#and like it's not like its a strictly modern take too

[lackadaisycats]

I tried to answer this succinctly, but it turned into an essay. (Sorry.)

The Princess and the Frog was not accurate, strictly speaking, but dinging it for that would be like criticizing the Lion King for not being a realistic wildlife documentary. Accuracy wasn't really the point. Given the fantastical elements and fictional nations like “Maldonia”, I suppose we're meant to understand this as a bit removed from the real New Orleans. It's more a a jazz-flavored fairy tale than a historical fiction.

But for discussion's sake....

Is it fashion-accurate to its 1926 timeframe? Ehhh, sort of. It pays homage to 20s fashion trends with cloche hats, furs and feathery headpieces, but without fully committing to it. The waistline on almost all of Tiana's clothing is too high for the 20s, and the the shapes of her fancier costumes take a lot of liberties, or deviate wildly from the style of the period.

In the 20s, dresses (including workaday stuff) tended to have a straight up-and-down shape to it - kind of a low-waisted rectangle that de-emphasized curves instead of highlighting them. There are valid reasons to play fast and loose with that, though (something I’m definitely guilty of as well). One of those reasons is communication. 

For instance, speculatively, the filmmakers wrote Tiana as a hard-working waitress and wanted her to look the part, so they made the choice to clothe her in something familiar - that gingham dress of mid-century shape that we broadly associate with diner waitresses. Actual waitress uniforms of the 20s had a fair bit of overlap with maid uniforms at the time too, and I can see why they wouldn't want to risk the confusion. It's more important to communicate clearly with the larger audience than to appease a small faction of fashion nerds who'd notice or care about the precision.

I don't think it's a case of the designers failing to do their research - I'm sure they had piles of references, and maybe even consultants - but they also had to have priorities.

With her hat and coat on, she looks a lot more 1920s-shaped.

Pretty consistently, the indication of the characteristic 1920s drop waist is there, but the approach otherwise ignores the 20s silhouette. The clothes hug the body too much. This may be about appealing to a 2000s audience, visually speaking, but also could be an animation thing. Maybe both. For practical reasons, clothes in 2d animation are usually more a sort of second skin than something that wears or behaves like realistic fabric.

These are not in the 1920s ballpark at all. Tiana's blue gown looks like your basic Disney brand invention. Strapless things would have been extremely unusual and the overall shape is far out of step. Excusable, I guess, because it's a costume in context. Charlotte looks like she’s heading for a mimosa brunch in a modern maxi dress.

Charlotte's princess dress did seem to be calling back to the ultra-wide pannier side hoops of the 18th century - something that made a reappearance for part of the 20s, albeit in much milder form called robe de style. I'm not sure if the filmmakers were alluding to that at all, really, but either way, her dress is hilarious.

They only went about halfway with the cloche hats. The 1920s cloche really encapsulated the cranium, almost entirely covered bobbed hair, and obscured much of the face from certain angles, so it's easy to see why they've been somewhat reined in for the film. Still, it ends up looking more 1930s, where the hats started to recede away from the face, evolving in the direction of the pillbox.

Similarly, Tiana's hair is not very reminiscent of the bobbed, close-to-the-cranium style of the period, but I think that could legitimately be written off as characterization. She's not at all the type of person who'd fuss about going à la mode. Not everyone bobbed and finger-waved their hair.

The clothes Prince Naveen is introduced in are very 1920s collegiate in spirit - the wide-leg oxford bags, the sleeveless pullover sweater, the flat cap, and high, stiff collar. The ukulele and banjolele were pretty trendy instruments at the time too.

Definitely some Josephine Baker vibes here. Also, the look of this whole fantasy sequence was reportedly inspired by the works of Aaron Douglas, a luminary painter of the Harlem Renaissance known for his depictions of the lives of African-Americans. (The mural is in Topeka, Kansas.)

They pretty much nailed the Art Deco. It's gorgeous. Looks somewhat inspired by the interiors of some of the Ralph Walker-designed NYC architecture, plus some French Quarter balcony flair for the final manifestation of Tiana's Place. Her dress here does resemble some gauzy mid-1920s looks, too.

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

Culturally speaking...

New Orleans is an unusual place. Because some of the colonial Spanish and French laws and conventions that New Orleans evolved under persisted even after its inception into the United States; because it was such a heterogeneous hub of indigenous and immigrant peoples; and because it had a considerable population of free people of color (mostly Creole), it did not function quite like the rest of the South leading up to the Civil War, nor for a while after. Its particular coalescence of cultures made it its own unique sort of culture within the country, within the region, within the state of Louisiana even. By the early 20th century, though, regardless of the not-very-binary nature of New Orleans, Jim Crow laws were enforcing a literal black-and-white distinction, and not an evenhanded one, by far. In that aspect, the city had begun to resemble the rest of the South.

The film nods at the wealth disparity, but goes on to paint a pretty rosy picture of race and class relations at the time. Still it's not unbelievable that some people were exceptions to the rules. You could probably find a few compartments of old New Orleans society that resisted segregation or certain prejudicial norms, preferring to do things their own way. That aside, the film wasn't trying to confront these topics. Not every piece of media should have to. Sometimes breaking away from miserable period piece stereotypes is refreshing. I'm not sure it could have handled that meaningfully given the running time, narrow story focus, and intended audience, anyhow. (But you could perhaps also make a case that family films habitually underestimate younger audiences in this way.)

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

Raymond the firefly I guess is the film's Cajun representation. There's not much to say about it, except perhaps to note that Evangeline is a reference to the heroine of a Longfellow poem of the same name. The poem is an epic romance set during the expulsion of the Acadians from the eastern provinces of Canada and the northernmost reaches of the American colonies (now Maine) by the British in the mid-1700s. Many exiled Acadians gradually migrated south to francophone-friendly Louisiana, settling into the prairies and bayous, where 'Acadian' truncated into the pronunciation 'Cajun'. Evangeline - who is only finally reunited with her love when he’s on his deathbed - has become an emblem of the heartbreak, separation and faithful hope of that cultural history, and there are parishes, statues and other landmarks named after the her throughout Louisiana.

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

Voodoo does have a very historical presence in New Orleans, having arrived both directly from West Africa and by way of the Haitian diaspora (where it would more properly be called Vodou). While I don't think Disney's treatment of it was especially sensitive or serious, it also wasn't the grotesquely off-base sort of thing that media of the past has been known to do. It was largely whittled down to a magical plot component, but it wasn't so fully repurposed that it didn't resemble Voodoo at all either - and that's mostly owing to the characters, because it does appear the writers pulled from history there.

It’s apparently widely held that Dr. Facilier is a Baron Samedi caricature - and likely that's true, in part - but I have the impression he's also influenced by Doctor John. Not the 20th century funk musician, but the antebellum “Voodoo King” of New Orleans. Doctor John (also called Bayou John, Jean La Ficelle, and other aliases) claimed to be a Senegalese prince. He became well known as a potion man and romance-focused prognosticator to people from all corners of society. Though highly celebrated and financially successful at his peak, he seems ultimately remembered as an exploitative villain.

To my recollection, the film sort of gingerly avoids referring to Facilier as a Voodoo practitioner directly (I think he's more generically called a witch doctor in the script?) but it does seem to imply his 'friends on the other side' are a consortium of loa. It's mostly abbreviated into nebulously evil-seeming special FX, glazing over any specificity or dimensionality, but it does also loop back around as a vehicle of moral justice. Loa are all very individualistic and multi-faceted, but they do have reciprocal rules for asking favors of them.

There's also the benevolent counterpart in Mama Odie's character. Her wearing ritual whites has a definite basis in Voodoo/Vodou practice, and her depiction as a fairy godmother-like figure isn't entirely out of step with how a mambo may have been perceived...in a very general sense. They were/are ceremonial leaders and community bastions who people would seek out for help, advice and spiritual guidance. More than just emanating matronly good vibes, though, some have wielded considerable political and economic power.

(Just my opinions here. I've done a lot of reading on the subject for research but I'm no authority with any special insider understanding of Voodoo, and I really shouldn't be relied upon as an arbiter of who has or hasn't done it justice in fiction.)

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

In summary--

Culturally, I think the film is respectably informed but paints a superficially genteel picture. The set pieces are gorgeous, but the story mostly delivers a sort of veneer of New Orleanishness. And as for fashion, well, it’s the 1920s run through a Disney filter. It’s very pretty, but it’s only as proximally accurate as seemed practical.

I don’t know that any of that really matters so much as whether or not it achieved what it intended, though. As a charming yarn and as a tribute to New Orleans and the Jazz age, I think it’s mostly successful. It’s also really beautifully animated!

[talxns]

Academic Articles that Analyze Queer Readings of Batman and Robin (Brudick)

There actually exist multiple!…but the ones I want to introduce right now talk specifically about how the creation of the batfamily was DC’s attempt to dissuade brudick readings. and that it can be argued that DC is still doing the same thing today.

The first article is called “All in the Family: Homophobia and Batman Comics in the 1950s”, published in the International Journal of Comics Art in Fall 2000 by Chris York. It was not available for free online, but I bought a digital copy of the volume it was published in and provided screenshots because it’s been 24 years and I hate the fact that academics are behind paywalls so I’m sharing.

This article was actually infamous because DC refused to grant permission for the use of their panels in this article.

Click for better quality.

Notable Quotes:

“National [Periodical Publications]’s biggest step, however, was the introduction of other members of the Bat-family, which would give them permanent female counterparts and solidify their heterosexual status.”

“It is clear that, although Batman and Robin remain partners, their interests are no longer as the Dynamic Duo, but as a Bat-family.”

“Taking the focus of the comic away from Batman and Robin was exactly what these superfluous characters were designed to do.”

The second article, published in the Iowa Journal of Cultural Studies in 2005, is called "Domesticity, Homosociality, and Male Power in Superhero Comics of the 1950s" by Mark Best.

Good news! This article is available online for free and it’s a great read.

Notable Quotes:

“In contrast to the Marvel family, however, the Batman and Superman families were modeled more after the familial relations of the nuclear family and the gender expectations of the domestic ideology.”

“One way the genre attempted to contain any “subversive” potential, including the possibility of homosexual readings of the comics, was through the narrative device of the “super­ hero family.””

Here is more academic reading with the themes of Batman and homophobia, written in 1991. This article is referenced in the former piece.

In summary:

(lest we forget) Batman has had queer readings since its inception, specifically between Bruce and Dick.

The creation of the batfamily served to curtail those brudick readings

It seems pretty obvious that the same attempts are STILL being made by DC, now with the exaggerated push for explicit familial titles like “father” and “son”. And are still working if you see any discourse online from fans who strictly oppose brudick on the basis of their “father/son” relationship (which seems to me a more modern emphasis compared to in the past, maybe i’ll make a different post about that later.) They are unknowingly parroting Freddy Wertham’s concerns and eating up DC’s new strategy of distancing Bruce and Dick, just under an accusation harder to argue against nowadays. It’s gauche to criticize queerness nowadays, but consider it incest and suddenly it’s acceptable to bash again.

I just find it incredibly fascinating that brudick had been discussed and analyzed in multiple academic articles! And reading some comments I saw lately of people exclaiming “I can’t believe Brudick is this popular!/Who on earth is shipping Brudick!?!” made me sigh and really want to pull these out. Brudick has been a thing before all of us were born. DC’s propaganda/internet purity culture has been doing too good of a job lately. We have to remember our roots.

[magicdustsworld]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧'𝐬

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Returning home via a road trip sounded good until your car had to run out of gas. With little choices and a lot of compromises, you and your boyfriend decided to crash in a cheap motel for one night. It wasn't your fault that things got a little heated. No one will know, right? Right?

Tropes: Explicit smut, not an established relationship

Warnings: Profanity, fingering, nipple play, protected sex (not b/w main leads), voyeurism, masturbation, ejaculation, nonconsensual videography, implications of blackmail, modern AU, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

Event: my work for @/levievent under the prompt of day 2 - voyeurism.

A/N: Will be posting on Ao3 soon + I only have two hours before I actually have to wake up for school hjshjs bye gotta go sleep! Hope you enjoy <3

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

Five? Six? Or has it been Seven?

The humid breeze wisped through your hair as your boyfriend drove down the highway. You perched your elbow over the window ledge, face nestled into your palm as you absentmindedly drummed your fingers over your cheekbone. You checked your watch – 16:27. Time seemed to crawl, dragging itself and so did it drag your irritation which ascended like a straight line graph. The scowl played on your lips and you didn’t bother hiding it from your partner. Least interested. Why should you even do that in the first place? He was the reason for it, after all.

The car revved through the forlorn road, occasionally you’d get a glimpse of a shepherd or two as they returned to their homes with their flock of sheep. Given, the sun was setting down, coating the very grasslands and farms with its hues, the mild heat burnt your skin yet it wasn’t anything too sharp. Rather it was proving to be your solace from the palpable tension strewing in the vehicle.

“Just an hour more,” His voice reached your ears over the buzzing of the radio. “We’ll reach there before you know it.”

You merely hummed at that, keeping your attention strictly on the sprawling grasslands that stretched miles over the horizon.

However, your lack of response caused him to let out a frustrated groan, “How long are you going to keep up that bitchy attitude?”

“As long as I want.”

Obviously, he didn’t take that kindly-vexation flaring in his veins. “For Fuck’s sake,” He cursed. “What are you even so god damn upset about? I said we’ll be in Paradis soon enough.”

“I don’t know, Eren.” You snapped back. “Maybe it’s because we would’ve been in Paradis by now if you weren’t fucking reckless.”

“Me? I was reckless?” He scoffed, voice dripping with disdain. “We had to start off an hour late because of you and now you have the fucking audacity to put the fucking blame on me?”

“You didn’t have to breach the speed limit for that. Was it fun to get stuck in the station for two hours? And a ticket on top of that?” You rolled your eyes. “Buy one get one free, how delightful!”

“That’d only be a case of five minutes if the officers weren’t-”

“Don’t you dare start with your speech on our miserable government now, it pisses me off.”

Green eyes blazed with fury as he glared at you and you glared back with an equal fervour. The staring contest only served to heighten the chasm of agitation that dripped from you both. Until, both of you broke it off with a derisive huff-turning your individual attentions away from each other.

Spending a week in Marley with your boyfriend had been lucrative. Considering you were able to catch up with a few of your friends during the, albeit short vacation had you more jubilant than ever until... this day. Returning to Paradis via a road trip sounded good, exciting even, until it was put to practice. With each atrocious situations both of you found yourself in since the break of dawn, only made this journey unbearable.

Ten minutes further into the drive, the revving of the car engine was the only sound that cut through the cold war; until that happened to be a distant memory. The vehicle slowed down gradually, friction and the coarse road causing it to sputter and eventually come to halt on the desolate road.

You blinked. So did Eren. A second passed in silence until he spoke.

“Out of gas.”

A smile stretched on your lips, “Perfect.”

.

Amidst the darkened night sky, the neon red name of the motel stood out – The Ackerman’s.

After the car had ran out of gas, both of you had to walk three kilometres in the highway until reaching a site where at least civilized humans resided. You and Eren for the first time today, could agree that being stranded in the middle of nowhere would be more precarious than it showed itself to be. Besides, both of you had taken the highway which crossed the farmlands. Hardly any car would drive by that can offer both of you a lift and asking help from the locals was out of the question. Neither of you were psychics to know who might harbour ill intentions and who wouldn’t. Left with little options, a quick google search had you aware of a cheap motel only kilometres away. With a three point five star rating, it seemed to be a decent place to crash in for just a night.

Entering the motel, you were greeted with a small lobby comprising of a reception desk, a staircase which presumably was for the rooms above, and a door which had a hanging sign of staff only. The carpet underneath your boots appeared thin and frayed on the edges. Desk made of cheap laminate, an old computer rested on it with a file and a few pen stocked in a holder. Although, an air of loneliness surrounded the area, you couldn’t help but find how all of it was unbelievably clean.

“No one’s here?” Eren questioned, walking over to the reception desk – eyes searching for any semblance of life.

You sighed, stretching your arms and twisting your torso to get rid of all the pent up tension. “Seems so.”

“Seems not.”

On cue, a grave voice reached your ears. Rotating on your heels, you encountered him—a man who appeared a few years older. Dark hair styled in an undercut with bangs cascading over his forehead, sharp features and a poker look marked his mien. He held a teacup, quite literally on his fingertips, eyes lingering on you for a second before he strolled over to the reception.

The brief moment when he side past you, had you keenly aware of two facts. First, he’s shorter than an average man. Second, he’s hotter than an average man.

He plopped himself on the chair across the desk, keeping his tea cup down. Turning on the computer, he asked, “Room for two?”

“Room for two.” Eren answered.

He kept his eyes on the screen, the clicks of the mouse reverberating. “Night or hours?”

Eren blinked. “What?”

“Charges.” He clarified. “Should I charge you by a night or hour?”

“What’s the difference?”

“15 dollars for an hour each and 150 for a night.”

You could see how Eren’s lips twisted into a frown as if both the prices hurt his soul on a personal level. After a moment of contemplation, he answered, “One night.”

The man nodded, continuing the process of registration. After a five minute delay which consisted of filling in details such as name, phone number and asking for ID, Eren received the key. Opening a file, he pointed to the bottom right corner, “Sign it.” Eren complied without much of a thought. After he was done, the man’s eyes flickered to you. “You too.”

Therefore, you complied too.

.

The room was far from ideal.

A makeshift double bed with a nightstand, two chairs for lounging, a box TV, and an attached bathroom which you didn’t bother to check. The walls were dull yet a flair of lime scented disinfectant lingered in the air proving the room to have been recently cleaned. Honestly, with the amount the man down the reception was charging, this was literally the bare minimum. Or maybe not.

“I should’ve asked him if he had any spare gas.” Eren grumbled, pushing your bags to one corner of the room.

“Tomorrow you can,” You muttered, taking off your socks as you hummed the music of a distant song softly. Not letting yourself ponder on the negativities as much, you laid down on the bed. Enough had happened today, you didn’t need a reminder or to know any more what ifs of the situation. A sign of utter relief left your lips as soon as your body made contact with the sheets. Achieving one night’s peace in this atrocity is more than enough.

Eren, however, had other plans in mind.

Like you, he made himself comfortable on the bed as well.

“Did that bitch finally get off your shoulders?”

That caused a twist of your lips, “Nope, she’s still here.”

“Sure.” His deep voice rang in your ears and you were painfully aware of your proximity. “Wonder how she’s going to get off then?”

“Well, I don’t know,” You mused, turning your body towards him. His turquoise eyes sparkled with an underlying idea for the situation. An idea you loved. A ghost of a smirk curved on the corner of his lips and you didn’t deter from trailing your well-manicured nail down his chiselled jaw. “You tell me.”

The suggestiveness of the act didn’t elude him.

A second later, both of you were locking lips.

.

Levi hated his job.

No, he wasn’t a god damn receptionist. He was the owner of this motel – a legacy or more like a burden passed to him by his only, late relative, Kenny. And shitty Kenny had some fucked up fantasies swivelling in his head and that’s why he just happened to put up CCTV in the rooms. That was enough for him to lose any sort of respect he harboured for the man until he the reasons for his relatives depravity was laid bare before him.

The story goes like this:

Apparently, his uncle had some pals from the secret police department of Paradis and those fuckers were tracking some hefty politician who went by the name of Rod Reiss. The latter was responsible for smuggling armament and carbines to Marley – the information to the police forces by one of the members of his smuggle party. The catch? Arresting Rod wasn’t a child’s play. From the vague news, the police were sure of one thing – the deals happened in low and cheap motels like these. Hence, to catch the bastard red handed, the forces reached out to Kenny who was the, then owner, of this motel. Kenny was more than ready to get his hands dirty as if he got a thrill out of expeditions such. Ensuing miniscule cameras in the few rooms had done the job. Of course, Rod was arrested. Of course, Kenny spat on his face.

Of course, Levi was annoyed to hell when he first encountered footages he didn’t wish to encounter.

Nevertheless, that tale had unfolded long ago and Kenny hadn’t got rid of the cameras. As for Levi, he was least bothered to what happened in the rooms. Therefore, he didn’t deactivate them either.

Never will the devices prove useful to Levi. Or so he thought.

Barely dressed in a pair of black lingerie, the thin material did little to contain your perky breasts and your hardened nipples poked the fabric as Eren palmed you through your underwear. You breathily moaned while his mouth was pressed on yours in a heated kiss.

Levi’s fingers twinged ever so slightly as he watched the open pornopraphy on his personal computer screen. In the privacy of his room, he wasn’t doing very good breaching his customer’s privacy. Well, he could care less about that. In his defence, he couldn’t help his cock from straining in his briefs when the straps of your bra slid down your shoulders revealing a tantalizing pair of tits. Throat began to dry up as soon as your boyfriend pulled down you’re the last garment on your body.

Slick ran down your pussy, and Eren wasted no second in plunging two of his fingers inside your soaking cunt. Your back arched almost involuntarily, the need to feel any sort of friction increasing by second. He curled his digits inside you, velvet walls clamping at the intruder and the lubrication only made it easier for him to twist and toy with your needy cunt.

It was as if Levi’s body had a mind on its own as the next event unfolded. Spreading his legs wide, he reached down to grasp the painful bulge. That provided little relief. He bet you tasted just as much intoxicating akin to the whiff of your perfume he caught – the first thing he noticed about you.

Eren bend down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue on the areolas while he fondled with the other tit. His touch igniting a hoard of sensations on your body as your toes curled with your head thrown back. He rubbed circles over your clit, the ridges of his knuckled brushed against your pussy lips making it almost impossible for you to keep your voice low.

Shit! Unbuckling his belt, Levi pulled down his briefs – freeing his cock from cage. He grasped it by the base, blood rushing in the veins pulsated against the creases of his palm. “Ah- fuck!” He cursed under his breath, already feeling the precum ooze from his tip.

A sinfully loud whine left your mouth as Eren retracted his finger from your dripping folds. You buckled your hips, trying to press your legs together for the just any amount of touch but he managed to keep your legs spread wide for him.

“Patience baby,” Eren smirked, discarding his briefs as he pushed you further on the bed. Grabbing a condom from his trousers, he tore it open with his teeth before putting it over his length. He spat into his hands, pumping his entire length a few times before positioning himself on your entrance, “Ready baby?”

You nodded and he shoved himself inside you.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Levi cursed out loud, stroking his entire length with an intensity and fervour even unseen by him. The hormones flowed in his veins ceremoniously and violent, a sheen of sweat was forming over his forehead, some dripping to his cheeks from his bangs. His mouth was wide open as he watched the erotegenic display between you and your boyfriend. His swollen cock rested against his hand which was busy in providing it with its much needed gratification. He could hear your wanton moans from his earphones; each moan of yours incited a groan from him.

Your legs quivered as Eren placed your limbs over his shoulders, causing him to reach deeper inside your cavern. His tip rubbed against your g-spot and you rolled your eyes back, the orgasm building up with each of his heavenly thrusts as he swayed your body like a sex doll. Your perky breasts jostled with each thrust of his hips, sweat glistening over the skin while he continued to grind his hips against yours. Quite literally. He wasn’t even pulling out at one point just setting a pace to create a narrow friction and he continued to sputter absolute filth down your ears.

The live porn only coaxed Levi into building his orgasm as he stroked his cock quicker than the last time. Vehemently, he circled his thumb over the swollen tip – almost crying out loud at the sudden increase of pleasure shooting in his abdomens. He gritted his teeth while he watched just how you were digging your nails on Eren’s back, chanting his name like a mantra. You were just being fucked stupid on screen and he was rendering himself stupid while he fist fucked his shaft.

Eren reached down to pinch your enlarged clit and that was all it took – you yelled his name, so loud so clear that someone can just hear you if they listen close enough. The pleasure washed over you like a tide while you squeezed your eyes shut letting the orgasm wear off. Eren continued to grind into you following suit as he burst his seed inside the sheath before pulling out of you.

As for Levi, he was sure he could hear your shriek down to his room even without the headphones. He threw his head back, eyes squinting shut as he felt himself reaching his climax – coating his fingers with his hot release. From the ear piece he could hear the muffled conversations and ragged breathing between you and your boy toy. After giving himself a minute of rest, he detached the cord of his computer from the point. Looking down at the mess he created, a disgustful scowl made itself etch on his mien.

He clicked his tongue, “Fuck! I am filthy.”

.

Fortunately, Eren was able to get some spare gas from the man in the reception. It may only be a trick of mind but did the latter rest his eyes on you more than a second longer?

Nevertheless, you reached home safely.

.

Six days later, you received a parcel.

A small brown cardboard box, precisely taped and packed when it reached your door. Unknown sender. You were contemplating that if you had received someone else’s parcel. However, curiosity got the best of you and opening the package, you were greeted with a black pendrive.

Plugging it in your laptop, you clicked the only video file it had.

One minute in the said video and your blood ran cold.

Two minutes in the said video and you were hysterically crying.

Completed with the said video, a text popped up.

Thank you for spending one night at the Ackerman’s.

See you soon.

[beemovieerotica]

trying to find like 1 buddhist temple near me to go to and braved reddit to find commentary on different sects and it's such a cesspool of both completely unaware hypocrisy and "all religion bad" shit.

the way americans talk about modern buddhism is like "it's such a cult...they require membership dues...and they get political sometimes...and the leaders are really charismatic speakers" as if. as if every community center doesn't have rent to pay. and makes commentary on society at large. and the people they choose to speak are probably good speakers. every christian church in america also does all these things. like if these are the requirements for a cult then every religion also does this and so of course the other half of the reddit comments go "and THIS is why all religions are cults!!"

I feel like I have a pretty good radar for cult behavior after matrix bullet dodging at least 2 in college and these people online are specifically talking about the sect my grandparents & extended family are in. and it's weird because the complaints are primarily philosophical in nature, like "they communicate with the spirit realm!!" and idk how to emphasize to people that it doesn't strictly matter how weird you think a belief system is, that's not what makes something a cult. it's whether or not the cult subsumes the person's life, isolates them from non-participants, forces an emotional dependency, deifies and makes unimpeachable a still-living leader, and/or requires an ever-escalating financial stake. the average evangelical church ticks off most boxes in this list, the temples they're talking about don't do any of these things, they have esoteric takes that at best will get an eyebrow raise in conversation.

like it's not terribly surprising that american ex-christians are put off by the idea of people connecting with their ancestors and deceased loved ones because of its contradiction with both atheism and the christian afterlife - and I wouldn't lump it in with spirit medium grifters since people are literally not being paid for this service. it's just really odd sifting through all of the commentary because I absolutely agree that any religious group can turn into a cult, I don't think buddhism is immune to that at all, I don't think any belief system is at its core immune to becoming an isolating force in someone's life - but it's just wild seeing these sects being but through a Good Religion purity test that no christian church would pass just based on the surface level strangeness of their beliefs versus the actual identifiers of what a cult looks like.

but anyway that's a long tangent. the temple that I'm looking at is not part of that sect but a different one, it's the only one within reasonable driving distance with an up-to-date calendar of events and responsive staff, and I'm feeling very cunty right now and I'm seeing that is has had concerns raised about it in the past of being "too political" "too fast-growing" "too aggressive in recruiting" and I simply love placing myself in circumstances and then telling everyone about the drama I find. that is worth jotting down. I'm going to record all my experiences and report back, and if I do end up in a cult, y'all will be the first to know - and if it's an unremarkable place with a normal staff, you will also know. I would preemptively rate my cult susceptibility a 3 out of 10 - but looking at this temple I'm going to say it's a 2 out of 10 because everyone there is white and I'm put off by overly-enthusiastic white people.

[starlight-brainrot]

Genshin - Alhaitham x idol!Reader

Tags: fluff, modern AU, gn reader, probably ooc Alhaitham, reader is sort of idol? they write and perform music and are popular lolol

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1064

-

Alhaitham:

The two of you meet through a shared class- you, the shining star that everyone crowds around, and him, the unapproachable figure of perfection.

When your professor assigns your class its large project for the semester, she takes pity on you, and pairs you with Alhaitham. You’re less likely to be bothered and distracted by your group partner this way.

You shyly introduce yourself to Alhaitham, who merely hums in acknowledgement, before muttering that the two of you should meet later in the library for your project.

You quickly exchange numbers before heading your separate ways after class, your heart thudding in your chest as you do so

You’ve always thought that Alhaitham was cute, sure… but it was moreso just refreshing that he didn’t seem to care about who you were.

Alhaitham meanwhile, swears that something about you seems more familiar than just seeing you around in class.

It isn’t until he enters his shared apartment that it hits him.

Or rather, it’s Kaveh blasting songs of yours that causes him to recognize, “Oh, this is the artist Kaveh obsesses over.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t seem all that bad in person. At the very least, it looked like you’d do your share of the project instead of expecting him to complete it all.

Alhaitham tells Kaveh to turn his music down- no, he doesn’t care if it’s for his roommate’s ‘inspiration’, and mentally prepares himself for his meeting with you later.

For once, Alhaitham feels something akin to nervousness as he walks to your university’s library.

Why was that? Was he nervous to meet with you?

It was already getting dark outside when the two of you meet in a forgotten corner of the library.

“Shall we begin?” You softly smile at him before pulling out your laptop and study materials.

The two of you make good time, already knocking out a good chunk of work

And in the absence of the presence of others, you’re… different.

Less bubbly, and more… peaceful.

A touch nerdy too. Alhaitham finds out you’re a bookworm too

The two of you make light conversation. It’s pleasant and leaves both you and Alhaitham with a warm feeling in your chests.

By the end of your meetup, Alhaitham walks you to your car before leaving to find his.

These meetups continue over the next few months, but things gradually change

Meetings are no longer strictly at the library- hell, they’re not even strictly about the project either.

The park, cafes, bookstores, fast food restaurants- you name it, the two of you have been there.

Alhaitham starts listening to your music.

It started as a curiosity, eager to learn more about you and your passions

When asked about it by Kaveh, he waves him off, lying that it’s because he wants to know what’s so good about the music his roommate’s constantly blasting

Liar.

He enjoys your voice- maybe he strays towards your more calming tracks than the ones Kaveh listens to, but there’s an undeniable charm to it he cannot ignore.

The man is in deep, deep denial.

You, meanwhile, find yourself writing more and more love songs as time goes on.

You feel like you’re in high school again, lovesick over your first crush.

You didn’t expect Alhaitham to crash into your life like this, but he’s quickly nestled his way into your heart

You do your best to hide it, not wanting to ruin his perception of you, but you let your passions run wild with your music.

Even after your semester nears its end and the two of you pass your project with flying colors, the meetings don’t stop.

Though Alhaitham starts to have suspicions that his feelings (he hardly believes he’s even admitting that to himself) maybe, just maybe are reciprocated, after all.

He’s seen your newer songs, and at the vague mention of his looks in one of them, he feels confident enough to take action.

It’s the day after finals, and Alhaitham cryptically texted you to meet him at a nearby restaurant to celebrate passing your classes.

You’re a bit confused on the location, considering neither of you have ever met up anywhere so… formal and fancy, but you shrug and find something fitting to wear for the occasion.

You secretly hope that it’s something he’ll like, then shake your head. It’s best that you head out- you don’t want to be late.

To your surprise, you find him there early, fidgeting with his phone. He looks good.

Approaching, you greet him cheerfully, only for Alhaitham to look at you with wide eyes before averting them, red dusting his cheeks.

Weird.

Dinner is great, with even lovelier company, but you can’t deny there’s a bit of tension between the two of you.

“Alhaitham,” you begin. “Is something wrong?”

That seems to snap him out of his thoughts

His hands feel clammy and his heart beats wildly in its cage as he mentally prepares himself for what he’s about to say.

“y/n. I enjoy your company a lot, more than a friend should.” At seeing your widened eyes, he adds, “and I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels that way.”

The cocky bastard smirks at you as you struggle to answer (little do you know, every second that ticks by, the more he feels like he’s going to explode.)

“H-how…? How did you know?” Is all you manage to say.

He peers at you, then recites, “silver hair, jade eyes- I’m not sure who else that’d describe, really.”

You stare at him, mouth gaping, then-

“Wait, you listen to my music?”

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Suddenly, Alhaitham seems to find that the ceiling tiles are very interesting to look at, avoiding your gaze.

It’s adorable, really.

You were excited and flattered, albeit a little embarrassed.

“Well…” he begins.

“I didn’t know the almighty Alhaitham listened to *my* music! I’m truly honored.” you tease.

His face grows redder, but he peers at you with an adorable pout

“Well, do you deny it?”

“I meant what I wrote, Haitham… your feelings are more than reciprocated.” you end with a shy smile.

Imagine Kaveh’s look of complete and utter betrayal when he finds out the news that the two of you are dating.

“You knew y/n AND NEVER TOLD ME???” he whines.

Alhaitham tunes him out as Kaveh goes on and on.

[blueiight]

can i ask your thoughts on the fandom’s heavy focus on louis as an object of desire? it sometimes feels to me like people are more interested in other characters reacting to louis than they are in louis himself. i know the “helen of troy” stuff is a joke but it genuinely seems like he’s often rendered oddly passive in his desirability, like we’re looking at him through the eyes of the other characters even though it’s his story (to be clear: in the fandom, not the actual show). or am i being uncharitable? either way, you always have interesting things to say about fandom reception.

i think the focus of louis as an object of desire arose largely in response to a lot of racially-charged nonsense about show louis, namely, where a loud minority of fans tried to deny the abuse and horror of season 1 and frame louis as the primary antagonist/abuser of his own story. which in of itself had the potential to go somewhere, especially considering the feminized role louis occupies in parts of season 1. unfortunately its spiraled off into its own dead end at this point to where now people, a year and a half removed from the release of s1, can box louis's character arc into this tale of getting all the hot boys to look her way. when this is a horror and tragedy series. romance is part of that, but is a piece of the full picture. classic romance is very much horror tbh but thats just me

if we're discussing the show strictly, majority of louis's relationships are antagonistic. even with his lovers, they love him as much as they seek to control him. 'his love is a small box that he keeps you in', trailer louis saying 'i knew who i was without those pieces [of myself?]' . so on and so forth. the first three episodes of season 1 are about louis's struggle to maintain a link with his mortal community, in the midst of increasing racist tensions against the city leaders, all as he struggles to come to terms with his existence as a vampire and how his relationship to lestat fits in relation to all these pieces of himself. doubly so, there is also the nature of the second interview in present time, and the sort of antagonism between daniel + louis as louis eventually pushes daniel into burning the old tape. the latter half of season 1, episodes 4-7 is squarely about the triad of lestat, louis, and claudia, how lestat increasingly tightens his hold over them both, claudia breaking them free of it, and louis's response to such. doubly so, daniel becomes more hostile the less he knows, and the more louis's composed 'master of his instincts' personage collapses to show the broken man thats underneath. armand comes in at the end bc the interview has reached a breaking point once more [as it did in the 1970s]. i know, im looking too hard into the meme, but so much of where louis errs, where his memory falters, where history is completely revised, has to do with the question of claudia. even book interview foundationally was about this grief, though not nearly with the level of depth+ gravity the show has added to the story.

where focusing on louis as an 'object of desire' most impedes analysis has to do with claudia as well, bc if u see louis as that solely, then what is claudia to u if not a 'child interfering in [louis's] romantic affairs'? why are people already seeking to write claudia off as a wayward child unduly 'taking out her anger on louis', when it was louis at the end of season 1 who strangled her against the wall and refused to let her burn lestat? when its louis in the trailer thats throwing claudia's words from season 1 back at her, evading her questions in the cafe? when claudia is having to dress as a baby doll and advertise with a sandwich board for a theater + a coven-master that all want her dead?

i think this is by nature of the fact that iwtv is canonly gay and isnt afraid of showing that, and modern fandom is mainly interested in romance. claudia's relationship to louis is secondary, if not tertiary, to all 'camps' of this tiny tiny fandom bc she is clearly established in s1 as not being a viable romantic option for louis, despite claudia's perspective and her story taking up the second half of the first season, and will continue to be important in the second season. the 'helen of troy' fixation on his desirability in relation to romantically viable vampires [or even men] seems to be another means by which fans can ignore this part of the story, just as the mutual abuse nonsense about louis being clarence thomas the third self hating black man who stole lestat's lunchables and is 'just as bad as the rest' drowned out and continues to drown out any other conversation for the past year and a half. it is very difficult to have conversations on this character precisely bc of this state of fandom, where many people seek to crack the whip over a fictional character for not being mother teresa and having a complex response to trauma, then instead of discussing that, some seek to fixate on the fact that mother teresa can be sexy, actually. when thats not the point. why is modern louis so full of grief and all but suicidal in dubai, if not for the fact that claudia is permanently dead, he still lives, he regrets something, and wants to find the truth under it all? the jokes are cute and all, but lets put our thinking caps on.

[raptorladylover6969]

My take/theories on Raptor Lady/The Handler’s design and how it’s significant to her overall character‼️

JWCT SPOILERS AHEAD

So I’ve mentioned this before in a comment section, but I wanted to go more in depth. For a while now, I’ve been pondering about the certain design choices of The Handler, and whats the significance behind her wide eyes, and blank expressionless face, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it actually plays a huge role in her personality, and overall character.

First off, the uncanniness of her design. She always has a blank emotionless expression on her face, and shows little to no emotion unless its related to her Raptors. So far the only emotions we’ve seen from her are: frustration (the Nublar 5 getting away from her), satisfaction (seeing her raptors kill someone, or when she realized the campers were in the warehouse with her) and empathy (seeing her raptors injured and unable to fight). Besides this, she keeps a blank expression on most of the time. Her wide eyes and no-eyebrows add to the blankness of her face because all the viewer is focusing on when they see her are her eyes.

Her personality. The way she wants people to perceive her is for them to be intimidated by her, and its not just people who find her intimidating, its the dinosaurs too. In the final episode, the scene inside of the warehouse, you see the dinosaurs in the crates going haywire, roaring and growling and stomping until The Handler walks in. The dinosaurs suddenly go quiet, and lower their heads, avoiding any to all eye contact with her. This is kind of a big deal considering even the giant carnivores also went quiet. She has all these dinosaurs cowering before her. That look she gave Cabrera clearly is her go to strategy of intimidation because of the way he was stuttering the second she turned her head to look at him.

We can also compare and make connections to this through basic science. Thousands of years ago, we looked nothing like our ancestors, our appearance is dramatically different to that of the early humans, especially our faces. and human expression. As a species, we communicate socially through our facial expressions to display what emotions we feel. Our ancestors didn’t have that. If you look at the skulls of early humans, you’ll see that humans of that time had eyebrow ridges that protrude more outwards than modern humans. The main significance of this was for the humans to look more aggressive and intimidate other humans and animals. Sound familiar??? Our ancestors only expressions were blank.

The main question here is “How does any of this information involve The Handler???” Well, theres been theories going around that she might be part raptor, because of her demeanour and behaviour. I don’t think thats the case. I think she isn’t trying to seem like a raptor, rather, she’s trying to display the same mannerisms as ancient humans.

Think about it. The whole intimidation factor in ancient humans I mentioned earlier? The lack of eyebrows is strictly for the purpose of making her eyes more bigger and expression more blank so she is able to display more fear into people (and animals apparently) just like ancient humans. The way she chases down our beloved Camp Fam is the same exact way our ancestors hunted their prey. Relentlessly, chasing and chasing until she’s got them cornered/tired. Her domination of the raptors, the same way our ancestors dominated the wolves we have domesticated. (The fact raptors are also compared to wolves in this franchise) She uses intimidation, and her smarts to make her way to the top of the “food chain”, eventually conquering the dinosaurs (I.E them being intimidated the second she walks into a room)

And what adds to this is how exactly uncanny humans were as a species. Our tall lanky slim bodies and endurance + determination made us the ultimate apex predator in the history of earth. By using the art of uncanniness, humans were able to rise above. Just like with The Handler who uses her uncanny factors to conquer.

Don’t get me wrong the theory of her being part raptor is cool, but the idea/concept of her entire personality being that of an ancient human is much much much more scarier if you look at it through the bigger picture. But anyway, what are your thoughts on this?

[witchofthesouls]

Hey! I saw an earlier post you had about the boys in the grocery store and it got me wondering about how they would react to hunting. I’m a hunter, have been all my life. I hunt deer, boars, ducks, coyotes, turkeys, quails, pheasants, wild Burmese pythons, and I fish locally too (strictly a vermin exterminator and food hunter, I find sports hunting to be distasteful and I strictly use a bow and arrow, no traps or guns as I take issues with those too). I can picture the absolute horror of the TFP or Lost Light bots seeing their/a human skinning and processing an animal that they just hunted for food, they see the modern convinces that are grocery stores so it’s easy to forget where human food actually comes from 😂

Weirdly enough, IDW/MTMTE does have Cybertronian edibles like cesium salami and rust sticks.

But then again, there's a big percentage of the crew members who were produced by the war, so there's a great chance that they didn't get a crash course on things that were deemed "unnecessary," like Cybertronian cuisine and fauna to forage and hunt.

TFP Cybertronians, on the other hand, have Questions.

Get ready to pull up diagrams, manuals, videos, and live demonstrations via YouTube or your own hands because they got the curiosity of two-year-old with the capacity to keep you in their palm for no escape.

Ratchet absolutely hates it. It's too messy and squishy and completely unalike the organized and relatively clean method of converting crystals to fuel. Horrified over the mysteries of hotdogs and how everything can and will kill humans without specific preparations to negate the toxins. Ratchet is boggled over spice challenges and how the hell humanity hadn't died in its infancy over culinary explorations. Someone told him to look up Hákarl.

He takes great displeasure when the kids sass him over Cybertronians eating their own blood. Different. Absolutely different. He clucks over the base kitchen and is not above making things disappear. He argues with June and Agent Fowler over the groceries and fast food bags. Ratchet's crunchy.

Bulkhead actually enjoys fishing. He's more catch and release rather than for keeping and gutting. He likes soaking up the heat of the sun, the sound of running water, birdsong, and insects buzzing, the gear setup and picking out the right lure and bait. It's a different kind of downtime, but it's nice. All he's missing is engex, but he's able to throw a line farther out than anyone else and has the capability to detect motion far greater than an average human. He still wants an engex cube.

Arcee has mixed feelings. She enjoys hunting. Patience, tracking, stealth, and the sense of accomplishment with a clean catch. She likes less the process of handling carcasses, but really hates waste anything that could have been useful. Meat, leather, tools, jewelry, and raw ingredients that could be sold or traded. Arcee just doesn't like sharing something with Airachnid's methods.

Bumblebee's a scout. People expected him to like foraging or the wilds. He prefers domesticated stock. In particular, beekeeping. To him, it represents a more equivalent partnership: he provides accessible resources and safe quarters and the bees yield honey, comb, and wax in return. If the hive don't like him or the area, then they can leave elsewhere.

Optimus is deeply fascinated by how Earth's biodiversity is so immense and how ecosystems are so diverse and complex, yet so fragile. He quietly wishes for Alpha Trion's presence because Optimus is seeing familiar similarities of Cybertronian long gone biomes: wetlands, woodlands, and reefs. The Sea of Rust once was a massive ocean of mineral-laden Energon. It has long since disappeared by the consensus of heavy, unregulated industrialization, but if Earth has the water cycle, ocean currents and belts, and complex system of thermoregulation that replenishes itself, then Cybertron had to have something similar at one point, no?

[ardorwritesfanfic]

Dr. Stone x Reader - Boyband AU!

Genre: Fluff, just general headcanons lol. Modern!AU, Band!AU

Featuring: The Five Wise Generals!

A/N: Hey y’all! It’s been a really long time! I’ve had this AU idea in my head for a while now and I thought it was time to share it with y’all! Enjoy!

Senku Ishigami

Senku was kind of blackmailed into the band lol

When the band was still new, he worked behind the scenes.

Unfortunately, Chrome decided to post a video of Senku singing to himself while working on his latest science project

The video went viral, and every record company that wanted the band wanted Senku as a main member.

He joined with the idea that he MIGHT be able to hitch a ride into space one day.

In the early stages of your relationship, Senku is not very affectionate.

He tends to show his affection towards you in small ways

When you attend the band’s concerts, he immediately finds you in the crowd.

Once he finds you, he’ll sing to you.

He engages with the rest of the crowd, so that it’s not obvious that he’s focusing only on you. But his gaze always finds its way back to you.

When he’s recording songs, or rehearsing for concerts, he demands you come along.

He usually will say it’s because it’s the only way he can stand the process, really he just wants to impress you~

On social media, he probably won’t post pictures of you two outright.

However, he will post sneaky hand holding pictures where you can’t see either of your faces.

In interviews, he’ll say that he’s taken, but won’t mention who you are directly unless you want him too.

Senku can get pretty rowdy on stage (especially since Ryusui often instigates it), strictly for the purpose of riling up his fans (and you)

He’ll ask you afterwards if he was successful, and if he was, he’ll tease you about it.

Senku also values your private time together, so he’ll definitely take the time to be more vulnerable and affectionate with you after concerts.

He’ll sing softly to you while you drift off to sleep, but if you ask him about it he will completely deny it.

Also, he will bring you on tour with him~

Ryusui Nanami

Ryusui joined the band as soon as Chrome proposed the idea.

“I want it all!” Was his primary reasoning

The fame, the spotlight, and the fans, he wanted all of it.

He provides most “fan-service” in the group, usually including Senku or Chrome in his antics.

He’s the band member that knows that everyone thinks he’s got, and will flaunt it.

However, he make sure to reassure that he only has eyes for you.

You are his treasure, the one thing he desires more than what the band or fame can give him.

Ryusui writes most of the band’s songs alongside Chrome and Gen. Most of them are about you in some way

He’ll serenade you when he finishes a song, and insists that you’re with him while he’s writing

Like Senku, Ryusui brings you everywhere with him.

He’ll bring you to photo shoots, interviews, rehearsals, and on tour.

If you let him, he will 100% show you off.

He’ll bring you up on stage and flirt with you while he performs.

He’ll ask to include you in his photoshoots, and will bring you up at every opportunity in interview.

He’ll post cute date photos of you on his social media too!

He knows that his lifestyle can get overwhelming and tiring, so he makes sure that he’s always there for you.

He’ll often sing you to sleep after a long day, pulling you closer to him as he wonders how he got so lucky to have you in his life.

Chrome

Chrome is the front man of the group, the leader.

The band was his idea, and he put his blood, sweat and tears into it.

He started all of the social media pages, wrote all of their early songs, coordinated all of their outfits, etc.

This band is his baby!

You were the first person he told when the band finally got a contract with a record label.

You also helped him convince (bribe) Senku to join.

Almost all of his songs are dedicated to you

If you can play an instrument, he will 100% ask you to play it in his songs.

He’ll write you cheesy love songs that he will perform on stage if you let him.

He absolutely has to kiss you in some way before performing!

Whether it’s on your hand, cheek, lips, forehead, etc. he must kiss some part of you. It’s his good luck charm

Will sing to you if he spots you in the crowd.

When he does it feels like he’s only performing to you, and the rest of the crowd is just background noise.

He’ll schedule cute lunch dates with you while you’re on tour to local restaurants.

He will absolutely go sightseeing with you in different cities during his downtime!

He will mention you in interview and on social media, but only if you’re comfortable with it.

Chrome typically plays a guitar on stage, which has your lipstick print cheekily placed on it

He will take every opportunity after concerts to snuggle you and decompress, asking if you enjoyed the show (please praise this boy) and humming his songs quietly as you both drift off to sleep.

Gen Asagiri

Gen is the sly and suave member of the group

He only really joined because it was a new way to use his skills as a mentalist

He’s similar to Ryusui in that he knows he’s attractive and uses that to rile up his fans

He likes to have this mysterious air to him, so no one really knows what he’s thinking.

However, this facade crumbles when he’s around you

If he brings you along to band rehearsals or events, he gets very clingy.

He wants to make sure everyone knows that you’re his.

He will tease you with his antics, especially on stage.

He’ll find you in the crowd and smirk as he tries to make you blush.

He will tease you about it afterwards too, just because he knows he can.

He has you preview all of the songs he writes, and he tries to sneak in small details that only you could recognize in them.

If you travel with him on your, he will take you everywhere with him.

If you end up staying home, he’ll send you postcards and love letters describing just how much he misses you.

I like to think that he does a small “magic” segment at shows, and he will make any excuse he can to use you as his assistant.

After shows, he’ll take the time to relax with you.

This can be cuddling, but most of the time he’ll draw a bath in the hotel room for the both of you to enjoy.

He’ll lazily wash your scalp and talk about the highs and lows of the day.

Once your both washed up, he’ll lead you towards the bed, holding you close as you fall asleep.

He will sing you to sleep if you ask him to!

Ukyo Saionji

Ukyo is the “mother hen” of the group.

He is quite a bit older than the rest of the boys, and feels a sense of responsibility for the group

He helps the rest of the band keep their heads on straight during stressful times, and is often the voice of reason.

That being said, he needs someone that will help him relax.

That’s where you come in!

Ukyo will often entrust certain tasks to you, like helping him make sure the band is on schedule, ensuring they’re all in the right costume, etc.

Your presence on tour is basically a requirement, rather than a suggestion.

Ukyo needs you there in order to tolerate the other members antics lol

Since you’re often backstage during shows instead of the crowd, Ukyo will make quick glances towards the backstage area

He’ll do it just to let you know that he’s singing to you.

Ukyo is much more private about your relationship in regards to how much the public knows.

He’s mentioned once or twice that he’s in a relationship in interviews, but that’s pretty much it.

He values your privacy, and wants to keep you to himself.

Ukyo doesn’t write much, but he does mix and produce songs for the band.

He asks you to listen to them, and asks if there should be any changes.

Oftentimes you hear all of the band’s songs before anyone else does.

Ukyo cherishes that process though, it’s one of the few ways he can really share his craft with you.

After concerts, Ukyo is absolutely exhausted, and he looks to you for comfort.

He’ll lay on top of you as you run your fingers through his hair, grumbling about how his ears are still ringing from performing.

This time with you allows his nerves to settle, and allows his mind to prepare to do it all over again in the morning

[lemmetreatya]

Hey Mun! Not sure how many characters you take but can you do headcanons of turn ons and turn offs for Geto Gojo Toji and Nanami? Bless 🙏🏻

wgw1!! idk if this req was actually meant for me or nawt but why tf not!! lool lets get into it!

JJK MEN HEADCANONS: TURN ONS AND OFFS

ft. Geto, Gojo, Toji and Nanami (ft. Megumi)

contents: modern au, strong language, slight glimpses of gaslighting idk

Geto

Turn OFFs:

Dislikes strong smells!! deffo think he’d be one to faux gag if something even vaguely annoyed his senses (he can be so childish at times lol).

doesnt even have to be a bad smell, it could literally be perfume

He refuses to say its sensory overload, which you’d even be able to accustom and understand better, but no he literally just… doesn’t like it

“Eurk! Wha’ the fu’k?!”

Geto loudly makes a display of gaging as the two of you were sat on the train. With a face of surprise, you look at Geto with annoyance.

“Really?! In public?!” You hissed.

The man only held his nose as he sideeyes the lady that just passed him by. Subtly sniffing yourself, you scoff at Geto’s reaction.

“The perfume didn’t even smell that bad. It was kinda nice even.”

Geto disregarded your comment by making even a bigger heaving sound.

“It’s infiltrating my fucking nose, oh my god.

You had to look away with a sigh. He really could be dramatic sometimes.

He gets turned off when a significant other asks for his opinion and does the exact opposite. he says it’s a waste of his ‘sacred wisdom he chose to bestow upon you’

especially if its to make a decision they’ve been pondering on for time. if they do or pick the other option, he feels like his opinion is so bad that in giving the wrong answer, the person chose the right one !!

it gives him a very phat inferiority complex but he wont admit it so anytime he sees it he’s like RedFlagRedFlagRedFlag 😭😭

Turn ONs:

he gets turned on when a significant other plays with his ears.

its kinda weird because he’s very particular about who touches him and its a part of him that normally people would look at in wonder but not go out of their way to ask to touch because he’d probably say no

and in all honesty, he would dsodjsj but if you’re both laid up with each other and you subconsciously do it, he won’t complain

he secretly loves the stimulation of it

With his head laid up in your lap, Geto’s eyes were glued to the screen.

He was so adamant to watch this documentary and you had absolutely no interest or intention in watching it with him. Yet surprisingly, you found yourself rather interested in the topic of discussion and so ended up sitting with him.

Subconsciously, your hand stroked down from the crown of Geto’s head to the shell of his ears, your fingers aimlessly fiddling with the soft flesh.

Geto hadn’t voiced anything about it so you didn’t realise for awhile, but when you noticed it was his ears you were touching, you made a short ‘ooh’ sound before retracting your hand.

“What? What happened?” Geto used his arm to sit up and look back at you, eyes beady as he made sure everything was okay.

You quickly shook your head.

“No, its nothing. I just realised I was touching your ear and I didn’t mean to. Sorry.”

Rolling his eyes, Geto only lowered himself back onto your lap with a huff. He gingerly wormed himself back into a comfortable position as his eyes were already trained back onto the TV.

“I thought it was something serious.” He mumbles.

Oh he loves intelligent conversations — this doesn’t mean the content of the conversation has to be strictly complicated or about something big brained. it could simply be something you’re both passionate about and therefore can talk in great depth about

he loves being able to have bartering points and see different perspectives or discover new possibilities together with someone who knows what they’re talking about!!

Gojo

Turn OFFs:

Excessive swearing

Gojo’s own mouth isn’t the cleanest in the book, but he hates when there’s just too much bad language flying around

In his words: “It disturbs the Holy Spirit in me.”

“And I swear to God! If you ever touch my fucking wife ever again, I promise you I’ll fuck your shit up so bad, you’ll fucking wish you were pissing out your own’s mother’s cunt!”

You were practically on the edge of your seat at the confrontation scene that was going down. The movie had built the climax up so well, you couldn’t believe that this was how it turned out.

However, before you could see what happened next, the TV turned black and you were left with looking at your reflection within the screen.

“Wh—”

You turned round to see Gojo with the remote in his hand as he shook his head in fake solemn conviction.

“It’s just way too much foul language. How are you even watching this?” He sighed.

Leaning up from your seat, you grabbed the remote back from the man.

“Boy, JustGimmeThatShit.” You gave Gojo a stank face before turning the TV back on. Only this time, you lowered the volume.

Big turn off is when people are too much in his business — Which is real contradictory because Gojo’s the King of Tell Me The Drop, but he really believes that he’s superior in the sense that when he knows something, it’s because he rightfully should

Its kinda toxic tho because if you try and pry something out of Gojo because he may well be hiding something, he will vilify you for wanting to know shit from him

Turn ONs:

Kinda the opposite to Geto, but he loves strong smells (but only nice ones)

Use too much detergent in your clothes? Dont worry, Gojos inhaling the scent right tf out of it

New perfume? He notices right away and demands he get to smell all the areas you’ve used it

Cooking something zesty?! Gojo’s first in line to try it out (and sneaks nosefuls directly from the pot throughout the day)

“Gojo!”

Caught red handed, Gojo looked towards you like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes wide as he had the opened pot lid in his hands.

“I saw that!” You pointed.

Dropping the lid and quickly scrambling away from the crime scene, Gojo let out a high pitched cry. Walking over to the abandoned pot with a sigh, you placed the lid back on top to close it.

“We’ve spoken about this.” You say into the air.

You couldn’t see him but you heard the soft sound of pitiful shuffling from somewhere within the vicinity.

“I’m sorry…” You heard whine from a far away place. “It just smelt so good.”

He gets turned on from a good rub session.

It doesn’t even have to lead to sex, but Gojo just loves rubbing up on others and being rubbed on (permitted he likes the person)

Hes got langly arms so hes able to reach all parts of you regardless of your positions

Just being able to snuggle up with each other for hours on end is his thing; to the extent where you have to ask him if he needs to go toilet because he’d rather be busting to go than not suggle

Toji

Turn OFFs:

Things that take too long!!

Hes a very impatient man and wants everything instantly

you sometimes worry about doing things in public with him because his patience is vey minimal

“I’m not waiting any longer, gimme the car keys.”

You were just about getting the last of the items off the shopping list when Toji had popped up in front of you with a very constipated expression.

Sighing, you fling your head back in annoyance.

“I— TJ, just hold on! I only need to get the last of the stuff then we can go. Just queue up in line and by the time it’s our turn I’ll be back with the rest.”

“But I’ve been waiting for too long!”

“And I’ve only been gone for two seconds!” You say with open eyes.

Shrugging, Toji sorts his hands inside your pocket before pulling out the car keys.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m going back to the car.”

You couldn’t even stop him slugging off regarding your hands were full. Looking left and right, you called out to him.

“Wh—So where’s our shopping trolley?!”

Toji shrugs, his back towards you as he made his way towards the exit.

“In line.” He shouts back.

Nagging. This man absolutely hates when people nag him. It’s even more annoying because he will not get shit done on the first listen/ask so sometimes nagging is all you can do

He’ll literally switch off if he thinks you’re nagging him and it’s so jarring when he does because you could be telling him something so crucially important but because he was nagged an hour ago he’s not listening for shit

Turn ONs:

when you automatically co parent with him

now again, yes hes a bit of a lazy guy so any prospects of a potential babysitter guardian for his kids he’ll run at

but its that energy of treating his kids as your own (and no less to your other kids if you have any) that really turns him on

“Alright, ‘Gums, you know how this goes, right?”

The black haired boy nodded, a subtle smile on his face as he met you in the middle to shake hands.

“Of course. Win the match, or at least MVP, and then coerce dad into taking us out for a congratulatory meal.”

With a wide grin, you ruffled Megumi’s hair before patting him on the shoulders.

“That’s my boy. Now go get’em.” Surging him off onto the playing court, you gleamed upwards as you felt Toji come stand behind you.

“What’dyou tell ‘im?” He gruffly asks as he passes you your requested confectionery from the stand.

“Oh, nothing too much.” You grinned. “Just your usual pre-game encouragement!”

turned on by the exposure of flesh in subtle places

hes not talking barely no clothes (which he doesnt mind) or nakedness (which he even more doesnt mind) but when you wear an outfit that is supposed to be modest but theres a lil slip or cut in the cloth that shows just that sliver of innocent skin, hes bearing his teeth in glee

its the prospects that you could be showing a lot more or covering up way less but you choose to go sensible. yet that lil fun side to you still peaks out

Nanami

Turn OFFs:

overworkers

a bit canon yes but he hates when people dont know when to take a break. like my goodness its not everyday work yourself to the bone

hes very serious about holidays and clocking in overtime so the very scent of doing more than you should aggravates him.

“Where are you?”

Nanami’s voice over the receiver sounds plain but you can tell there’s a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Hey Ken, I’m still at work. I’m just packing up now. You outside?” You say as you hold the phone between your ear and shoulders.

“It’s five past.” He grumbles.

Pausing in your tracks, you make a confused face.

“Yeah, and?”

“You should have been packed up ages ago.”

Noticing where he was coming from, you sighed loudly albeit with a smile tinted on your lips.

“I was just catching up with a colleague. Don’t worry, I’ll be right down.”

There was a slight pause, almost like a thought, before he spoke again.

“As long as you weren’t working past your finishing time—”

“Yes, of course! Never would I ever dare to work past clock-out!” You laugh as you make your way out of the office.

hes turned completely off when people have no regard for others

whether that be not tidying up after themselves or not being aware of their surroundings or even deciding to eat something shareable in the presence of others without othering

hes a very considerate man when it comes to these things and he genuinely hates when people are just really selfish with shit

Turn ONs:

Seduction

Seems quite vague because isn’t that how everyone’s caught?!

But no, someone having confidence to seduce him always works. It doesn’t mean he’ll always be receptive to it but simply having the guts to approach him will definitely have him thinking about it at night

As the music played throughout the apartment, you couldn’t help but dance playfully onto Nanami, backing up onto him as he stood rather distracted with the dishes.

“Versace on the floor, Ouuuh! Take it off for me, for me, for me, for me now girl!”

The man kept his head stoically focused on the dishes, trying his best to not engage with your antics.

“Come on, Ken, dance with me!”

You laid your hand out in his direction, beckoning him to your patronage. Nanami shook his head although he had a slight smile on his face.

“I’ve got to finish the dishes.” He excuses.

Leaning forwards to look at him, you lift your hand up to drag a smooth palm down his chest.

“Forget those for a second, handsome. They’ll always be here. Just come dance with me. for a bit.” You said in a sultry voice, you eyes hooded as you bit your bottom lip.

Nanami looks between the dishes and you three times before dutifully succumbing.

Cleanliness!!

Having a clean place, person and home is very important to Nanami! Even more when it comes to his significant other because he aint going down on nobody with glued shut booty flaked cheeks or poor grooming habits

but in general, just being graced with the cleanliness of others is his thing

[dyaz-stories]

who are we to fight the alchemy? || Gojo Satoru x Kagome Higurashi (1)

summary: All Kagome wanted to do was go home, after her friends made her go out to go clubbing. As a result, she had no choice but to go through Shibuya, on Halloween night of all nights.

Sometimes, it only takes one person to change everything.

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, eventual fluff, eventual romance, fix-it fic (kind of), BAMF Kagome Higurashi, Adult Kagome Higurashi

word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is a crossover pairing I've ben obsessed with recently, so here is the first chapter of a story that's all vibes with little plot. I hope you have fun and it can heal other's hearts after all the harm jjk caused all of us!

Also posted on Ao3 and fanfiction.net if you prefer reading on other websites

All Kagome had wanted to do that night was get home. If anything, she was quietly fuming at the thought that she had, again, let Eri, Ayumi and Yuka talk her into going out, only to be met with thorough disappointment and boredom, and she wanted nothing more than to get back to the comfort of her bed.

Upon coming back from the Feudal Era, she had reveled in the feeling of safety, in the fact she no longer had to risk her life or see her friends be gravely injured, in no longer having the weight of the world on her shoulders, in the mundane pleasures of the modern life. Time had gone by since then, though, with the well never letting her through again, and though she had accepted it and moved on, now…

Well. Now, she may or may not be a little… bored.

The modern world had its oddities, too. Though yokai were few and far between, particularly in Tokyo, as the remaining ones preferred the empty forests and mountains, there were creatures roaming the world. They looked somewhat like yokai, but were unintelligent, for the ones she’d seen, strictly malevolent, and, from what she could tell, non-living.

They also instinctively steered clear of her and, as she’d confirmed for herself, they could not resist even the smallest contact with spiritual energy. No need for spiritual arrows, even coming in contact with her was unbearable for the weaker ones. As for the stronger ones, while they also could not withstand her touch, it was still more efficient to use arrows — but not necessary, not in the way it had been with yokai.

She wasn’t sure what these things were. Since becoming a teacher, she’d gotten used to cleaning the high school of them, as they appeared frequently, and discreetly freeing her students of them. After a few years of that, the school had started to feel… purified, with the creatures’ appearance becoming rarer and rarer.

“The atmosphere feels much better in the school, don’t you think, Higurashi?” one of her colleagues had asked her recently. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s gotten much brighter in here, I think. Even the students feel it!”

She’d hummed and smiled, but hadn’t commented on it.

That was one of the more interesting aspects of her life these days. Going clubbing on Halloween night with her high school friends, on the other hand… wasn’t.

She cursed under her breath as she wedged her way through the crowd outside of Shibuya. Maybe she’d have been better off calling a cab, but her small salary as a teacher, paired with the rising cost of life in Tokyo, meant that she’d be feeling the ripple of that for far too long. So, even if just the thought of the sea of human bodies down there exhausted her, she started making her way down, deep into the belly of the station.

She had just reached the top of the stairs to the last level, where she hoped to catch a subway soon enough, when she felt it.

Something was coming down. She lifted her head, only to be, of course, met with nothing but the ceiling. Even without seeing it, she felt its power extending, caging the whole building, and she felt it sealing as it reached the floor. Her breath caught painfully in her throat, heartbeat racing as she glanced around, trying to understand what was happening.

“Yeah, so I told him— Can you hear me? Hey, do you— Hello? Shit, my call cut off,” a young man muttered beside her.

Soon, everyone was echoing the same feeling — calls cutting off, SMS not sending, no Internet, no signal, no signal, no signal.

And Kagome couldn’t see anything, just try to keep breathing through the oppressive feeling.

She hadn’t experienced something like that since the three days she had spent inside the Jewel. The longest, worst days of her life.

She’d never thought she would have to deal with something like that again. But, unable to move, stuck between the bodies of thousands of others, as everyone slowly came to realize that no trains were coming and they couldn’t leave the building, she felt tears well up in her eyes.

I don’t have time for that, she thought, forcing them back and tightening her jaw to keep her lower lip from trembling. There had to be something she could do, and she refused to stand there, weak and useless, as whatever had caused this to happen decided what to do with them.

Except she couldn’t see anything.

She managed to take a few steps more, craning her neck in hope of spotting something others might not be able to see, when she bumped into a broad man.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “if I could just—”

“Listen, lady,” he said, turning around a glaring at her, sweat dripping down his forehead, “no one here can move. So just stay where you are until they fix the issue, alright? No need to try anything. Stay in your goddamn place.”

Then he turned his back on her again, and Kagome stared, blinking slowly.

See, it was in moments like that when she regretted not having a big, strong half-demon with anger issues by her side.

Well, that, and whenever she was making herself ramen.

She hoped he’d found something he liked just as much, in the Feudal Era.

Bumping into the man again — one might say, deliberately pushing him, but Kagome would never —, she slipped through the crowd further, out of reach by the time he turned around to shout at her.

“You bitch!”

Asshole.

There were odd things going on, she realized as she got closer to the trails. She couldn’t see them, but she could feel strong presences, exuding the same energy as the creatures she’d been getting rid off for months, except so much stronger it made it hard to breathe, not unlike Naraku’s miasma — except that she seemed to be the only one to feel it.

The spiritual energy swirled inside her, instinctively wanting to rebel against whatever energy that was — not demonic, nor spiritual… what could it be? — and she pushed it down. She hadn’t let it out fully since the first couple of months of her first year of high school. It brought her unnecessary attention, which she didn’t want to deal with back then, and she had never gotten around to letting it out fully. There had been no need, and her emotions were either to reign in when she didn’t let herself experience everything. With her spiritual energy out, she didn’t have a choice to do that. Still, even when under control, it prickled unpleasantly when that energy infested the air.

“Does anyone know what’s going on?” she asked out loud, to no one in particular.

“No clue, but there are some dudes on the tracks,” a woman answered, somewhere in front of her. “Maybe that’s why the trains aren’t coming? The security should hurry up to get them off if that’s the case, though.”

“Some dudes?” a tall man in a suit scoffed. “There is one man there. Anyway, I heard the security is waiting for someone to come.”

“Who?” Kagome asked, frowning in confusion. She could not imagine how one man was necessary here.

“Gojo Satoru,” he replied with a shrug. “No clue who that is, though. Heard someone saying that.”

Okay. Very odd. Sounded like a trap for that guy, whoever he is, if you asked her, but there wasn’t much she could do about it from where she, and the doors to the tracks were shut close, which left her with another choice.

Going back.

Whatever it was that she felt fall earlier, she could at least try undoing it. If it was similar in nature to the weird energy of the creatures, it wouldn’t last long in front of her anyway.

Problem was, of course, that everyone was trying to leave, and there just wasn’t any space to go. She managed to make around twenty meters before getting stuck again, back at the bottom of the stairs.

This was starting to get annoying. If Inuyasha was there, she’d hop on his shoulders and they’d jump over the crowd. If Kirara was around, she’d fly over the scene and away from here. If Sango was here, well, she’d probably start mowing down the crowd with her Hiraikkotsu.

Kami, she missed her friends.

“What’s he doing up there?” yet another anonymous voice in the crowd asked.

Tilting her head all the way back, Kagome squinted to try and figure out what is was she was seeing.

If her eyes weren’t betraying her, high up there, where she thought the ground floor of Shibuya was, there was a man. Floating in the air.

She’d seen such things before, of course, but these were yokai. That man, though even from where she was she could tell that there was something incredibly powerful about him, was decidedly human.

And, as she slowly realized because the silhouette was growing closer, coming down.

Fast.

Right above her.

Surely, he wasn’t going to…?

Nope, he definitely was. She ducked with a shriek before his shoe came in contact with her face, and watched as he stepped onto some guy’s head instead, then jumping through the crowd before disappearing behind the gates protecting the rails.

Could that be Gojo Satoru? The guy that was supposed to save everyone here? Really?

Well, she supposed having the power to fly was a step in the right direction — no pun intended — but she did wonder if he could be trusted to save them.

Though, again, she once knew a boy with a heart of gold who would have saved everyone here while absolutely stomping all over them and yelling insults at the people under him too, so maybe she shouldn’t be so prompt to judge.

She still couldn’t move, could only crane her neck and try to glimpse what was happening. And things were happening, which made it all the more frustrating. She could hear the screams, as the gates to the tracks opened and people fell down, she could feel the energy’s rise and fall, she could see a blueish aura developing, become stronger. She both heard and felt, deep in her bones, as one of the things that was never really alive died, and it tugged at her heart in a way it never had before. Somewhere, she thought, a leaf had weathered and died.

She couldn’t explain it though, couldn’t explain anything that was going on there — and things only got worse from there.

She’d stayed composed, mostly, as things went crazier, even she didn’t understand a thing. Fear may have been running through her veins, but it was a feeling she was once used to, and she found that that wasn’t the kind of things you just forgot.

As a train started to approach though, slowing down not far from her, fear was replaced by absolute horror.

She could see the souls seeping out of it, contorting, bent into abnormal shapes, sobbing and begging to anyone who could hear them, for freedom.

Souls weren’t things she usually saw. Sometimes, she noticed someone with a very large one, and she wondered what their story was, if it was anything like hers, but for most people, their shapes espoused their bodies perfectly — they were right where they belonged.

She choked a sob, and it was only when she felt the tears slide down her cheeks that she realized she was crying.

She tried to take a step back, bumped against another body, didn’t comprehend the person’s protest.

Her head

spins.

These

are

all

people.

 The subway doors opened slowly, and all Kagome could do was watch as the horrible, misshaped humans with the screaming souls poured out, tearing into the other humans who stood in their paths. One of them rushed towards her, and she grabbed onto it, hands tightening onto its shoulders as it tried to bite her face off.

As she was falling, she felt its body shift under her hands.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered quietly to the young woman whose dead body remained in her arms, as her soul was freed. She saw it shiver, taking back its true form, before floating towards the exit of the station — hopefully, it would be free to do so.

Around her, there was nothing but chaos. The humans that were no longer humans ripping into the ones that still were, bodies falling from the upper floors and coming to crash down near her. She didn’t have time to mourn any of those deaths, nor did she have the power to do much, not as she was. She wished that she had her bow and arrows with her, but they were forgotten in a corner of her grandpa’s shed, where she hadn’t stepped foot in months, maybe years.

That meant she had nothing to channel her spiritual energy into. The only choice that left her, she thought as she slowly rose back to her feet, abandoning the woman’s dead body on the floor, was to let her spiritual energy flow out.

It had been so long since she’d last done that, though, that she had no idea where to start. She had spent so many years repressing that side of her, only using it to protect her students and loved ones, trying to dismiss the years she’d spent in the Feudal Era, trying to fit in and be normal and forget… How could she let it out again, even if she wanted to?

No choice, though, she repeated to herself, clenching her fists. Another monster jumped on her, and with a gentle touch she set it to rest, doing her best to accompany the body of the old man to the floor. Then came a businessman, and a teenager, and a middle-aged woman with a round face, and Kagome couldn’t figure out what to do, not when they kept coming, and they were all people, all with their own lives, their own loved ones, and her eyes burned, and her heart ached, and she needed it all to—

Stop.

When the world froze, she didn’t understand what was happening.

She saw a dash of white to her left, and realized, slowly, that everyone around her had gone completely and utterly still. Former humans, humans, even the oddly shaped creatures she could spot now that the world had gone quiet. She took a step forward, then another.

Nothing moved, except — except that white bolt, running through the people, piercing through the former humans.

It was the man she’d seen earlier, she realized.

Had she been right about his identity then?

Was he Gojo Satoru?

She walked through a world gone still. She could feel, distantly, something pushing against her mind, trying to get in, but the spiritual energy inside her would never let it. It was an instinctive thing, a refusal, and she knew that whatever was happening outside of her just wasn’t compatible with what was going on inside.

She had so many questions, not even the beginning of an answer, but she let them go, walking slowly in the frozen space, bending down to brush her fingers against the back of former humans to get their bodies to turn back into their rightful form. They deserved to find rest as they had existed.

One of them was a young girl, wearing a Sailor Moon costume. She had to have gone out to have fun tonight — and her life had not only been cut short, but horrifically so, through pains Kagome could not even begin to imagine. She bent down, picking up the magical girl staff that was hung at her waist. It was a silly thing, nothing like Miroku’s staff, but holding it like it was a weapon gave her a little bit of strength.

She needed magic too, tonight.

She walked between an odd young man — who she knew was no man at all — with long grey hair and stitches all over his body and face, and a blue creature with what could best be described as a volcano for a head. She didn’t touch them, knew right away that they were not the same as the ones she had gotten rid of at her high school. She needed more information, and that meant that, at least for now, she would not risk making contact.

Plus, there was something by a pillar that had caught her attention.

Well, it didn’t feel like something. Her eyes told her it was a box, but she picked up nothing from it.

No, not nothing — less than nothing, a void, a black hole, an emptiness in a world where nothing was truly empty. It was off, in the same bizarre, fucked up way this whole situation was off, and once more, she couldn’t figure out what on earth was going on here.

The white bolt appeared again on the stairs on the other side of her, on the opposite side of the place through which he’d left, still tearing through the former humans, finally getting to the last one, a couple meters away from her. He didn’t pay any attention to her, probably assuming she was frozen like the rest. The second the head was torn off, the world switched back on.

Kagome looked at him. There was blood all over his clothes and hands, dripping from a spot on his cheek. The bluest eyes she’d ever seen appeared to shine under white locks of hair that clung to his forehead. He was panting painfully, shoulders slinking down with each exhale, chest rising up and down. He was a handsome man, but that wasn’t what stuck out to her right now. No, she thought of how he looked tired. She thought of how he had just allowed the souls of hundreds, maybe of thousands of those humans to go free, and carried that burden on his shoulders forever now. She thought of all the people that were alive now, thanks to him. She thought of how he’d done it all alone, and her heart ached.

All of her important battles, she’d fought with all of her friends by her side.

His eyes darted to the box, which was sitting between him and her, and all of a sudden, eyes snap open on the box, as the nothingness around it expanded.

The white-haired man’s eyes widened, and he spun around, starting to get away — when another man appeared. Long black hair, traditional clothing, stitches on his forehead, and something so deeply, deeply wrong about him that even after everything she’d seen that night, it still made Kagome’s stomach churn.

“Satoru!” he said cheerfully, confirming Kagome’s suspicions about the man’s identity. “Long time no see.”

The white-haired man froze, and almost right as that happened, the box started to shake.

Kagome’s body moved on instinct. Her gut telling her that something bad was about to happen, her knowledge that she could stop it, her deep conviction the white-haired man deserved to have someone on his side, it all took over, and she couldn't have stopped to think about it if she wanted to.

Just as the box was launching itself forward, she’d stepped in front of it, raising a hand. Her back collided with that of the white-haired man, so she was certain whatever was coming wouldn’t get in contact with him, another unconscious decision. Since she didn’t have anything to channel her energy into, all she could do was raise the Sailor Moon staff she’d grabbed earlier. It wasn’t anything much, but she could still push her energy through there, using it to shape it as she wished to — until she figured how to actually let it out.

“Kekkai!”

Barriers had never been her specialty. Kikyo and Miroku might have excelled at them, but her powers mostly manifested in an offensive way, not defensive. In this case though, she only wanted to shield the two of them, not a whole building, like she’d tried — and failed — to do at her school a few times. This was much more within her capabilities, even with such a small staff as her only tool.

The box shrieked like it was in pain when it hits the barrier, and her spiritual energy started pouring into the barrier, through the staff, as it purified it. A lesser priestess could have been drained in an instant. Kagome? She felt energized. As the power left her body, used as it was intended to, it felt like she finally had room to breathe.

The box fell to the floor, eyes closed again. Defeated, if only for now. Around it, space was back to normal.

Wow. Not too bad for someone who sucked at barriers, huh?

“Are you okay?” she asked, whirling around to look at the man, a hand naturally coming to rest on his shoulder.

She was met with wide blue eyes that seemed to be able to look straight through to her soul. They were cautious, inquisitive, something cold about them, but more than anything, they were curious.

“You’re conscious,” he noted, tilting his head to the side, fascination growing more and more obvious on his face.

Well, yeah, of course she was, she thought at first — until she realized, glancing around them, that all the humans looked frozen in place, bodies slack though they were still standing, mouths open, eyes dull and empty.

Why…?

“A priestess,” the man with the black hair said thoughtfully. “I thought you were all extinct.”

They weren’t, and she knew for a fact that she was far from the last one. Despite that, she doubted that this was an information she should be giving him, so she held her tongue, even if she wanted nothing more than to throw in his face how wrong he was. The white-haired man turned to face him, deliberately placing himself between him and Kagome, as if shielding her from him.

“Now that that’s dealt with,” he said, tone light and breezy, “how about you tell me who you are?”

The man’s eyes remained cold, but the corner of his lips lifted to form a smile — one that appeared quite painful to put up. Kagome wasn’t sure what was going on here, but if she had to guess, she’d say she might have thrown a wrench in that dude’s plans.

Good.

“You know me too well to ask that, Satoru,” he said. His tone was soft.

Satoru scoffed.

“Please. As if I’d be fooled.” His eyes hardened, and Kagome could feel his muscles clenching. He was preparing to throw himself into battle. “My Six Eyes might be telling me you’re Geto Suguru, but my heart and soul know otherwise. Who are you?”

Six Eyes…? Oh, whatever. That seemed pretty low on the list of her priorities right now, actually.

The man started to raise a hand, but let it fall back down to his side.

“Maybe we’ll have that conversation again, at a later time, Satoru,” he said sweetly. “For now, I’m afraid we’ll have to backtrack.”

“Are you kidding me?” the volcano dude hissed, not far from him. “Is that it? Just because some bitch appeared?”

Rude.

“I don’t know who he’s supposed to be,” Kagome said, tiptoeing to try and get closer to Satoru’s ear so he could hear her, “but there’s a presence in his head.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder, blue eyes filled with confusion now.

“How can you know that?”

Kami. Why was everyone intent on being so disrespectful to her tonight?

“No time for this, Jogo,” the black haired man — Geto, was it? — chimed. “I would advise you leave while you can.”

Satoru spun back around.

“None of you are leaving this place,” he announced calmly.

In just an instant, he was gone from in front of Kagome, launching himself at both Jogo and Geto, with a speed that made it impossible for her to follow. Her eyes left the fight once it looked to her like he could take both of them at once, and focused instead on the third bystander — the one with the grey hair.

He looked at the fight with vague interest, and she thought he might not be as invested in the result as the others, maybe not as dangerous as the rest — until he walked to one of the frozen humans, a woman with a long dress and short black hair, and she saw the shape of her soul and body change into something that couldn’t be recognized as a human.

When he let go of her, the woman, who looked nothing like a woman now, threw herself into the fight. It took less than a second for Satoru to kill her, but already the grey-haired non-human was moving on to the next one.

Changing these people’s bodily integrity, wounding them so deep in their very essence they couldn’t survive it, all to kill them.

Something started burning within Kagome.

“You’re the one who’s been doing that to those poor souls,” she hissed between her teeth.

He glanced at her, eyes widening as a big smile formed on his lips.

“You can see souls?” he asked, sounding genuinely delighted. ���Finally someone who can appreciate what I’m doing!”

“Appreciate?” She was trembling with anger. She felt her spiritual energy banging against the walls of her mind, the ones she didn’t remember how to lower fully, as had been natural to her when she was a teenager, and she could feel them getting ready to collapse. “You destroyed them. All they can hope for now is death. You’re a monster.”

He laughed, light and happy, and his eyes were warm when they focused on her.

“Thank you,” he hummed. “Maybe you’ll appreciate what I’m going to do to you?”

He was in front of her before she could blink.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m sure Gojo will kill you soon. But before that, I’m going to make you so, so disgusting.”

Both of his hands closed over her face, almost delicately, as if he was cradling a small animal within them.

Almost immediately, she felt him pull on her soul. It wasn’t a new feeling exactly, not to her, though his attempts at shaping it were. She could tell it was expanding, knew, on some level, that in order to fit her body, it was forced to make itself smaller than it was. That was what that old witch had said, too — her soul was much, much larger than usual.

She heard him let out a sound of surprise.

“Oh,” he commented, obviously delighted, “oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you! Maybe I’ll keep you!”

As he pulled at her soul, she could feel his — if you could even call that a soul. She could see all the shapes it had been forced into, found it distended and fragile and about to tear. More than anything, she found it repulsive. It tried, clumsily, to change hers. But she was never going to let anything or anyone else toy with her soul, ever again.

“Get you filthy hands off my soul,” she snarled, wrapping her fingers around his wrists.

She would never have bested him in a purely physical fight, but this wasn’t one, and he was the only one to blame.

He was laughing at first as she forced him back.

Then the laughter turned into screams.

“It burns!” he protested, like a child discovering fire for the first time. “Stop it, it burns!”

She could feel it, too, her spiritual energy piercing through him as easily as a knife through butter. She forced him to his knees, and as he looked up at her, eyes terrified now, she knew he saw it. Her soul, wrapping itself around her in a wide sphere, dwarfing him and his poor excuse of a soul completely.

“That’s… beautiful,” he whispered.

Even then, he couldn’t resist trying to change it, couldn’t help himself. And so, as Kagome called it back to her, felt its warmth as it invested her body completely, she felt no guilt, no shame, not even rage anymore.

She was merely doing what needed to be done. This creature was an anomaly existing to cause chaos. It wasn’t a yokai that played its own part in nature, not a human, not even truly living. A plant warranted more respect than this.

So, through her palms, she pushed her spiritual energy on him, in him, ignored the burning it caused her. Through and through, with no regards for the amount of energy she used, she purified him. There was so much pain inside of him, and she let it pass through her, let it turn back into what it was, just an emotion, just something human that should have always stayed that way, never taken that form.

When she reached the end, all there was left was a sense of relief.

He smiled at her.

“That’s not so bad,” he whispered before vanishing.

Kagome fell to her knees, heaving. It had been years since she’d last used her powers like that. Glancing down at her hands, she saw her palms were red and burnt, and she closed her trembling fingers over them carefully.

It took her long seconds of trying to regulate her breathing and to calm down the energy within her — which was telling her it wanted out, still so much left inside her, no matter how much of it she had just used up — before she realized how quiet the station had gotten.

Glancing up, she saw Satoru approaching her, lips twisted into a annoyed expression.

“Where—” She realized her mouth was painfully dry, swallowed. “Where are…?”

“Geto’s gone,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Used the other one to escape.”

He’d gotten rid of Jogo, which had barely been a work-out, but whatever or whoever was puppeteering his friend’s body had managed to escape him.

Which delayed the moment when he’d kill it. He couldn’t say that thrilled him.

“Now,” he said, ridding himself of those thoughts to crouch in front of her. “Tell me. Who are you?”

She blinked at him.

“Kagome,” she answered. “Kagome Higurashi.”

He studied her. The name was unfamiliar, not any exorcist family he’d ever heard of. On top of that, she didn’t produce any cursed energy. It was almost reminiscent of Fushiguro Toji — except Toji had been a void, and she definitely wasn’t one. Whatever she exuded was warm and gentle.

“You’re not an exorcist,” he said finally.

“Well,” she said, glancing up at the ceiling thoughtfully, “I’ve dealt with ghosts and yokai — demons, if you’d like. So, I guess technically, you could say I am an exorcist…?”

She watched as a wide grin formed on his lips. Reaching up behind him, he wrapped a blindfold around his face, hiding his eyes.

“He called you a priestess, though, didn’t he?” he asked, fiddling behind his head to tie it.

“I guess you could say that too,” she shrugged. It wasn’t like she’d ever spent that much time working at a temple. Really, it was just a title to describe her ability, one she didn’t feel that strongly about. “I’ve been called a miko, too, but— I’m sorry, do you need help with that?”

He stilled his awkward attempts at tying the thing behind his head, examining her — she thought — from behind what looked like a thick blindfold.

Odd. Very odd, in fact, but so low on the list of ‘odd’ she’d dealt with today that it would feel silly to ask about it.

“My oh my,” he said once he’d gotten his bearings back, “is that what you’re into, then? Blindfolding guys you’ve just met?”

Oh God. She might have missed Miroku, but not nearly enough to be happy that this was where he was going right away.

“Now, when you said yokai, were you talking about curses?” he asked, having apparently succeeded with his blindfold.

“What do you mean ‘curses’?” she frowned, mind immediately going to the Wind Tunnel. “I’ve known people who were cursed, but I mostly meant… Well. Yokai.”

“Alright, Kagome,” he said, and her brow furrowed some more at the immediate familiarity. “I’m going to have a lot more questions for you, but I think my people are going to get here soon, and it’s probably better if you’re not here when they get there.”

Ominous. Another question to add to the list.

“What do we say we get out of here?” he asked, shooting her a cocky grin.

“Um. Sure, but how do you— Ah!”

Without a warning, he’d pulled her to her feet and, wrapping a strong arm around her waist, he’d pressed her against him as he— took off, basically. It wasn’t her first time flying, but it still caught her off guard. She wrapped her arms around his neck without giving it a second a thought, almost jumped back when he let out an outraged gasp.

“We’ve just met!” he protested with fake modesty. “Do you always hug strangers?”

She glared, tightening her hold so she didn’t feel like she’d fall down the second he’d let go.

“Do you?”

He let out a light laugh as he flew up. He kept her tightly pressed against his hard chest, arm not once faltering. He might have been a stranger, but for the first time since the beginning of the night, Kagome felt fully safe.

Eventually, they made it out of the building and he distanced himself from it, taking her to a nearby rooftop.

“Alright then,” he said, setting her down. “Call a cab.”

She groaned. After the way she’d spent her evening, it felt very, very unfair to have to live on a teacher’s salary.

He watched her as she reluctantly got her phone out, then sighed while she stared at it.

“Do you want me to call you one?” he asked.

Did she? If he was like Miroku, she’d never hear the end of it. On the other hand, well, she didn’t know what that weird box thing was, but she didn’t think it would have helped him, so…

“So, you’re an exorcist, right?” she questioned, looking at him. “Does that pay well?”

He seemed surprised for a second, then laughed again, throwing his head back as if she’d said the funniest thing ever.

“I can’t complain,” he said, pulling out his phone and pressing a few touches on the screen. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” she sighed. “It was nice meeting you…?”

“Gojo Satoru.” Then he paused, as if for dramatic effect, and his grin widened when she didn’t react. “Well, I’ll be in touch, Ka-go-me,” he said, stretching her name as if he was testing out how it felt on his tongue.

She opened her mouth to ask him a question — she wasn’t even sure which one, there were so many on her ever-growing list, but before she could, he’d raised a hand, and then he’d vanished. She didn’t think he’d run, though, no, he was just— gone. There one second, away the next.

She had no idea what on earth had been tonight.

The news talked about some sort of terror attack in Shibuya that night. She let herself weep then, mourning all the lives that were lost, wishing them a safe travel to the other side, hoping the next life would prove kinder to them.

She knew she would not have that long to get used to those thoughts, to that world that she had only caught glimpses of until then. She knew that whatever had started in Shibuya, this was only the beginning.

Next time, she would need to be ready.

“So you’re saying that Geto Suguru, whose body you refused to have destroyed last year, has come back, possibly as a curse himself, and was responsible for the attack on Shibuya?”

Gojo scratched the back of his head, failed to stifle a yawn.

“It wasn’t Geto Suguru,” he answered with a shrug. ‘A presence in his head’, Kagome had said. Not that he had any clue what it meant, of course. He’d had to look into that, but he couldn’t do that while these old farts kept interrogating him about something none of them could have even hoped to achieve. “Are we done here?”

“We’ll see what the consequences are for your actions, which have endangered all the lives of those living in Tokyo, will be,” the distant voice boomed. “For now, we have one more question.”

On a screen, a camera recording of Kagome appeared.

“This woman. While we lost sight of her, it appeared she was not affected by the use of your domain extension. Who is she?”

Gojo stared at the screen with fake concentration.

“Oh, that’s what I forgot to do! I didn’t ask her that.”

There was heavy silence on the other side.

“We will find her identity,” the voice threatened. “You are only delaying the inevitable.”

“Well, you should tell me once you do! I sure would like to know who she is, too,” Gojo answered with a shrug. “Now, if we’re done here, some of us are actually working hard, and need to rest.”

He waved as he turned his back on the Higher-Ups, moving towards the doors with some wide strides. They didn’t bother answering him, and he didn’t bother looking back. He could have been worried about Kagome, but all they had to go off of was the grainy footage of a damaged surveillance camera. On top of that, even if they tried to find a better picture somewhere, doing that while looking at the footage of Shibuya on Halloween night would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Maybe they’d be able to pull it off eventually, but it would take them time.

He was sure that he would get to her first.

It's been a while since I had as much fun writing a fic as I did this one! I'm super excited for this pairing and I have a ton of ideas for them. This story is really just so I get to write for them before I finish outlining other ideas I have for him that will have a little more plot than this. I hope you liked this, please consider supporting your writer (me, I'm your writer) by reblogging, commenting and/or sending me an ask about it! I thrive on interaction, and also I would LOVE to talk about this pairing. See you in the next chapter!

[cambion-companion]

Waterfall

Based on this Anon ask: I'm not the biggest fan of modern aus but i cant stop thinking about showering with aemond, watching the water cascade from his hair to his neck, his torso and then lower. I think he'd love a good piping hot shower while i just stand there, thoughts of getting clean thrown out of the window (theres also a thought of getting railed from behind while under the shower but its too early for this 😂)

With some encouragement I decided to turn this into a fic under a waterfall, enemies to lovers vibe like my other fic, Captured.

And since all my fics are getting flagged for community guidelines whether they need it or not I've decided to earn it this time with some smut so 18+ only pls

Aemond x fem!reader | making love under a waterfall

"Aemond, please, let's stop!" You called ahead; your hands bound with heavy rope in front of you were beginning to ache in earnest. "It's hot." You muttered as an aside to yourself, wishing you could shed a couple layers.

Up ahead, Aemond paused, turning slightly towards you but not meeting your gaze.

He hadn't looked at you directly since taking you prisoner.

You heard him curse you under his breath.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" You snarked as he stomped back to where you waited.

That got a reaction, Aemond's fiery lilac eye caught you and you found yourself wishing he'd look away. Aemond yanked at your bonds, causing you to stumble forward. Your foot caught a tree root and you fell forward, hard, against the Targaryen's chest.

"Get up." Aemond hissed in your ear, supporting you by your elbows and helping you regain your footing.

"You really have turned into quite an ass since last we met." You grouched, watching as he pulled unsheathed his dagger. "Is that a dagger, or are you just happy to see me?"

"If you don't stop your inane quips, I will show you how much of a dagger this is."

"Tetchy."

With a fluid movement Aemond had cut through the rope that bound your hands and you were free. For a clear second of insanity, you thought of trying to run. You settled for rubbing your sore wrists and glowering at the prince. "Tell me again why you couldn't just whisk me back to King's Landing on a dragon."

"Too high profile." Aemond answered, stowing his knife and beginning to scan the area for a place to set up camp. Of course, you had been designated pack carrier. "Mother wants you back alive and...unspoiled."

"Ah, so you're still a mommy's boy." You slipped the heavy pack off your shoulders, letting it fall heavily to the earthen floor.

Aemond considered you for a moment, before tilting his head, smiling slightly. "Yes."

"I guess that should be a relief." You muttered, rolling your shoulders. "Well!" You clapped your numb hands together. "I'm off!"

With that, you turned on your heel and began descending the forested hill toward the enticing river you could hear rushing nearby.

A firm hand grasped your elbow, halting your progress. "Just where are you thinking of escaping to?"

You turned back to Aemond, trying your best to maintain the debonair mask of indifferent confidence. "Hear that river?" You cupped a hand around your ear for emphasis. "I'm going to take a bath."

"You've no soap." Aemond looked you over dubiously, making you feel self-conscious despite yourself.

"You royals and your luxuries." You sniffed disdainfully. "I'm sure I'll manage."

"How will I know you aren't running away?" Aemond shook his silver head. "No, you're not going anywhere I can't see you."

"You're welcome to join me." You looked at him seductively through your lashes, the effect quite ruined by your state of current filth. "Aemond please. I smell like a barn set afire." You lifted your arms, shuffling toward him. "Give me a hug."

Aemond back away hastily, holding up his hands to fend you off, a begrudging smile curving his lips. "No no! Alright, go clean yourself. Take no longer than strictly necessary or I will come find you."

"Promises, promises!" You were already skipping down toward the river, giggling at the prospect of submerging your hot sticky body in cool water. You even tricked yourself into thinking you heard Aemond laughing behind you.

It was even better than you had anticipated.

A small pool surrounded by rocks and trees lay glistening sapphire beneath the afternoon sun, fed by a small waterfall. You quickly shed your clothes before wading into the cool waters. It was as though this little pool had been crafted by the gods specifically for you. You swam over to the other side of it, flipping onto your back, letting the silken water soak through your dirty hair.

The perfect plants for creating a sudsy lather from their crushed leaves were growing all around the river. You were quick to take full advantage of them, cleaning your grimy skin and sighing in relief.

Time passed, you had cleaned your body as well as your clothes and laid them out on the rocks to dry. You could see smoke curling above the trees from where Aemond must've set up camp. Smiling to yourself you swam laps around the edge of the pool, cupping your hands beneath the waterfall and running them through your hair.

"Y/N!"

"Shit, Aemond!" You didn't bother to hide your naked torso in the water, looking at him over your shoulder. "Oh dear, are you alright? You're turning an alarming shade of red."

"Enough games, Y/N." He crossed his arms, eye focused on your face. "I told you I would come retrieve you if you took too long."

"It's almost as if you don't trust me."

"I don't."

"Oh come on, Aemond." You grumbled, turning your body fully to face him, the water lapping around your waist.

Aemond couldn't help but glance down, passing a hand over his face and swearing lightly.

"You must be hot and dirty as well. Come on in, this river is big enough for the two of us." You waded fully back into the water, Aemond watched you move with an odd expression on his face. "You can trust me. We were childhood friends after all."

"You've changed." His tone made your cheeks flush. "Fine." Aemond began shedding his own clothing, seemingly not caring if you watched him undress.

"Splendid!" You gathered more fronds of the soap substitute you'd created. "There are plants here that I've crushed up to create a soap-like substance. We can wash your clo-"

In your distraction you hadn't noticed Aemond, devoid of any articles of clothing, wading over to the waterfall. He had already created a lather from the same plants you had used and was vigorously washing his long sleek hair beneath the cascading water.

"Well that's completely unfair." You spoke to yourself, your eyes roaming along the planes of his body.

He was lean, not broad and muscular like the men at the farm you worked at. The planes of his torso were defined, and you enjoyed watching the rivulets of water run down his pale skin.

"Suddenly shy?"

Your eyes flicked guiltily back up to his angular face. He had shed his eyepatch; a glittering blue gemstone lay within where his right eye used to be. You had left King's Landing before that had happened to him.

You moved through the water towards him, his hands stilled in his hair as he watched you approach. You noticed his plush lips part slightly, his lilac eye dilating slightly as he took in the sight of you walking slowly out of the water.

You were close enough to touch him now. Your fingers sought his face first. Aemond's eye fluttered closed as you traced his jaw, he caught your wrist before you could caress the vertical scar that ran over his eye. "Don't."

"Aemond." You said softly, your brow furrowing as you gazed at each other. You watched a droplet of sparkling water run down the sapphire gem, catching on his face like a tear. "Please." You breathed, not quite sure what it was you were asking for. Forgiveness? Acceptance?

"Why did you leave?" His voice was low, yet it cut through you like a knife. "I need to know."

"My family didn't want me to be Helaena's handmaiden. They pulled me away, and I didn't have a choice but to obey."

"You could've fought them."

"I was a child, Aemond. You know that's not true."

"Hmm."

Silence fell between the two of you, the rushing water splashing against your skin the only sound. Aemond's grip on your wrist loosened enough for you to cup his face once more. He hesitated, on the brink of something, before turning his head and placing a kiss to your palm. Your breath caught. "Kiss me."

He regarded you, his eye gleaming. You stepped closer, closing the remaining distance and pressing your chest to his, letting him feel your skin against his. You tilted your head up invitingly, your lips inches apart.

Droplets of water caught the sunlight, glimmering as they fell off Aemond's face. He bent into you, time seemed to slow, a rushing sound not at all to do with water filled your ears. You felt his soft lips press against your parted mouth. Your groans of relief vibrated into each other as Aemond wrapped his arm around your lower back, pulling your further against his body. You giggled, feeling the smooth skin of his back, trailing your hands up to tangle in his hair, pulling slightly on the soaked locks, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the prince.

"What have you done to me?" Aemond murmured, nibbling your bottom lip and along your jaw.

"Not one day has gone by I haven't thought of you." You arched your neck as he began sucking bruises to your throat.

He spun you around, pressing up behind you, his arousal evident against the curve of your ass. Water dripped onto your back, running in tickling rivulets down your sensitive skin. Your palms lay flat against the stone wall as Aemond bowed you beneath him, kissing a trail down your neck to your shoulders.

You felt his long fingers running up your legs, you widened your stance, parting your thighs for him.

"So eager." He purred, biting your shoulder gently. "You've been anticipating this for a while now, haven't you?"

Words escaped you as Aemond's fingers found your slippery quim, dipping into the nectar that was leaking from you, dragging a mewl from your mouth. You rocked your hips back into his touch, needing more of him.

"Patience, my flower." Aemond's mouth had found your ear, you turned your face into him, your hooded eyes focused on his lips. "I intend on savoring every inch of you, having you come undone around me until your legs can no longer hold your weight."

Aemond made more than good on that promise, the sound of the waterfall swallowing up your cries of pleasure as Aemond claimed you beneath its waters.

Your fingers were sore from where they had gripped the stone, in fact every muscle was aching in the most pleasant way possible. You felt lightheaded even now as you lay bundled in blankets next to the sparking fire, your head resting on Aemond's chest, his arms circled low around you, his dry hair falling over your throat in a silvery sheen.

You felt his fingers combing through your own hair, leaning into his relaxing touch, allowing your eyes to close as the firelight played warmly across your face. Your clothes were drying near the flames, Aemond's touch beneath the blanket moved to cup the swell of your breast tenderly. Beneath your head you could feel his breathing deepen, his fingers in your hair faltering and stilling.

You didn't know what the morning would bring, not wanting to think beyond this magic moment. When you and Aemond were two lovers alone in the forest, just the two of you. No politics, no jaded history, no dragons or kings.

Just a man and a woman who had always loved each other.

[chaos0pikachu]

Hi chaos,

So people on other socials are saying playboyy is camp? I don't quite get that vibe so I'm asking do you? Why?

*cracks neck* okay let's do this; this got wildly long so I'm putting a chunk of it behind a cut b/c unlike some blogs I'm not gonna subject anyone to endless and endless scrolling just b/c I added pictures anyway~~

So people are probably getting this from Den himself:

I talked about camp an itty bitty bit before, specifically I quoted Susan Sontag who was an American academic, novelist and writer mostly known for her essays. You can read more about her here. Specifically I quoted her essay Notes on Camp:

(source)

I really recommend reading the entire essay, it's a bit dated, but Sontag also makes a point that camp changes with the times as well. This essay was written, after all, in 1964, before Hairspray (1988), Batman (1966), Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975), or Mommie Dearest (1981) which are considered camp classics now. However there's a lot of good stuff to learn in her essay and she also names a lot of prominent either queer creators - Oscar Wilde, Jean Cocteau - or prominent figures that the queer community sorta like, claimed - Bette Davis, Greta Garbo.

Camp is a concept, it's not a hard and fast rule. Not every film or TV show that gets claimed as camp is intended to be camp - Showgirls and Mommie Dearest are sincere in their intentions, they are not trying to be camp at all, but through sheer accidental glory they stumbled right into the camp valley. Similarly with a film I recently learned about via this amazing essay, Valley of the Dolls which was also sincere in it's depiction of drugs, sex, and show business but just ended up...campy (this is part 2 which is my favorite part but part 1 is great too):

I would also recommend this video by Kennie JD on Showgirls and you get a modern idea of how a non-film critic sees the camp in Showgirls even tho it's not intended as camp (Paul Verhoeven is never going for camp in his films he's often going for satire and yet, alas lol):

Okay so this is getting away from me, the question was "Is Playboyy Camp?"

I would argue, yes but definition but it's more classic definition rather than what people probably associate with "camp" in the modern day. Which is "bad" films, or so-bad-they're-good films, or drag queens - would love to see Zouey in full drag actually - but Rocky Horror isn't a "bad" film, heck Showgirls isn't a "bad" film, neither is But I'm a Cheerleader or Jawbreakers, or many other camp classics. Some are "bad" in that they didn't achieve their intentions - again Mommie Dearest is a great, if unfortunate, example of this actually - but films that intentionally try to be camp tend to fail, like Cat and the Hat starring Jim Carrey. They're to fake, they try to hard.

As Sontag said, camp is both sincere and pure and it is also abstract and highlights aesthetic first and foremost.

Showgirls grabbed people in part b/c it's so so so very over the top; from the acting yes but also the costuming and set design. But I'm a Cheerleader had a way smaller budget, but it's very aesthetics focused:

I've seen people say that Playboyy looks "fake" or "artificial" but so does But I'm a Cheerleader. However artificial is the wrong word, imo, to use here; rather both are camp and surreal. They're going with surrealistic aesthetics to emphasize the emotions of the characters and also, cause gays like color. We love that shit. It stands out. It's fucking fun, it's campy!

I don't think Playboyy is strictly camp but it does take inspiration from camp - it pushes its priorities of the film making to be about the aesthetics rather than emphasizing reality. It's not uninterested in reality - the discussions of sex work in a amoral way (which sidenote I think is a good thing), of sexual desires, the complexities of relationships and boundaries, the acknowledgement of kink etc - but it's uninterested in presenting the world of the show solely through a "realistic" lens visually.

Fantasy is part of the narrative of Playboyy thus that is reflected in the visuals.

BIAC is part satire, which I wouldn't say Playboyy is, since it's not satirizing anything specific - unlike Lovely Writer attempted and didn't accomplish imo doing well from what I watched - it's clear to me that Den is playing a lot with genre. Now how well him and Cheewin the director are accomplishing this, well that's up to individual interpretation.

I can't force people to like Playboyy as much as me - even tho I'm right - b/c I'm not a weirdo and we all like different shit. I do think that Playboyy is using like, actual cinematography however. Like I see that word thrown around a lot and then people provide really like basic examples. Like I'm so sorry but 2Gether's cinematography is basic at best and boring at worst. Two dudes standing in a badly lit room in a mid-shot does not impressive cinematography make - which is fine because a lot of these shows are made on shoestring budgets.

I don't expect Moonlight level cinematography from gmmtv or MeMindY shows. And Playboyy doesn't have that level either it can't it's clearly also made on a small budget.

That said it IS filmed with purpose, and with a specific visual language. Not every shot is great but I do love the sincerity here, it's using color, lighting, and set design with actual thought to enhance the overall aesthetics of the show, enhance the fantasy at play, the camp.

Camp films aren't inherently "bad" films. They make you laugh, scream, and the best ones, actually do say something or spark discussion. Rocky Horror is meaningful to people, But I'm a Cheerleader means something to people, they're both unashamedly queer films that were both kinda bombs - critically and financially - and then slowly gained a cult following b/c they were way ahead of their times.

I get the feeling if camp applies to Playboyy at all it's in that sense, a series that's being pretty harshly maligned and disregarded critically at the moment, but that actually has a ton to say and may end up gaining a following down the line after it's over.

This was like, wildly long and I apologize lol

[tloupride]

The Last Of Us Pride Event: Calling All Fandom Creators

Are you involved in the TLOU fandom and have a creative hobby? Are you actively involved in the fandom and want to spread the positivity? Do you wish you could be more involved but don't know where to start?

If you answered yes to any of the above, or you're simply just curious about what a TLOU pride event could entail: the admins of this account (@consultingzoologist and @roselees) invite you to join in the fun ❤️🌈

This event encourages creativity of all types, and throughout the rest of Pride Month and beyond we will be providing themed prompts for the community to use. You're welcome to use as few or as many as you would like, and to interpret them however you see fit; the blog will also be open to submissions, and any prompt ideas are welcomed too!

Need ideas? Any creative response to the prompts would be lovely, but to name just a few examples:

Fanfics 📝 and Podfics 🎧

Whether you write long form works or exclusively one-shots, canon complaint or entire AUs - any of the prompts can be used for TLOU themed fan works.

Fanart 🎨

Do you draw digitally? Or do you hand paint your art? Either way - any of the prompts can be interpreted into art works, however you see fit.

Moodboards ✨️

A fandom classic and a lost tumblr art; how do the prompts make you feel? How would these translate into pictures?

Playlists 🎵

Like the above, what songs do the prompts make you think of? Compile a playlist of what pride in TLOU means to you, or maybe the vibes a certain character gives you.

Meta / Discussion 🤔

Maybe you just want to discuss the relationship between pride and the plot of the game, or the importance it has within the show; whatever the prompt makes you think of, we'd be happy to hear it!

Headcanons ✒️

Do you have headcanons to do with pride and the show? Now is the perfect time to share!

Of course all of these are just a guideline, if you have any other ideas to fulfill the prompts, we'll be happy to see them!

All shared fan works should be tagged with '#tlou pride exchange', and they'll be reblogged and shared here. Let's spread some more positivity within the community, and celebrate all of our brilliant creators! ❤️

(The work doesn't have to have been made exclusively for this event, either. If you have a queer themed fanwork for TLOU you want to share, regardless of when it was made, just tag us for a reblog!)

And now for the prompts...

Coming out

Queerplatonic relationship

Platonic soulmates: what platonic relationships from canon are meaningful to you?

Domestic bliss: write a fic or draw some art about your favourite pairing, romantic or platonic, enjoying some much deserved peace.

Queer romance

Queer joy

Found family: would it be Pride Month without the family we choose? Maybe talk about the meta of the trope, or your favourite instance within canon. Or how it comes into play in an AU.. the possibilities are endless!

Rarepairs: pick a pairing you wouldn't normally write/edit for, and see where the inspiration takes you! Maybe you only write TessJoel... why not try your hand at Ellie/Dina? Or perhaps you want to engage with a new platonic ship; why not take two characters that barely interact in canon, and see how it unfolds? What would happen if Joel had met Anna? How about Sarah and Ellie?

Gender identity: exactly what it says on the tin.

Pride Meta: What does queerness in The Last of Us mean to you? How does it contribute to the story?

"Nature held me close": Based on the quote from Leslie Feinberg, how does nature and queerness come together?

Pride AU: whether it be canon divergent or a modern AU, go nuts!

Remix: create some fanart, or a playlist, or even an edit for your favourite queer fic, old or new!

Music: create a fanwork based around your favourite queer anthem - bonus points if its canon complaint to the show (released before September 2003) or the game (September 2013)!

Of course, all of these are just guidelines and by no means have to be strictly adhered to, let your creativity run wild! We're excited to see what you make, and be sure to share them under the tag so we can reblog and spread the positivity further ❤️

Any comments, ideas, or want to submit a prompt of your own? Send it our way!

[anika-ann]

No Pressure - Pt.2 (S.R.)

Type: two-shot, early relationship, canon-ish (see A/N);  Part 1

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader (GG x Sparkles)     Word count: 12,5k

Summary:

Having gotten a sound advice from a friend, you and Steve try to work things out. And maybe, it will end up with you two working out; because Steve Rogers does nothing by halves - less so with you.

Warnings: 18+ for some serious FILTH, SMUT, unprotected piv, brief mention of a jerk from Sparkles’ past, fluff, language 

A/N: Standalone or a two-shot following Love on the Brain series and its oneshots - you might profit from checking the masterlist for characters; divider by firefly-graphics 😍

A/N: 6,8k of fluff done ✅it’s time for 12k of healthy communication and NSFW if you wanna spli the reading, look for  “let alone such small bump on the road” - underlined

“I like my body when it is with your body. It is so quite new a thing. Muscles better and nerves more.”

- E.E. Cummings

Having decided to spend the night at a hotel instead of rushing back to New York – no matter how fast the Quinjet could get – you said your goodbyes around one a.m., retreating to your room. Steve reserved a classy and slightly overpriced hotel for you taste, but as you walked through the surprisingly still lively lobby, you understood his choice. Even as it was Captain America with you on his arm walking by, no one blinked an eye – or didn’t approach you at least.

Hand in hand, you got into the elevator and you found yourself truly grateful for the privacy. Relaxed, you leaned your head onto Steve’s shoulder, catching his soft smile in the mirror. He dropped a kiss to your forehead.

“I had a really good time tonight, Sparkles. Thank you for taking me… all of us,” he muttered, causing you to grin up at him.

You couldn’t but agree with his sentiment – you had the best time too, seeing your two lives merge together effortlessly, with banter and laughs having left you tipsier than the little alcohol you had drunk. The merry atmosphere of the evening had now turned into a serene one, a slightly hazy dream of sorts – but the lightness of your heart remained.

Standing to your tiptoes, you pecked Steve’s lips chastely, hand on his shoulder for balance.

“My pleasure. Thank you for coming with me.”

Face to face, he lifted your joined hands, caressing your cheek with the back of his, eyes bright and proud.

“Always.”

You didn’t get the chance to process the butterflies in your stomach at his simple declaration as the door behind your back slid open, revealing the corridor leading to your room. Steve simply beckoned with his chin, lightly tugging at your hand and walking you out.

Leave to it Steve Rogers he’d only release that hand to hold the door open for you; you exaggerated the ‘why thank you, Mr.Rogers’ as you made a little curtsey and only then stepped in, taking a brief moment to scan the room as you kicked off your shoes.

A queen-sized bed with burgundy and cream cushions dominated the room, complemented by dark-wood closet with matching nightstands. Cream-coloured sofa aligned with the silvery walls; it almost faced, a little absurdly, the bathroom door, as if the guests could choose whether to watch the TV or hypnotize the door until it opened. Peeking behind the corner, you were welcomed by large and no-doubt one-way window replacing one of the walls, offering the view of city lights. Your overnight bags Steve had had brought up there sat by a drawer, right under non-descript modern art painting.

Despite the strictly hotel-like look of the room big enough to mimic a junior suite, you could still sense an air of home; but perhaps that was only the person you’d share the space with.

The door clicked shut with a barely-there noise, causing you to look over your shoulder with an automatic smile – one that turned curious when you found Steve still by the door, posture stiff and face focused. It seemed he had observed your every step, every little movement and as you spun on your heels to face him fully, his gaze flickered down for barely a second. And the moment he met your eyes again, your throat went a little dry, your brain registering something new in the way he was looking at you.

“What?” you asked awkwardly, pulse thundering so loud in your ears that had Steve decided to answer, you probably wouldn’t have heard him anyway.

Luckily, he was a man of action more often than not; and the new emotion you deciphered in his blown pupils was pure fire, speaking louder than words.

In three long strides, he was on you, hand cradling your jaw, mouth latching onto yours just as his arm wrapped around your waist. That was good thinking – the force with which his body had slammed into yours, the way he knocked all air from your lungs and had your head spin, would have probably had you lose your balance. Not to mention the same fire you had seen in his gaze licking at your insides, having your body melt into his.

But he got your back. Always.

He never released the firm grip around your middle as his tongue easily gained access into your mouth, tasting every whimper he elicited from you as he walked you backwards to the couch, hard muscle of his thighs brushing against yours with every step, his semi-hard bulge pressing just above your pubic bone.

A breathless sound of his name escaped you as he freed your lips in favour of breathing, mouth never leaving your skin, trailing along your jaw.

Had you had the mental capacity, you’d have wondered whether his supersoldier ears had heard your conversation with JJ – but the fleeting thought flew out of the window the moment the world spun and you found yourself falling, Steve’s strong hands catching you, his thighs wedged between yours, having you naturally straddle him as he planted himself on the couch.

You had no damn idea what had gotten into him, but you weren’t about to question it.

The way his lips dominated yours had you tingle all over down to your fingertips, a crushing wave of heat stirring in your belly and flushing your core when his hips bucked just an inch up, his jeans-clad thighs meeting your own unwitting movements. Your hands found purchase of his shoulder and his hair, fingers sinking into his carefully combed silky strands. He sighed into your mouth contentedly as you did so, fingers flexing on your nape as he pulled you even closer, chest pressed to chest. When his hand inched lower, from the small of your back to the patch of skin just above the hem of your jeans, sliding under it and squeezing over the thin fabric of your panties, you were not proud of the sound that left your lips – but Steve didn’t seem to mind, his fingers flexing in your hair just enough to make you feel it and boost your confidence, but not enough to hurt.

Crumbling his shirt in a loose fist, you panted when his lips released you and his forehead lightly bumped into yours; his frantic breaths fanned over your face, hand moving back up again, drawing gentle circles on your back. Several pecks on your mouth, soft kisses peppered on your chin, on your cheek and along your jaw. You could feel his grip on you loosening, only making you grasp at him firmer, because it felt like whatever this had been was slipping from your fingers – as did he.

He gazed up at you and the sight of him – eyes wide with want, lips bruised, cheeks flushed – would be most precious hadn’t you sensed the lust slowly evaporating from between the two of you, Steve’s retreat drawing a thick line behind the outburst of passion. His lips traced a path down your throat, soft and soothing, warm, but not burning; he rested his forehead against your collarbone, having you tip your head back and nearly whine when his hnd respectively returned above the hem of your jeans.

As you gazed to the higher corner of the room, you felt tears of frustration and shame prickling your eyes. All the heat in your body morphed into embarrassment, the last drop to the figurative goblet of patience finally leading to an overflow.

“Why do we always do that?” you whispered soundlessly, your voice cracking on its edge.

Steve winced, head snapping up so quick he nearly knocked into your chin in the process; the lack of coordination spoke of just how taken aback he was by that question.

He stared at you, eyes wide, expression equally startled and pained. You gulped against the lump in your throat, squaring your shoulders to feign courage at least to yourself. Steve didn’t say a word, simply looking at you; at least he had the decency not to ask what you were talking about. That was both wonderful and awful, because on one hand, you were on the same page about something happening – on the other hand, you were on the same page about something happening.

His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, painfully soft, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he heard you suck in a harsh breath.

“How do we always end up here? I don’t… I don’t want to push you, I don’t want to push me. But I- is there something- is this about crossing some line, that we- you--- fuck,” you cursed as three hot droplets rolled down your cheeks, causing you to grit your teeth as you stomach flipped in shame. You angrily wiped the tears away, unable to meet Steve’s no doubt panicked gaze. Stop. You’re being ridiculous. “God-dammit, I wanted to talk about this and not break into damn tears, I don’t want to be that person—sorry, just, please, forget about this-“

You made to stand up and step back to retain some sort of dignity, because being a soppy mess – on both your face and in your underwear because god damn, Steve was such a skilful kisser and you craved his hands on you so much it was absurd – on top of him felt like anything but. He never let you; his grasp was gentle but unrelenting, much like the trap of his gaze you vainly tried to escape.

“That’s a little hard to forget,” he said lowly, every syllable sitting heavy on your chest – and from the look of it, on his too.

“Well… try,” you pleaded, fighting to gather your composure back, because Jesus, why on Earth were you crying, who even did that, were you into emotional manipulation now? And were you truly crying because your relationship wasn’t moving fast enough for your taste? Alright, that was oversimplification, but still, to shed tears over this was ridiculous and vile.

You knew Steve hated seeing you like this, you hated seeing him losing his composure too, and you had the situation been reversed, you’d do anything to turn his frown upside down. Anything. And so would he. You were so not in for a pity fuck that would, in addition to being a pity fuck, ruin everything.

Why did you have to open your big stupid mouth instead of basking in the fact you were finally with the man you were pining after for two long years? Why couldn’t you keep marvelling at the luck, the privilege not many people had to be with your friend, your love, your GG?

You just had to go and open the pandora box, didn’t you?

Shaking your head, you pressed against Steve’s shoulders, causing him to frown harder – you could see the conflict on his face. He didn’t want to let you go, sensing you were truly upset and knowing his touch tended to ground you and him, but at the same time, he wanted to respect your need for space. Because he was a sweetheart. He’d never hurt you and if you just talked to him, explained your side of things, calmly, he’d hear you out and you’d work things out.

JJ had been right – you and Steve did need to talk. But now, with the chest of insecure thoughts unlocked in your brain, was absolutely not the time. Especially not with the scene you had just made.

Jesus, Sparkles, get a grip.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m being absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled self-consciously, the sound tasting foreign on your lips. You didn’t even recognize the crazy person who burst in tears a minute ago. You wondered if any of your profiler friends would give you a scientific explanation for that. Probably Spence. Maybe Rossi, having had gone through three marriages. Then again Derek probably had the most experience with variety of relationships – though the reason for that was that they never lasted long. Maybe Emily would-

A tender touch on your jaw stopped the frantic train of your thoughts; you blinked, focusing your gaze back to Steve’s face.

“Hey… I doubt that, Sparkles. Tell me what’s wrong. Is this about earlier, at the bowling alley? When you and JJ disappeared for a bit and you were upset? What exactly do you mean by ending up here?”

The flicker of fiery anger in his irises had the corners of your lips twitch weakly, your heart fluttering. ‘Do I have a beef with someone for making my girl sad?’ he had said, his protective persona reappearing.

Steve would beat up anyone who’d try to touch you within the inch of their life and you loved that about him. The issue here, however, was that he’d need to beat up either you or himself.

You genuinely believed this wasn’t the best time to discuss this – but the sincerity in his voice had you make a U-turn. Perhaps there was no time like present; especially since whenever Steve encountered a problem, he was like a dog with a bone. He’d never let it go and even if he’d allow you to steer the conversation elsewhere, understanding you wanted more space to think about it first, he’d just lie awake all night, the gears in his head turning endlessly. That wasn’t fair; neither to you, nor to him.

You licked your lips, taking a wavering breath.

“I mean… us. This. Is it--- is it something I do? Something to make you uncomfortable?” you asked in a hushed whisper, Steve’s eyes now growing wide as saucers. “Or is it that we’ve been friends for too long? Do you—can you even--- see me as-“

Unsure how to finish your thought, you gestured vaguely along your body, nearly slapping his hand still resting on your hip in the process.

Steve’s watched you intently, clueless, seemingly wanting to ask twenty different questions about everything you just said, because you explained nothing. He settled at the most obvious thing.

“See you as…?” he raised his low voice into a question and you bit your cheek, embarrassment eating up all your words.

See you as a woman? Too vague. As an object of desire? Steve would not have it, you even implying you could be an object, even if that was just how the collocation went. A romantic partner wasn’t quite cutting it, a fuck buddy wasn’t the correct term and a set of holes, now that was just unnecessarily crude. Asking him if he ever wanted to sleep with you or have sex with you just sounded basic and blunt and his eyes was still roaming your face and-

Oh.

You could tell the exact millisecond the synapses in the beautiful brain of his sent the signal one to another to create the right image you were trying to paint so clumsily. You could tell because his eyebrows jumped high for a brief moment, before his expression changed into one of intense focus—oh god.

“Wait, so… let me clear something up. You are asking about why I don’t push further in our physical relationship?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, victorious and little desperate at once because there was no going back now. Courage, Jones. Like ripping off a band-aid. “Well… I guess I’m kinda asking—and this sounds awful, but is it you or is it me? Because I’m fine with slow!” Kinda. “I’m just--- we always start and then we stop and I… I can’t but wonder the stopping part is because of something I do, or something we are or have been, or if you feel… pressured into something you don’t want to do or… something…”

You trailed off, voice growing smaller and smaller under his searching gaze as did your vast vocabulary, until you couldn’t bear it and averted his eyes, pretending to find the way his navy-blue shirt contrasted against the creamy couch incredibly fascinating.

You were granted full five seconds before Steve decided – as you knew he eventually would – that he wouldn’t have it. The pads of his fingers applied the tinniest pressure to your chin, guiding you to look back at him; your eyes stubbornly stayed on the buttons of his shirt, until his thumb brushed over your swollen lower lip and your gaze met his at last.

“Sparkles… do you think that I don’t want you?” he asked slowly, so brilliantly baffled that your first instinct was to deny it.

“No! Of course not! It’s not that-- I mean--- I don’t- I don’t know…?”

His eyes softened, regret lacing the warm blue of his irises and you felt the suffocating weight in your lungs grow. Oh no. He pitied you. He thought you were an idiot and an oversensitive hysterical woman he had not signed up to date and you really needed to stop straddling him at least-

“Would you stop trying to get away from me, woman,” Steve huffed exasperatedly, his hands on your shoulder and hip growing firmer again. Not an unescapable cage, because your boyfriend was considerate to a fault, but tight enough to signal how much he wanted you to stay. Until he opened his mouth and made you want to climb out of his lap straight onto the floor in hopes for the carpet to swallow you. “Well, I admit, that is a little absurd--- stay where you are. Please. This is important, we need to talk about this.”

Fine. Fine. You stuck your chin up, crossing your arms on your chest, making Steve drop his hands to his sides. You only barely missed the way Steve’s lips twitched at your defiant gesture and sudden attitude.

You had to give it to him, however – you were much calmer. Somehow, he had managed to steer the tone of the conversation towards the way you usually communicated and despite the absolutely horrid topic of discussion, your insecurity and fear fell quiet, remaining nothing but a whisper in the very back of your mind.

“Okay, Mr. That Is A Little Absurd. Then how is it that you joked about leaving a mark just about anywhere almost a month ago and we didn’t make it past a hickey on my neck where marks are concerned and you never let me…” you paused, licking your lips, thinking about an appropriate way to address the issue of you having been the only to get off so far, “…touch you?”

A sad smile passed over his lips; this time, it was him who briefly lowered his gaze as if bashful.

“Well, you once said that my recklessness is in direct proportion with my ability to heal and… maybe you were a little right.” You couldn’t help it – your eyebrows arched, which didn’t seem to faze him, his hand finding its way to your thigh. “But not with you, Sparkles. I can’t afford to be reckless with you.”

You gulped, defiance leaving you in an instant, your heart touched by the display of vulnerability. But at the same time, you were completely at loss as to what on Earth he could mean by that.

He couldn’t be honestly afraid of accidentally getting you pregnant; for one, you knew for a fact Steve would handle the situation like a man and a champ, and for two, despite what Tony thought, the man out of time was well-aware of contraceptives, you were friends for long enough to know that. However, not being careful about that was about as far as your imagination went when associating the words reckless and sex.

“Reckless how?” you questioned softly, frowning as the gears in your brain turned and turned.

“I don’t want you to think I’m only after… that.”

Say what.

“GG, I would never think that of you,” you chuckled incredulously, thinking for a moment that he was making up a bullshit excuse – except his face was perfectly serious and he shrugged, nothing but sincerity written in his expression.

“Well, it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s not like that never happens, is it?”

Oh.

The memory hit you with surprising force and clarity – one of the rare off nights for the Avengers Steve insisted you should come for, maybe four, five months ago, plenty of alcohol and a silly game of truth or dare. It was Tony’s turn--- no Clint’s and you had picked a truth.

‘Aaalright, Johny-Jones, tell us about… your nemesis. Past or now—present. Go.’

It had taken you a minute and since you had apparently not been allowed to get philosophical and say that your nemesis was yourself at times, you picked Ryan. You both had been FBI in training and you had been an idiot, blinded by the fact a handsome guy whom you had sometimes competed against actually wanted you. You had thought it had been about passion; and in a way it had. Two weeks later, the night he had got his dick wet – you remembered now, that had been the exact phrase you used during the Avengers game night – he had been out of the door and then bragged about it, laughing in your face at any chance he had got. By the blessings of karma, he had had little to brag about when he had later failed psych eval necessary to sign up for the Profiling 101 course. You, on the other hand, had got in, never having to see that jerk again.

Only now when Steve indirectly pointed it out, you recalled that your GG had seemed to be particularly protective over you for the rest of the night and for the weeks that had followed.

Because he was always there, ready to defend you, to protect you from harm; should it be inflicted by others or himself.

Suddenly, your eyes burned for a different reason, your stomach tight with emotion as sweet as heavy. In the back of your mind, you cursed Ryan, the insignificant asshole of a man, for creeping into your life years later and adding to the small crisis in your current relationship. Relationship that was nothing like the one with him. It would have never even crossed your mind that Steve could be after getting his dick wet in your honey pot; the idea was more than just a little absurd considering the man you knew he was. But his supersoldier brain with eidetic memory worried it might have – because it had happened to you before.

He watched you for long moments, patiently letting you process. You didn’t know whether to kiss him senseless or smack some sense into him, because how could he even think that was an issue? Just about everything he had ever done for you without a promise of anything more than friendship solidified the notion of him being ridiculously virtuous long time ago. You knew in your very core that he was a good man.

Your man.

“Steve…”

“I don’t… I didn’t say that to be jerk. I just… I want to make you feel good and I want you to know you’re more to me than that. And I want to make sure I give before I take.”

Sweet mother of-

­“Oh GG, but you’re already doing that, always! And-” You gulped, unable to say the word sex for some reason. “And it’s not always that I, uhm, I give you one and you give me one back and vice versa. It’s about making each other feel good, giving what the other needs… right? Making them feel loved.”

Look at you, suddenly being a relationship expert when you couldn’t get your shit together for the past few days.

Steve’s fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair, regret returning to his eyes.

“I never meant to make you feel like I don’t want you,” he whispered, fingertips brushing along your jaw, stopping an inch from your lips. “I do. You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart. The things I’d do for you, to you. I just… and you’re you. You’re perfect.”

If your heart skipped a beat at the implication of what he wanted to do to you, heat filled your cheeks when he even suggested you might be perfect even as you barely held back a snort.

Perfect. Right.

“I am most definitely not.”

But Steve just tilted his head to side, the charming bastard, that expressive blue of his eyes telling you not to dare and argue about how he apparently saw you.

Perfect.

It was just a stupid word, but damn, talk about pressure. It was a little hard to live up to the image when you were on a pedestal and maybe you had felt that too. Just another reason for why you didn’t exactly push Steve into crossing the line – because if you were being honest with yourself, even though Steve wasn’t the perfect human being, he was perfect for you and you wouldn’t want him to be disappointed when you’d get to be together that way. It was entirely reasonable for him to feel the same.

You could understand if he was worried about living up to expectations. You could understand if he wanted to make it perfect for you too. You could understand why he latched onto the thought of some lowlife who had once made you feel like you were nothing but a piece of meat and wanted to make sure you never had to feel like that ever again.

Tears welled up in your eyes, your breathing wavering. If you weren’t feeling like suffocating under the devastating affection behind Steve’s words, you’d scream in frustration, because you could have got this out of the way weeks ago, if you just communicated like two adults.

“It doesn’t help that I’m strong and sometimes I fail to be in control of that hundred percent,” Steve added, quickly following up when he saw you wanted to protest. “And I know you know that, just like you know I’d never want to hurt you, but if I get lost in you… I might. I never felt the way about anyone, not like I do with you, Sparkles.”

Overwhelmed by the direction the conversation took, into a perhaps strange, but possibly one of the most thoughtful declarations of love, it slowly dawned to you – much to your brief annoyance – that JJ had been right, again.

‘And what do you think are the chances that he feels just the same? I’d bet he thinks you’re the best damn woman and he really really doesn’t want to fuck it up either…’

You were two peas in a pot who ultimately just wanted for the other to be happy and comfortable but somehow forgot to mention it.

“So you… basically, you don’t want me to feel pressured, just like I don’t want you to feel pressured and you don’t want to hurt me and I don’t want to hurt you?” you piped up, earning a lopsided sad smile. “You just don’t want to mess it up just like I do?”

“Looks like.”

You let your forehead hit his lightly and he met you halfway, your eyelids sliding shut. Relief flooded your system in equal measure with exasperation, wining over just by nose.

“God, GG, we’re both idiots.”

His breathy chuckle tickled your face, his hands cradling your head. “Yeah… but you’re my idiot. Beautiful, considerate idiot-- no, all but the idiot part. You’re brilliant, Sparkles.”

You huffed, opening your eyes, mesmerized by the way he looked at you – as if he meant every word.

“Beg to differ, but anyway. Pot, kettle.”

Steve smiled, his nose gently caressing yours before he retreated an inch. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And I do want you,” he emphasized, no farther than a breath from your lips. “So much.”

“Noted. And… ditto.”

“And I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, “that’d be nice, that sounds really-”

You never got to finish your sentence, silenced by his lips. You didn’t think you ever had been happier about someone not letting you say your part, never felt so calm despite excitement bursting in your chest. You were in Steve’s loving arms and he wanted you – there was nothing in the world you weren’t going to work through, let alone such small bump on the road.

You revelled in the taste of his smile and in the way his palm warmed your thigh even through your jeans. Parting your lips and yielding to his gentle advances with a sigh, all tension melted from your body, having you slide lower in his lap and catch yourself against his firm chest. A pleased rumble vibrated under your palms, large hand splaying over your back to press you closer to him even as the kiss grew more demanding, your pliant body bending backwards to accommodate Steve’s strength. His free hand gripped at the base of your neck to keep you still, a surge of arousal and confidence straight to your veins and muscles, nerves set on pleasant fire. You sunk your fingers into his hair again, body wrapping around his.

It had to be what he was waiting for, because a second later your found yourself in the air, clinging to Steve’s torso as his arm moved under your ass and hauled you up. The silent yelp of surprise was drowned in his mouth, your stomach flipping as you instinctively locked your ankles around his middle. You couldn’t care less where he carried you as long as he kept kissing you like that, but the direction he was heading was unmistakable.

At least you thought so until your back met the wall, eliciting a gasp from your lips, the bed flashing in the corner of your vision several feet too far. Your fingers dug into Steve’s bicep, clutching in his hair, heat pooling in your core. Oh god.

Oh the countless times you fantasized about this. Steve pinning you to the wall in a show of strength unmatched to another man, radiating heat and grabbing you like he couldn’t get close enough, tongue licking into your mouth as if he wished he could explore the depths of your soul and suck it right out of you.

The breathy ‘Steve’ when he retreated half an inch had to sound downright pornographic but you didn’t give a damn, because he wanted you, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him… right?

“You tell me if I do anything you don’t want or like?” he demanded, wording it like an order rather than a question, but your brain searched for a hidden meaning anyway, overanalysing even as you were slipping into kiss-drunken slumber.

You tell me. Anything you don’t like.

You shook your head, an echo of doubt guiding your fingers to cover Steve’s mouth and push him away.

Getting a first look on him ever since he lifted you, your mouth went positively dry despite the mouth-watering sight he made; his pupils were like smouldering coal and as much as you loved seeing soft affection in his eyes, you never wanted him to look at you any different that this ever again. He looked like he could eat you alive and have you begging for more. Even if his brows furrowed momentarily.

Focus, focus, Jones, you had an important thought.

“GG, wait. Don’t do this because you feel like you need to prove me something. We have time and we’ll figure it out, we… we can wait.”

HIs concern melted away, forehead narrowing, a sweet smile forming under your fingers before a kiss made you withdraw your hand and shut up.

His smile turned baffled – and then dangerous.

“That’s… really not why I want to do this,” he assured you, his voice dripping of amusement and something deliciously dark.

“Oh really?” you retorted, cheeky and unimpressed, ignoring (not) your position. “Because you never rise to a challenge.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but Sparkles…” he muttered, shaking his head and huffing a silent laugh that quickly turned devious when his body pressed against you so firmly that his hands completely released your body and you whimpered a silent oh my god because that was just his hips holding you against the wall and it should be scary but instead you just felt a shudder run up your spine knowing he would never drop you but that was the sheer weight of his body pinning you to the wall and you could probably let go of the death grip on his shoulders and waist and you still wouldn’t fall.

Those ridiculously warm hands of his cradled your face as you panted and licked your lips, Steve’s eyes flickering down to follow the movement and then stealing your breath altogether with a soft kiss that was everything you could want and yet not even close to what you needed. Your eyes slipped close but you could imagine what the scene looked like; you could feel his gaze on you, watching you with affection and heat, like something precious and his. And his you were, absolutely, he had no idea-

Wait, he was talking, he was trying to make a point--- what had you been talking about?

“Do you have any idea how long…“ he spoke directly to your mouth, one hand slipping lower, the pad of his thumb petting the hollow of your throat lovingly, leaving you unable to stiffen the moan bubbling right under his touch, “-how much I wanted this? Wanted you?”

“Steve-“

“I don’t want to ‘do this’ because it’s some challenge for me. Do you want to know why I do though?” he whispered, lips straying from yours, tracing the line of your jaw, hand sliding down your waist to your thigh as whoever was in control of your body had you nod frantically, earning a smile against your neck. “I want to do this to you because you loved being on the winning team today. So damn cheeky, enjoying getting one up on me.”

You giggled at the truth of his words, the sound turning breathy when Steve’s teeth nipped on your pulse point, your hips bucking forward despite having no space to do so in search for friction. Steve’s fingers flexed on your thigh at the futile attempt, a hiss escaping his lips when you tried to wiggle against his hard-on.

“I want you because there were so many guys just gawking at you tonight, but you were looking at me and you looked like you wanted me too.”

“I did—I do,“ you breathed out, all doubts and insecurities forgotten.

He was making very compelling arguments and the fleeting idea that this could have been some act of simply proving a point was long gone, poured down the drain of absurdity. Forget about that. You needed Steve. You needed him to do something, anything more than this and you needed it now.

“And then you kissed me like no one was watching, but I knew about every single jerk looking our direction wishing they were in my place.”

“Oh yeah, tons of them, I bet-“ you muttered sarcastically, but somehow, with his nimble fingers sneaking under the strap of your bra and letting it snap back lightly, your words sounded more like a confirmation when you whimpered.

When his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, you were sure he was going to make you come just like that, with his words, his hands on your body and his tongue licking at your collarbone.

Jesus Christ-

“Uh-huh. I want you because these damn jeans leave nothing to imagination but I imagined what you’re wearing under them anyway. And my head is fuckin’ full of your perfume I want to taste it as it clings to your skin when you wear absolutely nothing and I want to still smell it when you wear my shirt the morning after.”

Yes, yes, you wanted that too, like yesterday was too late already-

“I want you because that little dance of yours had me so fucking hard I almost took you right there in front of everyone.”

“GG, stop talking and kiss me,” you begged him because truly, truly, you were convinced, utterly and unchangeably, now if he could just get to it and sooth the liquid fire your insides turned into, that would be just wonderful. A+ for his dirty talk, but-

He ignored your plea, glancing up, eyes hungry, lips swollen and impossibly red when he smirked.

“I want you because you make me imagine doing things that are everything but gentle,” he corrected you darkly, fingertips tracing the soft skin of your breast just under the cut of your shirt, tickly in the most delicious way. “Some punk kid at the bar tried to touch your ass today and I wanted to break his hand. Six days ago, at your first full training after recovery, Rodriguez held nothing back despite his instruction and I had to send Natasha to deal with him because I would have broken his hand, I’d rip it right fucking off because he hurt you.”

Through the fog of arousal, you recalled the training in question. Rodriguez had got you in the ribs good, even if you had barely felt it the next day. Steve had been furious, but he always was; even as your friend he had hated seeing you hurt, it was one of the things that both warmed your heart and made the butterflies in your stomach flip their wings like crazy, made your core throb long before you professed your love to each other, even if a completely different way than he was doing it now.

All his admissions made for a tremble in your muscles, a race in your heart; he was whispering his sins into your skin as if your body was a confessional and with every kiss he was asking for absolution. A thoroughly good man asking absolution for his wrath and lust and greed. Everyone who knew Steve Rogers even in passing knew all about his giving nature – and the way he had your body sing made him seem plenty generous. But his lips, tasting every inch of bare skin and marking his claim, his hands gripping you so hard it bordered on painful, these were nothing short of greedy, as were his words.

“No one touches you. No one hurts you. I want you and I want to do unthinkable things to you, over and over, just so all you know is my name and I want you to say it, whisper it or scream it until you can’t anymore.”

“Steve, please-“

“This is why I want to do this and I want it so much it’s driving me insane. You drive me insane,” he accused you fondly, lips detached from your skin at last as he levelled his face with yours. “It feels impossible to hold back sometimes.”

Here was the frustration joke: you didn’t want him to hold back. You were left breathless, speechless, molten lava coursing through your veins and the sight of him, face flushed, pupils blown wide, his breaths coming out short only fed your unbearable hunger. You could almost feel him tremble against you and you knew it wasn’t from the strain of holding you up against the wall – it was from the effort not to snap.

How he wasn’t fucking you six ways into Sunday already and managed to keep composure after everything he just confessed to was beyond you. And he was still talking, a raspy warning that had the opposite effect than intended – because instead of wanting to put the fire out, you wanted to pour gasoline all over it.

“This is how I want you and how much I want you. But I must not scare you away, Sparkles. You’re too important. I need you to say yes, I need you to tell me you want this too and I need you to promise me to tell me to stop if I go too far.”

Oh you could tell him yes and make all the promises he wanted. As soon as you’d find your voice. As soon as you’d figure where the gasoline and matches were.

“I don’t scare easily, Steve,” you whispered, a sound so choked one would think you he already had you scream his name over and over.

Licking your lips, you willed your fingers to pet the soft material of his shirt as it strained over his shoulders, a minute tremble in them as you undid the first button. Steve’s Adam’s apple bobbed, but he stood tall, endlessly patient. The self-control on the man. You couldn’t wait to push just a little more to see it burn to dust.

“And if I ever get afraid, I have you to protect me, don’t I?” you taunted, undoing the second button, then the third, leaning in to kiss the newly exposed skin, a faint taste of sweat on your tongue.

You barely bit back a smile as his chest expanded with a rapid inhale. You loved the effect you had on him, your words – however true – intentionally playing into the role of a protector you knew was important to him and made him preen.

“You’d never let anyone hurt me. I trust you.”

With the fourth button, you found yourself with not enough space to continue. That was fine. You kissed your way up his sternum over the hollow of his throat until you found his lips, parted, hot and eager to receive – a kiss, another compliment. You let your hands appreciate the expanse of his chest, his biceps, his broad shoulders; you weren’t sure if the moan came from you or him. Maybe both.

“I know you would never hurt me, not for a lack of strength… but you can use that strength too. I won’t break, unless it’s for you,” you promised, whispering straight to his lips, satisfied at the groan it drew from his throat. “I want you to do everything you want to do to me.”

“Sparkles…”

You withdrew as much as the wall behind you allowed, taking care to look directly in his dark eyes. You hoped you spoke with conviction – and enough of an innocent smile, even if on the inside, you were smirking.

“And I know I’m more to you than a piece of meat. You’re nothing like… them. You’re a good man, Steve, a smart man. My man… my Captain.”

The last one was a stretch, a bold guess based on loose observation; you held your breath in anticipation as three long seconds of silent stillness followed, your words sinking in.

But then, the effect was immediate.

Steve’s body slammed into yours with ferocity that knocked the wind out of you, a movement so fierce you were worried you might crash through the wall straight into the next room. His mouth slanted over yours with a beautiful animalistic sound, an unapologetic claim with no regard of giving before taking. A bruising grip on your thighs, a minute retreat of his hips just so he could rock them back against your drenched core, having you clench around nothing and wishing for a breath just so you could beg to have something in there instead.

Your futile attempt to speak up was cut off by a nip of teeth on your lower lip, Steve long fingers stretching over your ass to press mere inches from your lower lips and making you keen in relief and need.

“You just fucking love pushing my buttons, don’t you,” he grunted, his other hand sneaking under your blouse and squeezing your ribs on the side of your breast.

Not giving you a chance to confirm nor deny, he claimed dominance over your mouth again as soon as you breathed in.

The tips of his fingers were barely touching you where you craved him, but with every second you felt yourself climbing higher and higher, gasping when the pressure suddenly disappeared, a chuckle rambling in his chest pressing against your breasts.

“Oh no you don’t.”

His hands settled on your waist, firm, lips moving to your ear, nipping on your earlobe. “You know me so damn well, sweetheart. But guess what… if you think you can play me as you wish, think again.”

The sound you made couldn’t have been human, a frustrated whimper and a plea. Your whole body was on fire, melting like butter and sinking into his rich honey-like voice wrapping your senses in the delicious threat that followed.  

“‘Cause I don’t know you nearly well enough so I’m gonna take my sweet time learning about every inch of your body and every little thing that makes you sing before I give you what you need.”

Your head spun with a rapid movement – around and backwards you thought – the support behind your back gone for a moment and then suddenly there was no support at all. You couldn’t fly for longer than a second but you yelped anyway, the sound drowned in the cushions of the bed you safely landed in.

“GG!”

Vice-like grips on your ankles and you were being pulled until your legs hung down the bed and a hot wet kiss was pressed under your belly button, blouse racked up to your rapidly rising and falling chest.

Holy fucking shit, you weren’t sure what the hottest part of this was – the show of strength, the safety you felt despite the insanity he just pulled off, or the fact he was literally kneeling between your legs and his dextrous fingers already undid the button and the fly of your jeans and were working their way up your ribcage, exploring just as eagerly as his mouth. Your back arched under his touch when his teeth grazed just under the hem of your bra, providing him with the perfect opportunity to undo the clasps and push the offending piece of clothing out of the way.

You felt like you were about to explode any second, but Steve, while eager, was in no rush. He was like a reverent believer finally discovering the temple of the only god he ever worshipped for the first time. The way his hand supported your shoulder blades as he nuzzled your breast, nosing his way over the sensitive skin and licking at the peeked nipple filled you with impatience, pride and affection at once.

You had a non-selfish lover before, but you had never experienced something more sensual than this. You had never had a man make love to your body. Steve treated it as a piece of art and under his touch, you felt like a damn masterpiece.

He didn’t have to ask you to get rid of what stood in his way, but he appreciated the newly exposed skin with a pleased hum despite the clumsy way you managed to strip your tops with; pressing a little harder, sucking the flesh of your breast with enough fervour to leave a mark.

The oh my god, Steve- left your lips as a whine. Your limp hands found purchase of his hair, pulling him up to steal a kiss from those sinful lips. He followed willingly, stretching his body over yours, catching himself on his hand – but your felt the brush of his rock-hard cock against your core anyway and your hips tilted up, searching for the much-needed friction.

He groaned into the filthy kiss, his uncompromising hand pushing your hip back into the cushions.

“Steeve-“

Screw taking his sweet time. You felt like crying from how he worshipped you but some of the suffocating sensation most definitely stemmed from the sheer frustration of not being fucked into the mattress relentlessly yet. You released his hair in order to work the buttons of his damn shirt, barely managing to undo them with your shaky fingers, sighing in bliss when you got to touch the hot skin of his abdomen you drooled over for almost two years now.

“I want you so damn much-“ he whispered to your lips before he freed you, mouth tracing a hot path down your throat and sternum, lower and lower, fingertips trailing behind as the desperate words tumbled out before you could stop them.

“Then take me.”

The loveable bastard smiled, teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above the hem of your jeans, nimble fingers slipping under the denim and finally ridding you of the atrocious piece of clothing you were sure must have been soaked through at this point too. Regretfully, his touch disappeared so he could strip the jeans fully but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make as long as it moved things forward.

Much like when he had helped you lose your shoes the day you were released form the med bay four weeks ago, his red-hot palm cradled your calf. Except this time, a kiss landed just above your knee, coaxing your legs apart with the lightest pressure, muttering into your skin as he torturously slowly made his way up.

“Loved you for so long, imagined having you in so many ways…” he groaned, almost pained, and you couldn’t but glance at him, all curses you ever known on your tongue but none on them making it out as you white-knuckled the sheets.

The sight of Steve between your spread legs was going to be the death of you. You couldn’t imagine a better way to go except maybe if he touched you where you needed him the most before you went.

“Anything-” you choked out. Everything. He was mere three inches from your dripping centre and you were ready to sell your soul to the Devil for him to just move.

You didn’t have any brain space left to be self-conscious about him inhaling the heady aroma of your sex, not when the burning gaze you had met settled on his prize with unabashed hunger.

“God, look at you, you’re dripping for me. Gonna love on you, Sparkles…”

“Yes, please-“

He chuckled, the huff of hot air teasing your core over the useless fabric of your underwear. “Look at you, you little tease, so polite all of sudden…”

You didn’t get as much as a second to call him a smug bastard; with one sharp tug, your panties were gone and the tip of his tongue dipped into your soaked lips. His moan vibrated through your whole body, echoing the cry of his name.

“Steve-”

“Fuck, sweetheart-“ was all he said before he dived in deep, pushing your legs further apart to accommodate his broad shoulders.

His nose bumped into your oversensitive clit, his tongue gathering your essence off your lips before pushing between them and making you back out from the sensual assault even as you didn’t know whether you wanted to escape or lean into it. The forearm suddenly laying over your hips prevented you from either and left you with no option but to take it – even if it should kill you.

So be it. You could make peace with such fate.

Grabbing after Steve’s hair, you reached the starry highs embarrassingly fast with no more than one finger in pressing just right and Steve’s lips sucking on your clit – and a sob vaguely resembling his name on your lips.

Your body shook with the aftershocks as your lover licked at every drop, easing the pressure on your belly to let you ride it out. Your ears were still ringing when the first of his whispers crept into your consciousness, a husky voice full of affection, pads of his thumbs drawing soothing circles above your hipbones.

“Beautiful, so beautiful… always so pretty when you fall apart for me.”

Your vision was blurry as you stared at the ceiling, panting, heart hammering as if you just fought off an army of mercenaries. Steve’s soft lips travelled up your body, leaving a sticky trail in their wake, lingering anywhere they deemed fit.

His messy hair appeared in your vision first, a kiss landing on your jaw. You still couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t move, coming down from the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced.

Until a delighted chuckle reached your ears, your gaze focusing on Steve’s dark gaze shining with thousand stars.

“Oh, is this a way to shut your smart mouth, Sparkles?”

Shut my brain, more like, you wanted to say, but the only thing you managed was a small grumble, a blissed-out sound too tiny to have him believe you were mad. As if you could ever be mad at him for that.

“GG-“

He chuckled again, leaning in to kiss your lips, gentle at first, until you moaned at the bittersweet tang of your own juices and his fingers tangled in your damp hair, his warm weight covering you like a blanket. You were surprised when you felt two hot tears roll down your temples into your hair – and you weren’t the only one.

Steve freed your lips with a wet pop, his flushed face full of concern.

“You good?”

You huffed a laugh, blinking frantically as to stop more tears from coming.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’s not that it was that bad it made me cry-” you teased him lightly, chest so full of feeling you were no longer surprised your body needed to release the pressure somehow. “But also don’t let it go into your head too much-“

Steve shut your smart mouth again, clearly reassured, his lips tasting of victory and pride this time. You couldn’t really hold it against him – he literally gave you an orgasm so good it made you cry.

And you still wanted more.

He already gave and now it was time to take, but he sure had made it feel like you weren’t the only one receiving when he was giving. It was sweet. It was empowering. It made you feel thoroughly loved, even if he was still being a little shit.

You grabbed the opportunity to finally appreciate his toned stomach, revelling in the sensation of his muscles shifting under your palms, one of your hands moving to give some attention to his pectorals too.

He liked that, if the small sound in the back of his throat and the breath of your name was anything to go by. It was the perfect prompt to explore further. And boy, you did.

His body was downright unreal. Yet never had anything felt so real as the warm humming power under your touch, smooth and slightly damp skin stretching over the delicious dips and valleys, rising with every inhale. You doubted you’d let you have your time with him now – he felt heavy and hard against your belly, so much it had to be painful, and his mouth kept your own busy enough – but soon, you’d trace the same lines your fingers were drawing on his chiselled torso with your tongue instead and then would move onto his biceps, grazing the prominent vein leading down his arm with your teeth.

The prospect fuelled your arousal, impatient hands sliding under the opened shirt into his sleeves, pushing at the fabric, whining upon feeling his bulging biceps. Those were the arms that held you against the wall. Those were the arms that tossed you around like you were nothing. Those were the arms that would rip apart anyone who’d try to hurt you.

“Get this damn thing off,” you cursed, for the first time realizing you were there lying completely naked and Steve had at least three pieces of unnecessary clothing still on.

He obliged with a hum, breaking your kiss as he balanced himself on his knees instead of his forearms. You took advantage of his momentary occupied hands and of the sudden space to take initiative, palming the prominent bulge straining the seams of his jeans. The most beautifully broken groan was your reward; you couldn’t wait to hear it again, making a quick work of unbuckling his belt before his infamous supersoldier reflexes could even kick in, his hands still tangled in his shirt. Once freed, he cradled your face and pressed your back to the bed with renewed eagerness.

You were fine with one hand on his bare skin and the other pushing his jeans down, all that while his tongue tangled with yours. You were still an agent; one feeling a little boneless after orgasmic high, but still a very efficient AI agent. You could multitask. If Steve overwhelmed all your senses, hot and throbbing in your hand, his cologne and the tang of sex and sweat filling your nostrils, his choked moan echoing in your ears once you freed him, you were more than able to process all that at once too.

In fact, the head of his cock nudging at your slit was the perfect cherry on top of it all the sensations and he seemed to agree. Until he realized it all felt all too good and retreated with a curse.

“Wait, love, I have to-“

You shook your head and pulled him back for another kiss. You were covered, so to speak and honestly you had no other protection at hand and the mere notion of stopping now was unthinkable. Honestly the fact he said I have to, taking the responsibility on himself, was the last touch to your decision.

“Pill. Clean. Please.” Just fill me.

His lust-filled eyes roamed your face for long seconds, whatever argument happening in his head cut off when you let your fingers curl around his length and pumped him, thumb stroking over the leaking head of his cock.

“Yeah, okay-- God- THAT.”

You grinned to yourself smugly, angling your hips for him to slide in. You were still so wet for him you knew it wouldn’t be an issue – even if his grith certainly would be a challenge and maybe you were going to regret your hastiness tomorrow… today.

Or not at all.

He went slow. Shallow languid thrusts, sweetened by deep kisses and praise spilling from his lips, giving way with a gently tightening knot in your belly instead of pain. Fingers interlaced with yours next to your head, drinking gasps and moans of pleasure from each other’s’ lips. A voiceless fuck give me a moment, you’re so tight, I can’t-, a glorious view of Steve’s face contorted in pleasure and reverence.

‘I love you’ whispered straight to your mouth once he settled all way in, filling you up to a point you thought you’d combust and thank him for it.

“Love you, GG. I didn’t mean to push you.”

You had no clue why you said that, but Steve didn’t give you a chance to panic, a breathy laugh shaking his chest, nose nudging yours. The image would be magnificent at any given time, but the circumstance gave the it an intimate aura of a secret thing shared between you two only.

“You only push my buttons all the time,” he hushed you, causing you to chuckle and whimper when he experimentally moved back and forth, clearly deeming you ready – and by lord, were you ready, every drag of his length nothing short of delicious, stoking the fire in your belly. “And please notice I participate pretty enthusiastically--- fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

You noticed.

You appreciated the hell out of every ounce of self-control Steve had shown just a few minutes ago in order not to hurt you – but seeing the cracks in foundation opening and releasing the same man who pinned you to the wall was a hypnotic sight. His gentle touch morphing into grasps and squeezes, soft kisses and encouragement blending into claims and filthy praise. Arms having created a sense of safety wrapping around you tighter to keep you in place, fingers clutching at your hair not to hurt but to prevent you from escaping his advances. Flesh slapping flesh with every thrust, his pubic bone brushing your clit. The rubber band tightening in your belly threatening to snap with every word whispered gravely to your skin, to your mouth.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to be mine-”

“I am. Always yours,” you gasped, your voice cracking when his hand slipped under the small of your back, the change of angle making you stifle a moan, nails digging into his biceps.

“Damn right. Will keep you like this all night, take you over and over until you can’t think of anything else but my name and how it feels when I fill you up…”

As he rose to his knees, making you prop up on your heels, thighs shaky with exertion, you were more than grateful for his support; more so since your bones felt as if they have turned into molasses at this point.

“All night, every night. Every day, every fucking chance we get,” he promised feverishly.

The moan that spilled from your lips was obscene, but so were Steve’s words.

In a forgotten rational part of your brain, you understood what he had meant by scaring you off – thinking this would be too much. But damn, your lust-drunk mind had never heard a better idea in your life—this, this, you wanted more, you wanted everything he said. You needed him to break you just to put you together again, because you were his, his, his and you wanted him to claim you just like this, unapologetically, brushing the depths of you with every stroke, making you ache for him long before, during and long after--- you’d never get enough.

“Oh you want that?” he hummed with wicked glee as he felt you clench around him, fingers quick to gather your slick and circle your oversensitive bundle of nerves, rippling a mindless cry of please from your throat. “You really are mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Steve--- so close-”

“Yeah, I’m here, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

Never ceasing the attention to your clit or his frantic thrusts, Steve’s burning palm laid over your belly in a silent claim – and you were done for.

Chanting his name over and over as he rode it out with you, you almost missed the string of curses under his breath, his pace growing erratic, his hold on your turning bruising.

“Shit, doll, that’s it, that’s it--- fuck, look at you.”

Your walls fluttered around him again. Eyes snapping wide open, you caught him in a moment of utter bliss, crimson lips parted with a guttural moan of your name, messy hair sticking to his forehead, that unreal body having gone rigid as he spilled inside of you, nothing but small frantic motions of his hips as he prolonged his pleasure. With you. In you. You did that.

This was an image and feeling you’d remember forever – and planned to relive it many, many times to come.

A barely noticeable tremble to his muscles – you did that, the pleasure with you rendered a supersoldier boneless – he slowly, oh so slowly pulled out with a whimper on your part. You felt his seed spill down your sensitive lips as he lowered your almost limp body to the mattress, biting back another sound when the feeling sent a pleasant shudder up your spine.

Eyes fluttering open, Steve’s gaze trailed over your spent body before settling on your face, charming an exhausted but utterly satisfied smile for you. Stretching his warm body over yours, your hands instantly finding purchase of his broad shoulders, he graced you with a soft kiss to your lips, fingers carding through your hair. That was definitely a thing for him – and you couldn’t complain; you only catalogued it for a future reference, sighing contentedly into his mouth, appreciating the firm expanse of his back under your palms, the brush of rock-solid thighs against yours.

Your breath hitched when your brain registered another very solid part of his body, the small sound having Steve release your lips.

“Are you okay?” he fussed sweetly, your momentarily broken mind unable to appreciate the sentiment.

That’s not possible. That’s not how-

Your throat, already hoarse from crying Steve’s name repeatedly, turned sand-paper dry – or at least your choked voice sounded as if it did. You clenched your hand into fist to stop the urge to check what your mind had trouble to comprehend.

“GG, are you still…?“

Steve whole body radiated unnatural warmth more than usual already – but his face turned into a furnace as his forehead rested against yours, eyes closing.

“Serum. Not still… again,” he admitted reluctantly, having your racing heart skip a startled and giddy beat. Your body went stiff.

Oh. Okay. Right, right, right- That was fine. That realization didn’t feel like someone just rearranged your guts and had tingles run through your whole body. The prospect of this absolute god of a man ,who had got you off in ways all your past lovers combined could never, being able to do it all over again did not short-circuit all your rational thoughts. At all.

Steve most definitely misinterpreted your stunned silence as something else than positively horny.

“Just… give me a moment,” he muttered almost apologetically, loving lips pressing to your mouth, then your forehead. “I’ll get something to clean us up in a minute.”

Yeah, no.

Licking your lips, you feasted your eyes on Steve’s worn features, fingers sliding to down his hair to scratch soothingly at his nape. Bashful smile appeared on his lips, briefly brushing yours before he went to rise from the position on his elbows.

You were quick to wrap your leg around his gloriously pulp ass, his eyes snapping open in surprise.

“Stay a little longer?” you offered softly, heart racing against your ribcage as your plan to seduce him again slowly formed in your head. “If that’s okay… please?”

“I’m whipped, aren’t I,” he chuckled breathily, but obliged, earning a bright smile from you and kiss on his nose that made him laugh feebly, the lines of his abs and his hardness brushing against your stomach, enticing you to let your fingers wander.

Wander over the solid strings of muscle on his back, over his shoulders, that damn vein on his arm just calling out for you, over his ribcage expanding quicker and quicker with every passing second of your tender exploration.

“You’re a damn piece of art,” you whispered, biting back a moan when you reached the sinfully defined V-line, wrist accidentally skimming over his still very hard length.

A small shift of weight and Steve’s fingers locked firmly around your wrist, gentle warning written all over his face. You looked up at him, shuddering in excitement as you recognized he saw right through you. Yet, he didn’t protest when your free hand slid down his torso and you strained your neck to touch your lips where you could reach, to the sharp edge of his jaw.

“Sparkles…”

His chest rumbled with the single word, bringing a smile to your face as you used the hook you still had around his leg to push your hips up.  

“Yes, love?”

His fingers tightened around your hand, his expression hardening – but you could see it. You could see the absolute glee behind his irises, the dark satisfaction at the fact he was not the only one insatiable. He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t had enough.

And some very, very primal part of his brain roared upon the realization. Conveniently precisely the part you wanted to unleash now that you had got a very thorough taste what Steve was like in bed. If he wanted to keep you there for the rest of your days, you were absolutely on board.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” he warned, having you licked your lips at the perfect opening for teasing.

“I don’t know, looks like it’s not me who needs to finish… something.”

The deliberately slow drag of your gaze down his body to the very evidence you were referring to was the last straw – or maybe it was the way your fingers stretched to touch the smooth skin of his cock again.

You didn’t even know how you ended up with both your hands pinned next to your head, but suddenly they were there. No pain in the movement – Steve was careful with that still, his thumbs even petting the insides of your wrists – but the glint in his eye was nothing short of dangerous. And it had your sensitive walls flutter around nothing, craving him filling you up again already.  

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, it feels exactly like that,” you poked, chin pushed up defiantly, “Captain oh mine.”

The flash in his eyes spoke volumes.

Oh, you had done it now. And you loved it. But the reason why you could afford that, that you loved even more. The way Steve’s searching gaze roamed your face, checking, even if briefly, for any sign of discomfort and only then allowing himself to let loose, appealed more than anything to the last remnants of reason slipping from you. You had no doubt he would ruin your body in the best way; but you trusted him to rebuild it all the same. Playing with fire had never been so safe.

“Hm…” Steve pretended to muse, lips descending to yours, tenderly kissing your lower lip, before his teeth sunk into it and tugged at it, having your breath hitch. “Well, sweetheart, you know that sometimes I do rise to a challenge.”

One of your wrists released, your breathing quickened as Steve’s palm dragged down your side, cupping your ass, fingers dipping into between your tender lower lips again.

“We’ll see who’s gonna need what when I have one of my favourite fantasies played out right in front of me.”

Euphoria exploded behind your eyelids already as two of his fingers scooped his spent and entered you, slowly massaging your most sensitive spot before he scissored them.

“What’s that?” you humoured him, rocking your hips into his generous touch, a soundless oh god escaping you when his thumb flickered over your puffy bundle of nerves.

His mouth slanted over yours in a promise of pleasure, muffling your noise of protest when his thick fingers left you empty again, the smile forming against your previously preoccupied lips menacing.

“You writhing under me, senseless with need, desperate for what only I can give you… which I will… if you ask nicely enough.”

Three fingers slid into you with ease this time, making you cry out as the heel of Steve’s palm pushed against your clit. It was a touch of paradise, a surge of ecstasy to your veins – but you understood now that to truly seize it, you’d have to work and wait and plead. The premise had you trembling with need already.

“And you will, sweetheart. You will.”

Steve Rogers was a man of his word. Stubborn and determined, he delivered on his promise to the last detail. Pushing you right to the edge, only to stop and have you straddle him, have you work for it only to still your hips and steal your breathy cry, a taunting smile against your lips, his long fingers wrapped around wrist whenever you tried to cheat and touch yourself.  

“Anything you need from me, love?” whispered to your mouth, the crack in his voice the only indication he wasn’t all that composed as he wanted you to believe. “I’d love to help. I’d love to see you come undone… you want that too?”

“Was that… a please? I didn’t quite catch that, you know I’m of age…”

A shaky delighted laugh at your pathetic ‘fuck you’ turning into a whimper when you found yourself on your belly all of sudden, fingertips teasing your inner thighs, brushing your lower lips, heady kisses with a devious smile coaxing another plea from you as his weight over you reminded you of how much of an upper hand he had.

The ‘good girl’ sounding a little choked, a testimony of how no matter how delirious he had driven you with pleasure, this was his fantasy played out with in front of his eyes. The ‘I’ll give you anything you ask, Sparkles. Everything. Always.’, fingers interlaced with yours when he finally gave you what you begged for, a reminder that despite the mischief and the indulgent dominance, you were utterly loved.

Broken and rebuilt all at once, exhausted to the point of barely keeping conscious when Steve kissed your shoulder, covering you with the warmth of his body, gently angling your head and whispering to your lips how he loved you, how good you were for him, to him, as if you had just made a terrible sacrifice. Tenderly cleaning you up where you had been joint, a fresh trail of kisses up your spine, bringing a faint smile to your face.

“I’ll be right back. Can I bring you anything, love?”

You only grumbled, genuinely too tired to move anything, even your mouth. Steve’s soft laugh was but an echo. You didn’t want to know what time it was – too sated to really care.

“Water and jelly beans maybe?”

You forced to corner of your lips rise higher, willing your voice to form at least a murmur.

“You did not pack jelly beans into your overnight bag,” you hummed.

At Steve’s chuckle and something landing a foot from your face, you cracked an eye open. A goofy smile spread on your lips, even as snacking was the last thing on your mind. This man. You spied a bottle of water in his hand when he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching to push damp strand of hair from your face.

“You’re perfect,” you murmured, gazing up at him with tired fondness, which he wholeheartedly reciprocated. “I’m keeping you.”

His smile turned brighter than the sun, making you close your eyes.

“Yeah? I’d like that,” he said lowly, fingers carding through your hair lovingly, before stroking your cheek. “Come on, Sparkles, gotta get some water into you at least.”

With a huff, you opened your eyes again, trying to regain control of your heavy limbs. He was right, but leaving the soft mattress, more so when you had Steve was right there, didn’t sound appealing.

Brows furrowing, guilt peeking from under his content smile, Steve helped you sit up, cradling your head to his shoulder.

“I’m s-“

Your palm landed on his bare chest with a small smacking sound.

“Don’t you dare, keeper.”

He kissed the top of your head, letting you feel his smile again when you nuzzled into him – comfort, warmth and familiarity.

“Come on, Sparkles. Water, teeth and then sleep,” he negotiated, setting an example as he downed half the bottle, never easing his support to your body. A part of you wanted to complain it was easy for him to say with his serum-boosted stamina, but for one, you didn’t want to be a cry baby, second, you were too blissed out to even think to voice any complaint and third, how could you grumble when your GG was once again so effortlessly nurturing?

He dutifully supported your weight when he seated you on the bathtub to brush your teeth, carried you back to bed, settled you against his chest when you laid down and gave into the exhaustion before you managed to wish him goodnight and he didn’t say a single word of complaint – though maybe he snickered a bit once or twice. Fondly.

Tipping over the edge of consciousness, you thought you felt a kiss on your forehead, a gentle whisper covering you warmly just as you were slipping under. 

“I’m keeping you too.”  

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist  

I’m imagining Sparkles’ phone ringing in the morning to get ready for their brunch with JJ, Will and the kids and Reid - Steve reluctantly picking up instead, when she sleeps like dead. I see him apologizing, claiming you had trouble sleeping. JJ muttering ‘you go girl’ under her breath, but responding with a motherly wannabe worried voice, offering to make it a lunch instead, and self-highfiving the second she ends the call😅 Steve being too content to worry about it and snuggling back to Sparkles 💕

ANYWAY. Thank you for reading and for your feedback!

[orionsangel86]

Its gonna drive me crazy - that they are filming Song Of Orpheus now, before Season of Mists and Game of You.

I can't fathom how they can possible tell the story of Brief Lives before at LEAST SoM, so I am super curious how they are changing this order around and WHY.

Because I think the main thing it indicates is that the show wants to keep the focus on Dream instead of on other characters.

I have to wonder if they want to simply tell the story of Dream and Calliope, and Orpheus, before they delve into Dream and Nada (which imo will be very difficult to adapt and keep any sympathy with their lead character). That rather than keeping the order strictly as per the comics, they will instead spread out the various histories of Dream's long life leading us to the modern day so we can see just how much he has changed. Because I just can't see Brief Lives being tackled in season 2. I just cant. Its too much of an emotional climax. We need the other stories to provide build up.

I can see some sense in wanting to keep a coherent story focused on the lead character - the comics take forever for us to learn anything about Morpheus beyond "spooky goth dream boi" so im glad that we will go straight into his histories and perhaps learn a bit earlier why he is Like That.

But who knows! The costume slaps, he looks amazing in his flowy ancient robes and deep V neck, and for the time being I'll just enjoy amy new pics of Tom in his awesome Dream outfits (and hope that they get sluttier and weirder as time goes on)