#Something I'd expect of France

[sweetdreamspootypie]

Half the population of the school is muslim. not allowed to pray /during their lunch break/ because students aren't allowed to gather in groups of more than 4, and it might 'threaten inclusion'

[chemicalarospec]

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[dailyadventureprompts]

Hello Dapper. I don’t really expect too much about this, but do you have any ideas for Wargs? They have an interesting relationship with goblins and are weird in that they’re essentially sapient wolf monsters, but I don’t think they’re ever really used that creatively.

Monsters Reimagined: Wargs, wolf panics, and the Economics of Lupophobia

While the surface level answer is pretty simple (warg is a conversion of varger, an old Norse way to refer to mythological wolves like Fenrir) there's actually a surprising amount of material to drill into here on the topic of sapient wolf monsters, especially for someone like me who has a interest in moral panics and mass hysteria events. Wolves were effectively a boogyman for pre-industrial societies, a deep seated generational fear that we only recognize today through cultural relics like the big bad wolf or boy who cried wolf.

TLDR: If you want to do something interesting with wargs beyond just "wolves that talk" I'd advise playing to their folk / fairytale roots. They're creatures of embodied dread, drawn from the stuff of the feywild to sow fear among those who would travel off the path or too close to the wilderness. This lets you tell interesting stories about how the party/major characters respond to fear: Does fear of being attacked in the dark drive the party to make risky decisions that might endanger their quest? How do the villagers react when the wolves are very literally at the door, demanding just one of their neighbours as a meal in exchange for safety?

I'd also advise getting weirder with a warg's powers, playing into that fear of the unknown by doing unexpected things. The party can fight off a pack of wolves, sure, but what does it mean when the lead wolf rips off the bard's shadow and takes off into the night?

Background: If you want a window into the headspace of wolf-panic, think about the neigh omnipresent fear of sharks created by the Jaws franchise. Children who have never seen the movie, let alone seen a shark in person can become irrationally afraid of getting into deep water because they've absorbed the pervasive cultural phobia, which goes onto shape environmental policy as sharks are overhunted or killed out of spite for their perceived threat.

So it was for wolves, even after they were largely hunted to near extinction by medieval and postmedieval societies, the fear of them was so ingrained into cultural traditions that wolf and werewolf panics were a thing that went hand in hand with witchtrails. France had a country wide one as late as the 1760s and the movie based on it ended up inspiring Bloodborne. Alternatively look at the anti-wolf efforts during the colonization of the Americas, right up to the opposition to reintroducing wolves back to Yellowstone park.

On that note (and because we can't have a Monsters Reimagined without some kind of class analysis), lets talk about how these fears are propagated: On many levels it makes sense for everyday people to be afraid of wolves, they're a hunting species that can absolutely pose a danger to us, and when you're living or travelling outside the protection of a settlement you really are vulnerable to a coordinated pack of carnivores running you down.

However, the primary threat that wolves pose to humans isn't predation, it's property damage, specifically in how they kill livestock. While we can talk about individual farmsteads beset by beasts, in reality the herds that wolves were most likely to prey upon belonged to the landowning classes, powerful people who had a profit incentive in seeing wolves driven off or exterminated. This is where you get bounties on dead wolves, not just paying for the value of the hide but actively rewarding people for going out and killing as many wolves as possible to the point of it becoming a profession. This practice has existed for MILLENIA and is still active today, primarily in places where big agriculture influences governments.

It seems incidental at first but then you realize that it fits the model of just about every other kind of cultural panic: widespread ignorance and fear that just so happens to mobilize the populace in a way that financially benefits a select few. You can see the same thing happening today in england with badgers of all things, which have been identified with the local dairy industry as a threat to their herds. This is not only led them to petition the government to cull the badger population, but to put out anti-badger propaganda, eventually turning it into a culture war issure to the point where conservative mouthpieces like Jeremy Clarkson openly encourages killing and gassing badgers on sight.

Returning to the land of fantasy for now: I think it's worth taking the idea of the warg and mixing it with a few other "black dog" cultural archetypes, which can also include the creatures like the shuck or church grimm. In this instance the warg is a sort of curse made manifest, the fear of a haunted place given literal teeth. People who transgress into these forbidden spaces find themselves pursued by a manifestation that dogs them till they're exhausted and vulnerable, much like a wolf harrying its prey.

The bhargest is also of special interest here, considering how I like to relate goblins back to the feywild. You could easily see bhargests as agents of fey that feed on human fear, leading a pack of goblins or hobs that occupy the desolate lands they've called to haunt. My version of Maglubiyet would also delight in employing such creatures as his emissaries.

Going back to the vargr/ Norse mythology angle, it's interesting that most of the wolves that show up are destined to devour something, whether it be a god or celestial certanty like the moon and sun. It's like the concept of an inevitable chase is so fundimental to what a wolf IS that it became a theme of ragnarok's inevitable certantly. Consider having certan packs of wargs be offspring of some fenrir style god eater, beasts of forboding doom who's mere presence is an omen of ill times.

Alternatively, if you wanted to play on the big bad wolf angle, give wargs the ability to take on flimsy human disguises, all the better to get close to their pray and sow fear among the townsfolk. Historical wolf panics after all are not all that different than serial killer panics, and it'd be a fun twist on a traditional werewolf adventure to have the party on a creature that didn't play by the usual lycanthropic rules.

Artsource

[hedgehog-moss]

Inspired by your last ask! What are the best French books you’ve read that have no English translation yet? I read Play Boy and Qui a tué mon père (really loved the latter) last year and it feels so fun to read something that other Americans can’t access yet

I'm too nervous to make any list of the Best XYZ Books because I don't want to raise your expectations too high! But okay, here's my No English Translation-themed list of books I've enjoyed in recent years. I tried to make it eclectic in terms of genre as I don't know what you prefer :)

Biographies

• Le dernier inventeur, Héloïse Guay de Bellissen: I just love prehistory and unusual narrators so I enjoyed this one; it's about the kids who discovered the cave of Lascaux, and some of the narration is written from the perspective of the cave <3 I posted a little excerpt here (in English).

• Ces femmes du Grand Siècle, Juliette Benzoni: Just a fun collection of portraits of notable noblewomen during the reign of Louis XIV, I really liked it. For people who like the 17th century. I think it was Emil Cioran who said his favourite historical periods were the Stone Age and the 17th century but tragically the age of salons led to the Reign of Terror and Prehistory led to History.

• La Comtesse Greffulhe, Laure Hillerin: I've mentioned this one before, it's about the fascinating Belle Époque French socialite who was (among other things) the inspiration for Proust's Duchess of Guermantes. I initially picked it up because I will read anything that's even vaguely about Proust but it was also a nice aperçu of the Belle Époque which I didn't know much about.

• Nous les filles, Marie Rouanet: I've also recommended this one before but it's such a sweet little viennoiserie of a book. The author talks about her 1950s childhood in a town in the South of France in the most detailed, colourful, earnest way—she mentions everything, describes all the daft little games children invent like she wants ageless aliens to grasp the concept of human childhood, it's great.

I'll add Trésors d'enfance by Christian SIgnol and La Maison by Madeleine Chapsal which are slightly less great but also sweet short nostalgic books about childhood that I enjoyed.

Fantasy

• Mers mortes, Aurélie Wellenstein: I read this one last year and I found the characters a bit underwhelming / underexplored but I always enjoy SFF books that do interesting things with oceans (like Solaris with its sentient ocean-planet), so I liked the atmosphere here, with the characters trying to navigate a ghost ship in ghost seas...

• Janua Vera, Jean-Philippe Jaworski: Not much to say about it other than they're short stories set in a mediaeval fantasy world and no part of this description is usually my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed this read!

Essays / literary criticism / philosophy

• Eloge du temps perdu, Frank Lanot: I thought this was going to be about idleness, as the title suggests, and I love books about idleness. But it's actually a collection of short essays about (French) literature and some of them made me appreciate new things about authors and books I thought I knew by heart, so I enjoyed it

• Le Pont flottant des rêves, Corinne Atlan: Poetic musings about translation <3 that's all

• Sisyphe est une femme, Geneviève Brisac: Reflections about the works of female writers (Natalia Ginzburg, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Townsend Warner, etc) that systematically made me want to go read the author in question, even when I'd already read & disliked said author. That's how you know it's good literary criticism

Let's add L'Esprit de solitude by Jacqueline Kelen which as the title suggests, ponders the notion of solitude, and Le Roman du monde by Henri Peña-Ruiz which was so lovely to read in terms of literary style I don't even care what it was about (it's philosophy of foundational myths & stories) (probably difficult to read if you're not fully fluent in French though)

Did not fit in the above categories:

• Entre deux mondes by Olivier Norek—it's been translated in half a dozen languages, I was surprised to find no English translation! It's a crime novel and a pretty bleak read on account of the setting (the Calais migrant camp) but I'd recommend it

• Saga, Tonino Benacquista: Also seems to have been translated in a whole bunch of languages but not English? :( I read it ages ago but I remember it as a really fun read. It's a group of loser screenwriters who get hired to write a TV series, their budget is 15 francs and a stale croissant and it's going to air at 4am so they can do whatever they want seeing as no one will watch it. So they start writing this intentionally ridiculous unhinged show, and of course it acquires Devoted Fans

Books that I didn't think existed in English translation but they do! but you can still read them in French if you want

• Scrabble: A Chadian Childhood, Michaël Ferrier: What it says on the tin! It's a short and well-written account of the author's childhood in Chad just before the civil war. I read it a few days ago and it was a good read, but then again I just love bittersweet stories of childhood

• On the Line, Joseph Ponthus: A short diary-like account of the author's assembly line work in a fish factory. I liked the contrast between the robotic aspect of the job and the poetic nature of the text; how the author used free verse / repetition / scansion to give a very immediate sense of the monotony and rhythm of his work (I don't know if it's good in English)

• The End of Eddy, Edouard Louis: The memoir of a gay man growing up in a poor industrial town in Northern France—pretty brutal but really good

• And There Was Light, Jacques Lusseyran: Yet another memoir sorry, I love people's lives! Jacques Lusseyran lost his sight as a child, and was in the Resistance during WWII despite being blind. It's a great story, both for the historical aspects and for the descriptions of how the author experiences his blindness

• The Adversary: A True Story of Monstrous Deception, Emmanuel Carrère: an account of the Jean-Claude Romand case—a French man who murdered his whole family to avoid being discovered as a fraud, after spending his entire adult life pretending to be a doctor working at the WHO and fooling everyone he knew. Just morbidly fascinating, if you like true crime stuff

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 11: map / word count: 755 cw:implied sexual content

The situation is this, in two days it's the wedding of his two best friends IN THE WORLD, which is wonderful and James is so excited for them after all they had to go through to get to this moment. He honestly loves them from the bottom of his heart, but maybe he would love them more if they hadn't decided to have the wedding IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NOTHING. When they decided to have it in France since Sirius and his brother lived there with their uncle from the moment they ran away from their parents' house, the idea sounded sensational, but upon discovering the great little detail that it would be in a small rural village with zero signs in English, James slowly began to panic a little.

And here he is now, without a map since his phone lost all signal and internet access and subsequently ran out of battery, stuck in an old unheated rental car on a dirt road waiting for an endless flock of sheep to cross and not knowing a lick of French apart from "Bonjour" which won't help in this situation. Oh, and it's now pouring. Fantastic.

And you see, of course James has already considered going out and shooing the sheep out of the way, but contemplating he doesn't know where he's going, that wouldn't be good for the sheep who are probably just trying to get back to their pen, or anyone else. That's the only reason, of course it's not because he's afraid of the sheep. Definitely it isn't. 

When the daylight was almost completely gone and James was resigned to die waiting there (why do they need so many sheep in such a small town), a tapping on his window made him jump out of surprise at the thought that the sheep had finally agreed to hasten his death. A horse and its rider were standing by his window, but in order to see his face James had to roll down the pane and poke his head slightly out of the window.

"Vous avez besoin d'aide?" 

James had never regretted not speaking French as much as he did at this moment. The man on the horse looked like something straight out of a "Horse and Rider" magazine, but hotter. With his shiny black boots, wet shirt clinging to his body highlighting his strong arms and abs, and black curls accompanied by the most stunning pair of silver eyes James had ever seen in his life. So what if he wants this god to fold him in half? Sue him.

"Sorry, I don't speak French," James said sadly, putting an end to his fantasy.

"No problem, I just asked if you needed any help." replied the man on horseback in such a fluent way catching him off guard, but with a divinely thick accent. Fantasy resumed.

Oh, a deity had definitely decided to come down from Olympus to personally help James.

Later, inside the castle that Reg called home, and insisted on taking him because, and quoting him, "it's dangerous to drive around here so late at night, lots of wild animals", James emerged from the shower with only a towel wrapped around his hips, not expecting the silver-eyed man to be waiting for him with clean, dry clothes in the room. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the heat he felt as he was scanned up and down by that hungry gaze. So in a moment of enlightenment he remembered the only French phrase he knew.

"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?"

"God, if you weren't so hot I'd be feeling so much cringe right now."

James's prayers of being folded in half were answered that night.

The next morning, he awoke to feel the warmth on his right side move and Sirius's horrified screams.

Hold on. Rewind. 

Sirius? So he was able to find the address in the end?

"Really James? My baby brother? And this is why you weren't answering your phone? We thought you were dead!"

Oh, so it is “Reg” as in Regulus. Wow.

“I died and went to heaven.” 

And in the blink of an eye Sirius was on top of him trying to throttle him.

In the end, all the necessary explanations were given. Sirius wasn't happy at first to learn that Regulus and James could become more than a one-night stand, but he eventually accepted it and the wedding went off without a hitch.

James had never been so grateful for a flock of sheep before.

[theladyofrosewater]

Character sheets take longer than I thought (I'm drawing on my phone without a stylus help me)

notes below the cut

I am absolutely TERRIBLE at drawing guys body types so I had to stare at reference photos for like ever and I chose discus athletes as my frame of reference. It's better than my usual work but still not perfect so I'm glad I don't have to do scar/tattoo maps for all of the characters.

very common headcanon I know but I imagine all the the Ro'meaves are tall with Garroth being around 6"7-6"8. HOWEVER he and his brothers inherited their height from Zianna not Garte. With Zianna being around 7ft and Garte being around 5"11 (Which is still tall but like he's the shortest so he WOULD make everyone sit for family portraits)

I'm getting rid of the cross on Garroth's design and replacing it with a star symbol, maybe something to symbolize Irene's power or something. The "gem" in the center is actually dyed quartz as it's customary for head guard to place a false gem of glass or a cheap gemstone to mimic the look of the Jury of Nine. Guards are gifted slightly higher quality stone or hunks of metal if they are on the waitlist for the Jury as well.

I know we make fun of the fact he never changed his name but there was a period in where like 20 percent of the English population was named Mary so he can keep his name unlike Aph.

I'm basing O'khasis on specifically on places like Wales, Ireland, England and France so maybe expect some later design elements from there.

His cape is "faerie silk", which is one of the few exports from the Yggdrasill forest region and is known for its durability. It's one of the few items Zoey always keeps in stock because after the incident with Zenix, Garroth incorporated it into Phoenix Drop's guard uniform.

I keep running into problems with ages because Diaries is just inconsistent like that but I THINK 24 is a good enough age??? I'd explain but that's a whole ass post about the Ro'Meaves that isn't set in stone until I figure out how evil I'm making Zane and reworking how the lord system works.

His armor was originally way too fancy for Phoenix drop but I imagine that it fell into disrepair after the lord dies. Aphelia and Laurance get his armor fixed up for him for his birthday one year before everything goes downhill.

The scar on his face is because Zenix swung a giant-ass blade at his face and I refuse to believe he walked away from that fight unharmed physically

I know it's hard to see BUT HE HAS STUBBLE. He always attempts to grow a full beard but after like 2 weeks it gets too itchy and he just goes back to the stubble.

if you're still here pls send in a request for the last character sheet for now because Laurance has like 5 outfits and I don't want to draw all of themmmmmmmmm help.

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Plot: Kylian had it all figured out, he'd finally move away from PSG after one more year in red and blue, so why did this random woman have to come and ruin everything for him?

Warnings: Kylian being very mildly sexist (for character growth of course<3)

Word Count: 1276

Masterlist

"But you leaked it?"

"No, I didn't."

Kylian's face was a flat line, though with every word she said, his lips inched closer to a frown. His hazel eyes were fixed on her, sat across from him.

"Your team did and given that the main man in your team is your father, I'd say you were well aware it was going to happen."

Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, each strand neatly slicked back. Surely that hurt her head, maybe it restricted blood flow to her brain- maybe that's why she was such a dick!

His life had been perfectly planned out, his career finally making sense, looking like it was going somewhere. Then, the new manager had arrived and so had his stupid, new PR head. What had been wrong with the old head of PR? Nothing! Sure, he was elderly, out of touch, and not very good at his job and his replacement was young and sharp and beautiful and... that wasn't relevant to her work.

How dare she barge in here in her six-inch heels and her tight, tight blouse and tarnish his name? Who even needed heels that high for work?

He was Kylian Mbappé; he'd given everything for this club and for his country and when he'd written that letter all he'd wanted was a peaceful exit from the team. Now, not only the Parisian media but all media in France and worldwide hated him. Maybe the only people who liked him right now were Spanish journalists.

"Kylian, I admire you greatly. You are a brilliant player and I know your worth." Enrique, the coach, said from his seat beside y/n, "So do my superiors and surely you're aware that we really can't let you go on a free transfer."

"I didn't ask to go on a free transfer, I just said I am not willing to extend my contract." he defended.

"But you want to play until the end of the season when your contract runs out, and no team in their right mind would therefore buy you weeks before you become a free agent."

Y/n spoke quickly yet clearly, sure in her words and sure in herself. When she finished, her lips, painted a dark rose, settled in a line, as she blinked once, twice, her long lashes fluttering.

"Last time I checked, dealing with transfers wasn't in your job description," he bit back.

"No, I'm in charge of the team's image which your transfers are really tarnishing, so you've kind of dragged them to my attention yourself."

"I told you, I didn't leak the letter."

"Oh, well if you say you didn't, you must be telling the truth. I will get my goons to slowly torture each of your teammates until one of them admits to the crime."

Her composed watch didn't shift from him. He glared at her. If looks could kill.

"That won't be necessary, Miss Briggs. Kylian, we have two options here." Enrique said, calmly, "Option one, you and your posse agree to start negotiations with us for a contract extension and-"

"I choose option two." Kylian cut in, bluntly, scowling at the entire room.

"Great. So, option two, we'll exclude you from the squad for the Japan tour and you can spend the Summer training with the loft." Enrique declared, standing up and gathering his files from the desk, "Great talk. Very productive."

As the coach exited, his team leaving with him, Kylian sat there dumbfounded. The only person who remained in the room was y/n, as she jotted something down in her notebook. Finishing writing, she snapped the cover shut and slotted her pen into her blouse's chest pocket. His eyes followed it. Glancing up, she watched him watching her for a couple of seconds before she stood up.

"So, that's it, I'm just fucking cut from the squad?" he seethed.

She nodded, easily humming, "Mhm. What did you expect?"

"You know I love this club. You and Enrique can't just march in here and bench me. I'm Kylian Mbappé."

"I didn't bench you." she scoffed, starting for the door.

"Please, I don't know who you are but for some reason, Enrique listens to what you say and I know you had a hand in this. I don't know why he trusts your opinions since you don't even know football, but stay out of my way, okay?"

She stopped dead in her tracks, spinning around slowly, her mouth slightly agape, though her lips curled up ever so slightly in a way that told him he was a dead man walking.

"Luis respects what I say because I'm good at my job. I know that you're not used to working alongside women and maybe your fragile ego can't handle being booted out of the squad but you brought this on yourself, Mbappé. I don't work for you or Luis, I work for Paris Saint-Germain and I'll do what's best for the club. So, here's my advice, from one master of their field to another, get your shit together and sign a new contract or come September time you might find yourself at a club you like a whole lot less than this one. How does the Qatari league sound? Your whole internalised chauvinism thing will go over a treat there. Like one of the locals already!"

With that, she stormed out of the door, her hips swaying, and he was truly alone in the huge meeting room. Hesitantly, he pulled out his phone and quickly punched in a Google search: chauvinism definition.

chauvinism: excessive or prejudiced support for one's own cause or group, in particular male prejudice against women

He frowned, surely that was a bit far. He didn't hate her because she was a woman. He hated her because she was ruining his life. That had nothing to do with her gender. Well, maybe his burning desire for her contributed to his hatred. He'd never hated the old head of PR this much and maybe that was because he was old and wrinkled and didn't wear blouses that tight or skirts that tight or watch him with eyes like that and-

No, he wasn't attracted to her. Well, not like that. Yes, she was a very attractive woman, that was a fact, but he knew lots of attractive women. He wasn't attracted to her, he could just appreciate that she was, well, attractive and- God, what was he doing? Why were his thoughts spiralling like this, perv?

Maybe he just hated her because she was loud and arrogant and seemed to think Kylian was the enemy and that in vanquishing him, she was doing Paris, nay France, a great service. Noble warrior.

Well, she'd made a big mistake.

Maybe journalists and fans would turn against him for a couple of weeks, caught up in the excitement of his gripping transfer saga. That didn't matter because at the end of the day, he was Kylian Mbappé. He'd lead France to that trophy in 2018, even if he'd been a teenager, and he'd scored three goals and a fucking penalty in the world cup final after that. The country wouldn't turn against him for long, that was for sure.

She'd tried to turn him into the enemy but all she'd really done was make the biggest mistake of all. She'd made herself his enemy, and she'd sorely regret that.

Groaning, he stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as he did and stormed out of the meeting room. He wasn't leaving and he wasn't signing that new contract. Nobody could make him: not Enrique, not Al-Khelaifi, and most certainly not y/n.

Masterlist Chapter 2

[fadedncity]

wc: 5.2k

pairing: hunter!haechan x hunter!reader

cw: supernatural!au, smut, fem!reader, ex friends/fwb to enemies to fwb again, angst, sex pollen, dubcon(?), weapons, violence, gore, character death (non mcs), masturbation (reader receiving), alcohol consumption, fingering, teasing, pet names, unprotected sex

song rec: hypnotic by zella day | if you let me by sinedad harnett | love me up by etta bond | crave by tove lo

"You want me to what?!"

"Come on, there are worse things," Taeyong tried talking you down.

"I'd rather Lilith drag me to hell herself."

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic. Haechan's not that bad."

"Oh, no, he's just an annoying, pompous asshole."

"I-" before he could get in another word, you cut him off.

"Why can't you just send Sungchan? He's one of the newbies. The experience will be good for him anyway."

"I sent him and Shotaro to Oregon with Yuta to take care of a crossroads demon."

"Jaehyun?"

"Vampire nest in France with Jeno."

"Renjun?"

"Shapeshifter in Morocco."

"Kun?"

"On vacation," Taeyong sighed. "Look, you two are some of the best hunters I know, and I really need you on this case. Both of you."

You knew you couldn't keep standing here bitching over this when the real problem was still at large. People were still getting hurt, and you couldn't let your feelings of anguish toward him get in the way of your job.

You rolled your eyes before sighing, "When do we leave?"

"Been waiting on you."

Looking over your shoulder, you glare at the man standing in the doorway of the room designated to be Taeyong's office. Haechan smirked at you before winking. You scoff, turning back to Taeyong. 

"You're gonna owe me," you tell him. 

"Wouldn't have asked if I wasn't expecting to," he handed you the file, "Safe trip, you two," Taeyong smiled.

"We're leaving in fifteen," you told Haechan, "And we're taking my car."

Haechan held up his hands like he wasn't gonna argue with you about that, which was surprising, but you quickly brushed past it and Haechan out of the room.

"Haechan." Taeyong called him before he left, "Please don't kill each other and make it back in one piece."

"No promises," Haechan said before leaving. 

. . .

The first hour was filled with tense silence between the two of you. Every time Haechan tried to start a conversation, you would shut him down, not wanting to hear anything he had to say.

It wasn't until he picked up the file from Taeyong sitting on your dashboard did you finally let him get some words in since he was actually saying something helpful. 

"Says there have been four victims in the last five weeks."

"All the same motive?" 

"Yeah, all four of them were drained of their blood. Completely."

"Vampires?"

"No teeth marks were found. So, it's no looking likely."

"Any connection between the victims?" 

"No, not that I can tell. Aside from living in the same area code, none of these people had anything in common."

"Great, this makes our job much easier. What about a vengeful spirit? Or demon?"

"Could be. But can't say for sure until we get there."

Haechan closed the file and threw it into the backseat.

He sunk into the passenger's seat, about to change the song playing on the radio before you slapped his hand away.

"My car, my music."

Haechan sucked his teeth, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. I was gonna try to take a nap anyway."

"Whatever gets you to stop talking."

Glaring over at you one last time, Haechan shifts in the passenger's seat, turning his back to you and shutting his eyes.

Hours have passed, and you've been driving on the dark road with no cars ahead or behind you for miles now. The only thing accompanying you in the darkness was the low hum of music coming from the speakers and Haechan's soft snores. 

It didn't even register you had been driving for so long until you started seeing the sun rising from behind the horizon.

Haechan woke up with a stiff neck to find the car at a stop, and you were no longer inside with him. Taking in his surroundings, Haechan realized you had stopped for gas. 

You were so spaced out you almost didn't hear him getting out of the car, the slamming of the door bringing your attention to him. 

You looked over at the Gemini, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn. 

"How much longer do we have to go?" Haechan asks.

"Three more hours."

"Okay, you should let me drive," He tells you. 

"No-"

"You've been driving all night. It won't do any good if you fall asleep at the wheel and kill us before we can even get there."

He's right. It irks you, having to admit he's right.

You took the pump out of the tank once it was filled and closed the hatch.

You held out your keys, Haechan ready to take them, but you retracted your hand before he could. 

"Be gentle with her. This is my baby."

"Baby," he scoffs, "You know I can be gentle when I wanna be," he says, taking your keys and getting into the driver's side.

You were blaming your lack of sleep on the way his words had an effect on you.

You shook the thoughts away and got back into the car, your eyes shutting almost instantly before Haechan could even pull out of the gas station.

. . .

"Oh, you gotta be fucking with me."

Now, this was an upgrade from your usual shitty motels. There was a couch a full bathroom, a minibar, and a queen-sized bed. One queen-sized bed.

And you have no doubt in mind who was probably responsible for this.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Johnny," you mutter.

"Get in line."

You were expecting to have to flip a coin or something.

"You can take the bed. I'll be fine with the couch," Haechan says, settling his things down.

"Suit yourself," you said happily dropping your things and heading towards the bed practically calling your name.

"I'm gonna shower. Then we can head over to the coroner's office?"

"Fine with me. Wake me if I'm not up in an hour." you say resting your head on the pillow.

The bathroom door closed, and you got comfortable on the bed. It wasn't the most comfortable mattress, the bed springs digging into your back, but you've had worse, so you weren't gonna complain. The sound of the water running was the last thing you remember hearing before your eyes fluttered shut, and you drifted off to sleep again. 

. . . 

You walked out of the morgue, thoroughly annoyed. And feeling Haechan's unbothered presence was pissing you off even more. 

Bad enough that Mark thought it would be a funny enough fucking joke to give you fake badges with the same last name, leading the coroner to assume you were married. And instead of correcting her, Haechan thought it would also be funny to play along and act as if you were.

So while you were actually working, examining the bodies, and trying to figure out what was responsible for the deaths of those four people, Haechan was talking up your fake five-year marriage on the spot with the coroner. You know he's good at this part of the job, but there's no reason for him to be this good. 

Haechan loosens his tie walking in tow with you back to your car after you finish your questioning. 

"See, that wasn't so bad," Haechan says, and you roll your eyes at him. "Alright, when are you gonna pop this hate boner you have for me?" he asks. 

You scoff, "Whenever that big ass ego of yours deflates." 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like you don't fucking know," you mutter. 

"Yeah, I fucking don't. So why don't you stop acting like a pouty little brat and just tell me."

You didn't say anything, and Haechan sighed. 

"I thought you said you weren't mad about that."

"I'm not but that doesn't mean I have to like you after you did it." 

"It was two years ago!" 

"And it was fucked up. But it's funny enough you keep showing up whenever you think I'm in need of saving."

"Need I remind you I am the one who quite literally saved you from being that werewolf's late night snack?"

You grumble at him under your breath, walking away. 

He tries to keep up with your steps, following you to the car.

"Look, I'm sorry," he said, and you finally stopped, "For everything. I didn't mean to shut you out. I was just...scared," he admits 

"Of what? I thought we were both very clear about where we stood."

"And I still cared about you. You know what it's like getting close to something in this line of work," Haechan tells you, "And I wasn't just gonna let you die for the sake of your own ego. You're too good of a hunter for us to lose." 

You didn't even think you still held this much anger towards him until now. You didn't want to anymore, seemingly taking this long to get over it. And it would make this job a lot less painful if you weren't stuck thinking about the past. 

"Don't try to flatter me now, Donghyuck." You say, a phantom smirk playing on your lips. "You're still an annoying, pompous asshole," you say.

Haechan snickers, putting his hands in his pockets and walking up to you. 

"And you're a heartless, whiny little brat," he smirked at your offended expression. He then stepped back and asked, "Wanna grab breakfast?" quickly changing the subject.

"You really wanna eat now?"

"Can't work on an empty stomach," Haechan says, "I'll buy," he offers. 

"Fine. But, after, we're going to the crime scenes." 

"Yes, Mrs," Haechan teases, laughing when you shoot him another death glare. 

. . . 

"You okay?" Haechan asks as he enters the run-down house.

"Yeah," you shake the unsettling feeling and follow in behind him, "We're getting close."

"But we still have time. We just need to find her heart and kill her. Simple."  

Yeah, simple. 

The one thing you hate about witches is how difficult they make it to hunt them. Using glamour spells to appear as whoever they want or hexing five random people as a part of some ritualistic sacrifice trying to raise something much more malicious back from the dead. They're always unpredictable. 

"I'll check upstairs," you tell him. 

Haechan nods, heading towards the living room to check the first floor, "Hey, Haechan."

"Yeah?" he turns around.

"Don't be stupid and get yourself killed," you say.

He nods again with a smirk, "You too." 

Reaching the top of the stairs, you held up your shotgun as you crept down the halls, carefully checking every room you passed. The floorboards croaked under your weight with each step you took. 

It was deathly silent; your ears started to ring. You couldn't even hear Haechan downstairs as you reached the end of the hallway.

You pushed the last door open with the barrel of your gun and started looking around. Different plants and herbs were scattered all over the room, and you made sure to stay a safe distance away, not sure what some of them were.

When you found the room was clear, you lowered your weapon and looked around, finding a book that you could only assume was her grimoire, opened to a page.

Careful flipping through the pages, you find the ritual she was trying to perform, only needing a few more things, including one last victim, before it's complete.

Supplies and ingredients were laid out all over the table, most of the things looking unfamiliar since she was using an older method of magic. 

Among the items, a box unlocked. The box holding the witch's heart.

"Now, who's the heartless one," you mumble.

"That one's still up for debate," the voice sent a chill down your spine.

You turn around, aiming your gun, but it's too late.

In her true form, thin skin stretched across the witch's face, baring rotting teeth. You could barely see anything else as she wore a tattered black cloak, the hood covering most of her face. 

She grabbed the barrel with long bony fingers, making you miss your shot, and shot the wall behind her instead. Before you could reload, she held out her hand, blowing the contents sitting in her palm in your face.

A floral scent invaded your senses, and your nose felt tingly as you inhaled whatever powder she possessed.

You heard the sound of Haechan calling your name, his footsteps rushing to your location as your body hit the floor.

"You both have been very entertaining to watch. You looking at him when he's not paying attention, and him looking at you once you turn away. Ugh! it's just someing about the secret pining that gets me everytime. So beautiful yet…so painful," the witch looks off dramatically into the distance, "But don't worry now, child. I have freed you of your misery." she speaks, smiling widely.

Before Haechan could get a shot, she moved faster than you'd expect, and she's a lot stronger than you's think for a few centuries-old witch. 

"Haechan," you weakly called his name.

He was quickly disarmed and he couldn't seem to be able to move.

"Ah, I get what all the fuss is about. He's even cuter up close. I might save him for myself," the witch wickedly grinned, "You'd make a perfect vessel," she caressed Haechan's face.

Her skeletal fingers wrapped around Haechan's throat, squeezing his airway. 

Using all the strength you could muster, you reached for the box with her heart. She fell to the ground, weakly crawling toward you to try and stop you as the shard of glass in your hand pierced through the rotted tissue. She cursed at you as she wailed out in agony.  

"You'd do it too, for love," was the last thing she said before burning to ashes. 

"Call us even now," you teased Haechan before you toppled in pain.

"You okay?" Haechan rushes to your side.

"No, something's very wrong. It hurts," you whine.

"What? Where?"

"Everywhere. I don't know what the fuck she did to me."

"Okay. We gotta get you outta here," Haechan slung your arm around his neck, helping you to your feet.

You clung onto Haechan, stumbling over your feet, leaving the house with Haechan's arm around you, keeping you upright. 

You squirmed in the passenger's seat, the pain getting even worse.  

"Haechan, I can't. Everthing fucking hurts," you cry. 

Haechan's knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped the wheel, applying more pressure to the gas, rushing back to your hotel. 

You felt like you were burning inside out while simultaneously being stabbed. Yet you were thinking about how hot Haechan looked. Maybe the end is near.

Haechan's face was set in a hard line, his jaw clenched as he did about 30 over the speed limit. You found your eyes drifting over to him, distracting yourself for a moment. Haechan's sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms rippling under his skin as he held onto the steering wheel. From the dark brown strands falling over his eyes to the jeans hugging his thighs so deliciously you couldn't resist the urge to press your thighs together. 

Your pain subsided for only a second before you shook those thoughts from your head, and your nerves returned to screaming in agony. 

Haechan could care less about how badly he parked the car before running over to your side and helping you out of the car, rushing you into the hotel. Thankfully it was late, and no one was in the lobby other than the receptionist you slipped past without detection. 

The moment you entered your room, you pushed Haechan away and locked yourself in the bathroom. You were taking a cold shower to bring your temperature back down, but you couldn't shake the thoughts of Haechan out of your mind. How good he smelled, how his body felt against yours with you tucked into his side, the genuine concern he showed for you-

You didn't even realize you had your hand between your thighs until you finally felt relief, stroking your clit. You bit your lip, trying to conceal any moans threatening to spill out of your lips. You desperately rubbed your clit, feeling the strongest need for release right now. 

Your eyes were closed, and all you envisioned behind closed eyelids were Haechan. His face, his voice—everything was overwhelming.

You were already so close to cumming, as you thought of Haechan's fingers instead of your own. 

You scraped your nails down the tiled walls, that knot inside you so close to breaking. Until you heard a knock on the door. 

"You okay in there?" Haechan asks from the other side. 

You snap out of it, opening your eyes as guilt and pain washed over you.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah. I'll be out in a second," you yelled to him.

The shower only helped temporarily. You were lying on the bed, half-naked, a thin layer of sweat covering your entire body.  

You tried to wait for Haechan to come back after getting off the phone and hopefully with a solution to this. You were exhausted but still in too much pain to even try sleeping.

Your body jolted, alert once again, hearing the door slamming. 

"Haechan?" 

He didn't hear you calling his name as he flipped through the pages of the witch's grimoire you snagged from the house before leaving. Once Haechan stopped turning through the book, his eyes bounced around the page, reading whatever was written.

"Haechan?" you call him again. 

He tore his eyes away from the page and met your gaze. 

"What is it?" you ask. 

For once, it seemed Haechan was at a loss for words. And his silence was beginning to scare you.

"Haechan, please just tell me," you pleaded.

He sighs, "If it's what Jaemin think's it is, it was phoenix's blossom she hit you with. It's pretty high grade and usually associated with spells of desire." 

You thought this information would've clarified at least a few things, but you were more confused, leaving you with even more questions than answers. 

"Okay, then why the hell does it feel like I'm dying?" 

"The neglect of the heart's desires will ignite the eternal fires from within. Scorching the soul along with it," he read from the pages. 

Fuck me. 

You manage to roll out of bed and over to the minibar, pouring yourself a shot of whiskey.

If you're going to die before you're 30, you're going to at least have one last drink if it really is the end. 

It was like you could feel Haechan's eyes on you as you poured another drink, the alcohol not being enough to eliminate your pain but numb it enough that it became bearable for you. 

You didn't even notice Haechan had moved until he was standing next to you, pouring himself a drink.

He didn't say anything, just sipping on the amber liquid, carefully watching you. He looked at you blankly, and you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You were only starting to focus on how much prettier he looks up close. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you ask him, annoyed with the wordless staring. 

"What are you thinking?"

You scoff before downing the rest of your drink without as much as a wince, "What am I thinking? How pissed I am some old hag got the jump on me like this. How I'm gonna haunt Taeyong's ass from beyond the grave. How I'm never getting those twenty bucks Chenle still owes me." you half-joked. 

The feeling of Haechan's fingers reaching out for your hand made you finally meet his eyes. 

You sighed, "How angry it makes me to look at your face sometimes. How bad I wish things didn't get so fucked up because you were still my friend," you didn't notice he was slowly pulling you closer, "And how badly I miss the way you used to touch me." 

He cupped your face, staring into your eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Why should I?"

"Cause I'm tired of looking at your stupid face," you didn't try too hard to push him away. 

Your skin burns under his touch when Haechan grabs your waist, "Ah. Was this the same stupid face you were thinking about when you were trying to get off in the shower?" 

Haechan teased you when embarrassment took over your face.

"You think I don't remember what you sound like even when you so desperately try to keep quiet."

Haechan cups your jaw, bringing your face closer.

"You don't think I miss the pretty noises you'd make for me." 

You could feel the flood of arousal throughout your body, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

Haechan's eyes are dark, and when you bring your hand to his cheek, you feel how warm his skin is compared to yours. 

"Haechan, you're-"

"I know," was all Haechan said. 

The residue of the phoenix's blossom on his clothes was evidence enough. 

"This shit feels like poison coursing through my veins. And it is unbearably fucking hot in here. But I can't seem to pull myself away for you," Haechan pulled you flush against him.

"I wanna hear you say it," you stop him with your finger on his lips. 

"I want you so bad, it's killing me," he said light-heartedly.

With that, your lips were on his. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, weaving your fingers in his hair. You moaned into his mouth when he pressed your body into the bar behind you. 

You swipe your tongue along the seam of his lips, tangling with his before fighting for dominance. Haechan's hands were all over your body. He cupped your breasts over your bra, softly rubbing your sensitive nipples through the material, making you moan against his lips. You push the both of you away from the bar, Haechan blindly leading you to the bed. 

His legs hit the bed, and you push him down onto the springy mattress, climbing on top of him. Haechan's hands guided your hips, grinding into his cock, your shorts, and his jeans being the only thing between you. His hands kneaded your ass firmly as you dragged your hips against his. 

"Hyuck," you breathe his name. Haechan groans, even more blood rushing to his dick from the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue. 

You started pulling on Haechan's shirt until you got it over his head and off his body, now lying on the floor. You trail your lips down his jaw, nipping his skin between his teeth, leaving openmouthed kisses on the side of his neck. Haechan slid his hand over the curve of your ass, sliding up your back, reaching for the clasp on your bra. He couldn't keep his hands off you. Haechan flipped you onto your back before he slipped one of your nipples into his mouth, flicking the perky bud with the tip of his tongue. You arch into Haechan's touch, his saliva covering your areola as he gives the same attention to the opposite one.

Haechan starts kissing down your body. He sinks his teeth into your skin, taking in how responsive you are to him. 

Placing one last kiss on your hip, Haechan hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts, tearing them down your legs along with your soaked panties. 

Haechan's intense gaze made you want to close your legs out of embarrassment, but he didn't allow them, keeping them apart with his hands. He runs a finger through your folds, coating his fingers in your slick.

Your hips instantly lift against his hand, and he takes amusement in the way you pouted when he drew his hand away.

"Fuck you," you whine.

"We're getting there, baby. Patience." Haechan doesn't hesitate to bring his fingers to his lips, licking your essence off his hand. 

He hums, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. You could've sworn you watched his eyes grow darker; you could barely tell they were brown anymore. 

"Taste as good as I remember, angel," Haechan licks his lips. 

Bringing his hand back between your thighs, Haechan sinks two fingers into your cunt, easily breaching your walls from how wet you are. Moans bubbled up in your throat, the feeling of his fingers curling against your gummy walls eliminating the excruciating pain you were in.

You grab onto his wrist, rolling your hips into his hand.

"Haechan..please fuck me." 

A sound resembling a growl rumbled in his chest, hearing you beg for him. 

You pathetically whined when Haechan left you empty and untouched as he started to take off the last thing he was wearing. Kicking his jeans off, letting his boxers be the last to join the rest of the clothes on the floor, Haechan strokes his cock in his hand. Your mouth waters as you press your thighs together at the sight of him. 

"You know it's been a minute, baby, and I haven't properly prepped you. Think you can take it?" he teases. 

You wrap your hand around his length, squeezing your fist around him, making him curse lowly.

"Can you?" you raise an eyebrow.

Haechan pushes you back onto your back, giving you no warning before slamming into you. 

"Oh, my fucking god, Hyuck!" you cried, your nails painfully digging into his shoulders.

"You're so wet—shit. Pussy feels so fucking good." Haechan groaned, thrusting into you.

You roughly grabbed his hair, smashing your lips into his, and Haechan's pace started to pick up. He dropped his head to watch his cock slip into your heat easily, every time he eased out of you just to fill you up to the hilt again.

Haechan sat back on his haunches, still fucking into your messy pussy. Haechan was in awe of the sight beneath him. The way you tried to move your hips to match his movements but had a hard time keeping up because of the pleasure fogging up your mind.

With his hands still on your waist, Haechan pulled you up to sit in his lap, sinking down even further on his cock.

You threw your head back, moaning shamelessly. You held onto him, gyrating your hips against his. Haechan grabbed your ass, lifting you up before letting you sink back down, the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot.

"You're so hot," Haechan's eyes were glossed over as he looked at you. Your walls clenched around him tightly, humming in agreement as you studied his face.

You gripped his chin between your fingers, squishing his cheeks together before you planted a kiss on his lips.

"I want—I need more. Please, Haechan," you pant against his lips. 

The corners of his lips curled up mischievously. Haechan pushed you back onto the bed, leaving you empty. He then manhandled you onto your hands and knees. You kept your hips raised in the air as he easily slipped back in, bottoming out. You moaned into the sheets, gripping them, feeling Haechan's cock stretch you in the most delicious ways.  

"Fuck, angel," he rasped.

Haechan's fingers gripped your body, bruisingly tight as you matched his rhythm and moved your hips, your skin meeting in sharp slaps each time. Haechan grabbed your ass, spreading your cheeks and watching your sopping pussy swallow his cock. You could feel the slick dripping down your thighs, probably making a mess on Haechan as well. 

"You feel so fucking good, Hyuck," your words were muffled by bedding beneath you.

"Poor baby. So desperate to cum," he started stroking your clit, making you squirm. "Good thing you have me to help make you feel better," he pressed a kiss below your jaw.

"Unfortunately, you're the only thing that can," you tease.

Haechan scoffs as if he took real offense to those words. But oh, was it the best decision you've made all night.

He forced your head back into the pillows, deepening your back's arch and fucking you relentlessly.

"Yes, yes, yes. P-Please—Haechan!"

"You feel that? How good I'm making you feel. Have I already fucked you dumb, sweetheart?" he said in a condescending tone, "What was it you said before?" he asked. Haechan knew you didn't have half a mind to think about anything from even two seconds ago, too consumed in the euphoric feeling of him blowing your back out.

"Hyuck..." was all you could say, and he proudly smiled.

"That's right, baby. Say my name. Remind yourself who's fucking you this good."

"Please, Hyuck. I'm gonna cum."

"Me too, angel." He snaked his hand down between your legs, rubbing your puffy clit. 

You cried into the sheets. The sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis mixed with your muffled whines and Haechan's breathy moans. 

"Let me feel that pretty pussy cum around me," he said in your ear. 

Your pussy had a vice grip on his cock, nearing the edge. Your walls pulsed around his length, your legs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. 

"Haechan, Haechan, Haechan," you chanted his name, riding out the wave of euphoria. 

If it wasn't for Haechan still holding your hips up, your body would have collapsed to the bed. He kept pounding into your heat, your pussy enveloping his cock as he fucked his cum into you. 

You whined, feeling overstimulation begin to overtake you, but Haechan continued to lazily thrust into you. His cum started to leak out of you, dripping down his length and your thighs. 

Haechan's cock finally went soft, leaving you empty, the sticky white substance now coating your folds and inner thighs. 

Haechan rolled you over onto your back, looking into your glassy eyes. The tension filling the room was only accompanied by your heavy breathing.

You brushed his hair out of his eyes before slapping him across the face. Haechan cursed and rubbed his stinging cheek.

"Sorry," you apologized, "Had to make sure."

"Well?"

"Spell's broken," you tell him, sitting up.

"How do you know?"

"Cause I can go back to feeling like I hate you without being in pain again."

Haechan laughs, "You still hate me?" 

"Maybe just a little less," you smile before you kiss him. Haechan wasn't expecting it, but he kissed you back immediately.

"Thank you."

"Are you sure I'm not already dead and in heaven?" 

You laughed, "I'm pretty sure."

. . .

"You sure you're okay?" Jaemin asks over the phone. 

"Yeah."

"And Haechan?" 

You heard Haechan singing in the shower and bit back a smile.  

"He's fine too," you say. "You think the witch knew what she was doing?"

"Of course, she did. She could probably sense the sexual tension between you two the moment you were in town."

"What are you saying? That that was her own twisted way of playing matchmaker?"

"She's a pretty powerful love witch, that's pretty much her specialty."

"If I didn't know any better, I would think you guys sent us here on purpose."

"We did. Just so you guys reconcile whatever was going on between you. But none of us thought this would've happened. You two could've died."

"But we didn't."

"Yeah, you didn't. What're you gonna do about that now anyway?"

"That is something we can figure out on the drive back." 

a/n: now i’m ngl i may have self inserted a little too hard with this one except we actually have a happier ending 🙂

[sineala]

Hi Sine, have you read the new Ultimates (2024)? Any thoughts? I'm currently on the fence, but I'd love to hear your thoughts.

I have read the new Ultimates! I have actually been keeping up with it since Ultimate Invasion, so I've read Ultimate Invasion and Ultimate Universe and am also mostly keeping up with Ultimate Spider-Man, Ultimate Black Panther, and Ultimate X-Men, but since none of those three are really my corner of comics fandom I think I am less qualified to speak to how they are going since I don't generally follow their 616 counterparts and wasn't reading them in the original-flavor Ultimate universe either.

I think the actual Ultimates comic itself has a surprising amount of potential and I'm liking it a lot more than I expected to like it considering that we are only two issues in and the fact that I'd literally never heard of the writer before did not fill me with a lot of confidence. But, y'know, I'm here for Steve and Tony and if Steve and Tony are friends I am, in that regard, fairly easy to please.

So I like the team dynamic so far, but from the beginning I haven't really been a fan of the worldbuilding, and I think a lot of my problems with the worldbuilding would be fixed if they simply had not also called this Ultimates, but as we all know, it is forbidden for Marvel to come up with new names for anything ever.

See, the original Ultimates had a pretty clear and relatively unique mission statement: it was meant to be a low-continuity universe, set in something closer to the real world than 616 is, with grittier and more realistic storylines. The idea was that fans could read and enjoy this universe without needing to know decades of backstory. And, sure, if you knew the backstories there would often be little Easter Eggs, but you're totally capable of reading and enjoying Ults 1, say, if you don't know why the Hulk is gray or why Hank and Jan have a terrible relationship. Because within the context of Ults, that's just how things are. Sure, they're that way because of things that happened in 616, but you don't need to know that.

The original Ults is also gritty and grimdark and polarizing. A lot of people don't like it. The new Ults universe has almost nothing in common with it except that the Maker (Reed Richards) originally hails from Earth-1610. Which, as it happens, does affect the plot a lot, but old Ults and new Ults are different things, and I think the shared name actually hurts new Ults. Because, when you think about it, who's going to want to read this? You've got the people who liked old Ults and are sad that this isn't it. And then you've got the people who didn't like old Ults and have been avoiding this universe because they assume it's the same one. So who's left? People who just like the name "Ultimates?" People who are willing to take a chance on anything Marvel releases? I just feel like there are probably fewer of those people.

I know that the new Ults universe was supposed to be Donny Cates' project before he had to leave due to medical issues, and that Ultimate Invasion was then taken over by Hickman. And honestly I would have liked to see Cates' take, because I wasn't a big fan of Hickman's Ults run, mostly because I didn't like the Maker -- so I'm not, you know, really thrilled that the one thing that gets kept from Earth-1610 is my least favorite character.

The new Ults universe has also pretty much abandoned the two things I thought were the big draw of old Ults: a more "realistic" setting as well as a low amount of continuity. As you probably know, the premise of new Ults is that the Maker goes universe-hopping, gets to Earth-6160, decides that's good enough, stops there, and proceeds to epically fuck shit up. He has his City going, just like 1610. The Earth now has a handful of massive countries, which I guess makes it easier for a shadowy cabal to rule them. So we are definitely abandoning any kind of real-world…geopolitical similarity. Britain and France are the same country; Captain Britain speaks French. China and Japan are the same country. The US fell apart in the 60s. I mean, it's not necessary to use real places in superhero comics -- DC and its array of fictional cities seems to be doing fine -- but it seems weird to do it here when that was supposed to be part of the attraction of Ults (and later on, the MCU, which pulled a lot from Ults). It's a thing people like to read. It gives you a little more investment, I think, as a reader.

The Maker's goal is to prevent superheroes from showing up at all by taking them off the playing field. He gets there at some point after WWII -- because Steve was still Captain America and got iced -- but before the modern Marvel universe kicks off. The Maker is clearly going after as many people as he can. He prevents Peter Parker from being bitten by the spider. He has a creepy museum/mausoleum where he collects artifacts and corpses of dead heroes; for example, we see an adamantium skeleton that is presumably Wolverine's.

Of course, the heroes aren't going to stand for this. Which heroes, you ask? Who's left? Well… mostly Tony, actually. In this universe, Tony is very young and has more of an MCU-influenced backstory in terms of his relationship to his father and to Obadiah Stane. He's also Iron Lad. So, yes, this is a Kang thing. He has help from this universe's Reed (who is masked like Doom) and they're going to assemble the Ultimates and get back as many heroes as they can. Tony finds middle-aged Peter Parker (who is married to MJ and, oh, yeah, Uncle Ben's still alive) and gets him a spider. They are going to fix the world and make everything right.

Is this fun? I think so! I am down for a plot where Tony restores superheroes to his world. However, the thing it isn't is low-continuity. Unlike original Ults, there is so so so much continuity just embedded into the worldbuilding. We see the Maker's big list of characters he's gotten rid of. You're already supposed to know who these people are.

If you pick up the original Ults, let's say Millar's Ults 1 & 2, you don't need to know anything about anything. Sure, like I said, there are lots of things in it that are callbacks to 616, but you don't actually need to know what they are to understand the plot. But everything in new Ults is, within the plot, a reference to something else in the multiverse. They're putting things back the way they were. To do that, you actually need to know something about the way things were. Some of this stuff is going to be obvious to most people who are even vaguely familiar with comics -- I don't read Spider-Man, generally, and even I know it's a big deal that Uncle Ben is alive. But not all the changes are as big as that, and if you don't know them, it's confusing. Ultimate X-Men is all about a teenage schoolgirl named Hisako, in the country presumably formerly known as Japan. "Mutants" don't seem to be a recognized group of people. She doesn't know anything about her powers and I didn't even know she was a mutant until someone told me that was Armor, a mutant obscure enough that I only vaguely remembered her after I was told her name. I spent all of issue 1 wondering who this character was and why I was reading a horror comic about her classmates dying and what she had to do with anything. Apparently she's a mutant and I would know that if I had kept up with X-Men.

Over in the realm of the Ultimates themselves, the worldbuilding has a lot of stuff I wouldn't bank on people just knowing. Does a casual fan know who Iron Lad is? It's probably going to matter! The FCBD issue features Steve liberating Jim Hammond from the Maker's storage. Now, I am very fond of the Invaders and I was thrilled that someone here at Marvel remembered Jim Hammond, but I would bet that a lot of people reading this don't know who Jim Hammond is or why Steve wants to find him. Similarly, I thought Midas was a great villain for Ultimates #2 but I also read a discussion thread where someone asked who he was and three people in a row managed to extremely confidently misidentify Midas' origin and what decade of comics he was from. The earliest they got was the 90s. (Iron Man #17 is from 1969, guys. Also the first appearance of Whitney Frost as Madame Masque, which is why I know it.)

(Skipping ahead a little to the Ultimates team itself, you can take Hank and Jan as an example. They're both recruited in Ultimates #1 and Hank learns about what he's like on other worlds and his first concern is whether he's going to hurt Jan if he becomes a superhero. To fully understand this plot point, you actually need to know what Hank has done, because otherwise you don't actually know what he is upset about -- and that means you need to be familiar with a bunch of other comics. In the old Ults, Hank just hits Jan. Yes, Mark Millar went for the gritty, edgy choice. But it's also a choice that doesn't require you to know anything about Hank hitting Jan in any other universe. It just matters that it's happening here.)

This is a roundabout way of saying that, after Ultimate Invasion and Ultimate Universe, and seeing the starts of the other Ultimate comics, I didn't have high hopes for the new Ultimates comic, and I also had never heard of the writer, which didn't really help.

And then I started reading the new Ultimates comics and I know we've only got two issues but I honestly really like them. Like I said, I am here for the high-continuity new universe; I don't think that's necessarily going to be a winning long-term move in terms of getting new Ults fans, but, like, I am in this fandom partly because I like being in fandoms with massive amounts of continuity.

Jan is great. Did I say that already? No? Jan is so great.

And, of course, I am a Steve/Tony fan, so I am here for the Steve/Tony dynamic and I think it's really interesting. Steve wants to have a revolution. Hell yeah. I'll definitely read that Captain America. He knows the world's wrong and he wants to fix it. 1610 Steve -- in early canon, at least -- just kind of exuded depression from every pore and Did Not Want To Be Here but he was a soldier, goddammit, and he was going to run the mission. 616 Steve was a little more lost, still sad, but kind of keeping that to himself as much as possible and trying to just find meaning in leading the team and the things the team was doing. This new guy seems more like that. but sadder. because the world is way more fucked up. I mean, he woke up and learned America didn't exist anymore, which has to be a downer.

I'm still not a fan of the Iron Lad thing, but the letter Tony writes to Howard is pretty amazing.

It's interesting that Tony is younger and so much less experienced than Steve. He's clearly smart, of course, but it's clear they're not great at teamwork yet -- not because they don't like each other, but because they don't know each other well enough, which I think is interesting and which I haven't really seen in canon, because this wasn't a thing Marvel was going to show us in 1964. But, like, we've had multiple fight scenes where they aren't quite pulling off the plan as intended -- say, when they're rescuing Jim Hammond and no one else can do what Steve is asking so he just does it himself. Or in #1, Steve telling Tony that his recruiting plan isn't going to work, and Tony not listening, and then, surprise, it doesn't work. Or in #2, when Tony tries to tell Steve that his suit modification will drain all his power if he uses it, and he doesn't manage to tell Steve this, so he does the thing when Steve tells him to do it and then, surprise, he has no power. Like, that doesn't happen in 616. Either 616 Tony does the stupid thing without ever telling Steve because he knows Steve would tell him no, or he just flat-out tells Steve no because he's not afraid to disagree with him, or he asks Steve for advice and actually follows it. They don't do this. So this is pretty fun. It's different. Maybe Tony is a little intimidated by Captain America? We shall see!

I'm a little grumpy that Ults is making me like (presumably) Teen Tony, though. I did not like The Crossing! I really did not!

So, yeah, it's interesting! Looking forward to seeing more of it! It could all go wrong, of course, and two issues is kind of a small sample size, but so far I'm into it.

[starlightsuffered]

Monster under the Bed

Info - CNC, monster Timothée, skull fuck, Dom Timmy, oral (male receiving), dark Timothée, supernatural

I'd been up so many nights lately, tossing and turning and unable to sleep. I wished dearly that I knew what it was that felt like it lingered on the edge of my vision.

It wasn't as if this was a new house. I'd moved into the dimly lit apartment three years ago. I'd never felt the presence I felt now.

All I could figure was that I was just feeling a bit off because l'd been on holiday. I'd saved up to visit Europe just like l'd always dreamed. I'd hit up Ireland, Italy, and France. It had been a whirlwind adventure.

Only one thing had been missing. I hadn't had any sort of one night stand or romance. I'd hoped for a couple day fling. Ravaging one another in a foreign hotel room, ordering room service because we wanted to spend every moment we could wringing pleasure from one another.

I'd tried with many a handsome fellow, but it didn't work. In fact, when I began to talk they almost seemed scared. Sure I was American, but that didn't mean I was holding bombs on myself.

I would see a man, and smile. He'd saunter over to me. I would place my hand on his chest or cup his jaw. He would open his mouth and say his name in a delicious accent. Then, it would be my turn. I would open my mouth and whoever I was holding would go pale. They would back away as I uttered my name. Unrecognisable emotion would always fill their eyes. They'd go stumbling away as if I'd screamed at them.

When I got home, I expected to be able to relax. I couldn't. I felt like I was being watched. I attributed it to having been around so many people, and now being alone. However, the feeling was lasting days.

I felt nervous all the time. It seemed like there was something or someone lingering on the edge of my vision.

Whenever I turned, nothing was there. Things were just as they were supposed to be. I couldn't figure out why my skin prickled so badly when I was alone in my house.

I sighed and laid my head down. My eyes were too heavy to keep reading fanfiction. I had desperately hoped that the fluff would make me feel better. I still felt extremely uncomfortable.

I tried to slow the pounding of my heart. I heard a scuffling and I shot up. I looked around warily. I didn't see anything out of order. My head was playing tricks on me surely.

"Just stop y/n, you're being paranoid," I sighed. I flopped down onto the bed.

"Are you?" Came a dark voice. My eyes sprung open. Inches from my face was the most horribly lovely creature I'd ever seen. Something about him was other worldly even if he did appear to be human shaped.

My heart was skipping beats as the feral thing drooled saliva down onto my face. Warmth pooled in my core and I didn't know why or how that was happening. The breath of the monster washed over me. To my surprise it didn't smell rank or putrid. It smelled like expensive wine and cologne and a warm crackling fire.

Suddenly, I was too hot to stay still. I was prickling all over. I wanted to move or to blink away the being in front of me.

"Y-you've been in my house," | gulped.

"Clever girl," he said. His neck cracked as he turned his head to the side.

"Pretty girl," he hissed. His hand caressed my cheek. His skin was cold even though he radiated heat.

"What are you?"

"Oh?" He chuckled. "Not who? What?"

"I-I can tell you aren't real. I don't even know if this is real," I said shakily.

"Oh darling, this is terribly real," he said with mock sympathy. My heart was pounding so harshly it almost hurt.

Blood roared in my ears. My heaving bosom pressed against the lean chest of the beast.

"You let something in when you came baaaaack," he said in an alarming sing song voice.

"What?" I breathed.

"Something dark," he giggled madly. "Something wild, and fierce and immortal."

"Oh," I gasped as his long body pressed against mine.

"I am the madness on the fringes of your mind. I am the devil on your shoulder. I am the nightmare that won't let you go. I am the monster under your bed, and now pretty girl," he cooed and blew air along my neck. "I want IN the bed."

He harshly grabbed my jaw. The creature was beautiful as an evil smile unfurled over his face. He rammed two fingers inside my mouth. I dutifully sucked them.

I was scared but I was excited. I didn't know who this Angel of death was. I didn't know why I wanted him. All I knew was this felt right in the most wrong way.

I felt like Eve taking that first bite of the apple. A terrible pleasure I shouldn't know about overtook my body. I realised he was completely nude.

"How could I resist?" He asked me. "Such a pretty little thing that sleeps so soundly. I watch you, you know."

"You do?" I asked, feeling tears prick my eyes. I didn't know what to feel. I was overwhelmed.

"I can't stop now," he purred.

His hard cock dangled over my mouth. He pried my lips open. He forced his dick into my wet warmth. I whined around the length.

"Such a pure girl aren't you? You don't want this," he teased me.

He grabbed either side of my face. He was ramming his cock into my skull. I was gagging and drooling. He wouldn't stop even if I choked, I could see it in his eyes.

"Don't lie to yourself. You wanted this every moment of that vacation. I clung to you even then. You couldn't make your dreams come true, so I made a nightmare of lust bring me to life."

He sounded wild. He was hammering into my mouth. The way he used me like a doll, had come to me of all people, had chased off every other man, turned me on. I felt naughty and desired.

I arched into his crotch. His long finger tangled in my hair. He was yanking my head up to give himself pleasure.

My throat was being stuffed full of dick.

"You like it!" he hissed over and over. He was grunting and moaning like an animal in heat.

My eyes were full of tears as I tried to take what he pushed deep in my mouth. Spittle coated my chin, I reached up shakily to grasp his bicep. I held him tight to let him know. I needed him to know I didn't resent him. I was thankful for this dark gift of pleasure. I needed to be used and treated like this. I had needed it for longer than I even knew.

"I'm going to fucking poison you with my cum. It will crawl through your veins and infect your body. You'll never feel the same again, and never crave anyone else the same way," he told me. He was grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm going to spill my hot seed down your throat,"he groaned. He was rutting into my mouth. He let out a roar and ropes of cum were flooding my insides. I dutifully gulped down what he provided me.

"Good girl," he sighed and caressed a thumb down the front of my throat.

I didn't remember falling asleep. I didn't remember the man leaving. When I woke up I nearly thought the whole thing had been a dream. However, that feeling of a dark entity was gone. I no longer felt the fear and paranoia.

Instead I felt this deep longing, an ache in my gut. I didn't know which one was worse.

[lia-bookrambles]

I was in the mood for something light to watch last night. I remembered My Lady Jane started streaming and checked it out. Honestly, I didn't watch the trailer nor read about it - I saw a quick shot from the trailer, though, I think.

Anyhow, I expected it to be a period drama tv show and I was blown away by the intro because it is... not it. It just uses real historical figures and real events then adds a shape-shifter twist and sometimes ridiculous dialogue and scenes and whatnot. And My Lady Jane ended up being exactly what I needed.

I've finished six episodes and I'm reluctant to binge the last two because I don't want the season to end, lol.

A bit of spoilers below about pairings in the show and their intimate scenes.

Also, I'd like to point out the ridiculousness of the sex scenes between Mary and Seymour as well as Frances and Stanley and then there are the scenes between Jane and Guildford. All of them did a really good job of portraying the characters' dynamic. But what I didn't expect this series to do was for the actors of Jane and Guildford to go all out with the moans, especially the guy. I can't remember one series that I watched where the man was vocal.

[pixiesfz]

Mackenzie Arnold x reader

plot: Mackenzie and her new fiancé are out to go shopping for your wedding, when you wake up you think of the day when she did give you the ring

warnings: none (except for the fact this is my first tumblr post)

You were very excited for today, you were about to start shopping for your wedding to the love of your life.

You still remember when she dropped down on one knee, it was after the France game and you decided to surprise her at the end of the game but when Courtney Vine's ball hit the net you couldn't help but scream so loud that your significant other heard you and ran over to you.

No words were said as she picked you up and brought you over to the field and hugged you "I thought I fucked it up" she whispered, referring to when she missed her penalty "So what if you missed a penalty kick, you saved so many goals for them to get, you've made history" you smiled and kissed her temple "now go celebrate with your team" you laughed as you saw Sam Kerr running over to your girlfriend.

"Macca!"

The captain jumped on Mackenzie's back as you winked at her "Of course we did it, your good luck charm was here" Sam smiled before fake bowing at you "Milady" You laughed at her antics before turning on your heels "I'm staying at the hotel across the road!" you yelled to your girlfriend before walking back to the stands.

Back in the hotel, you got changed into your pj's and started to get ready for bed, you had been home for a while and had expected Mackenzie to come over but she had just made Australian history with her teammates so you assumed she was out partying with them.

Spitting your toothpaste out and rinsing out your mouth with water is when you hear knocking at your door. "No room service!" you yelled out before hearing chuckling "Not room service babe" You heard your girlfriend's voice behind the door which you were now practically skipping to.

Opening it is when your smile grows, and your girlfriend stands there with a big smile on her face "Where have you been?" you ask "What do you mean?" Mackenzie pulls a face "You just took a while that's all" you shrugged "thought you were celebrating with the girls"

"I'd rather celebrate with my girlfriend" she simply stated as she put her bag down

It was at times like this you realized how hopelessly in love with the goalkeeper you were, she had just done something so special and she wanted to celebrate with you, her girlfriend who only got into soccer because of her when you ran into her at a Bali sports bar during the men's world cup when the Socceroos lost and then left Alanna and Caitlin to ramble about the rules of soccer to a girl she had just met.

"Alright" you smiled "I'll go put something nice on then" and Mackenzie nodded her head.

When you closed your door Mackenzie let out a big breath as she picked out the box she had spent so long getting, after the game she decided it was time, you were her good luck charm and she never wanted to lose you.

You had no idea what was happening outside your room door as you were deciding between two tops, opening the door you went to ask your girlfriend but she had a different idea.

Right in front of you was Mackenzie with one knee down, tears spiking out of her eyes out of nerves, and a beautiful ring in her hands as she held it towards you.

She shrugged "I know I don't have roses on the floor but-" "yes" you cut her off immediately but she brang the ring closer to her

"Let me do the cute long speech that I wrote and memorized in the car" she sassed as a tear ran down your cheek.

You always remembered that night in France with the biggest smile on your face, even now as you watched your sleeping Fiancé next to you who snuggled closer to you

"What are you smiling about," she asked "You are just so stubborn" You smiled and you felt her eyes roll on your chest "you ready for today?" she asked, knowing your excitement about weddings

"ready Freddy" you joked as Mackenzie laughed at the fact that it was so bad but you silenced her by pecking her on the lips

"leave in 15?" you asked and Mackenzie wrapped her arms around you and turned so she was on top of you on the bed and cuddling you like a koala

"make it 30"

[sssusuki]

Completely unrelated to anything I have ever said or reblogged but I genuinely love the way they handled Fontaine. While some things could've been made even better, the way they handled this was so good. The fact Arlecchino was a genuine threat and Furina actually fooled EVERYBODY (including me) about her true nature is fantastic. While I know Genshin is a game that makes good looking characters for the specific factor of revenue, this fits in Furina so well and also her struggles. 500 years of fooling everybody and the only thing separating her from the common folk was she was unable to die of old age or age at all. Like, that implies she has had to work to look like a god. To act like one and fool everybody is already hard, but taking into account that Furina has to upkeep her appearance while not only stressing over the prophecy and helping her people? She had it rough. She was a genius through and through to the very end that even now people are downplaying her smarts. Not only did she have to do all of this, but also the fact she had to regularly participate in trials and oversaw all of them? This means even more research and studying into her already packed schedule and the fact she can perfect her appearance so flawlessly despite all this stress is absolutely impressive. Truly shows her hard work. It really payed off. Anyways, Fontaine in general was such a good patch and definitely a refresher from what was previous.

When Genshin first came out and they released the trailer for all the nations and Masquerade of the Guilty showed up, I was so excited for that one because it made me imagine something similar to Piltover and Zaun with Rococo fashion inspirations. Ruffles and roses alongside gears and machinations and overall a very dark premise with oil and golden lights and very much French revolution viva la revolution kinda pizzazz. Of course it's not what we got but I still love both ideas. Also, I remember seeing an idea where Furina wasn't suppose to be the Hydro Archon and she was the youngest of three and the middle became what was the giant god killing machine we see at the end. Anyways, I had a lot of ideas and honestly? Both are great and I loved how they handled Fontaine, and especially their women in the cast because we haven't seen such good handling previously.

I love how they made Clorinde a very head strong person that can keep up with Wriothesley of all people and of course Arlecchino who does bad things for the sake of her nation (and also has questionable morality because of her while child soldier business but yeah). I could go on a whole talk about Clorinde because I really like how they handled her character and also the fact she is genuinely serious about the ongoings of her nation and not someone who just cares because it makes them look good morally.

Navia I was expecting to be a bit more noble in etiquette and kind of somebody who bit off more they could chew with trying to find out who murdered her father and it's kind of her coming to a realization and growing as a person but I like how they took her character as well. How I imagined her character was someone who was sheltered and had that bubble break when their father was murdered and despite her people's wishes decided to try and figure it out. It would make sense then why she would need help figuring it out because she doesn't have experience. Sure, she has good etiquette and knows her way around society but she has never dealt with this. This would lead to scenarios where the MC/Clorinde would help her with the case and getting closer while she helps them work around high society so they can achieve their goal. It'd end with Navia coming to a realization how naive she has been while talking with Clorinde because she blames her for his death. Anyways, Navia is super cool and I'd love to see them use Navia's upperclassmen status more because that can be so funny and also sosososo stressful. Especially in a place based off of France where the fashion changed every month or so and you had to play hot potato with your words.

Also, Lyney and Lynette were such good starts with the Fontaine story. They were introductions. Bright and beautifully talented people with a very dark heart beneath. I would've liked them to be more morally ambiguous because that would've been so cool and also bad moral intrigue to the story instead of definite evil vs good but I understand why they went that route. Anyways, I would've loved to see them develop Lynette and Freminet more as children part of the House of the Hearth as well as more lore on House of the Hearth in general because Arlecchino is very suspicious with her morality right now with it and I am loving it.

Neuvillette is probably among my favorite characters because Hoyoverse actually made a strong male character who is allowed to be vulnerable and emotional?? Woah. Anyways, Neuvillette is such a good character and the way they handled him is phenomenal. I would not change anything. Actually, I'd like to see him cry more in the story it's great.

Wriothesley is certainly interesting! I was totally expecting him to take a more antagonistic role in the prison but he didn't. I would've loved to see him be more against the traveller and people above (Like Navia or Neuvillette for instance) to show that class gap because France and Fontaine both have those, do not @ me. Anyways, I would've loved to see Wriothesley go more in depth on the class divide in Fontaine as well as how prisoners are treated down there as well. However, he was definitely a good character and I enjoyed how he bounced off of Clorinde like colleagues.

I could go on on on and on but I will NOT and save it for ANOTHER DAY

[cuddleyhoney]

hey love, can i request smutty john wick x reader with hunter x pray vibe? and the reader gets scared eventually so john has to reassure her that he would never hurt her ;)

this is such a cute idea omg -- this fic is really loooong

john wick x fem reader

mysterious meeting

John was a very mysterious man, you had only met him a couple times. He was on a work trip in France, he was a "traveling business man". John was staying in an apartment building near yours, occasionally he would walk past you on the street on his way to "work" or see you while he was getting coffee. He knew he only had a couple days left being in your city, but he didn't want the opportunity of meeting you to go to waste.

The sky was turning into a deep shade of grey as you were walking home from work, working at a fashion intern was challenging more days than expected. At least you got to wear cute outfits to work right? Whilst walking home in your high heeled shoes on the hard french concrete small drops of rain began to poor, slowly but surely.

The rain seemed to speed up as you were walking until you brushed the shoulder of an older man on accident, you were astonished and quite embarrassed. He was beautiful, wearing a formal attire holding a black umbrella. You timidly spoke saying "I'm sorry", but he replied "It's alright, would you like to stand under my umbrella?" You realized you both were walking in the same direction so you quickly nodded your head saying yes.

He smelled of rich cologne with notes of coconut, looking at him on your right side you could see he was a very pretty human. To him he thought you were a marvelous woman from just meeting. Soon after enough he walked you home, you thanked him dearly. He then said "I'd love to get to know you more, but i'm only here for a couple more days." You looked at him with slight sadness now after hearing he will probably magically disappear within a week. While both of you were still at your front door you replied "Could you wait for a minute?". Unlocking your door quickly you ran into your beautiful apartment scavenging to find a pen, a red pen you grabbed and wrote your number on a clean page from your diary. Writing your phone number and name, you then sped over and handed the paper to John. He speaking curiously "What's this?" and with you replying "A way to contact me if you ever get bored in the city."

Later that night John was standing in the shower of his luxurious apartment thinking to himself what he could do with you. With droplets of water sprinkling upon him he was fascinated about how he's been seeing you on him route to work each day, but today was different. He wanted to know you, maybe even have a relationship of some sort, but he also had a fear of you becoming afraid of him. He was an older man.

The next day was you got a text from an unknown number "Hi, its me I hope I don't creep you out but would you like to get ice-cream or something with me this afternoon?" He secretly wanted more than that but he didn't want to seem to aggressive. Instantly you replied to him and choosing the perfect time for the both of you.

You decided to meet up at the ice cream shop, of course John was there 5 minutes early. He didn't want to waste a second of being with you, just the thought of you made him excited. The two of you greeted each other with a hug, a very amorous hug that didn't go unnoticed by both of you. You chose your favorite ice-cream flavor and John chose chocolate. Sitting at an outside table he asked about what you did for work, your favorite artist, and your personal life. He just wanted to know as much as he could about you, it was like you were a book with endless pages.

While you both were sitting you realized how perfect he was, his velvet soft voice with the combination of his light brown eyes was enough to allure you completely. He was more mature, something you weren't used to. John then spoke quietly "Would you like to come back to my house later to watch a movie?". Naively you spoke "yea why not"

He held your hand on the trip back to his home, the sun was setting and you felt cozy. The cool breeze made you shiver, but smile nonetheless.

John welcomed you into his sophisticated high rise apartment, overlooking the beautiful view of France. He then quickly started making popcorn and advised you to turn on the tv to pick a movie. Picking a cult classic "Pulp Fiction" the both of you sat on his lovely sofa. John walked over to you with a bowl of popcorn, while making signaling hand gestures with you to cuddle.

Not even 15 minutes into watching the movie you felt John's hands roam on your legs and thighs. You looked at him with lust, it was like he knew all along how much you wanted him, but you had never been with a man his age, let alone with his skill. He held you closely pecking small kisses onto your cheeks, your hands began to roam his body. Feeling your touch made him feel alive. Nobody was able to make him feel this type attraction or even arousal in years.

You slowly knelt upwards sitting in front of John, kissing him passionately whilst making eye contact with him. His hands explored your upper thighs. He couldn't wait. He picked up your body as if you were a doll. Quickly speeding over to his room, a room filled with the coolest art you had ever seen. His bed was huge, but his bed was usually spent with him lying in it lonesomely. He placed your precious body on his soft sheets.

You were still frightened of what would happen next. Not knowing if the "relationship" between you guys would even be held to his heart as closely as it would be to you. Immediately you were filled with fear and anxiety, John could see it in your eyes. You asked for a glass of water claiming you were thirsty but in reality you were afraid of what was to happen next.

John was a little irritated, he loved your sweet scent, and your quirkiness. He wanted to get to know you more. He knew he could be a little intimidating so he let you have a few minutes to yourself, so he caught up on a few emails on his phone while sitting in his kitchen.

After walking back over to John you slowly move your hands on his chest, he lit up with excitement and eagerness. Your hands traced over his shoulders and arms. Instantly he began to give you kisses whilst holding you closely, you tried to unbutton his shirt but it was like he ripped it off of himself. He then began to make you unravel. Quickly he removed your top off, moving his hands around your torso you felt like a dainty fairy. In the midst of kissing you didn't even notice the both of you had your bottoms off as well but you were still a little scared.

You took a breath from the heavy session, saying vaguely "I'm scared" John looked at you and understood he wanted you to have a good experience with him not just something he would enjoy. He grabbed your hand and you followed him to his bedroom once more. Placing you in the middle of his bed gently he began to remove your underwear. He smirked seeing you soaked.

He began to lean over you and place soft kisses on your chest. John then inserted one of his fingers into you making you gasp quietly. He spoke saying "You're such a sweet girl" then adding another into you, he loved see your reaction of what he was doing inside of you showing on your face. He loved having so much power over you.

He removed his two fingers from you and pulled down his grey underwear. It was definitely a sight you wouldn't want to miss. John inserted himself into you, it hurt just for a few seconds then he began to speed up at the perfect pace. He was an older guy so he was more skilled right?

He had you in the perfect angle and position hitting your soft spot. You tried to grasp on to what ever was near you but his bed was a place that had no soft bears or plushies to hold you definitely took note of that. John was a compassionate lover, he got off on seeing your reactions to his touch and words...

The night ended with you both cuddling in the shower telling and small comments usually consisting of "I love you".

the end for now xoxo...

thank you for reading!!

[merbear25]

”You’ll have to teach me” for France? Preferably with something safe for *cough* *cough* corporate sensibilities.

Hello, hello! Thank you for sending in this request! I read 'corporate' and ran with that as the setting. Hope you like it!

CW: SFW but suggestive, gn!reader, a bit of a power dynamic.

Following your lead

You'd been interested in working along side France for quite sometime; being able to contribute to one of the greatest world powers was your drive to do well in your studies. With your ambitious nature leading you to your dream job, you were thrilled to have secured the position as his assistant. Thoughts of standing by his side, aiding him in any pressing decisions that may come your way, and overall presenting yourselves as a team had you walking on air.

With that being said, you weren't expecting the fluttering feelings that'd eventually captivate you; those brief moments of flirtation at the beginning of your career lingered in your memories. Thinking of such, inevitably heated your chest and flushed your cheeks.

The physical closeness was another aspect of your dynamic that made your head spin: gently brushing against you while showing you something, lightly laying his hand on the small of your back when trying to lead your attention somewhere. His touch which—when accompanied by complementary comments on your clever ideas and your laugh—left you lying awake at night, engrossed in your own fantasies.

In spite of the attention he gave you, you were very much aware of him showing the same to others. You contemplated whether or not this side of him would cause your growing interest in him to faulter—the point was mute, as you were willing to pursue a man with such habits regardless.

In the passing months, your responsibilities were becoming more complex, which left you second guessing your competence. This wasn't to say that you were doing poorly at completing any of them, although the worrying thoughts of being incapable of keeping up your success rate were closing in. You felt as if you needed a bit more guidance in how you handled your new trying workload.

You could think of no one more appropriate to ask than the captain of this ship—France. As you stood outside his office door, you hesitantly brought your hand up to it, thinking that perhaps he was far too busy to fulfill your minute request. Despite this sliver of doubt, you knocked and were permitted entry.

Looking up from his work, a smile spread across his face when he saw it was you who'd come to visit him. "What can I do for you?" The question was left airy with a faint sultry undertone.

A slight heat nipped at your cheeks, but you tried to keep sight of your purpose for distrubing him, "Sir, I fear as though I may be misinterpreting some of the tasks you've given me. I'd like some clarification on what exactly you need from me." Choking back your shame, you admitted, "You'll have to teach me."

His smile became coy and he eased himself out of his chair to gain a more personable feel to the conversation, "That's quite the loaded request, my dear."

Letting his eyes fall on you, soaking in the magnificent assistant he was so lucky to have by his side, words of encouragement were first to leave his lips, "Of course, I'm always more than happy to help you."

Taking a short pause, the next words trailing behind signaled a pounding within your chest, "However, frankly speaking, I'm far more interested in fulfilling more passionate needs."

Your chest heaved at the newfound avenues being paved in your relationship. A gnawing pressure to push forth and explore your fantasies of him was too persistent to ignore, "I couldn't agree more, sir."

[unkillablegod]

rae, 30, she/they, bi, vers switch. france. half catgirl, half puppygirl, one hundred percent feral gremlin with an obvious god complex. currently studying for a master's degree in film & the audiovisual arts. this is a personal, nsft blog that i use mostly to vent, post about k!nk & share lewds! USED TO BE: FERALGOD & YOURFERALGOD BEFORE BEING UNCEREMONIOUSLY NUKED (:

𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 are open for questions & confessions ONLY. i am not here to entertain anyone's fantasies but my own, so don't project yours on me & expect me to play along. you can send me suggestive asks as long as it's not about something i'd do for you. this is all fantasy! also, harsh reminder that anons, like pets, don't fucking get to make demands. i will not hesitate to put you on blast for all to see then block you if you make me uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐌𝐬 are reserved for mutuals. fair warning: i'm a shy bean & rarely have the energy to interact with anyone, so if i don't reply right away or at all, please don't take it personally.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 for mention or depiction of violence, graphic imagery, hard kinks & fantasies (cnc, cbt, branding, degradation, blasphemy, knife play), mental illness & overall unhinged & rage-fueled insanity.

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 if you're a minor, an ageless/blank blog, racist, a misogynist, a transphobe & anti-LGBTQIA+ (this includes but is not limited to TERFs, SWERFs and radfems) as a whole, a pedophile/MAP, a zoophile, pro-ana, fatphobic, ableist, a fat fetishist, a "sugar daddy" or "sugar mommy", or just an asshole/creep in general. unless we're mutuals DO NOT add comments, save for tagging someone, or roleplay on my posts. ANY OF THESE THINGS WILL GET YOU AUTOMATICALLY BLOCKED.

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: nsft carrd / sfw carrd ; backup ; twitch channel ; patreon

.↓ 𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒, 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒 & 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓 ↓.

. ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ .

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 as a sub: my) baby girl ; (my) princess ; (my) puppy / pup ; kitten ; bunny ; (my) fucktoy ; (my) slut ; (my) whore ; (my) angel ; little one ; (my) property ; brat ; (my) good girl.

as a dom: mistress / master ; mommy / daddy ; (my) god ; ma'am ; (my) queen ; (my) liege ; your highness.

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 pegging ; begging ; blindfolding ; bondage ; body worship ; branding ; breath play ; breeding ; cock, ball & pussy torture ; consensual nonconsent ; corruption ; ddlg & mmlb  ; dacryphilia ; degradation ; desacration ; dom/sub ; dumbification ; edging ; forced orgasm ; free-use ; hair pulling ; impact play ; knife-play ; masochism ; master/slave ; objectification ; over-stimulation ; orgasm control ; pain play ; pet play ; piss play ; power play ; role-play ; sadism ; somnophilia ; voice kink ; voyeurism ; video/photography ; worship

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒 vore ; scatology ; vomit ; extreme body modification ; birthing ; inflation ; self-harm ; age-play ; diapers ; enemas ; clothespins; needles ; pins ; cheating ; race play