eyes focused on the screen, completely immersed in her work.
"She is one of the reasons I moved here! I want to be the only journalist on the amazing Spider-Woman" Hermione admits, even having a small flush on her face. It obviously wasn't one of the main reasons, but it was a very good perk.
"You know...I do have connections to her. Maybe I could-" Y/n was cut off when Hermione grabbed the office chair and pulled her closer. Their faces were inches away.
"Can you get me another interview?" She asks quietly as they stare deeply into each other's eyes, Y/n's face growing hot at the proximity.
"I...well...yes!" She stumbles over her words as the smile on Hermione's face grows. She suddenly pulled away and opened her document application on her desktop.
Y/n watched as the woman's face lit up with childlike excitement, her eyes widening and a smile spreading across her lips.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine appreciation.
"Oh, this will be remarkable," she added, her tone laced with anticipation. Y/n sat up straight, feeling a sense of responsibility to carefully choose her next words.
"I'll see what I can do, but honestly, she might seek you out first," she says with a small smirk as their eyes meet again, a glint was in Hermione's eyes, something Y/n couldn't place.
"Seek me out? What do you mean?" Hermione asks as her eyes follow Y/n, who slowly stands up from the chair and pushes it back to where she got it.
Y/n gave a small smile in response and turned around to walk back to her desk, leaving Hermione to watch her go. As she walked, a glint of mischief shone in her eye, hinting at a playful side to her personality.
Hermione had seen this look before, though, and knew that Y/n had a way of doing things that was uniquely her own. It was just one of the many things that made her such an intriguing person to be around.
She began to smile as well.
——————
Later That Night
Hermione dragged her feet wearily up the narrow staircase, her arms laden with a heavy bag of fragrant Chinese food takeout. The pungent aroma of soy sauce, ginger, and garlic wafted up to her nose, making her mouth water in anticipation.
As she climbed higher and higher, each step felt like a Herculean effort, and she had to pause several times to catch her breath. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she reached the fifth-floor landing and emerged from the dimly lit stairwell, squinting in the bright light of the hallway. The door to her apartment was only a few steps away, but it felt like a mile.
As she reached the front door of her apartment, she let out a gentle sigh and rummaged through her bag to find the keys. Once she found them, she inserted the key into the lock and turned it, hearing the familiar click.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside, feeling the cool air conditioning hit her face. Something about the atmosphere felt different than usual. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but an inexplicable unease crept up on her. Despite this, she took off her shoes and walked further into the house, trying to shake off the feeling.
As she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen, she felt a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. That's when she finally noticed her living room light was on, casting a warm glow on the walls.
But as she peered into the room, her heart stopped. Someone was sitting on her couch, their figure illuminated by the light. Panic set in as she tried to make out the person's identity, but then she recognized the mask immediately. Relief washed over her as she realized that there was nothing to fear.
"So, you break into homes? That doesn't seem very friendly" Hermione says with a smirk, causing Spider-Woman to jump up to her feet and turn towards her. Apparently, she had snuck up on the hero.
As Hermione approached her, she could sense a slight hesitation in Spider-Woman's demeanor. However, she quickly composed herself and greeted her.
"Oh, hi!" she said, her fake voice betraying a hint of nervousness.
"Uh, I don't usually do this...well, yes, I do. But for good reason!" She paused for a moment, placing her hands on her hips as if to steady herself. Her head darted around nervously before settling back on Hermione.
"You know, you should really be locking your windows, just in case wall-climbing...robbers become a prevalent issue," Spider-Woman suggests, her tone faltering slightly as she realizes the irony in her statement.
Hermione chuckled softly and placed her food on the small table behind the couch, watching as the hero seemed tense. This must have been a spontaneous decision.
"Anyways, I wanted to give you a better interview, since you had been willing to risk being crushed by a two-ton man to just speak with me" she continues with an awkward chuckle as she put her hands behind her back and laced her fingers together.
Hermione, with a gentle smile on her face, slowly walks around the couch with her fingers trailing along the armrest. As she makes her way towards the masked superhero, she speaks up.
"You must be feeling quite important. After all, you are the one who essentially controls the content of the front page of The Daily Bugle," she says as her eyes meet the mask, and she stands before her, waiting for her response.
"Owner? That's a little...overstated" Spider-Women replies as she steps back slightly as Hermione gets closer.
"Exaggerated? I don't think so, you have been on the front page more than Mayor Osborn" Hermione hums, her eyelids were low as she held a soft gaze with the eyes of the mask. Spider-Woman felt her fake voice starting to falter again, so she cleared her throat in hopes of keeping it up.
"Well, I'll make sure to send him a fruit basket as an apology," she says as Hermione chuckled and sat on her couch, legs crossed over the other as her eyes slowly trailed up the hero's body.
This wasn't the same woman she had saved earlier in the day, there was thick obvious tension between them now, but Spider-Woman had no idea why.
Well...she had a slight idea.
Spider-Woman, her red and blue costume tightly hugging her form, rested her hands back on her hips and looked down at Hermione. The young woman's face was flushed and her hands were balled into the couch cushion.
Spider-Woman's sharp eyes scanned Hermione's face before she slowly sat down on the coffee table across from her. The vigilante's movements were graceful and calculated as if she was always in control of the situation.
Then suddenly, Hermione sat up straight and seemed to calm in an instant, her arms crossing over her chest as she appeared to return back to normal. This girl was hot & cold.
"Would you mind giving me a longer interview?" Hermione asked innocently. Spider-Woman nodded slowly and rested her elbows on her thighs.
"Of course, uh, whenever you're ready" she replies as Hermione pulls out her phone and begins to record with the voice memos.
"My first question is, is it true that you have been taking the time to clean up the shores?" Hermione asks, but it is obvious that she isn't all that interested in Spider-Woman's environmental protection ideals.
"I try my best since fish is one of our main food groups in New York. We don't need people to get sick from any of them" Spider-Woman replied as she rubbed her hands together. A nervous tick perhaps?
"Alright..." Hermione hums as she shut off the recording, which piqued the hero's interest immediately.
Hermione reached behind her and grabbed the plate of food from the small table that was pressed up against the back of the couch.
"Well, that was quick," Spider-Woman chuckled, referring to the speed at which the interview had ended. The aroma of the freshly cooked food still lingered in the air, making both of their stomachs growl.
"I have a few...off-the-record questions for myself than the paper" Hermione explained as she opened the bag and handed her one of the spring rolls she had ordered.
Spider-Woman gave a soft 'thank you' as she hesitated to lift her mask up to her nose. Hermione didn't even look up as she grabbed the two forks from the bottom of the bag and handed her one as well.
The hero then slowly rolled up her mask until her nose and chin were the only things visible. That's when Hermione finally looked up.
Her pupils dilated like wide saucers, but she didn't express anything outwardly that would suggest something was off. So, when she held the tin container full of orange chicken and lo mein between them, the crusader thought nothing of it.
(A/N: ngl, I'm running out of ways to say 'hero')
Spider-Woman sat at the table, her eyes fixed on the steaming plate of Lo Mein in front of her. She couldn't resist the temptation any longer and picked up her fork, twirling it around in the tangle of noodles until she had a perfect bite.
"I love Lo Mein," she confessed. Across from her, Hermione watched with amusement, a soft smile playing on her lips. She picked up a piece of orange chicken and popped it into her mouth, relishing the burst of flavor.
"I know you do, you get it every Friday after work," she says simply, which causes the hero to freeze, the spring roll almost falling out of her mouth.
Hermione continued nonchalantly as she ate, while Spider-Woman stared at her. Oh how much she wished Vulture or Mr.Negative would burst in here, just so she could get out of this conversation,
"H-How did you...I don't know what..." she trailed off in her real voice as Hermione looked back up with a sly smile, almost teasing in a way.
"At first I thought it was just a coincidence that you were the only person who got special treatment with the Spider Duo because I knew that a few people in the Bugle have been able to get connections with other Heroes and Villains alike" Hermione starts as she ate another piece of chicken, chewing it for a few moments before speaking again.
"But then I noticed your tardiness, your ability to basically disappear and reappear at incredible speed, the random bruises, but again, I just thought it was a coincidence" she continues as Spider-Woman just stared dumbfounded. Hermione put the tin container down beside her and gave her full attention to the woman across from her.
"Then today-"
"I have to go," Spider-Woman says abruptly getting up from her seat, her words echo in the room. With the spring roll still dangling from her teeth, she strides swiftly towards the open window, her hair fluttering in the wind.
Her agile movements and aura of determination suggest that she's on a mission, and nothing can stop her. The bright city lights outside seem to beckon to her.
"Y/n."
Y/n froze in her tracks, her eyes fixed on the window. As Hermione stood up and walked towards her, Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, and her palms became sweaty.
She tried to move, but her legs felt like they were made of lead. Finally, when Hermione was close enough, she placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder and gently turned her around to face her. Y/n's eyes met Hermione's intense gaze, and she couldn't help but feel vulnerable under her gaze.
Without another word, Hermione reached up and pulled off the rest of the mask, and smiled like a little schoolgirl.
"There's my favorite photographer" she whispers as she holds the mask in one hand and takes hold of the spring roll as well.
Y/n and Hermione are standing face to face, gazing into each other's eyes. The moon is shining bright, casting a warm glow on Hermione's face.
"How did you know?" Y/n whispers softly, her eyes are filled with wonder and curiosity as they exchange glances. The night is quiet and peaceful, and the only sound is the soft honking of the hussle of the city.
"It's silly really, but that fake voice you were using, is the same one you use to mock Jameson's podcast" Hermione chuckles as Y/n couldn't help but flush at her own stupidity.
"Oh...oh that makes sense," she says as she clears her throat and looks down at their feet for a moment. Hermione just smiled as she placed the spring roll back in her mouth and gently pushed her toward the window, both of them hearing the roaring of sirens nearby.
"You're secrets safe with me, now go kick some ass" Hermione continues as she placed the mask back around her eyes and above her nose. Y/n grinned and slowly stepped backward toward the window.
"It's really nice to have another ally," Y/n says as she takes a final bite of the roll and speaks with her mouth full. She then pulls down her mask all the way, hiding a relieved smile on her face. The weight of the world seems to have been lifted off her shoulders as she welcomes the newfound support.
"I still expect a full interview tomorrow," Hermione says with a smile as she leans against the wall and watches Y/n back up slightly.
"It's a date" Y/n replied as she took a running start and jumped out the window. Hermione walked over to the windowsill, leaning down, and resting her forearms on it. Her chin found itself atop them as well, watching as Y/n swung away toward the boys in blue.
She smiled softly.
"It's a date"
151 notes · View notes
moonystoes · 3 months
Text
Safe Dance - Elisa De Almeida x international!reader
summary: this pretty much explains it all lol.
Warning: Sexual assault, old man being a creep, mentions of alcohol, not well written, slowww burn like it's pissing me off too im sorry, elisa being our protective queen.
a/n: i'm bringing this up again, i just started writing, especially fics as long as this (the last one -and the first- had only 500 words). So feedback and help is needed!! also sorry i got a little bored and wrote too many useless things lol.
w/c: 5.218k
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You knew you needed to celebrate your high GPA after graduating from your bachelor degree at some point. But you've been putting it off, feeling like it's too much effort and energy for your introverted self. It's no secret French people are distant towards foreigners, it's been something known worldwide (which is ironic since a big part of their population are people of color coming from different countries from Africa and Asia). But you ignored all the toxic things you heard about France when you unexpectedly got a scholarship into the University of Paris.
Now, four years later, you are still alone. You have made friends in some projects, but right when the project is over, your friendship ends as well. Your mom has messaged you a long paragraph on how proud she is of you, but the loneliness is still wearing you down. You knew you probably looked silly walking down the street, wearing a short V-neck dress with high heels obviously to party, but there is a permanent frown on your face.
When you looked up from your phone, you didn't even need to look for the club. You can feel the music vibrate the ground and there is a huge line at the entrance. You turned off your phone and waited in line, wanting to just drink all day and celebrate by then. You checked on your friend (an international student like you) who promised that she'll be here, but your message was left on delivered for 2 hours. 
After 15 minutes of scrolling through your Instagram and 3 missed calls to Liz, it was your turn to show the security your ID. His dark eye bags showed you that he was too exhausted to care, so he took less than a second to glance at your card before returning it to you, and opening the door for you in a frustrated way.
You walked in awkwardly, couples grinding and dancing around you, you felt disgusted - and secretly jealous. The club was dark and had red LED lights, it was filled with large posters of icons and models from the 70s, and of course the playboy magazines of women wearing lingerie. It looked good enough for you to settle down on the bar stool and immediately order a light drink. 
While you were sitting there to decide whether you should dance or wait for Liz (you were honestly frustrated at her for ditching you with no explanation), the bartender passed a large drink towards you. You glanced at him with a confused look, “oh sorry, I didn't order this.”
“Yeah I know, it's the man there.” He pointed to the table on your left, to an older man with thin white hair. Your jaw dropped when you looked at him, realizing that he caught you staring.
“Umm… that old man?” You tried your hardest to whisper over the thudding music, trying not to let the creep that is sitting just 2 meters away from you hear what you said. The bartender nodded and walked away to the other side of the bar, making you sigh in annoyance that he didn't bother to even help you out. You slowly pushed the light pink drink away from you, it smelled strong which showed his true intentions, getting you drunk.
You pulled out your phone and texted Liz a quick message, “Liz a man is being weird where are you ☹️☹️?” You scrolled through your gallery to pretend you are doing something and distract yourself from the man on your left, until you are tapped on the shoulder. You froze, quickly turning off your phone as you took a deep breath, pretending that you didn't feel it.
“May I know why you didn't accept the drink, it was really expensive.” you flinched when you felt his breath hit your neck, no way this is happening today. Where the fuck is Liz? You turned around slowly, trying to act calm and collected, “sorry, I didn't want to drink today, I'm just here for someone.”
“I don't see anyone here,” he mockingly glanced around the bar to see the ‘person’ you were waiting for. “I saw you drink just a few minutes ago.”
You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. You glanced at his striking blue eyes and felt your hands starting to shake, you looked away back to the drink he ordered for you and grasped it, taking a small sip just to taste what it is. You knew you were fucked, Liz isn't here and she's probably not going to come, the bartender couldn't give a shit, and this man won't leave you alone. Why was he at a bar on a Wednesday night? Doesn't he have some office job to do tomorrow or is he too old that he's retired now.
The drink tasted sour and tangy, but had a strawberry flavor. The burning of your throat made you cough and your eyes shutting close, it was definitely alcoholic, very alcoholic. You rested the drink on the table and faked-smiled and awkwardly nodded, but your smile disappeared when his hand clutched your arm and pulled you forward, “why don't you dance with me, huh? Wearing this dress for nothing must be a shame.” 
You panicked and took a quick scan of your surroundings to see who could help. On the bar table to your left, there were other older men, possibly friends of the weirdo that's now bruising your arm. On the large leather sofas that were placed on the other corner, there was a couple?...a throple? A man was sitting comfortably on it as he crossed his legs on the mini table in front of him, two girls were sprawled over him, one playing with his hair and the other playing with his shirt while she chugs from a beer can…yeah they will be too busy to help.
You took a quick turn to the VIP entrance, seeing a short girl with a Gucci bag waiting to be let in… rich spoiled people are too busy to look around. You swore you never cared about religion until then, when the man tugged you to his chest, your eyes slowly closing as you were holding your tears praying to God to let you out of this misery.
You felt his hands being placed on your hips, as he forcefully tugged your back towards his groin. He pushed you to the crowded area so people can't see your discomfort in your face. 
But before he does more than this, a large hand tugged you away from the man, making the man behind you exhale loudly. “Anna! I'm sorry for making you wait, hey let's go…umm do you know him?” you've never heard such a soft yet deep voice like this. Before you even had the chance to look at who grabbed you, her right arm tugged you into her chest, trying to hide you from the stranger. “No, I don't.” You whispered, afraid of making the situation even bigger.
“Seriously? you were waiting for this…” His angry voice and arm pointing at the both of you made you anxiously stare at him. He looked at the woman hugging you up and down with disgust before muttering a ‘nevermind’ and stomping off.
You shakingly held tightly into her, staring at the spot the man was at. “Are you okay?” She let out a soft whisper from above your head. You were shaken at the whole encounter, blocking off what she said until you felt soft taps on your shoulder, making you look up at her.
This was the first opportunity you had to actually see who saved you from this, and she was gorgeous. She had sunglasses placed on the collar of her dress shirt with two of the buttons opened. Why was she even wearing a dress shirt at a club? When you looked up to her face (because she's 5 '9 and the first thing you saw was her tan skin), her hair was short, swooped to the side. Her cheekbones were sharp and her eyes were furrowed worriedly. You quickly separated from her and took two steps away.
“Hey, it's okay.” She took a step forward, opening her hands around her face to show you she doesn't want to hurt you, “are you waiting for someone?”
You looked away from her eyes, the smell of alcohol and sweat is making it difficult for you to think straight -literally. You looked at your phone, finding a new notification, “oh thank God she responded!” You relaxed, until you pressed on it.
“Hey baby!! It's your favorite uncle 😉, just saw your post about graduating. Congratulations! I miss you so much. Maybe one day we can all reunite when you graduate your masters 💪keep working hard!”
You inhaled deeply, turning off your phone and throwing it in your mini purse. You looked at the woman, she looked at you with raised brows waiting for an explanation for your reaction. You rested your hand on your forehead and frustratedly groaned out, “no she fucking ignored my messages.”
Her face turned sour as she looked behind you, probably to the place where the old men were sitting, giving you the chance to look at her face once again. You blushed at her clenched sharp jaw, slight pink cheeks, and the soft lips. When you looked back at her eyes, she was already looking at you.
You internally wanted to kill yourself for looking at her lips, because she definitely caught that. You looked away to her arms, doing everything in your power to not look at her face again. But then you realized glancing at her arms will make the situation even worse. Her arms were athletic and the sleeves were tight around her biceps. How is she this hot?
“You can stay with me, my friends are here.” She softly grasped your hand, pulling you away from the crowded dance floor. “It's fine, I'll just go home.”
“No, come on! It's a secluded area, no one will bother us.” She encouraged you, her hand still in yours. You looked down at your heels, you felt like shit. This whole time at the bar was for you and Liz to celebrate your day and you end up being a charity case for a hot woman. You don't even know why you chose the club, you hated partying anyways. You bit into your lip, one single line going through your head:
I deserve to celebrate my achievements no matter with who. I'm the one who worked hard for this, I need this.
“Okay just… Please don't do this because you feel bad for what happened.” her eyes softened, intertwining your fingers with hers and whispering a soft ‘never’. You felt embarrassed as she was dragging you around the bar to the place her friends are staying at, you didn't want to see anyone’s face so you just looked down at your intertwined hands and hoped you won't collide with anyone. Your hand looked small compared to her large ones as she held into you, feeling her rough skin tightly around yours.
When you realized she stopped, you looked up to where she took you. “Oh no… I'm not going there,” You frowned at her, “VIP? I heard it's expensive here.” You felt guilty that she might spend money on a spot for you, but you were curious on how she makes enough money to be here.
“Don't worry, my work has paid for the night here, I didn’t spend a euro on me or anyone.” She smiled at you, finding it cute how you were worried about her money. She let go of your hand and opened the door slowly, signaling her hand to follow her.
You stood still for a few seconds, feeling exhausted and tired. And unfortunately, you felt gross. You looked down at your dress, remembering what the old man said. It was your favorite, it may not look fancy but you've loved it and waited for a moment to wear it, now you can't even glance at it without feeling down. You glanced at the woman, she had already taken a few steps until she realized you weren't following her, “Do you want to go home? I can order you an Uber?”
This was your chance to actually get to know someone, you've been alone all this time in Paris and Liz was an American student. The woman in front of you seemed like the first French woman that actually tried to befriend you, and she's attractive. Her face softened as she took a few steps towards you again, understanding your silence. “My name is Elisa, what's yours?”
“Y/n.” You didn't know what to do after this so you reached out your hand to handshake her, internally cringing from how awkward you are…no wonder why your love life is as low as your mood today. She giggled and grasped your hand, shaking it aggressively. You looked at her with a confused face and she just winked quickly, “so… y/n why are you here at the club on a Wednesday night?”
“I just graduated so I wanted to celebrate.” You were staring at your held hands, feeling awkward when looking at anyone's eyes, especially élisa's. But when you felt her hand immediately let go of yours and wipe it off with her dress pants, you looked at her face slightly hurt. Her eyes are slightly widened, which made you realize why she let go of your hand, “bachelor degree in physical therapy.”
“Ohh! That's so nice. You know at my job we need a lot of physiotherapists, I like them.” Her body physically relaxed, making you laugh at her panic. The poor woman thought you were some high school student, but you didn't blame her, you never made it clear when you spoke about it.
“Cool… what do you work as?” You asked, a smile appearing in your face. You didn't realize that by a small comment, Elise made your feelings better just as she planned. She let out an open smile when she noticed yours, feeling proud of herself for making you feel better.
“Guess.” 
Your smile wiped off your face, “no please I don't like doing this game just say it.”
She laughed, “I'll give you a hint, I wear number 5.”
It took a moment for you to answer because you froze when you heard her laugh, making a stupid grin plaster into your face, “...football?” You dragged the word as you questioned, worried it might be wrong. She nodded with a proud smile.
“Wow, that's so cool I do watch football!... not the women, I don't know where to watch…sorry.”
She laughed, stepping closer and resting her left arm around your shoulder, encouraging you to walk through the dark maroon hallway with her. “It's okay, we're used to it.”
When you looked up from this angle, your attraction worsened. Her side profile was perfect. It took a moment for you to recover from it, “ehm…some girls in my class wanted to be football physios so they could work with Szoboszlai.” You muttered, obviously not knowing what to say. You didn't know if you should wrap your right hand around her waist or just keep it awkwardly limping between the both of you.
She glanced at you and laughed, “and you? Is that what you wanted?”. You looked away, deciding to focus on the dark walnut wood corridor in front of you instead of her eyes. “I don't really like men.”
“Ha! Me too.” Her left arm tapped your shoulder to the beat of the music. Elisa was glad that you weren't into men; she felt like it's finally her time where she can get attention from a woman that isn't a fangirl. She pulled you inside a room, filled with people singing and jumping around.
You felt sick all over again, not knowing Elisa had this many friends. You remembered her speaking about her work paying for this, are all of these people her teammates? The room was built almost like a sunken living room, the leather couches were placed into the ground around the walls with stairs in the side, and two small tables placed in two opposite corners that were filled with drinks and purses. Elisa felt your body turn rigid, she leaned in close to your ear and whispered gently, “They're all nice, I promise.” You turned to look at her, you didn't understand why but you felt at ease around her, maybe because of what she did earlier, but you took a deep breath and calmed down.
She pointed at an empty seat next to a blonde woman, “hey Jackie, this is y/n, she's a physiotherapy graduate.” Jackie turned to look at you and elisa, she smiled brightly and raised her hand to signal you to sit with her. You let out a tight-lipped smile and approached the table to sit. You noticed Jackie looking at your attire and glancing at Elisa with a confused look, but before she said a thing, Elisa interrupted her by saying she needed to go to the bathroom.
Well shit, now you have to do this alone. You stared at Elisa as she was walking out, secretly checking her out and also praying that she’ll come back soon. “Umm… do you work here?”
You turned to look at Jackie, “oh, no. I'm just here to party.”
“Ohh…I thought you were one of the dancers offered here.” She looked at her whiskey and took a sip, clearly not seeing the shock in your face.
You froze as you gave her a confused glance, “oh. You thought I was a stripper?” You glanced down at your dress… It's a short dress, yes, but a dancer? You had no disrespect for them, just felt a little confused. Does Elisa call dancers for a lap dance? Is this where she went to?
“Oh not your dress! It's just that Elisa never spoke about bringing someone here so I assumed. Also, you're really pretty.” She gave you a wink with her compliment.
You gave her a soft smile with a shy ‘thanks’. “Elisa isn't really into those things, that’s why I was kind of confused.” She nudged your arm when you glanced at the exit again, realizing that you were waiting for Elisa. After hearing what Jackie said, you relaxed into your seat and looked at your surroundings.
Everyone seemed drunk except one, her thick black hair was tied in a high ponytail, too engrossed with her phone to really notice anyone. The other players were dancing, some were singing loudly to some song by Aya, an icon in french music from what you noticed in the past four years living here. “May I ask how you know elisa?” Jackie asked.
“Oh we just met here so…” you shrugged, you didn't feel like telling anyone what actually happened. Jackie nodded, taking her purse into her lap and pulling things out, trying to find something in it. After a while of scrolling on tiktok and looking at the girls partying, Elisa came back in, immediately settling down next to you. You looked at her with a smile, glad that she's back, but your smile was wiped off when you saw her frustrated and sweaty state. When she noticed the worry in your eyes she leaned in closer to you, “Do you like this club?”
You were caught off guard from this question and nodded slowly, “good because I want you to come back here,” You were confused, obviously you'll never come here. It doesn't matter how nice and fancy this place is, after that weirdo, you'll never step foot here. “I kicked him out, he's banned from coming here again.”
“Wa- wait what?” You gasped, looking at the door she came back from, expecting to see him standing there. But he wasn't, and even from the small glass window on the door, you can see that his spot is now empty, as well as his friends’.
“I want you to feel safe celebrating your achievements, I know today has probably been shit.” You bit your lip, turning to look at Jackie playing with her now found camera. You couldn't look at Elisa's eyes or else you would cry. You felt her hand softly caress your shoulder, bringing your body closer to hers. “Thank you, I mean… I don't even know what else to say.”
She gave you a gentle smile and turned to look at her teammates singing karaoke now. “No problem, now do you want to sing and dance with them? Or just sit here?”
“I'll just sit here, you can have fun with them.”
She looked back at you, deciding to lean back into the coach and find a comfortable position. “I play for Paris Saint Germain.”
“What! No way…I feel like shit for not watching you play.” You gasped, psg is the biggest team in France. And that's probably because they are loaded with money and can afford the top players, but you wondered how powerful the women's team is.
She laughed, quickly shaking her head, “don't feel that way! I just wanted to tell you. We just got qualified for the quarterfinals of the champions league that's why they're all drunk and shit.” She tilted her head towards a player dancing on the table. You bit your lip trying not to laugh at the poor woman, but when you heard Elisa's cackle, you let out a little laugh.
“Quarterfinals to the champions league… that's great! That's so cool, honestly, you should go and dance with them!” You pushed her towards the women, but she didn't even budge. She winked at you when she saw you try to move her and held your arm down, “Are you actually trying to push me or are you playing around?”
You knew she was joking, she can tell your struggling face when you tried to push her. You glanced at the way she grabbed your forearm, feeling the blush coming around your cheeks. Her muscles tensed beneath her fitted black shirt, elisa has been trying to subtly send you hints without panicking too much. But she knew she needed to do something even more, so she let her hand slowly go from your forearm to your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. A shy smile broke out in both of your faces, looking up to see her already smiling at you. “Okay…maybe I do want to dance a little.”
You bite your lip and give her a soft nod, indicating that you wanted to dance with her. She grinned brightly and stood up from the couch, delicately pulling you with her. You felt content for the first time, you're finally going to dance and party like how you wanted before you came here in the first place. Elisa pulled you into her body, looking at your eyes to see if you're okay with her wrapping her arms around your waist. You felt speechless so you just nodded and dragged your hands from her forearms all the way to her shoulders, blushing at the feeling of her rough muscles.
Because you were busy trying to mask your flustered state, you didn't notice the panic Elisa was in. Her tightly wrapped hands were shaking and it seemed like she couldn't even glance at your face for three seconds without finding something else to look at. The girls had stopped singing karaoke now, the speaker playing some french afrobeats. “I forgot to tell you, I'm shit at dancing. I was planning on getting too drunk to care.” You admitted with a laugh, elisa tightened her hands around your waist, making your chest flush with hers. “Oh wait until you see me dance.” 
“You do realize this song isn’t for slow dancing?” You loved the feeling of her body against yours, but the idea of slow dancing to afrobeats in front of people is confusing you. “Shhh don’t ruin the moment now.” she joked, turning her head around the room, she looked back at you and said, “They’re all too drunk to care.”
You looked around the room, and fortunately she was right. The girls were all dancing, separated into multiple groups and only focusing on them. Even the sober one had stood up and was dancing with the rest. You rested your head on her shoulder, feeling like it doesn’t matter at this point what happens between you. Elisa will probably forget about you, and date an instagram model like every football player does -well… that’s what the male players do at least.
“You tired?” her velvety voice soothed you as she leaned her head on yours. You closed your eyes and hummed in response, not feeling like moving your body. You tried to excuse the exhaustion as the sickness from the old man, but throughout the semester, you have been sleeping 4 hours and only working and studying. And today has been the day you can finally rest.
Elisa moved her hands from your waist to wrap them around your shoulders instead. As much as she was worried about the possible rejection from you, she felt great about you being okay with her physical touches and wanted to enjoy the chance. She can feel your beating heart from the thin dress you’re wearing against her sternum. Elisa’s long fingers were playing with the hem of the dress from your neck, her body slowly rocking as if she’s putting a baby to sleep.
“Thank you,” You whispered, opening your eyes just to see her jaw. “For today. I may not seem happy, but I am really grateful for this, I’m happy.”
“Do you want to go home?”
You stayed silent for a few seconds, before letting out a short breathy laugh, “Is it obvious I don’t like to party?” You didn’t want to offend her, especially after what she did.
“I can call an uber for you, or I can drive you home if you don’t feel safe.” You almost wanted to cry at how thoughtful she is, but you knew you needed some alone time after all of this. Also, the thought of parting ways with Elisa and her completely forgetting about you is eating you alive.
“Thank you, but I’ll feel very guilty if I take you away from the party you should be celebrating.” You let go of the tight embrace you were in, looking at her eyes to let her know how much you meant it. She sighed and nodded with a small hidden frown in her face. Elisa felt like a child attached to a toy, she was worried to let you go and never find you again. Now that she kicked the assaulters out, she hoped you’d come to the club more often.
“Okay, I’ll walk you out.” She held your hand and walked you out of the VIP entrance. The smell of sweat and alcohol hit you in the face, the club is even busier now since it was around 10 at night. Elisa pulled you to her body, putting her arm around your shoulder protectively in case someone does a thing to you. Once you reached the closest exit, she pushed the heavy door and let you go out.
“Ehm… Can I have your phone number?” Elisa suddenly blurted, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye, so she said the lamest thing she thought, “Just to make sure you went home safe…you never know what can happen.”
When Elisa asked that question, your heart started beating faster, your worry about losing her is now out of your head, feeling glad that she wanted to contact you. But after her explanation, you sighed in disappointment, she’s probably not interested in you, she wants to know if you went home safe only.
“Yeah, okay.” You opened your hand, waiting for her to hand you her phone. She pulled out her phone from her front pocket, and passed it to you quickly. Her palms were sweaty from anxiousness, and she hoped her sweat wasn’t all over the phone. She knew she fucked up, she could’ve told you the truth but instead she acted like some sick teenager, and it made her even more annoyed with herself when she saw the excitement in your face disappear like fog. She wanted you to know she’s interested in you. You typed your phone number quickly, before giving it back to her with a tight smile.
“Bye-Bye,” You stepped back, still facing her. “Again, thank you for today.” You gave her a small wave, and then turned and walked your way back home. She was invading your thoughts, her face, her smile, her deep yet delicate voice, her body, and the fact that she’s a professional player that can get anyone she wants.
Once you reached home, you looked at your phone notifications, there were none. 0 from Liz, and 0 from Elisa. You cussed yourself, why would she even bother to text you? She is the hottest woman you’ve ever seen, you probably look like charity work next to her exes. You boiled water for instant noodles, feeling too low to even worry about making dinner. After eating the soggy cheap noodles, you turned on the bathtub faucet and added some oils to calm you down and distract you from Elisa. You contemplated on searching up her name and see what google says about her, but you forced yourself to not even look up a picture of her. She clearly doesn’t care about you, why would you care about her?
After the 30 minute depressing bath, you plopped into the bed, not bothering to put the blanket over you. You suddenly heard a notification ding from your phone. Closing your eyes tightly, you swore that if it's Liz you'll run to her house barefoot to yell at her. When you heard another ding, you opened your eyes slowly and reached out for your bedside table.
[Unknown number]
I'm sorry
I was acting like a kid around u I wanted to ask you out but I got too shy
Can I take you to dinner one day?
You bit into your lip harshly, trying so hard to suppress your blush. You thought about it for a second, you weren't mad because she couldn't ask you out in front of you. You couldn't do it either, and you were also flattered to the thought of her being too shy in front of you. It felt as though she was the confident one there. It didn't matter anyways, what mattered is that you wanted to be hers. And if this date is the first step, you'll take it.
[You]
Okay
Only if I can go and watch you play on the quarterfinals
[Elisa ⚽️]
Really??
YES OF COURSE
Only with my jersey 😉
You turned off your phone and banged your head into the pillow, grabbing your phone again to send her a quick message.
[You]
Of course
I'm going to sleep rn
Good night 💞
[Elisa ⚽️]
Good night 😴
You turned off your phone and closed your eyes, immediately sleeping from the exhaustion of the day.
[Elisa⚽️]
The dress looked perfect on you.
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devilishchaos · 11 months
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The one where your water breaks | Rúben Dias imagine
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Rating / genre: pure fluff
Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias
Summary: The moment your water breaks.
Warnings: can't think of any beside use of pet names "baby girl", "babe", "baby"
Word Count: 628 words
This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
“Babe.” Nothing.
“Baabe.” you called louder, but again, nothing.
Then you pulled out the one you knew for sure was going to work.
“Baaabe help.”
“What happened? Are you okay? Is it time?” Your husband rushes into the bedroom only in a towel wrapped around his waist. Hair wet. So hot. What a view. You allow yourself to gawk at him for a couple of seconds, then you remember why you called him.
“No. I can’t get up. Help, please.” Rúben chuckles softly at you, figure buried underneath the covers of the king sized bed, hands reaching our for him to grab and help you up.
“Here, I got you. On three. 1-2..” He leans over, links his forearms under your armpits then pulls you up.
“-3. God. When is this baby going to come out?” You whine.
“You’re adorable pregnant. The waddle is iconic.” He states, giving your temple a kiss before he let’s go of your hands once he's sure you regained your balance.
And he’s being honest. He’s been enjoying watching you walking around with a huge belly and a small pout. It’s been the best when the days were easy on you. No pain, no nausea..On days when it was too much, he internally conversed with the little one, trying to convince her to come out sooner. That’s when he stops enjoying it, when you’re struggling.
“This..” You point to your swollen tummy. "..is your fault.”
“Well it took two, didn’t it?” He smiles as he speaks knowingly. You know he’s joking. It’s annoying but true.
“It’s been 41 weeks tho. I’m about to request an extra fee.” Your hand caresses the tiny bump within your bump where he has his foot rested now. It’s never not weird. But cute nonetheless.
“Baby girl, the accommodation was for 39 weeks. Start packing up already. Rent is due.” You said while looking down at your bump.
Your husband also puts his hand on top of yours to join the conversation. “Does she have a penthouse or what in there? Sure seems very comfy.” Your heart swells whenever you three have a moment like this. Another reason why you want her here with you two. You get to feel her every second of the day but you want Rúben to form the same bond you feel like you have with her. For him to hold her..
“She sure will be a spoiled one.”
“Yeah. Daddy will spoil his girl.” You raise a brow. It takes him a second, then he catches it. “-sss. Girls. My girls.”
“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” You smirk, then go on to ask “Daddy, why don’t you spoil the one who’s actually physically here by giving her a backrub?"
“Let me change into something first.” He looks down to remind you he’s naked under that towel. You feel your cheeks get hot at the thought, as if you’ve never seen what’s underneath. The hormones. God, it’s been too long.
“Make it quick.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Same goes for you little one. We can’t wait to meet you. And I can’t wait for these back and pelvic pains to go away. No offense.” You said while continuing to rub on your belly.
Something’s wrong.
“Is she offended?” You dumbly think to yourself.
What the..?
“Babe!” You gasp. Wait. Oh. Is this..?
“Coming. Can’t find my hoodie. Be there in a second. Oh there it is!”
“Rúben!" You call for him louder this time despite the nerves kicking in.
“Babe, I said I’ll rub your back. I ain't going nowhere. Relax."
“Baby, please, come here right now!” you squealed.
“I’m here. What’s-”
“I-I think my water just broke.” You say with wide eyes as you feel liquid slide down your legs. Oh boy, It’s happening.
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kumquats-are-gay · 5 months
Note
sparing with Johnny, and you pin him down only to find that he's rock hard, maybe some teasing/sex? idk idk
(TF YOU MEAN “idk”?? THIS PROMPT IS HEAT AND I’M ‘BOUTTA COOK!! 🔥💯😤)
Johnny Cage x gn!reader (SFW/NSFM)
NOTE: This will be a two-parter because I just couldn't wait to post what I had already, lmao. This first part only has sexual themes and foreplay, while the second part will have actual smut (also, while this first part is totally GN, the second part will be mentioning afab anatomy, but I will still be using GN pronouns). I'm sorry this took so long to get to; I've been working almost every day for the past two weeks and ya girl is tired, lol. Was super excited to write for this though! :D
ALSO I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW ACTUAL FIGHTING WORKS I JUST MADE SHIT UP LMAO PLS DON'T COME AT ME
Pasted straight from Google Docs and NOT proofread, so please excuse any grammatical/continuity errors/syntax and formatting. I am also still VERY much an amateur writer so pls go easy on me <3
AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51869623
Come On With a Come-on
         For a ‘professional’, Johnny Cage is about the least professional person you’ve ever met. Propriety must be a foreign concept to him with how frequently he flirts with you, especially on set—you know, in front of all of your colleagues and crew? The man was shameless in his relentless pursual of you, like a goddamn dog with a bone. And worst of all? You liked it, and this fact frustrated you to no end. 
         How could you possibly be attracted to someone who is so insufferably arrogant, loud-mouthed, and impossibly far up his own ass? An ass that, admittedly, you find yourself staring at whenever you think he isn’t looking. But, because you’re an actual professional, you’ve rebuffed his every attempt to seduce you thus far. Plus, you had a reputation to keep and dignity to hold onto; you weren’t sullying either when the likely outcome would involve your face and name on countless tabloids. 
         Without warning, his stupid, smug, and incredibly handsome smile invades your mind, and you suddenly find yourself wanting nothing more than to punch it off of his unfairly chiseled jaw.
         …or maybe kiss it off.
         “Grah!” you abruptly shout while burying your hands in your hair, momentarily tugging at the roots in annoyance. God, you had a problem. 
         Bzzt.
         “Huh?” You look down at your hip where your phone had just buzzed in your pocket. You pull it out and flick your finger across the screen to unlock it, then tap on the messaging icon.
         Johnny Cage: Hey, wanna spar later? 👊👊
         You raised a brow. You and Johnny worked in the same sphere for a reason. Action films were your guys’ bread and butter since the both of you knew how to fight as well as do your own stunts. 
         You and Johnny hung out casually here and there, but the two of you had never sparred before. You sensed an opportunity in his proposal, though: an effective way to get your frustration out on the source of said frustration. Shrugging, you figure, ‘why not?’
         You: Yeah, I’m down. But I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into b/c I won’t be holding back!
         Johnny: Woah, don’t go threatening me with a good time ;) 
         Your stomach twirled in unbidden delight at the cheeky response, and you internally chastised yourself for being so easily affected by this man. You and Johnny sorted out the details of your meetup—his place, late afternoon—and returned your phone to your pocket. You would just have to kill some time until then.
~~~
         “Of course you would have your own gym, and of course it’s fuckin’ huge,” you joked with a bit of sarcasm, yet enough lightheartedness as to not offend. Though, you doubt Johnny could be so easily offended; he’s got way too much self-confidence (for better or for worse) to be put down that easily.
         “Oh, honey, you haven’t seen ‘huge’ yet,” he boasted with a smirk. The wink that followed did nothing to abate the heat that was slowly taking over your body, but you did your best not to let the effects show. Since when were easy, immature innuendos such a turn on for you? You just closed your eyes and shook your head.
         “Alright, I am definitely knocking you on your ass for that one.”
         “Hah, see if you can, sweetheart!”
         The two of you stood in your  respective corners and took your stances. One quick little countdown later, and the game was on. 
        You knew Johnny was a very good fighter being a martial arts expert and all, but you didn’t realize he was that good. In all honesty, you figured he was more bark than bite, and that you’d have no real problem going toe-to-toe with him. Unfortunately, it seems like you may have underestimated him. It turns out that Johnny Cage was one of the rare few you had met who could back up their arrogance. Bully for you.
        Furthermore, this shithead was fighting dirty! Well, okay—technically he wasn’t fighting dirty. He was just talking after all, and there’s nothing wrong or “illegal” with that. But it was a dirty tactic regardless, and it only infuriated you further with how helpless you were to try and block him out.
        You pivot sharply on one foot and  use the momentum to lift and swing the other around, aiming the kick at his head. You expect him to duck under such a high-reaching maneuver—maybe he’d follow up with a low sweep with your single foot planted on the ground—so you prepare yourself to counter this. See, before you went into acting, fighting was your primary activity; you won many tournaments and managed to make a decent living off of it. One of the main things you were known for were your notoriously powerful kicks; few would risk trying to outright block them rather than moving out of the way.
         You must have forgotten who you were up against; that was the only reasonable explanation for your short-sightedness. You were not distracted by him or anything like that, thank you very much. Johnny-fucking-Cage just lifts an arm and grabs your leg. With one hand. Like it was nothing.
         The impact creates a loud smack! that briefly leaves you dumbfounded; you felt the force of that blow against his palm, and it was enough to leave the skin there tingling unpleasantly. Johnny didn’t look phased in the least bit with a crooked smile dancing across his handsome features, just gripping your ankle. Casually. Like you weren’t currently being held in the near-vertical splits.
         Johnny took this fleeting opportunity to give you a quick once-over, and his smile only grew. “Nice legs,” he quipped, “bet they’d look a lot nicer over my shoulders.” You openly gaped at his brazenness, and he used your shock to his advantage, flipping you in one fell swoop. You grunted when your back hit the mat underneath you, but the heat that overwhelmed your person (caused by your anger and fury, obviously) had you back up in a flash.
         “Best two out of three,” you nearly seethed. Johnny had the audacity to appear as anything but intimidated. In fact, he seemed rather amused.
         “You know, you’re like, really hot when you’re mad.”
         You nearly flung yourself at him in a mindless bout of rage, but caught yourself only a split moment before you could make such a devastating mistake. A delightful idea quickly sprang to mind—two could play at this game. 
         You kept up the facade of indignation and outrage in order to trick Johnny into thinking that you actually were going to make that blind charge at him. You stepped off of your dominant foot, using the momentum to make a lunge for him. He braced himself to counter your head-on attack, but you feigned right at the last possible second, swiftly gripped his shoulder with your left hand, and brought your right leg in against the back of his knee to buckle it. Johnny was quick to recover, though, keeping enough of his balance to twist and grapple with you as his leg nearly gave out. 
         Ah, so it was time for plan B.
         Before he could finish off the move, you brought your face right up to his, making sure that the two of you were making eye contact, and looked at him with sensual purpose. It was almost enough to disarm him, so to ensure you had the upper hand, you threw him another curveball with a breathy, “I wonder if you fuck as good as you fight.” 
         That did the trick. Johnny’s mind was sent reeling with your seemingly out-of-pocket comment, and you jumped at the chance to knock him flat on his ass. Johnny got the wind knocked from him as he landed with a resounding thump. Not wasting a minute, you straddled yourself across his hips and held his wrists against the floor mat. While Johnny had more raw strength than you, you hoped that the KO would leave him dizzy enough to keep him subdued.
         “Ha! Gotcha!” you barked out in triumph. Johnny just blinked up at you in a daze as his response. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to handle the taste of your own medi-” you had cut yourself off when you felt something stiff beneath your pelvis. ‘What…? Wait, is he…’
         “Are you hard right now?!” you squawked incredulously. Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and gave you an audacious smirk, as if to say, ‘Uh, yeah I guess so. What about it?’ You were flabbergasted. “I can not believe you right now!” You released his wrists and made to get up, but he grabbed your hips before you could get away. Damn it, his body was so warm, and…holy shit he felt big.
         “Woah now, hang on just a tick,” he spoke like he was trying to soothe a startled horse. This fucking asshole! Why, just why did you have to fall for him? “It is very difficult not to pop a boner when I’m getting up close and personal to the most gorgeous person I know,” he spoke with an immense amount of charm and a surprising measure of sincerity. Your eyes widened comically before you squinted at him with a healthy amount of suspicion. 
         “Oh, really now? And I don’t suppose you’ve used that line with every other person you’ve taken to bed, hm?”
         Johnny just sighed like he was the exasperated one here. “Darling, I’ve been laying it on thick for half a year now. There’s no way I’d still be after you just to get into your pants.” He looked at you with this sort of ‘duh’ expression on his face, like he couldn’t possibly understand your confusion. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: you’ve got just the kind of body that I love,” he added, and you nearly clocked him then and there, but you relaxed again as he spoke further, “but I’ve come to really like spending time with you. There’s never a day that I don’t look forward to working with you on set, you know.” And, just like that, you felt like the stupidest person on the planet for denying yourself something that you evidently could have had for a long time now. 
         You hung your head low and shook it from side to side in disappointment of yourself. You fool. You buffoon. You absolute imbecile. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” Johnny took this the wrong way, looking offended, and opened his mouth to say something. However, you were quick to shut him up with a short yet firm kiss of which he wasted no time in returning. He ground his hips against yours in short, desperate thrusts like there would never be another chance to do so, and you eagerly mirrored his movements like they might be your last. Without warning, he rolled the two of you over to flip your positions. Sprawled out beneath him with your hands held beneath his own, Johnny thought you looked like a dream.
         “By the way, I think you’ll find that not only do I fuck as good as I fight, but I fuck like I fight, too—hard n’ fast,” he intoned in a voice nearly an octave deeper. 
         You squirmed in anticipation at his words, and retorted with equal huskiness, “let’s see it then.”
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mysweetlixe · 3 months
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✰ Whiskey and Wishes ✰
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Paring: |Hyunjin x Reader|
Genre: Angst and Rockstar au
Warning: Alcoholism and Emotional struggles
Summary: Hyunjin,struggling with alcoholism, faces a nightly drinking routine. One evening, he impulsively contacts his ex-girlfriend Y/N
Words: 3.2k
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In the dimly lit room, the rhythmic pulse of a melancholic melody resonated, echoing through the empty whiskey bottles that adorned the space.Hyunjin sat hunched over a worn-out acoustic guitar, his fingers deftly strumming the strings as he poured his heart out through the music. The room was cloaked in a haze of cigarette smoke, the scent clinging to every surface like a reminder of his vice.
The room, once a sanctuary of creativity and passion, now bore the weight of Hyunjin's turbulent existence. The walls, once adorned with posters of music icons that had inspired him, were now obscured by shadows and neglect. The floor, covered in discarded crumpled sheets of lyrics and shattered fragments of broken glass, mirrored the shattered fragments of his own soul.
Each night was a battle against the demons within him, a fight he waged with the help of his loyal companions - the whiskey bottle and the willing strangers who found solace in his bed.
They offered temporary respite from the pain that gnawed at him, a fleeting escape from the relentless demands of his fame. But each morning, as the sun broke through the cracks in his blackout curtains, reality crashed down upon him like a tidal wave.
Tonight was no different. As he strummed his guitar with an almost desperate fervor, his voice raw and hoarse from years of abuse, Hyunjin's eyes caught a glimpse of his reflection in the cracked mirror across the room.
The image that stared back at him was a mere shell of the talented artist he once knew himself to be – haunted eyes filled with regret and self-inflicted scars etched upon his heart.
As he reached for another bottle of whiskey, his trembling fingers betrayed his internal struggle by the simple act of gripping the neck. A sigh escaped his lips, a heavy exhale that carried the weight of a thousand failed promises and shattered dreams.
The amber liquid poured into the glass, its familiar burn offering a twisted comfort. It was a dance he knew all too well, this nightly routine of drowning his sorrows and numbing his pain.
But tonight, something within him shifted. Perhaps it was the haunting melody that reverberated through the room, or the remnants of a memory lingering in his mind. With a sudden surge of impulse, Hyunjin reached for his phone and scrolled through the contacts until his thumb landed on a familiar name – Y/N.
Their breakup had been tumultuous, fueled by constant arguments over his neglect and drinking issues. It was a toxic cycle that had eventually torn them apart, leaving both wounded and scarred. Yet, despite the pain it had caused, Y/N remained a ghost from his past that refused to fade away entirely.
In an unexpected twist of fate, Hyunjin pressed the call button without hesitation. The sound of ringing filled the room, each tone a reminder of what once was and what could have been. And just when he was ready to hang up in defeat, a soft voice answered on the other end.
"Hello?"
The word came out as a whisper, carrying with it a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat at the sound of Y/N's voice, a melody that had once brought him immeasurable joy. He took a deep breath, summoning all the courage he had left within him.
"Y/N... it's me," he managed to say, his voice laced with vulnerability. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his past mistakes and the uncertainty of what would come next.
There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line, as if Y/N was contemplating her response. Hyunjin's heart pounded in his chest, anticipation mingling with regret. Just when he thought she might hang up or unleash her anger upon him, her voice cut through the silence.
"I never thought I'd hear your voice again," she said softly, her tone filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. "What do you want, Hyunjin?"
His mind raced, searching for the right words to convey the depth of his remorse and desperation. But with each passing second, his resolve weakened, leaving only raw honesty in its wake.
"I miss you," he confessed, his voice barely audible over the distant sounds of traffic outside his window. "I need you."
The line crackled with silence once more before Y/N responded, her voice thick with emotion. "You can't just say those words, Hyunjin, and expect everything to be alright. We've been down this road before, remember?"
Hyunjin felt the weight of her words like a punch to the gut. She was right, of course. They had been down this road before, countless times, only to end up with shattered hearts and aching regret. But tonight, something inside him had shifted. It was as if he had reached a breaking point, no longer able to bear the weight of his own self-destruction.
"I know, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with a mix of desperation and determination. “ But please can you come over.”
Y/N's breath hitched at his plea, caught between the memories of their tumultuous past and a glimmer of hope for something different. She had witnessed Hyunjin's battle with alcoholism firsthand, had experienced the pain of being neglected and discarded in favor of his vices. It was a wound that ran deep, one that had taken time and self-reflection to heal.
As she listened to the vulnerability in his voice, an internal struggle ensued within her. Should she give him another chance? Was it wise to reopen old wounds and expose herself to potential heartbreak once more? Y/N took a moment to steady her racing thoughts, trying to make sense of the chaotic whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke with a mixture of trepidation and determination. "Hyunjin, I... I don't know if visiting you is the right thing to do. We've both been through so much pain, and it's taken me a long time to heal."
But as she uttered those words, a small flicker of hope ignited within her. Maybe, just maybe, this was an opportunity for closure, for both of them to finally confront the demons that had haunted their relationship. With a deep breath, Y/N made up her mind.
"Alright," she said firmly, her voice brimming with newfound resolve. "I'll come over."
Hyunjin's heart skipped a beat at her response. He had expected resistance, hesitation, maybe even rejection. But the fact that Y/N was willing to see him again, to give him a chance to make things right, filled him with a sense of exhilaration and hope he hadn't felt in years.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice laden with genuine gratitude.
Time seemed to both crawl and fly by as Hyunjin anxiously awaited Y/N's arrival. The walls of his apartment became stifling, suffocating him with the weight of anticipation. He paced back and forth, his mind racing with a flurry of thoughts and emotions.
In an attempt to distract himself, Hyunjin moved towards the grand window overlooking the city. The night sky was adorned with a tapestry of twinkling stars, their ethereal glow casting a gentle light over the world below. Yet, amidst this celestial beauty, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.
As he gazed down at the bustling streets, filled with people consumed by their own lives and worries, Hyunjin wondered how he had ended up here - a successful rockstar whose life had become entangled in a web of self-destruction. The adoration of fans, the exhilarating rush of performing on stage had once been his solace. But now, it seemed like a distant memory overshadowed by his battle with addiction.
The doorbell pierced through his thoughts, pulling him back to reality. Hyunjin's heart thudded against his chest as he made his way to the entrance. Opening the door, he found himself face-to-face with Y/N, her eyes reflecting both apprehension and resilience.
Her presence filled the room, an intoxicating combination of familiarity and the unknown. Hyunjin couldn't help but be captivated by her, his eyes drinking in every detail of her appearance. The way her hair cascaded down her shoulders, the soft curve of her lips, the subtle vulnerability that lingered in her gaze.
It was as if time had stood still, and all that mattered in that moment was the connection they shared. Without a word, Y/N stepped into his apartment, the air thick with anticipation.
The apartment floor was littered in empty bottles and discarded clothes, a visual representation of Hyunjin's descent into chaos. Y/N's eyes scanned the disarray, a mix of sadness and concern etching itself onto her face. She had always known about his struggles with alcoholism, but seeing the evidence in front of her was like a punch to the gut.
Taking a deep breath, Y/N forced herself to push past the mess and walked towards the worn-out couch, the centerpiece of Hyunjin's makeshift living room. She gingerly sat down, keeping her gaze fixed on him, searching for any sign of change or redemption.
Hyunjin's heart raced as he watched Y/N settle into his space. The sight of her sitting there, amidst the wreckage he had created, made him acutely aware of how far he had fallen.
He had once been the embodiment of passion and charisma, commanding the stage with his electrifying presence. Now, he was a mere shadow of his former self, drowning in regret and self-pity.
As he approached Y/N, Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a surge of emotions welling up inside him. The weight of their shared history hung heavily in the air, suffocating them both with its unresolved tension. He wanted to reach out, to hold her and tell her how sorry he was for everything he had put her through. But the words caught in his throat, trapped by fear and doubt.
Y/N's eyes bore into his soul, her silence speaking volumes. It was a mixture of disappointment and longing, a silent plea for him to find the strength to change. Hyunjin felt his heart break under her gaze, the realization of how much he had hurt her crashing over him like a tidal wave.
"I'm so sorry," he finally choked out, his voice laced with raw emotion. "I never meant for it to end up like this. I never wanted to hurt you."
Y/N's expression softened, a flicker of hope crossing her features. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice tinged with sadness. "I still care about you, but I can't keep living in this cycle of pain and destruction. You need to want to change, to seek help, if there is any chance for us."
Hyunjin's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took in Y/N's words. He knew deep down that she was right, that his reckless behavior had driven a wedge between them. He had pushed her away, neglected her needs, and drowned his sorrows in alcohol instead of facing his demons head-on.
But now, as he looked at Y/N sitting before him, her presence a beacon of hope in the midst of his darkness, something shifted within him.
The realization that he couldn't bear to lose her completely hit him like a freight train. He had to find the strength within himself to overcome his addiction and salvage what was left of their love.
"I want to change," he said, his voice quivering with sincerity. "I don't want this life anymore. I want you, Y/N."
A mixture of relief and cautious optimism washed over Y/N's face. She reached out and clasped Hyunjin's trembling hand, her touch offering him a lifeline amidst the storm. "I want to believe you, Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice filled with both vulnerability and determination. "But actions speak louder than words."
Hyunjin let his free hand caress her cheek as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. The familiar scent of her perfume mixed with the distinct aroma of alcohol on his own breath, a reminder of the battle he still had to overcome. His fingers traced the outline of her jaw, a gentle touch laced with both tenderness and remorse.
“let me prove it to you” Hyunjin said kissing Y/N softly, his lips moving against hers with a mixture of desperation and longing. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the intensity of their kiss, a bittersweet reminder of what they had once shared.
As the kiss deepened, Y/N felt a surge of emotions wash over her. The taste of Hyunjin's lips brought back memories of happier times, when love outweighed the pain and darkness. But she couldn't ignore the nagging doubt in the back of her mind, the fear that this could all be a temporary moment of weakness for Hyunjin.
Pulling away slightly, Y/N searched his eyes for any sign of sincerity. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice filled with both caution and hope, “We can’t go farther until you get help.” Hyunjin nodded “ I know but just for tonight.” Y/N looked at Hyunjin, her heart torn between the love she still felt for him and the fear of getting hurt once more.
She knew that giving in to his plea could mean falling back into the same destructive pattern they had been trapped in before. But she also couldn't deny the flicker of hope that burned within her, the belief that maybe, just maybe, this time things would be different.
With a heavy sigh, Y/N reluctantly nodded. "Just for tonight," she agreed, her voice tinged with both caution and longing.Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a surge of relief wash over him at Y/N's agreement. He knew that this was his chance, his one shot at redemption. The weight of his past mistakes seemed to momentarily lift from his shoulders as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against Y/N's once more.
Their embrace held a sense of urgency and longing, a silent promise that they would make the most of this night, despite the uncertainty that loomed over their heads. As they stumbled towards the bedroom, emotions ran high, a mixture of passion and trepidation intertwined.
In the dimly lit room, Hyunjin's body trembled with anticipation as he gently guided Y/N to the bed. He wished to savor every moment, every touch, as if it were their last. His hands roamed across her skin, tracing invisible patterns that only they understood.
Y/N felt her heart pound within her chest as she surrendered herself to the intoxicating familiarity of Hyunjin's touch. Her body responded eagerly to his caresses, but her mind still wrestled with doubt. Could this night truly be a turning point? Or would it be yet another painful reminder of the cycle they had been trapped in?
As their bodies moved as one, their connection deepened. Every gasp, every moan echoedmwith the raw intensity of their longing. The air was thick with the scent of desire, mingling with the faintest hint of alcohol on Hyunjin's breath.
Outside, the city bustled with life, oblivious to the storm that raged inside their small room. In this moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in existence, locked in an eternal dance of love and pain. Every touch, every kiss, became a symbol of their shared past, a testament to the strength of their love.
Despite the darkness that lingered between them, they were united in this one perfect moment. As dawn approached, Hyunjin knew that he had to leave their bed and face the world that awaited him. But for now, they could lose themselves in each other, in the pure, unadulterated ecstasy of their reunited bodies.
As night turned to day, Y/N slipped from Hyunjin's arms and disappeared into the bathroom. In the mirror, she saw her reflection, her eyes swollen from tears and her skin glistening with sweat. A mixture of relief and regret washed over her as she wiped away the remnants of her emotions.
Y/N knew that this fragile truce between them was a fragile illusion, a temporary respite from the reality that still awaited them.
She couldn't ignore the fact that Hyunjin's battle with alcoholism had torn them apart in the first place. It had been a constant source of pain and heartache, an endless cycle of broken promises and shattered trust.
As she stood there, contemplating her next move, Y/N's mind flooded with memories of their tumultuous relationship. The late nights spent waiting for Hyunjin to come home, the countless arguments fueled by his neglect and inability to face his demons. The scars they both carried ran deep, etching their mark on their souls.
But there was something different about the way Hyunjin had called her last night. His voice held a hint of desperation, a plea for redemption that echoed through the phone lines. It was as if he had finally hit rock bottom and was willing to do whatever it took to climb back up.
Y/N couldn't deny that part of her still loved him, despite everything they had been through. And maybe, just maybe, this fleeting moment could be the catalyst for change. She yearned for a future where they could rebuild what was broken, where their love could triumph over their past mistakes.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, Y/N found Hyunjin asleep on the bed, his body sprawled across the sheets. The sight of him stirred conflicting emotions within her.
She couldn't help but notice the vulnerability etched on his face, the deep lines that spoke of battles fought and scars earned. In this moment, she saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago, before their world fractured into a million jagged pieces.
Y/N approached the bed cautiously, her heart pounding in her chest. She picked up her clothes from the floor, slipped them on quietly, and walked towards the door.
But as she reached for the doorknob, an unexpected surge of empathy washed over Y/N. She couldn't just walk away, not when Hyunjin seemed so fragile and lost in his slumber. With a sigh, she closed the door behind her and silently made her way back to the bed.
Gently, Y/N sat down on the edge, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of Hyunjin's face. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, the rise and fall of his chest as he peacefully slept. It was a bittersweet sight—one that filled her with both longing and trepidation.
Y/N knew that one night together wouldn't solve everything. They had deep-rooted issues to confront, wounds that needed healing. But perhaps this moment, this unexpected twist of fate, was the universe's way of giving them another chance.
Leaning closer, Y/N softly kissed Hyunjin's forehead—a silent promise of forgiveness and hope. Then, with a newfound determination, she quietly rose from the bed once more, leaving a note beside him.
"I'll be back," it read. "Don't let this slip away."
With those words lingering in the air, Y/N gathered her courage and took her first steps towards a future that held uncertain possibilities. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that there would be moments of doubt and pain, but she was willing to fight for their love once more.
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quillthrillswriting · 12 days
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sooo.... anyone else ever wondered how different ATLA would have been if aang had been frozen at age 16 instead of age 12?
yeah... me too 😌 my new fanfic "the teenager in the iceberg" follows the events of the show, but with only aang aged up, while everyone else remains their canon age.
also...cmon....how funny is it to switch zuko and aang's iconic dialogue to "you're just a teenager!" "...so are you?"
this idea was originally inspired by the talented @allgremlinart's aged up aang drawings, so please go show them some love!!:)<3
enjoy the excerpts from chapters one and two!
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Aang chuckled, pushing himself up with his hands on his knees. He was… taller than Katara had realised, taller than Sokka. He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, turning to look over his shoulder at the remains of the boulder-sized chunk of ice he had just been blasted out of.  “Aang. My name’s Aang.” He hesitated, momentarily seeming to puzzle something over. “And honestly? No clue. Don’t remember how me and…Appa!” He yelped, suddenly scrambling back over the hill of ice and snow. Katara followed him without thinking, and Sokka, grumbling under his breath, followed moments later. 
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
“So, you’ve brought a monster to invade the village, then? You’re some incognito Fire Nation soldier sent in as an undercover scout? Well, I’ll have you know that I’m the village’s strongest warrior, a-”
“The only warrior,” Katara chimed in, lightly elbowing Sokka’s side, earning herself a responding glare. 
“The strongest warrior.” Sokka reiterated. “And I don’t much like firebenders.” He added the words pointedly.
“Ah.” Aang titled his head. “That’s a shame. Some of my closest friends are Fire Nation.”
“Of course they are,” Sokka glared, hunching over into a defensive position and adjusting his fishing spear until it pointed directly at Aang.
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Katara still wasn’t quite sure what to make of Aang. The Water Tribe boys had always been all flashy muscles, seal-jerky breath, and overconfidence, so Katara had never seen someone move, carry themself, the way Aang did. 
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Katara had admittedly forgotten how much fun penguin sledding was. “Spirits, I haven’t done this since I was a kid!” she called to Aang as he raced past her, surprisingly skilled considering that he’d never even seen a penguin until half an hour before. 
“You still are a kid!” He called back over his shoulder. “A kid who’s losing this race, badly !”
Katara’s competitive streak reared its head, her eyes narrowing as Aang stuck out his tongue. She sat up slightly, no longer gripping the penguin’s fur as tightly. “You wish!” She shouted back the words as she raised her hands, breathing deeply. Her hands moved through the positions she had practised from the few bending scrolls the tribe still held on to, and before Aang knew it, the snow in front of Katara turned to ice, and she shot past him as his own ice trail suddenly became dry snow with too much friction to slide on. 
She made it to the bottom of the hill, beaming, breathing heavily. The wind had whipped her hair out of her bun, and she knew without checking that her hair must have looked like a lion-turtle’s mane. She watched as Aang made a show of drying himself off with a gust of wind that he then redirected at her, messing up her curls even more. 
“You’re a cheater !” Aang gasped, mockingly clutching imaginary pearls at his throat. “I demand a rematch.”
Katara strode past him, only turning her head to cast him a smug smirk. “Maybe you’re just not as good of a penguin sledder as you thought .”
“Oh, not so fast!” Aang grabbed her wrist, tugging her back towards him, and she internally questioned why the momentary brush of their skin made her heart flip. He tried to trip her, she tried to flip him, and they both ended up on their backs in the snow, giggling, cheeks and noses bright pink from the cold. 
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
“Trouble sleeping too, huh?” Aang cocked a grin, tilting his head to Katara. She kept her eyes fixed upwards, trained on the moon and the stars, worried that if she looked away, she’d end up staring into his eyes like a weirdo. 
“I always feel so awake with the moon’s light on me. Sleeping under the stars has never really been a thing that works. It’s too energising, too… too much. It’s hard to explain.”
“No, no… I get it. I feel the same way in a windstorm, all those breezes and gusts of wind, it feels… exhilarating.” She watched through her peripheral vision as he looked up at the moon. “In times of war, I think we all tend to forget how spiritual bending is at its core. I’d say it’s a good thing that you’re in touch enough with the origins of your abilities to feel the moon’s pull tug at you just as much as it does on the ocean.” 
⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩
Aang smiled back. “Now is our time to try to make up for that. I can’t bring back everyone who was hurt in this war, and you can’t bring back your mother, but together, the two-, three of us can make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”
“I’d like that,” Katara exhaled, her breath calming down and tears dissipating. The two spent hours talking back and forth, exchanging the stories of their respective childhoods. Katara learned that Aang had invented several new bending moves and had been a big fan of fruit pies, while Aang learned that Katara had always been the bossier one between her and Sokka and that she had almost chipped a tooth on seal jerky when she was six. They continued talking back and forth in increasingly hushed tones until the world faded away under the cover of clouds and sleep.
Katara awoke to the loud shout of her brother. 
“Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” he yelped, chucking a rock-hard stick of seal jerky at both of them. 
“Ouch, Sokka !” Katara snapped at him, rubbing her head at the spot where she had been hit, before realising that she was leaning against Aang and immediately jumping away, blushing furiously. 
♥ check out the two chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->
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welivetodream · 9 months
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Re-read TSH.....AGAIN
Here are some weird/wtf/sad moments and details I had forgotten:
•Henry wrote a diary entry about murdering a guy 🤨.
•then forgets that Bunny is capable enough to translate the diary entries and find out about the murder.
•Richard has a random thought about r-wording Camilla out of nowhere (*What the fuck Richard vine plays in the background*) 😳.
•The first time Richard sees the twins he thinks they are a couple..........hmm (I was sus about that from the start) 😶.
•Richard had two pages of internal monologue about Henry being gay.
•There was broken stuff in the twins dorm, which was due to Charles trashing the house whenever he is mad at Camilla (FUCK CHARLES).
•Franics was making passes at Richard multiple times.
•Francis and Camilla kissed for some reason, twice.
•Richard only studied greek before to have a language class that's in the afternoon so he could sleep late in the morning (sometimes I feel like he survives only on pure instinct).
•Richard was constantly finassing his employer.
•Henry and Charles were ready to throw hands at Judy (do NOT touch the queen you freaks).
•Henry planned multiple murder options for Bunny (💫dumb ways to die💫).
•Richard had no problem being an accomplice in murder for people he barely knows.
•Bunny drops multiple hints about the murder the others did early on.
•Nobody tried to save Camilla way before if they knew Charles's controlling nature (Henry taking her away was the best thing he ever did).
•Camilla and Henry had secret telephone codes.
•Francis was forced to have a lavender marriage 😭.
•all of this shit went down during one academic year.
•Camilla's whole purpose was to give storylines to Henry, Charles and Richard. She deserved so much better than that. And I don't want her to ever stay around any of the guys of the group (except for Francis).
•Julian was blissfully aware of the obsessive nature of his students, and not only encouraged it but directly lit the fire that caused them to become who they are. (He tried to pull a John Keating from DPS, but he could NEVER be the Dark Academia teacher icon)
BONUS:
Tally of the members of the greek gang who have kissed eachother (NOT COUNTING THE BACCHANAL, where they all fucked.....Idk what happens in a bacchanal, I am too scared to research)
Camilla: 4 (Henry, Francis, Charles, Richard)
Francis: 3 (Charles, Camilla, Richard)
Richard: 2 (Francis, Camilla)
Charles: 2 (Francis, Camilla)
Henry: 1 (Camilla)
Bunny: 0 (RIP, I guess 😅)
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kykyonthemoon · 3 months
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A chocolate kiss
Childe prepared a sweet surprise for you on Valentine's.
Tags: Childe x F!Reader, High school/ modern AU, fluff, sweet, long distance relationship
1277w
— Masterlist
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Whenever it’s Valentine’s Day, you always felt a little down.
There were red and pink hues everywhere, along with flowers and hearts, chocolate, and candies. There were couples holding hands, chatting, and gently laughing everywhere you looked. And it was always you who was alone. It was true that you had a love interest, but he was thousands of miles away.
You and Ajax had been in this relationship for three years now. He was originally an international student from Snezhnaya. As soon as feelings began to bloom between you two, he had to return to his country.
You still maintained this relationship since he left. Long distance calls, photos posted on each other's walls, gifts sent through the mail... Long distance love was not a problem for you. But sometimes, on holidays like this, I felt sad.
You wished Ajax were here. In person, not through a screen. In your head, you made up a whole list of things to do together when he came; places to visit, meals to eat together. You could even imagine your reaction to those. Those things made you happy for a moment, and then, when reality reminded you that you never knew when your dreams might come true, you just wanted to cry.
And yet, you had never, ever caused Ajax to worry. Always radiant, you were behind the screen. You just told him about the things that made you laugh. As for what made you cry, you chose to keep it to yourself. You knew, that Ajax himself was very upset for not being there with you. You would not bring him any more trouble.
"Hey, what do you want for this Valentine's Day?" 
Voices from Ajax emerged on both sides of the headgear. You smiled, resting your head on the giant teddy bear he had given you on another occasion.
"I love everything you send me, really."
Ajax grinned. His hair was a mess. He remained in bed. It was early morning at his place, and you had just finished dinner. 
"Then let me think about it!" A hand he reached up, pretending to pull out his hair. "What could bring happiness to my little lady? What might that be?
He muttered those things while you laughed. You only wanted one thing for the holiday, but it's something you shouldn't ask for.
"Ah! I know!" Ajax shouted. He jumped up causing the blanket to fall, revealing his bare chest. Oh, how you missed the feeling of burying your face in that spot. 
"I know what I'm going to give you." As he went on, you enquired:
"What is it?"
"A secret. I won't reveal it so soon." 
Ajax laughed mysteriously. You were curious. It was customary for you and Ajax to exchange gifts on important occasions, particularly Valentine's Day.  You did also prepare a gift for him, which you had not sent yet because you still hope to hand it over to him in person.
The conversation ended with a kiss through the screen. You turned off the phone, feeling both happy and regretful inside. Even more, you desired to be with Ajax. You wanted to feel the warmth of being in his arms, inhale his scent every time he squeezed you, feel his lips pour kisses all over your face and neck while you giggled. 
You only got those luxuries two or three times a year. You too had visited Ajax, but managing both of your schedules had proven to be a challenge. Then there were unexpected things, unplanned changes. Just like that, you felt the distance between you and Ajax getting further and further. 
At one point you thought about the end of this relationship. You loved Ajax so much, you knew he loved you too. It's just that your lives had taken a turn and parted in two different directions. But there was still some hope that the two of you would find a way to be truly together. 
On Valentine's Day, you sat at the café where Ajax and you used to spend hours after school. It was time for your date and you had not seen him yet. His icon on the screen stayed dark and silent. You did not know what he was doing. You glanced eagerly at the time, then back at the screen. 
Thirty minutes, an hour,... Then three hours had passed. You watched people come and go. The café was sparse. The closing time was also near. Your eyes swept over the laptop screen to check time again, then you shut it down in frustration.
You left the shop with a heavy heart. You pulled out a handmade wool scarf for Ajax from your pocket and held it in your arms. You were sad that he did not go online as he promised, and you were even more concerned about the possible reasons why he might not have been able to make it. Maybe he didn't have time to text you because he was preoccupied with something unexpected. Or even worse, perhaps he had encountered some kind of issue...
Your eyes started to flood up with tears just thinking about it. You sat on the sidewalk, looking at the narrow road in front. There was a couple of lovers holding hands who had just walked past; oh how much you longed to go with Ajax side by side like that. You started blaming yourself for being so selfish, wanting to keep him with you. The more you thought about it, the more your heart ached, and the more tears filled your eyes.
Then, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Once. Twice. After the third time, you turned around.
The familiar orange-red hair stood out in the middle of the street. The tall, thin figure dragged a suitcase and was waving at you, then the steps turned into sprints. You rubbed her eyes. Was this a dream?
Ajax ran over to you as you just stood up. He held you in his arms, lifted you off the ground a few inches and turned you around gently, until you had all the dizziness and had to lean your whole body against his. He kept calling your name and after your feet touched the ground, he wiped away the tears that hadn't dried up from your cheeks.
"Sorry I'm late... My flight... was delayed by several hours... Sorry, I kept you waiting..."
Rushing between words and kisses, it took you a while to understand what he was saying. It turned out that he had secretly booked a plane ticket to visit you, as a Valentine's Day surprise. You were stunned, frightened because you thought you were going to wake up and lose Ajax; then you burst into happiness while realizing this was true. Ajax was in front of you. He placed a deep kiss on your lips.
"Mmmh. Your lips taste like chocolate." He paused for a moment just to say that, making you laugh.
"I just had one cup of chocolate." 
"Want to have another with me?" 
With pleasure, you nodded. "So, is this the secret present you said?" 
After giving you a little peck on the cheek, Ajax said: "Only a part of it. The rest would be revealed soon. In any case, I'm going to stay here for a very long time."
You blinked. One surprise after another made it hard for you to breathe. You let Ajax hold your hand, rub your head, and place another kiss on your forehead. 
Everything was fine, as long as he was around; even for a moment, you would forget all your doubts and just appreciate his sweetness.
-The end-
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hooked-on-elvis · 2 months
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[BEHIND THE RECORD - Elvis onstage from 1969 to 1977] "I Can't Stop Loving You"
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Written and composed by country singer Don Gibson, who first recorded it in 1957, RCA Victor released "I Can't Stop Loving You" in 1958, and it became a country hit single. The song was covered by many artists over the years, most notable one being Ray Charles, in 1962, due to how he turned the tune into a No. 1 single on the Billboard chart.
Elvis Presley performed the song in many iconic concerts of his career - from 1969 into the 70s.
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The first time Elvis Presley was recorded singing "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU" was during one of the American Sound Studio sessions, on February 1969. It wasn't an official recording tho. A jam version of the tune was recorded while EP was warming up with his musicians so they could cut the songs that would be released in his LPs for the times following — "From Elvis In Memphis" being the album this recording session was intending to create at first.
Not long after this recording session, "I Can't Stop Loving You" was worked up as a number to Elvis' concerts. Rearranged, the song gained a more dramatic tone than we can listen to from how it originally sounded in Elvis' voice at the recording taped at the American Sound Studio previously, so from this moment on Elvis would perform the tune in quite a few iconic concerts of the latter era of his career, the very start being during his comeback to live performances on July/August 1969, onstage at the International Hotel's showroom in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Soundboard audios with "I Can't Stop Loving You" recorded during his concerts, including in 1969, were released on some his live albums throughout the years, such as "FROM MEMPHIS TO VEGAS (IN PERSON)" [recorded in 1969], "ELVIS AS RECORDED AT MADISON SQUARE GARDEN" (recorded in 1972) and "ELVIS: RECORDED LIVE ON STAGE IN MEMPHIS" (recorded in 1974).
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Live performances of Elvis singing the song were also officially taped, and they are very known to the fans for obvious reasons because they are part of some of the most notable moments of Elvis' history as a performer.
First official taping of EP performing "I Can't Stop Loving You" live took place during one of his engagement seasons at the International Hotel on August, 1970, as released on "Elvis: That's The Way It Is" documentary, then again on April 1972, filmed for "Elvis On Tour" documentary, and not long after that another performance of this tune was filmed during the "Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" concert, on January 1973.
BUT, BEFORE WE CAN GO TO THOSE FOOTAGES, HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE JAM VERSION RECORDED IN STUDIO IN 1969?
— NOTE FROM AUTHOR I love sharing Elvis' performances of the same song over the years, but what I would really love you to listen to now is the 1969 jam version of the song we're talking about, for it sounds so different from the live performances the fans are already very familiar with. I didn't knew about this recording until a few days ago and I loved it so much that this track is the reason why I needed to talk about this song. You will read about the moment EP was recording this song soon after.
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Elvis Presley in the waiting room of the American Sound Studio, early 1969.
▼ FEBRUARY, 1969: "I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU", RECORDED AT THE AMERICAN SOUND STUDIO, MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE.
Song starts at 0:35
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Album: American Sound 1969 (2019)
It was an American Studio tradition: paying tribute to the chief with a rendition of “This Time,” a Chips Moman-penned hit for Troy Shondell in 1961. Elvis had heard about the rite, and he serenaded his producer at the start of the February session with the few lines that he knew, segueing into Don Gibson’s “It’s My Way,” a song he had asked Freddy to check out the year before. Plunking along on his acoustic guitar, laughing at his own mistakes but singing his heart out, he drew the band into another Don Gibson number, “I Can’t Stop Loving You,” which he would transform into a dramatic show-stopper six month later in Las Vegas. Excerpt from "Elvis Presley: A Life In Music" by Ernst Jorgensen and Peter Guralnick.
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— NOTE FROM AUTHOR COOL, ISN'T IT? 😍 Have you heard the 1969 jam session version before? Don't know about you but I just can't stop loving it. So, now let's hear how that baby sound onstage.
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[FOOTAGE]
LIVE PERFORMANCES OVER THE YEARS
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REHEARSAL ▼
July, 1970.
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LIVE ONSTAGE ▼
"Elvis: That's The Way It Is" (August 1970) "Elvis On Tour" (April 1972)
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"Aloha From Hawaii via Satellite" (January 14, 1973)
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RECORDED LIVE ▼
Live at Convention Center Arena, San Antonio, TX (April 18, 1972)
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Live at Madison Square Garden (June 10, 1972)
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High Sierra Theatre at the Sahara Tahoe Hotel, Nevada (May 13, 1973)
Live at Mid-South Coliseum, Memphis, TN - March 1974
Song starts at 0:38:
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I can never get enough of how Elvis' history is so amazing. ♥
What are your thoughts about the jam version of "I Can't Stop Loving You" by EP? I'd love to hear from you.
By the way, do you like this track-to-track-history posts? I've written some so far but I have some others I'd like to share too. If you have any requests, any Elvis Presley songs you'd like to know more about the recording sessions or comparisons of the times a same tune was performed live by Elvis over the years, feel free to hit me with it. I sure will have great fun researching it for you.
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jjasen · 10 months
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3 a.m.
request: omg part 2 to white lines and black beaches, white lies and black beaches where rafe gets sober for her PLS bonus if there’s more groveling 
warnings: deals heavily with drugs and substance abuse, please read with care
word count: 1.25k
a/n: this in no way is meant to be a romanticization of addiction! if you or a loved one is going through addiction/recovery, please seek help and know that you are not alone!
Rafe’s hands trembled, cold and clammy as he licked his lower lip, his mouth cottony. He kept his phone close to him always, especially now, and he read your text over and over as he convinced himself not to go to Barry for more cocaine. “Stay sober and we’ll see,” he whispered, gripping the cool marble of his bathroom counter. “Stay sober and we’ll see.”
But the idea of sweet relief flowing through his veins, abating his internal conflict and feelings of self-doubt was such a tempting seductress. Just a little, he thought. That’s all I need. She doesn’t need to know. Rafe sank to the floor, his lips trembling, his thumb hovering over your contact icon, and threw his head back against the bathroom wall.
“Rafe?” Your voice from his phone speaker, distant but so familiar, eased some of his itch for the mindless euphoria that he knew would rush, liquid smooth, through his body.
“Tell me it’s not worth it,” he panted at you. “Tell me not to do it.” His voice was raspy, desperate, and you could tell it was taking everything in him to not give in to his cravings.
“Oh, Rafe. I’m coming over, okay? You’ll be okay. Just- just stay there, alright? I’ll be there in five minutes.”
It had been a few days since the party where Rafe promised he would get sober, and you’d spent every waking minute trying desperately not to think about him, about his words. You were curled up in bed, eyes glazed over as you scanned the same page of your book over and over again, not absorbing any of the words, but rather wondering if Rafe would commit to his vow of sobriety. If he really meant it, that he would choose you over the cocaine.
In five minutes flat, you were standing outside of Tannyhill, your heart thumping. You let yourself in, closing the doors gently behind you, tip-toeing throughout the foyer and up the stairs to his bathroom. Even through the door, you could hear his shallow breathing, feel his panicky fear. With your knuckles you lightly rapped on the doorframe.
“Rafe, I’m coming in,” you called softly, clutching your tote bag to your chest.
Your heart twisted painfully at the sight of the tawny-haired boy slumped on the marble tile, gasping and trembling. He looked up at you with that brilliant blue gaze, something like shame in his eyes. A silent apology that you had to see him like this.
“You came,” he whispered hoarsely.
You sat down next to him carefully and offered him your water bottle. “You called,” you said. You could tell that he was surprised. Surprised that you showed up, that you were really there, that you hadn’t given up on him long ago. A pang of sorrow for the boy who had been neglected so many times ran through your chest. Wordlessly, you took his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. Despite his shivering, he was warm, and the familiar weight of his palm was soothing. 
You aren’t sure how long you sat with him in silence, the only sound filling the air that of his inhalations, whether hours or minutes had passed while you watch the heaving of his chest subside and his breathing become even and slow, his grasp on your hand slowly relaxing. Despite several months of hooking up with Rafe, you were certain that this was the most intimate and vulnerable of the moments you had shared with him, that some unspoken boundary had been crossed and there was no going back.
Absentmindedly, you rubbed circles into his hand with the pad of your thumb. Rafe cleared his throat. “I blocked Barry,” he said quietly, breaking the silence and turning to look at you, his red-rimmed eyes remaining affixed to yours. “I can do this.”
“Rafe.” You paused to look down at your hand entwined in his, cast in a bluish tint by the moonlight filtering through the bathroom window. “This was always supposed to be a no-strings-attached sort of thing. So that we wouldn’t get hurt.” You looked at him, silently begging him to understand. Do you know how much I want to be able to be trust you? Do you know how much it hurts me to see you like this? 
“Why won’t you just admit that we could be so good together if you’d just give us a chance? Why’d you even come here?” he asked, looking away. You could tell he was frustrated, and you opened your mouth to speak. He cut you off. “No, let me finish. It’s like- like you don’t want to wait for me to become the person you believe I can be. And that hurts.” He exhaled slowly and looked at you, his gaze piercingly bright. “You gotta give me the chance to prove it to you, baby.”
 “Hey,” you said softly, “I really want this for you. But- I don’t even understand why you’re doing this. We were- we were fine just hooking up. Weren’t we?” 
It was certainly easier that way, to keep sex and feelings separate. Easier to just shove away the sparks that shivered down your spine each time he looked at you for just a moment longer than necessary. Easier to ignore the way you had slipped into his life, into his routine, to ignore the way that you had no longer become a placeholder for a relationship, but something more.
Rafe shook his head and chuckled, his voice hoarse. “No. Because- because, shit, baby. You make me want to be better. You make me want to be good. I- I want to become someone who could deserve you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “Won’t it be hard?” Your question was so quiet it wasn’t even a whisper.
Rafe blinked quickly, as if he wasn’t expecting you to give in this easily. He looked down, almost bashful, then back at you. “Yeah,” he breathed, nodding. “But it’s not hard when I’m with you. Never when I’m with you.”
Your hand moved of its own accord upwards to trace his jaw, fingertips skimming over the light stubble on his cheek. You could tell that it was taking all of his strength to keep his composure; he let out a controlled breath slowly and closed his eyes. The muscles of his neck strained and his hand tightened around yours. “Please just say something already,” he rasped, opening his eyes and searching yours, silently pleading you to see that there was nothing in the world he needed quite as badly as you.
Softly, hesitantly, you pressed your lips to his. He groaned faintly, almost imperceptibly, reaching to tangle his free hand into your hair, pulling you closer to him. It’s a slow and gentle kiss, and you could feel Rafe smile into the crescent of your mouth. When you pulled back, he rests his forehead upon yours, his eyelids fluttering closed, hand still entwined in yours. 
You sat together contentedly, Rafe’s head resting gently on your shoulder. His eyes closed and his breathing even, several minutes pass in peaceful silence before you realized he had fallen asleep. Smiling down at him, his brow smooth and the corners of his mouth curving softly upwards, you kissed his head.
“I love you,” you whispered. And right now, it’s enough for you to hold his hand and fall asleep on the bathroom floor. It’s enough to have him here with you, with the promise of tomorrow on the horizon.
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tepkunset · 1 month
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Thoughts on X-Men 97 S01E02 – Mutant Liberation Begins
TL;DR: X-Men 97’s butchering of the Trial of Magneto is more than just a bad adaptation. It’s an offensive stripping of a core part of the original story and of Magneto’s character.
The Trail of Magneto story arc in the Uncanny X-Men comics is an iconic turn for the character and the team; it is a transformation of an enemy turned friend. But that is not all the story represents. Delving deeper into its layers, one can pull out a lot of messages. The biggest one I relate to is the effects of compound systemic oppression when one has multiple identities marking them as a minority. But that’s missing in X-Men 97’s adaptation… even worse, it actively counters this point.
Before we get into the cartoon’s adaptation, let’s take a look at the comics, first.
The story begins in Uncanny X-Men #199, where Magneto and Kitty Pryde both attend a special reception at the National Holocaust Memorial in Washington, DC. It is here that Kitty is able to reconnect with folks who knew her family, who were victims in the Auschwitz concentration camp, and Magneto reconnects with people he knew there as well. They praise him for helping them survive.
But Freedom Force breaks into the reception and tries to arrest Magneto in the name of the US government. Magneto initially resists: “My land—all the countries of the world—turned their backs on me and mine when we were condemned to Hitler's death camps. Therefore, in return, I have sworn to deny them!” However, when he sees how afraid everyone around him is, he accepts their arrest and agrees to stand trial.
The story continues in Uncanny X-Men #200. Magneto’s trial by the international court of justice begins with England’s Attorney-General claiming there is no such thing as mutant oppression, which we the readers know, is a blatant lie. Despite this, Magneto remains calm, and when it’s his turn to speak, he says the following:
“My dream, from the start, has been the protection and preservation of my own kind, mutants. To spare them the fate my family suffered in Auschwitz and do not tell me such a thing cannot happen again, because that is a lie! You humans slaughter each other because of the colour of your skin, or your faith or your politics—or for no reason at all—too many of you hate as easily as you draw breath, what's to prevent you adding us to that list?!”
But the trial attracts the attention of the Fenris twins; the Nazi offspring of Baron Von Strucker. They are there to kill Magneto, Xavier, and Gabrielle Haller (AKA David Haller’s mother), because she is Jewish and was an enemy of their father. Magneto risks his life to save everyone in the trial from them, but Xavier’s heart gives out and he nearly dies in Magneto’s arms, until he’s whisked away by his alien girlfriend who says she can save him. Xavier makes Magneto vow to stand with the X-Men and teach the New Mutants in his absence.
So, let’s keep in mind how intertwined Magneto’s Jewish and mutant identities are in this story; how they interact and shape his views and actions together. Because X-Men 97 is about to take all that away.
In X-Men 97 S01E02, when Val Cooper and the UN show up to arrest Magneto, he surrenders peacefully to try and gain the X-Men’s trust. And Magneto’s speech is very different from that of the comics:
“As a boy, my people's homes were burned to ash, because we dared to call God by another name. Then, my people hunted me with those who had once hunted them. I was a freak, born a mutant. An abomination to their misnamed gods. In history's sad song, there is a refrain. Believe differently, love differently, be of different sex or skin, and be punished. We sing this song to one another. The oppressed become oppressors.”
And it is not the Fenris twins who show up, but just generic Friends of Humanity baddies, led by X-Cutioner.
This adaptation may contain the surface-level story beats of the original, but it misses the heart of the matter; it misses the point!
Magneto’s cartoon speech separates him from his Jewish community. That is something the Magneto I know would never do. In the comics, his part about how humans are always killing each other speaks much more volumes, because he is speaking about his experience not just as a mutant, but as a Jewish person who has survived a genocide. Magneto, nor anyone with more than identity, has to choose between them. This show now says otherwise.
What I hate most of all about his cartoon speech though, is the line, “the oppressed become oppressors.” This is straight up cloaked white supremacist rhetoric; the fear that if racial/ethnic minorities are given equal rights, we will take over and start oppressing white settlers. And no, I’m not saying minorities are exempt from carrying prejudices against others, obviously. What I’m saying is, oppression is a systemic problem that largely stems from colonialism, and to paint oppressed people as a danger that needs to be oppressed or will oppress you, is a terrible idea used by colonizers to justify the system of colonialism. It is not based on fact.
The message of Magneto’s speech in the comics is that he has personally suffered from the hands of oppression before, and does not want others to suffer more. The message of magneto’s speech in the cartoon is that all people are bad, end of story. There is no nuance, there is no larger context at play, and there is no real grit to the words said! They have de-clawed Magneto’s character, and they have ripped away what he stands for… who he stands for.
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