wiitzend · 1 year ago
Text
not to keep talking about this but if greta decides to take the religious aspects out of her narnia reboot or whatever then there's really no point in even making it. christianity runs so deep in everything related to narnia that taking it out would cause the whole story to fall apart, it would just be another hollow remake and if that's the route she's gonna go (which she most likely will) then i'll just stick to the disney movie and reading the books.
631 notes · View notes
Ok so I’m seeing the little mermaid today finallyyyyyyyy and here’s some rambling thoughts, wishes and predictions
First of all, wow… it’s here…. It’s been a 374657 year journey and the day is finally here and I don’t believe it kkkkk. Last year at this point in time we didn’t even know how Halle was gonna look like… wow
I don’t expect to like this movie more than the original, the og is literally in my top5 disney movies so it would be impossible, but I still have high hopes for it. They would be higher if the beauty and the beast and aladdin hadn’t been a lil disappointing. Im not a hater of those movies, in fact I really liked them when I watched them but the more I hear other peoples opinions the more I agree that they aren’t all that. I actually remember being super disappointed by a whole new world on the spot so yeah. My expectations for the little mermaid are high but not that much cause of the previous remakes. I expect to have a fun time but not a mind blowing one.
One of the things I was most excited about were the sisters. I’ve already been spoiled that they barely appear let alone speak so im already disappointed 😭 One thing I love about the og movie is that the mermaids all have the same tail and bra design and the only differences are in colors and hairstyles and accessories but one of the things I love most about this remake already is the complete opposite, that all the mermaids have very very different tail, bra, colors and accessories. I like how they did the complete opposite of what the animation did cause there’s literally no wrong answer here. We did A in one movie so now we are not doing A again. I love it. It would have been very boring to translate that sameness to live action because we’ve seen it already and works better in animation. All this to say I’m very excited for the mermaids. That’s my n1 priority.
The other thing I’m most excited about is the reveal. I hate the reveal in the og movie and this remake has the opportunity to at the very least snatch this one thing away from it and improve upon. The reveal is one of my fave tropes of all time and I already know this Eric is obsessed with the sea and it’s creatures so I’m literally dying to see this scene omg. As much as I love the trope, there’s some ways to completely mess it up and make it cringe and I have a ton of second hand embarrassment all the time so I hope they do it well.
Part of your world is my fave disney song, second only to let it go. I’ve been trying to avoid it but it’s been in all the trailers so I just listened through it and the d23 leaks, but I still haven’t heard the full audio now that the cd is out. What can I say, Halle sounds absolutely perfect no notes there. The scene it self is better than what I was expecting but the animated one is still superior. Animation just allows for so much more than live action, we already know this. Can’t say I’m disappointed cause I’m not but idk why there’s still this part of me that hopes it’s gonna be better when it’s literally impossible but yeah 😭
Rn, I got nothing bad to say about Ariel. Halle looks amazing, sounds amazing, im impressed with her acting in all the clips and trailers I’ve seen. She gives off vibes of a softer and calmer Ariel than the og one, but it’s still very much a Disney princess performance and part. She’s graceful, has a very pretty smile, her eyes are very expressive when she’s happy, determined or curious. I think the only thing that could mess her up is the script for the new original plot bits. Cause other than that I’m very happy. I’m not obsessed with her human clothes. I hope there’s better ones that haven’t been spoiled to me yet. Her tail tho….. I was VERY scared, cause there’s some very specific characteristics that I either love or hate in mermaid tails. But I love hers so much. Her tail is the perfect length with the perfect width, the color is gorgeous, I prefer when the fins are just 2 like the og 1 or like dolphin fins but I also like hers, at least it’s better than some of her sisters, and looks perfect and strong enough to swim. I usually hate little fins on the sides or the back but I don’t mind on her cause give it’s extra detail. The bra is cute and inoffensive even tho i prefer shells any day. Sometimes I wish the hair was red other times I’m fine with the orange… idk but at least it’s not brown
I think I want the movie to be half in the sea, half on land…… it’s gonna kind of depend on the plot but as much as ariel hates being a mermaid I love her more as a mermaid so GIRL U BETTER SWIM A LOT STILL
Ever since I saw the actress for Vanessa I’ve been obsessed with her. I hope she has at least 10 minutes of screen time but I have a feeling it’s gonna be under 5 😭 she looks so good I really want to see her 😭😭😭
I think I’m more excited for Ariel’s journey to become human and learn their ways than I am for the romance plot… Eric is cute but idk…. Maybe the trailers didn’t advertise it well enough but I’m not that excited for the romance rn… they look cute obviously but maybe it’s because I know how it ends that I’m more excited about the new bits about her as a human rather than the new bits about them as a couple.
But speaking or marketing I love love love how they didn’t spoil the new material. The trailers kept using the same footage of the plot points of the og movie and I’m happy. I feel like there’s more room for my expectations to be surpassed this way. I’m very curious about the new stuff even tho I’m still cautious cause I hope they don’t try to change of spell out stuff that was obvious in the og movie but idiots didn’t get so now they need to be more upfront about it to avoid ending up on a cinema sins YouTube video like beauty and the beast tried. Like, there’s no need to cater to idiots and people with bad faith criticism of disney princesses movies. "But Ariel changed for a man-" DHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPJEVHHJEBVRJHVREBJHVERBHJVERB
Honestly don’t care about the animals in this one. Disney needs to balance better these remakes cause if it doesn’t work in live action then don’t force it. I think cinderella best balances the aspect of being a remake but also just an adaptation. They add and change enough for the story to be different but also keep enough stuff for the movies to be similar. I’m just saying that i wouldn’t mind if ariel had absolutely no friends in this one. If she was just Maloney mermaid. Or maybe she had a few fish friends that don’t speak like the mice in cinderella. But wtv. Rn I don’t care about Sebastian, flounder and scuttle
I didn’t like the casting of Melissa at all when I first saw it but I gotta say she shut me up real fast when her clips came out. She is eating the role up so far. I’m very impressed.
Idk if I got anything else to say rn before watching the movie but these are my thoughts rn.
Watching it today so let’s go!!!!!!
10 notes · View notes
natsspammityspamspamham · 2 years ago
Text
I'm actually writing this post specifically for @deepwoodenheart because they followed my main and were not a porn blog. Thanks! They've recently expressed an interest in Yuichiro Umehara (a voice actor), and @msyuksanh is his number one fan who is the one who actually introduced me to this specific voice actor. Since I watch a ton of anime (an unhealthy amount), I will be running through some of the stuff I have watched (and some stuff I haven't). Some of these are just to make fun of these anime, but I don't fault any seiyuu for taking a bad role because you do what you need to to make that bread 🍞
His list of roles is big but not as big as some other voice actors, so I was able to go through which ones I had watched or heard of quite quickly. He has made some random appearances in other anime that I've watched where I went "Huh, definitely know this guy from somewhere" like Fire Force, Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun, and Kaguya-sama.
Note: I haven't watched Jojo Part 6 yet or that parody magic anime with the wombat. The anime will go in no specific order, but it generally goes from "good" to "mediocre" to "these anime can go suck cheese" with anything below the "keep reading" being literal trash-tier anime. There's also some missing stuff, especially in terms of idol anime because I haven't watched those and don't plan on it for now. From looking at the cast list, I think his major idol roles are in Magic Kyun, Tsukipro, Ensemble Stars, and Idolmaster SideM (regular Idolmaster is for female idols).
Akagami no Shirayuki-hime
I was talking to a friend of mine recently when we went Christmas shopping, and when he saw this manga he went, "I didn't like that one." I personally did like this one. His complaint was that too much time was given to the secondary love interest. Umehara plays a supporting (but recurring) character.
((This scene still makes me laugh to this day. Kaori Nazuka was really funny here.))
Tumblr media
Fruits Basket (remake)
Okay, Umehara admittedly barely shows up in this one, but people should watch Fruits Basket no matter who they are. It's good for the soul. That is all.
((It took me so long to find a fricking gif of this bir-- guy.))
Tumblr media
Romantic Killer
Anyone who reads this or anyone who has Netflix should go watch this.
((Kabe-down))
Tumblr media
Tenchi Souzou Design-bu
This anime is surprisingly not directly creationism, but it sure comes close! As a biology major, this anime was pretty neat, but some of it made me go, "What am I watching anyway?" I'm not an ecology specialist though, so maybe this makes more sense to others. His character is a supporting character, but he has some funny bits.
((He also gets to rap in this role, so that was kind of funny. My other favourite lines are "Wow, Mercury is dead!" and "WOO! SAIKOU NI COOL!!!"))
Tumblr media
SSSS.Dynazenon
This one was not nearly as good as Gridman which was already divisive in the mecha community (that I'm not a part of). I heard from others that it was enjoyable, but I personally thought it was a bit of a bore. Props to the casting director for getting Chika Anzai and her cousin Junya Enoki. There are some subbed radio segments that are funny too.
((Also, this is the first anime I watched where he was cast as an ugly adult. Ain't nobody falling for kinoko hair over here. He has also played a piece of sperm, but I digress.))
Tumblr media
Dame x Prince
This anime was built for cringe, and it succeeds at cringe. But because it embraces the cringe, it unironically becomes one of the better anime adaptations of an otome game which is like saying you're the tallest dwarf of the seven dwarfs. It also gave a long-running radio with Kaito Ishikawa and Soma Saito.
Tumblr media
Shingeki no Bahamut: Virgin Soul
I genuinely remember so little about this anime that I went to go watch clips to refresh my memory, and this anime wasn't even bad. It was mediocre, but for something based off a card game, they did really well. I actually watched this for Sumire Morohoshi and her bubbly character Nina. This is technically a sequel, so you'd need to watch the previous one to fully understand it. Oddly enough, I didn't know the first season was a romance until some characters kissed.
Tumblr media
Gakuen Babysitters
This one was essentially built to be a comfort watch. It works at what it wants to do, but I don't like kids. The ending theme is cute, but Nishiyama looked way more into it (Umehara was there to get paid).
Tumblr media
Shinchou Yuusha
I personally thought this anime was gonna be a Konosuba, and it kind of was, but it was far more palatable for me (I was not able to make it through Konosuba and will try again at a later date). Aki Toyosaki carries 99% of the comedy in this anime.
((That slime never did anything to youuuuuuu)
Tumblr media
Orenchi no Furo Jijou
Fun fact: I watched this before knowing what a shounen ai was! I saw the shounen part and went "Oh, so my demographic" watched it, came out, and went "What. Was. That?!" I don't remember a whole ton about it, but I don't remember it being horrendous. It's just some mermaid in a bathtub. I think this was his debut role, and he does play a main character.
Tumblr media
Juuni Taisen
This is probably in a similar boat as Tenkuu Shinpan (later in the list). It's just a bloodbath of an anime, but I will give it credit that it has fanservice for both sides (they sexualize men and women). Anyways, it has a stacked seiyuu cast for something that is so incredibly mediocre.
Tumblr media
Tada-kun wa Koi wo Shinai
He had to be replaced partway through due to his acute immune disease. However, I think he recorded it in post-production. Either way, it's a supporting character in an anime that I think wasn't worth the watch besides the banger of an opening. Masayoshi Ohishi has a knack for writing openings for romcoms (he likes romcoms himself).
((He's the glasses guy))
Tumblr media
Tenkuu Shinpan
I kinda want to watch this one just to turn off my brain and watch some Battle Royale-style gore.
((That character looks sick.))
Tumblr media
Darling in the Franxx
Apparently, you're supposed to watch the first 12 episodes then dip, but come on, when the mechas are built like that, I'm not touching that thing. Even though it has Haruka Tomatsu and one of her most famous characters, I'm not watching it.
((It took me over 100 gifs to find one with Gorou in them despite typing in "Gorou Darling in the Franxx", and he is part of the main cast.))
Tumblr media
Goblin Slayer
You know, for such an edgy first episode, this series is so mid at the genre it tries to take on after. Umehara said himself, "He doesn't really say much of importance." This anime has sexual violence (and it's explicit), and it's not even good.
Tumblr media
Plunderer
I haven't watched this one, but he does star alongside his bandmate Yoshiki Nakajima. Both of them have been in better anime that is certainly not this one. I even read a chapter or two of the manga when it first started airing and went, "They're really making that, huh?"
((He forgot one streak of hair when dyeing it haha))
Tumblr media
Kabuki-bu!
I couldn't make it through three episodes, but maybe I'll try again-- actually, no I won't.
Uchitama
Hmm... I haven't watched this one. It's not hard to see why, but basically, I have not reached that level of degeneracy, and if I do, someone should put me out of my misery.
Senjuushi
Fun fact: This anime is so bad that it has a rating similar to Boku no P-- I'm not finishing that title. I obviously didn't watch this one.
Makura no Danshi
I didn't watch this one, but I saw a video on it and was near tears from laughter and despair because there's no fricking way someone made an anime about this concept AND got Masayoshi Ohishi to write an OP for it. This is the stupidest thing I've seen in a while, and just being close to it made me even more embarrassed that I watch anime. I also listened to Masayoshi's version of the OP before I knew what it was connected to or how to understand some words in Japanese. After learning its association, I was legally obligated to take that song off my playlist.
14 notes · View notes
adirtnap · 2 years ago
Text
game tier list twenty twenty two
2022 was the year of every video game being five or more video games at the same time. games were deckbuilding AND basebuilding AND roguelite AND fishing AND farmingsims. i don't think this worked out TOO well but i can see the appeal and i hope we can make a good one sometime!
game of the year 2022:
celeste!! the best and only video game. video, space, game. this is the peak of the genre, which is understandable because it is also the only game that exists.
it's just so FUN. like, first i play celeste as a vocation AND THEN when i'm exhausted i turn off celeste, sit for a sec, and think, "ah, time for some light fun. let's play a bit of celeste."
S tier (video games of all time)
mm rando ("Legend of Zelda Majora's Mask Randomizer, allsanity settings") this shit is so fun?? it's so fun. i will play this every year
inscryption ohhhhh man did someone have fun making this game and it SHOWS. some guy that i bet really likes and appreciates magic the gathering made a video game about: what if you played magic the gathering and it mattered SO MUCH. what if everything in your world was to enable you having a good and terrible time playing (original and realllly well-designed?) trading card games. and he was RIGHT and i had a good and terrible time
dwarf fortress!!! i first played dorf fort in 2012. i learned to play it alongside a guy i'd just met on study abroad because we were bored nerds. he is now my best friend. i have loved this game for TEN YEARS!! i once met derek yu (spelunky etcetera) at a very nice party and extremely embarrassingly trapped him in a conversation so i could talk about how good dwarf fortress is. he was very gracious and understandably uncomfortable. i like this game a LOT a lot. but, for every year i've loved dorf fort, i haven't really been able to recommend it to anyone. "hey, do you want to play a game that is so fucking hard and annoying to learn?" the answer is not usually "oh yeah for sure"
everything about the new UI-remake is good. they took the "impossible to learn" out of the sentence that i have so many times said, "this game is brilliant and enchanting and also impossible to learn." (the game is now fully "and also.") they did a good one.
A tier (delightful games)
elden ring my computer was too sad to keep playing this, and i am sad about that. it was GREAT, everything about it was as delightful as the darksoul and more. i can't wait to finish it (and probably give it s-tier) when computer good
fortnite they finally made a good battle royale and it is fortnite. good job i like my friends and this game is what i did with them a lot.
super mario sunshine perfect nintendo-y game. filled with little guys of all kinds. i will play this every year
the barnacle goose experiment horror abiogenesis autoclicker!!
sayonara wild hearts GOOOOD soundtrack good game
B tier (really fun games)
vampire survivors this is the most video game ever. i've heard it described as "the best video game of 2003." i've also heard the developer used to program gambling-machine animations. i would have played this on the school bus on the way to highschool. it rules
neon white really fun, zøooomy. i don't have the patience to find microoptimizations in levels to beat my friends, but DANG is playing each level for the first time fun. the writing was cringe AND free, it made me smile
C tier (games i liked)
citizen sleeper to paraphrase shannon: a dnd-videogame except for friends at the table enjoyers. i really liked that every choice felt limited but intentional, rather than disco's fuck-you kinda dice rolls. but, the sell was: "things… are happening. hmmmm what could they be?" which was not strong enough to keep me deeply invested. i'll keep going back and playing little by little
helltaker it's like eight minutes long and it's full of newgrounds drawings of demongirls. it's not a good game. i liked it a lot
D tier (games i did not like)
loop hero. backpack hero. slice and dice. dicey dungeons these are all the same game and they are all different variations of boring
cult of the lamb ANOTHER five-games-in-one that added up to… one-half of a good game? the fighting is like worse hades, the farming sim is like worse dontstarve. the minigames are ok. it was fine
subnautica LOVE a shark! but the game was brought down by the "you have to find a tiny item in a huge ocean and if you do not you cannot progress or you will miss major parts of the story" and also "find that tiny item on a short clock with constant danger." i ended up using the wiki, and shortly after ended up reading the plot because that was more fun than playing the lategame
however, many good moments of "oh wow yikes that's a fuckoff big shark huh" which i DID enjoy
death's door not a bad time but not for me. i think i'd rather play tunic (i haven't played tunic)
F tier (i hate it)
deathloop THEY BIOSHOCK-POISONED THIS GAME SO BAD
the concept of a majora's-mask-plus-dishonored-problem-solving-shooter? quite good. this game? really sucks. this game is the sum of every boring-but-sells lesson internalized by marketing departments on the success of "the genius of environmental storytelling," but instead of genuinely funny bits (like left4dead2's graffiti!), they went for an utterly bland "THIS UTOPIA? DIDN'T WORK OUT HUH"
also the core mechanic just wasn't very fun, was it, it just didn't work. they made it a pretty good fps and also a ~nothing else~
the upside was the art direction which: was good enough to do environmental storytelling with! it makes me mad that some goooood art got wasted on this game
hon. mentions
madness in square garden, for having a good name watching someone else play outer wilds
7 notes · View notes
headgehug · 3 years ago
Text
my little "i want you back" review :P
Oh, boy. Big time spoilers and TMI below the cut!
So, I finished the credits, rubbed my face dry, and took my dog on a nice long walk, and pointedly ignored my screenshots folder after seeing the little number indicating how many items had been added during the last two hours. Also, thank you guys for making me feel very much like a media journalist right now– is this what blogging is supposed to be?!
Let me start out by saying that I don’t usually like/watch romcoms, or if I end up watching one, I pay a lot more attention to the side plots than the main one because it generally bores me, it’s cliche, I get major secondhand embarrassment, etc. So, all of my opinions should be taken with a) a grain of salt, because I don’t know what I’m talking about, and b) the knowledge that I’m a huge hypocrite for loving this movie when, if I had been less excited about it, I probably wouldn’t be giving it another thought.
So, acting first? Jenny Slate killed it, oh my god! It felt real, I felt so immersed, everything she did I was like, damn, same girl. I did not realize Manny Jacinto was Jason on The Good Place until I heard his voice, he was so good in this too! He didn’t feel like your basic throwaway comedic relief character, he felt fleshed out, he had his own little growth plotline, I loved it. Did you even do Little Shop of Horrors in high school? Speaking of that– OMG! Jenny doing Suddenly Seymour, well suddenly I need her to be in a remake of that, like, now. Charlie Day, I mean, I can’t tell if I’m being lenient because I like him or too harsh because I like him and want to be objective, and maybe it was just the writing, but some parts didn’t seem too natural, I don’t know. I think I’m being a little too critical actually, he was great I think and his expressions were so good, really nice to have two leads where both draw you in completely. Despite being primarily a comedic actor, he's just got the face and persona for romance, come on. Especially now, he's just such a beautiful, emotional romantic lead. Mwah.
Fashion/costuming next, because this is the best place to sneak it in before the rest of this long ass thought piece. Oh my god! So good! So modern and sleek but also classic and cute and snazzy! I’ll have to do a separate post just about the outfits because honestly I want everyone’s wardrobe from this, like I would wear everything the six main characters wore. Ugh. Gorgeous.
Writing now? I think I will ultimately blame any disappointment I felt with Charlie’s character on the plotline, it was the “funny, upbeat” counterpoint to Emma’s plotline. Made me cringe a little bit but that’s just because watching drunk people be stupid makes me do that. I also don’t really feel the need to point out what parts I didn’t think were all that funny and/or were a little overdone or unnecessary as far as jokes, cause at the end of the day it didn’t bug me that much. I thought Jase was hilarious and his background wheedling combined with Peter hyping himself up to jump really made me laugh. Like I said before, I don’t watch a lot of romcoms, so I don’t have much to compare this to as far as being super basic? I thought it was a cool storyline, it was generally predictable, it made you cry and laugh and hold your breath in all the right spots. I’m particularly fond of the very very end, if not so fond of the very cringe stuff leading up to it, on the boat. Not saying the writing was bad– just that I got maaajor secondhand embarrassment (which is fine, that’s another feeling and feelings are good. Do you remember feelings, Mac?)
Skip this paragraph if you want to know as little about me as possible <3 Oh boy, did this movie make me cry and not just because I’m a sappy fucking romantic! I’ve got those pushing people away so I don’t have to talk to them tendencies that angsty middle schoolers have! I’m at a job where I could easily stay the rest of my career if I so desired and wanted to end up like my manager who gets walked all over for a living! I’m ending a relationship with someone who never pushed me to be better and only shallowly supported me when I got the guts to try to do it on my own (there are other issues with that situation but I’m grossly simplifying it for ~the impact~). So yeah all of those things kind of made me go “Aw, shit, that’s me.” and bawl my eyes out.
(back to generally relatable and not hyper specific analyses!) While Peter just up and abandoning Emma (receptionist solidarity hell yeah girlie) made me want to deck him and made me just sit there in horror for a fair bit of the movie after that, I get it. It is so easy and desirable to fall back into what’s comfortable because it’s what you thought the ideal was, because it’s safe and it’s simple and it’s the known. Even if you know you're hurting other people (and yourself) because of it. So while he really pissed me off for doing that, I think, from a writing standpoint, from a realism standpoint, it made more sense than him going full spontaneous romantic– because whatever growth he had undergone at that point, that’s not the sort of person he is, and that’s okay. That being said, he certainly doesn’t inherently deserve Emma by the end of the movie– absolutely not (yet- he would/will, if he puts in the work, cause neither of them were perfect, so now's their time to grow and be better together), and I was rooting for her big time with getting her own life on track and pursuing her dreams on her own, without desperately running after a partner. But, it is a romantic movie, so I’m super duper happy about the ending, even though it’s a sickly sweet gag inducing cheesy as all hell callback to an earlier part of the movie that made me cringe and feel all warm and happy inside. And I think that’s what this genre is supposed to do, right?! I love that it’s open ended, I love that there’s a million different ways it could go after that, because that’s real life. And because this is fiction and not real life, obviously they work it out and fall madly in love, slowly and messily, and live happily ever after. :P
Anyways, thank you so much if you’ve read this far, let me know all of your comments and responses and senseless ramblings! By the way guys, that leading guy was like really cute… anybody know who he is?
34 notes · View notes
andypantsx3 · 4 years ago
Text
if i could keep cool | 1
Tumblr media
pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader
length: 20,322 words / 6 chapters
summary: A villain attacks Shouto Todoroki’s apartment and kidnaps what he apparently believes to be Todoroki’s secret lover. The bad news—for both you and the villain in question—is that you’re just there to clean the place. That’s how it starts.
tags: romance, reader-insert, accidental sugar daddy shouto, misunderstandings
warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut
You’d been alone inside Shouto Todoroki’s apartment when the villain attacked.
In your defense, you were supposed to be there. Twice a week, for three hours apiece, you turned up to clean the place, dusting, remaking his bed, and scrubbing down the modern kitchen surfaces that you were fairly certain were going unused in the first place.
You weren’t actually supposed to know who owned the high rise, but the personal effects he kept around hardly made any secret of it--a few simply framed photographs of him with his siblings and his friends at school dotted the shelves in the living room, crates of fan mail were often delivered to his door during your shifts, and you’d seen his hero costume dumped in a hamper on more than one occasion.
You’d been excited to find this out at first, as you were just as much a hero fan as the next girl--particularly heroes who were as handsome and infinitely memeable as Todoroki--but you’d tamped down on your enthusiasm in order to keep things professional. It would kind of suck to be a celebrity and find out that some rando fan let themselves into your apartment on the regular and could help themselves to your stuff if they really wanted to.
You had almost considered asking your manager for reassignment when you’d first figured out just whose apartment you were cleaning, in order to keep things purely professional, but Todoroki’s schedule worked well with your own class schedule, and the money didn’t hurt either. The tips either he or his manager left for you were pretty hefty, and it was nice to treat yourself to groceries that weren’t ramen. He was keeping you in fresh vegetables and a Netflix subscription, so in the end you didn’t ask for reassignment--you were a college student, not a saint.
In retrospect, though, maybe you should have. Because one afternoon in late September, the large wall of windows that looked out into the city shattered with violent force, and a huge figure landed in the living room, glass crunching underneath their heavy boots.
You’d just barely managed to catch sight of a wicked looking scar twisting half of the villain’s face before you’d thrown yourself behind the kitchen island you’d been wiping down, landing heavily on your shoulder. That hadn’t saved you, though. You’d been hauled out across the scattered glass, the shards scraping through your clothes to tear at your back and elbows, and looked up into the face of the furious-looking man.
You hadn’t had time to scream, or beg for your life, or whatever other insanely embarrassing thing you might have done, before a fist connected with the base of your skull, and you were falling into darkness, the man’s features and the clean lines of the apartment around you slipping into black.
Now, you awoke in the dark, a musty scent like dust and slow decay pressing into your nose like a heavy rag. Your eyes flickered open, but the world seemed just as dark as behind your eyelids. In the dim, you could just barely make out cement floors studded with dirt and debris, and gaping cutouts in the wall across from you, pitch black with shadow. They were rectangular in shape, and huge--truck ports, maybe? Were you in a warehouse?
You made to move, but something tugged at your wrists, and you realized with a growing sense of horror that your arms were bound behind your back with rough rope, looped through slats in the chair you’d awoken in. Your head whipped up, and the back of your neck screamed in protest, sore from what had likely been hours of you lolling unconscious.
The thin, wavering sound of something like a radio static filtered from somewhere over your shoulder, and you could just make out low tones of a radio broadcaster: “Pro hero Shouto Todoroki’s apartment was broken into early this afternoon...the perpetrator of the crime is still at large…”
That’s right--Todoroki’s apartment. Your heartbeat instantly kicked into high gear. Where were you? Why were you here? Who was that man in Todoroki’s apartment? Had he taken you here? But why?
A boot crunched in the dirt behind you and you stiffened.
“Awake now?” a voice spat, laced with pure malice. The tone sent shivers down your spine.
The pair of boots crunched towards you, rounding the edge of your chair until you could look up into the face of the villain from before, the man with the horrible scar. It twisted and warped the skin over half of his face, the flesh melted into itself like he’d been held down against a hot stove. An equally horrible grin cut into the harsh line of his mouth.
“Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?” you demanded. Your voice came out high and quavery, and you could have cringed at how absolutely terrified you sounded.
He raised an eyebrow like you’d just asked the dumbest series of questions he’d ever heard.
“Oh, I think you know why you’re here,” he sneered. His eyes were dark, almost black in the gloom of the warehouse.
A twisting wave of frustration washed over you. No you didn’t know why you were here. You’d been wiping down a fucking counter one minute and the next you’d woken up in some creepy warehouse with no idea of where in the world you might be.
“I don’t,” you said, frustrated. “Please, I don’t have any money. Whatever you want, I can’t get it to you.”
He stared down at you impassively, the radio static crackling in the background. “I don’t want money, you fucking brat. I want revenge.”
You stared at him. Revenge? You’d never even met this guy before, what the hell could you have possibly done to him that he would need revenge on you? The extent of your crimes against anyone, as far as you knew, only included arguing with people on twitter and once--drunk at a bar--peeing in the men’s room before you realized it wasn’t the ladies’ toilet. Gender was a social construct, anyway. It wasn’t that bad.
Your blank look seemed to irritate him, and he placed a booted foot on yours, deliberately grinding his heel down on your toes until you felt your bones creak. You bit down on a yelp.
“Don’t play stupid, you little shit. I know he’ll come for you.”
What? Who would come for you?
The radio signal seemed to catch again, and the newscaster’s stately voice reported from over your shoulder. “--Hero Commission received a message from the villain that they are holding Todoroki’s secret lover hostage. We’ve received comment from a PR representative at the Todoroki agency--”
Your stomach dropped in horror as you considered the smug expression that twisted the villain’s face. Oh no.
No.
No way.
Did he think you….?
Dread coiled into a hard pit in your gut. Oh, you were so absolutely fucked. Shouto Todoroki had never so much as heard of you, nevermind invited you into his bed. As far as you could tell, he had no current lover, as his apartment had only ever evidenced the single occupant.
He’d been linked in the media to a couple models and an actress, but it seemed unclear if that was any more than speculation. In the year you’d worked at the cleaning service, there’d never been anything like an extra toothbrush or an abandoned pair of underwear to give away another person’s presence, though you had sometimes seen evidence of his friends; things like a forgotten All Might sweatshirt that clearly belonged to notorious fan boy and current number one hero Deku, or a neatly prepared container of soup you’d seen in the fridge once with a note that read eat this you fucking fuck and if you get me sick I’ll kill you that you strongly suspected came from the foul-mouthed hero Ground Zero.
So unless those were to be taken as signs of a blossoming romance, there was nothing that strongly hinted at the presence of a lover.
You were frankly flabbergasted that this villain had assumed, just because you’d been alone in his apartment at the time, that you of all people could have been that to him.
And you were even more concerned now, as there was absolutely no way Shouto Todoroki was going to come haring in to save someone who did not exist.
What was the villain going to do when he realized that no one was coming for you? Or worse, when he realized you were no one to anyone, and your presence would hardly be missed? Was it better to try and clear up the misunderstanding now? What would he do when the dots connected?
The villain smirked, mistaking your horror. “That’s right, brat. He was supposed to be there, but you'll do just as well. He’ll come for you, and when he does, I’m going to do to him exactly what he did to me.” He gestured to the scarred side of his face and you winced.
So it hadn’t been a hot stove.
“I think you have it wrong,” you said a little desperately. “I’m not--I don’t even know Todoroki. I’m a cleaning lady.”
He rolled his eyes. “Nice try. I’ll just let you walk free then, shall I?”
Your fingers dug into the rope behind your back. “Um, ideally, yes.”
He bit out a harsh laugh, that horrible smile cutting into his features again, and knelt down in front of you. He was close, too close, and you could smell something sour on his breath.
“I’ve just had a better idea,” he said, leaning into you. “What if I do to his precious lover what he did to me? Your face can be the last thing I let him see before I kill him.”
Your stomach turned and you forced yourself as far back in your chair as you could get. Oh fuck. “No, please, you have to listen!” Your voice was growing higher as you spoke. “I don’t know him. I’m his fucking cleaning service. You can call them and ask--just ask!”
The villain didn’t listen, digging around in the inner pocket of his jacket for something. “No skin off my nose if you are or aren’t. But I think we both know you aren’t.”
You could feel your heart climb into your throat as he pulled out a lighter and a small, metal can that smelled sharply of gasoline. Lighter fluid? You started struggling wildly in your bonds, feet straining against the floor to push your chair back from him.
He let out another laugh, uncapping the fluid. The acrid smell sharpened, burning in your nose. The radio let out another burst of static in the background, a high whine that set your teeth even more on edge.
“I’ll let you pick the side, brat,” the villain said, smiling.
“I pick neither,” you managed around the lump in your throat. Your eyes were locked on the can of lighter fluid, like you could will it away from you with the sheer force of your panic alone.
The villain scowled. “Be difficult then,” he said, and moved to pour it over you anyway. You felt the first splash of fluid on your cheek and closed your eyes. That acrid smell got stronger, and the villain let out an excited breath.
Then the wall blew out.
A wall of freezing air rushed over you and the can of fluid dropped from the villain’s grasp, spilling sloppily down your clothes, before clattering to the floor. The villain swore and whirled, grabbing a fistful of your hair and wrenching your head back. You peeked open an eye.
A huge slab of ice had blown open the side of the building, and the silhouette of a man was outlined against the evening sky. It was hard to make out his features in the dim light, but that mop of red and white hair was so distinctive, you would know it anywhere.
A shivery frisson of relief went down your spine at the sight of a familiar figure, but confusion mounted in the back of your brain.
What the hell was Shouto Todoroki doing here?
There was a flinty noise and then a small flame flickered in the corner of your eye. You stiffened--the lighter was still in the villain’s hand, and you were entirely covered in lighter fluid.
“So nice to see you again, Todoroki. Any last words to your little girlfriend?” the villain spat. His gaze was fixed unblinkingly on Todoroki.
You strained against your bonds and his tight grip on your hair. “I’m not his girlfriend! Todoroki, tell him.”
You could barely see his features but you thought you caught Todoroki’s eyes darting over you curiously, like he was trying to figure out who in the world you were and why anyone would mistake you for a love interest of his. Your eyes met briefly. Then the fingers on his right hand pressed forward just the slightest bit, and a huge cascade of ice like an avalanche was rushing you. You closed your eyes, ready to be impaled.
There was a grunt and the villain’s hand was ripped out of your hair, taking a fistful with it. A sudden, suffocating silence pressed down on you, and an icy burn stung at your lungs when you inhaled.
You blinked your eyes open, only to come face to face with a wall of ice mere inches from your nose. Cold pressed in on you everywhere, biting at you through your clothes--it seemed Todoroki had formed some kind of protective shell over you as he forced the villain off of you. You exhaled and sank back in the chair with shaky relief.
More crackling echoed from outside your cocoon, muffled through the thick slabs of ice, and a bright jet of orange light lit up the crystals around you. You tracked the sound and the movements nervously. There was a moment when a body slammed into the ice behind you, cracking it a little, and you tensed, but then whichever of them it was rolled off and was gone within moments.
Over the course of a few minutes, the sounds of their battle and the flickers of light started to fade off into the distance, and you wondered if Todoroki was trying to lead the villain away, or if the villain was leading him somewhere he had planned for. Your fingers found the bindings at your wrists again, and you scrabbled desperately at them with your nails.
If the villain came back for you, you needed to be disconnected from this chair and out of the ice prison ASAP.
You had just managed to work your chair backwards and get a good angle against the rough ice, starting to work up a friction between your bonds and the ice when muted footsteps approached and a hole began to melt in the side of the ice wall. Your eyes snapped to attention and you leaned as far away as you could get.
It was Todoroki who stepped through, however, lifting an arm to melt away more of the ice over you. He looked a little mussed from combat but otherwise unharmed, and in good shape to get you out of here. You breathed a heavy sigh of relief, muttering, “Oh, thank god.”
He fixed you with a weird look, leaning over you when he’d melted enough of the ice to get to your bonds. A hot hand at your wrists burned ropes off of you easily enough, Todoroki careful not to singe you with his flames.
An uncomfortable silence settled between the two of you as you pulled your arms back to yourself, shaking them out.
“Uh, thank you,” you said, watching nervously as those distinctive two-toned eyes flicked over you.
He helped pull you to your feet, and gestured you towards the hole he had blown in the side of the warehouse.
“This way--there’s an ambulance to check you over,” he said evenly. His voice was low and smooth, even deeper in person than you’d heard it on TV. His whole presence seemed a lot sharper, larger even, than was communicated via the media.
You followed his broad back out into the evening air, noting that you were on a somewhat crowded street, likely somewhere still within city limits. Several rows of similar warehouses lined the streets, and an ambulance and several police vehicles had pulled up onto the sidewalk closest to you.
An EMT ran over to you, helping you over to the ambulance and immediately setting to the task of checking you over. She asked you a series of questions including your name, what year it was, the prime minister’s name, and a slew of probing queries about your injuries. She concluded a concussion seemed unlikely, but produced an ice packet for your head where the villain had struck you, and cleaned your wrists where the rope had cut into them, smoothing on aloe and wrapping them up in gauzy bandages.
While she worked, you watched Todoroki as he spoke in quiet tones off to the side with a group of policemen. Eventually, however, the conversation seemed to die out, and he came padding back over to stand in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. You tried not to focus on the swell of his biceps through the fabric of his hero costume.
“What you did was very stupid,” he said, his eyes narrowing.
That tore your attention away from his arms, and you paused, staring up at him in confusion. Did all civilians get a lecture like this fresh off of being kidnapped?
“Excuse me?” was all that escaped you.
That grey and blue gaze raked over you. “You’re lucky I was able to rescue you. You risked your own life and invaded my privacy while you were at it.”
A mixture of confusion, exhaustion, and anger welled up inside of you. You had just been fucking kidnapped and he was lecturing you like a toddler who’d gotten into a box of crayons while her parents’ backs were turned.
“You think I fucking wanted to be kidnapped?” you demanded, sliding off of the back of the ambulance to take an angry step towards him. “You think I wanted any of this to happen?”
He held his ground, hardly threatened by someone who barely brushed his chin and had needed his rescuing only minutes before. You gritted your teeth.
“You are not welcome in my apartment,” he said firmly, something like suppressed anger flickering in his own gaze.
Your temper flared even hotter than his flames. You clenched your fist, the words bubbling up before you could even think to stop them. “Great. Clean it yourself then, you huge fucking asshole, if you don’t want someone else there.”
His eyes widened the slightest bit, but you weren’t done.
“I get kidnapped because some crazy douche wanted to settle a score with you, and you dare yell at me for doing my job? Because what, it’s shameful for you to be accused of having a secret lover and now you have to do PR? Grow the fuck up. That’s your fucking job.”
You turned on your heel, setting a beeline for the police officers where they had turned to watch you, mouths gaping.
“Do I have to give a statement right now or can I come into the station in the morning?” you demanded of the nearest officer.
“We recommend you give your statement as soon as possible, but you can delay until tomorrow if you’re, uh, in emotional distress,” the officer said, staring at you.
“Oh I am,” you intoned loudly. “But not as much emotional distress, apparently, as someone who's been mildly inconvenienced by a media narrative. You'd better check on him, he's the real fucking victim here. And I’ll see you in the morning instead.”
You stalked off towards the street, hardly caring where you were headed or how you would get home from here. You would figure it out and find your way, and it was better than standing around and being berated by some asshole hero who thought himself so wildly inconvenienced by saving you.
“And Todoroki, you can go fuck yourself,” you threw over your shoulder as you disappeared into the dusky maze of city streets.
And he could.
You hoped that was the last you’d ever see or hear of Shouto Todoroki.
907 notes · View notes
atinybitofau · 5 years ago
Text
Y U N H O ⇨ mafia au
Tumblr media
THE ONE WHERE YOU MAKE HIM DRINKS EVERY DAY BUT HE LITERALLY HATES THEM
disclaimer: may contain implied mature content
• you think of him as a really hot leather studded big fluff ball.
• but that’s not what the world thinks of him.
• he keeps his truths a secret really well from you.
• that and you don’t really care to look at Yunho for his evils
• I mean, you just run a decent coffee business down the street from his hideout.
• how the hell are you supposed to know he’s a cold blooded killer?!
• “Hi, Yunho!”
• he’s fatally in love with everything about you.
• would go through lengths to keep you safe.
• make sure no one gets to cherish you the way he does.
• he’s leaning on the palm of his hand as you make his drink
• — one that he’s already tired of.
• but gets it everyday just to see your face.
• “One 6 shot, non fat soy, caramel drizzled latte on ice coming right up.”
• he’s a complete fool when he’s smiling at you guard down.
• you could be the most dangerous weapon against him and he should probably be more careful.
• but he’s not.
• cause he’s a fool.
• “How was work today, Yunnie?”
• he beams at you while you make his drink behind the counter.
• mesmerized by how you move.
• how gentle you were.
• and how ridiculously hot you were.
• “Curving bullets all day, baby.”
• you giggle not taking it literally when you really should.
• but even if that statement were true.
• he was thinking more on the lines of the curves on your trained waist rather than the curves of his trained bullets.
• “You ugh.. you have plans tonight?”
• he’s been trying to win you over since the first day he stepped foot in your shop.
• he thinks you’re so goddamn mindless, you don’t realize his heart eyed look every time he walks through your doors
• you hand him his drink before saying. “I’m going to that club on 49th.”
• he knows that club.
• and he knows it’s no good.
• his jaw clenches and he’s careful with his next set of words. “What for?”
• “You remember Hyemi? It’s her bachelorette’s party and she wanted to celebrate there. I heard it was an okay place though, Yunnie. You don’t have to worry about me.”
• he wants to scoff at you.
• he’s gonna worry about you regardless.
• “Was gonna ask you out.”
• you’re flattered and it’s not the first time Yunho has asked.
• and it’s not the first time you turn him down cause you think he’s joking.
• why would a guy like him—
• with looks to kill.
• want a girl like you?
• “Sorry, Yunnie.” You get ready to close for the day, walking around the counter to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “You know that’s no good for you.”
• fuck— god yes
• maybe being with you wasn’t good for him at all
• but he’s thinking,
• with an ass like that?
• you’d be too good for him in general
• he’d wait for the day he gets to grab you and slam you over your counters.
• even if he’s gotta kill someone for it.
• but he’s got more class than that.
• or more like, that time hasn’t come yet.
• “Okay baby. Just remember to be careful. Wouldn’t want my personal coffee maker to be in too much trouble.”
• you smile at him before locking up your store.
• “Yes cause you wouldn’t want me to stop making the best tasting drinks in the world for you, Yunnie. Right?”
• “Right indeed.” he licks his lips behind you, eyes focused on the real drink, but smirk turned smile when you turn around to face him.
• “Bye Yunho! I’ll see you tomorrow.”
• he watches you with hungry eyes.
• maybe it’s because he can’t take it anymore.
• that he needs you more than wants you right now.
• but he remembers the task at hand.
• that you were about to enter uncharted territory.
• and that if he weren’t there, you nor your friends were going to make it out of there untouched.
• and obviously, Jeong Yunho doesn’t like to share.
• so he’s not surprised he gets a little carried away.
• Hongjoong face palming behind him thinking, -why’d I ever think going with Yunho would be a good idea?-
• his subordinate who never misses a shot.
• and the element of his gang who always got what he wanted.
• Yunho is slightly cringing when he accidentally put a bullet in the man’s head.
• said man who attempted to jump over Yunho’s fence that read DON’T TOUCH right over your ass.
• “Whoops?”
• Hongjoong just sighs and watches the people of the club pile out in absolute terror.
• all but you standing there.
• mortified by what you just saw.
• cause you’re pretty sure Yunho just killed the guy trying to knead your ass to clay.
• not that you liked it or anything—
• BUT YOU DIDN’T MEAN FOR SOMEONE TO KILL HIM.
• “Hi baby.”
• your eyebrows furrow when Yunho scarily approaches you.
• you aren’t surprised.
• actually you kind of already knew.
• caught his gun hanging out of his jacket too many times to not know.
• “Yunho.” you manage out still shaken from the events but not wanting to push him over his limits. “Yunho, did you just kill that man?”
• he pouts snaking his arms around you, lust eyed and completely compelled to you.
• “He was touching you. You didn’t like that right?”
• you notice the smaller man behind him,
• who watches with his jaw slacked because how the fuck?
• obviously no one knows how you work.
• and see..
• you kind of knew you had Yunho wrapped around your finger.
• even though you were oblivious to his obsessive loving feelings.
• “You know most girls would run right now and call the cops on you, Yunnie.” you scold him as he nuzzles his face into your neck, comfortable despite the height difference.
• “But you won’t.”
• “I should be scared of you.”
• he lays a soft kiss against your jawline and hums, “But you aren’t.”
• you shudder at his vibration, not knowing how much of a toll Jeong Yunho really had on you.
• “I’m sorry, baby. I got angry. Don’t like seeing you with other men. Drives me crazy you know? I would never use my gun in front of you on purpose.”
• you’re kind of okay with it.
• okay with Yunho.
• cause if he really wanted to hurt you, he would’ve already.
• “It’s not okay to just kill people, Yunho, you know that.”
• “Won’t do it without your permission.” He mumbles hands going to your neck. “Won’t unless you ask me too.”
• Hongjoong’s behind him thinking—
• now-what kind of fucked up shit was this?-
• how the hell did a girl like you end up in the arms of the one killer he thought would only answer to himself?
• when he’s standing there dumb in love wrapped around you saying he’ll only answer your requests.
• Hongjoong’s dumbfounded
• and so are you.
• “Been in love with you since day one. Was just thirsty and probably woulda killed you after you made me my drink. But then I just saw you and.. I went every day to see you. To make sure no one would have you.”
• you blink up at the taller man who’s eyes are hooded, fingers tracing up your skin and behind your hair.
• “Will do anything for you, baby. Please don’t be mad.”
• you don’t know what to say.
• you’re not mad?
• you’re terrified— out of your wits.
• but definitely could never be mad at Yunho
• because to you, he’s just a huge fluff ball.
• who sometimes doesn’t seem to know the difference between good and bad.
• “You’re not mad at me are you baby?”
• you shake your head and police sirens fill your ears.
• “Yunho, you need to—“
• “Not going anywhere without you.”
• you sigh knowing this was still Yunho
• the stubborn charmer who made you remake his drink every time you got it wrong the first two months.
• the stubborn idiot who always begs for a kiss before you close or he wouldn’t let you
• so you grab his collar roughly and give him what he wants.
• pulling him into a kiss, almost having to hold him because he’s lulled out.
• “Shit.” He grunts starry eyed. “Okay. Yeah. We really gotta go now.”
• you roll your eyes at the helpless romantic before you’re suddenly lifted up into his arms.
• “By the way,”
• you look up at him with a raised eyebrow.
• “I hate your drinks.”
• you smile cause you knew that too.
• knew he only came every day to look at your face.
• “Want to make me a new one?” he abruptly asks the sirens not much of a threat right now.
• “And what would you want in it?”
• that obnoxious smirk on his face tells you that it’s probably not bottled on a shelf in your store.
• and that you’re wrong for even thinking he was being literal.
• because you were actually going to get fucked over your counter later tonight.
• to find out the things he wanted weren’t caramel or whipped cream.
• at all.
@atinybitofau
1K notes · View notes
taglegend · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tag Fact #3 -  I’ve come to realize I’ve always been a fan artist more than I thought. so here is a timeline of influences that shaped my childhood to now. from nostalgic times, to sad changes, to great loss, to strange rises to fame and phases, to stepping stones and finally a laughing place. all the things that make up your favorite fan artist Tag.
1. Rayman (bumped into this in the year of 1999) was actually the first fandom (with crossovers) I bumped into when I was 9. although the internet wasn’t available at the time it was still fun to dwell in home amusements. I remember the storylines and the OC’s I made but they’re kind of embarrassing and it’s probably a good thing there was no internet. I’ve done fanart and comic crossovers of Rayman with Calvin and Hobbs and Nights Into Dreams, spinoffs of Sonic the Hedgehog OC’s, Yoshi with Pikachu, and the Pokemon/Digimon craze with OC’s and other Nintendo comic shorts. but the drawings and comics are long gone and disappeared in the garage in a backpack due to suspecting my sister’s dad accidentally throwing them away. years later towards the year 2018 (now 28), we decided to move to North Carolina and it was my chance to find them again. unfortunately the backpack was gone just like I suspected (my main stuff), but for some reason I found my Pokemon/Digimon fanart, a good batch of Super Mario drawings (vaguely remember doing these), my sister’s drawings and some other neighborhood kids’ drawings in a dirty box. I was partially happy I found something at least but it was the backpack I wanted the most. sometimes I regret not looking for the backpack (’cause I was too busy being a kid) but it’s alright, noone needs to see that shit anyway, ha ha. anyways, I recall being a fan of Rayman from 1999 ‘til 2002.
2. Sonic Adventure 2 Battle (bumped into this in the year of 2003) my second fandom I bumped into when I was 12 going on 13. at the time, my sister and I both liked the Sonic The Hedgehog Franchise based on the Battle remake and ended up making our own secret fanart club that consisted of only us two members. she liked Sonic (and that was her boyfriend, ha ha) and I liked Knuckles (and he was my boyfriend, ha ha) and we were crazy in love about Shadow’s backstory. we listened to the game’s soundtracks as we drew fanart and comics after school and man, those were good times. however, as we grew older towards the year of 2005, we ended up having separate rooms and I believe it played a part in disconnecting on the same interest. then one day, I asked her why she wasn’t into Sonic anymore and she replied, “Because I grew up.” I was sad after that and slowly observed that she was influenced by the emo culture and the new friends she’s made. I was the only member of our little club for a little longer...but eventually I moved on too. I still have some surviving fanart we did together but it doesn’t mean shit anymore since she turned out to be an abusive mother from the last I’ve heard of her. 
3. Gorillaz (bumped into this in the year of 2006). as the Sonic years were at its end, I first heard the song “Feel Good Inc” on Music Choice and seeing the first image of them as displayed on this post (except the fan-made background doesn’t count since I can’t find the original artwork). this was my third fandom and later had proper access to the internet to the website I still currently use called DeviantArt. at first I liked 2D but eventually fell for Murdoc and developed a spiritual connection towards the character as obviously seen in my old fanart and rare photos of my devotion shrines on Valentine’s Day and his birthday every year. for the longest time since being a permanent fan from 2006-2017 (11 1/2 years) I had no knowledge that it was a political propaganda band and other realizations I don’t want to talk about. I only followed them because it was a cartoon and not the bullshit behind the musical project. the world I’ve built and support for them for all those 11 1/2 years shattered the fuck out of me and I just wanted to be left alone to find myself again, somehow. activity stopped on all my profiles, the flow of fanart stopped since I now cringe from the fan service and felt I was used for my talent. I didn’t want to be reminded of it all so I took down all my Gorillaz fanart and archived them for old followers’ nostalgia but also in the hopes they’ll be forgotten in my timeline. I ceased to exist in the fandom for huge personal reasons but it’s best to not say why. I know for sure that the fandom wonders what happened but it’s none of their business. THE END.
4. Waluigi (although I knew he’s been around since 2000 during childhood, I took deep interest once I revisited the character again in the year of December 2013). as silly as this sounds, when I revisited him again, the character was so bizarre that I ended up staying up 3 nights and 3 days in a row just looking all over the internet on everything about him and the questionable “hush-hush” absence of a backstory. despite there being no backstory he slowly gained a cult following and in many ways it’s a good thing. however, since the early 2010′s tension has been building up between Nintendo and its fans about him starring in a main game but everyone hasn’t fully gotten it in their heads that it’s not gonna happen. as long as Nintendo is in control of that, the fandom will not win, I’m sorry to say. on the other hand, if it’s going to be this way, then that’s what fanart and comic projects are for. as for me, I am doing my very best to get my comic project “Waluigi Land” going. again, I apologize if it’s taking very long to get Chapter 2 going if you’ve been keeping track but aha moments need to develop before I start permanent drawing (since concepts, character design and storyline needed improvement badly). as of right now I am still a Waluigi fan and I will not quit on him.
5. Turbo from Wreck-It-Ralph (although it debuted in 2012, I watched the movie two years later into the year 2014). for some bizarro reason, I had an unhealthy obsession with this character to the point where I dressed up as him for Halloween 2014. only 2 fanarts of him and the Turbo Twins exist on my profiles, mainly because my mind was more focused on just ‘thinking about him’ or ‘being him’ rather than drawing physical drawings. luckily, this supposed alleged fandom didn’t last long a little after Halloween so I chalk it up as a very short phase. to this day I don’t know what has gotten over me about him. the only thing I can think of now is that I think it’s because the character had yellow eyes and teeth but I don’t know. now that I think of it, that little fucker was ugly as hell and I STILL don’t know what had gotten over me. one day, my brother mentioned what that was about, and I said to him, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
6. Undertale (although it debuted in 2015, I later took interest in it in 2016). It was all about Sans and Papyrus. I couldn’t get enough of the skeleton bros. eventually Toriel and Mettaton EX became my favorites but it took a long time to draw more of all 4 of them because I had other important things to do in my life plus I was still waiting for the next Gorillaz album to revive my imaginative juices (or so I thought). I really want to have this as one of my frequent fandoms but I just don’t have time for it anymore. it’s still in the back of my head to want to draw them but at this point I still have other better interests to be in. and besides, I’m lazy just like Sans.
7. Cuphead (June 28th, 2017 was the official day I called quits on the British-based band Gorillaz due to the bullshit behind it. since that date I was lost, had no inspiration to look forward to and no cartoon guy to make me smile...but lo and behold of the same year, I took an interest in playing the game Cuphead and man...that shit was a frightening exaggerated metaphor for being on that one drug (forgot the name though) and having sex at the same time but man that was the best fun I’ve had in years. I mean, it’s like, enemies are just so happy to murder you and that scared the shit outta me. and the facial exaggeration?....I think I should stop, ha ha. anyways, the Moldenhauers saved my ass from spiraling down, they have no clue. anyways, eventually I became a permanent fan of their work so to ease the hurt and erase my past from the G-fandom I had to re-wire my brain into a different cartoon category that’s a rather more American, so anything Toon related like Roger Rabbit, Felix the Cat or another favorite that’s a western-based cartoon makes me feel better, especially my new man .......King Dice <3 <3<3<3. however, there was something about this new fandom category I still didn’t quite understand until the date March 14th, 2020. I finally understood what it was but I feel I shouldn’t bring it up. anyways, Cuphead and anything western or rubber hose is my last stop in inspiration for the remaining years of my life. many say never say never but I believe I’ve found my laughing place and that’s all that matters.
22 notes · View notes
madamebaggio · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Notes! IMPORTANT INFORMATION:
I don’t know how many of the non-latins here will get this reference, but I’m sure Brazilians -such as myself -and if there’s any Mexican around will. I can’t say about other Latin countries, or any of our northern neighbors and everybody that’s beyond that…
Have you guys ever heard about the Mexican band RBD? That’s a good way to start this conversation.
Back in 2004 (if I’m not mistaken) there was this Mexican telenovela called “Rebelde”. It was a remake of an Argetinian telenovela (“Rebelde Way”), and it told the story of a bunch of rich kids in a boarding school. Well, not all the kids were rich, but you get the idea.
From the telenovela came the band (RBD), which had six members, who also played characters in the telenovela.
I was 14 at the time and I was absolutely mad over it. It was great, cheesy and corny in the best possible way. I have many fond memories of the telenovela and great regret that I never got the chance to see RBD playing live.
Anyway, the band broke up around 2009, but many fans still love them (maybe it’s just us Brazilians, we have a hard time letting go of stuff…)
Recently their albums finally were made available on Spotify and it got me thinking and…Well, this is the result.
I’m not saying that this is what happened to the actors after the band/telenovela was over. It was just another crazy idea that popped into my mind and wouldn’t let go until I wrote it down.
So… Yeah.
***
Chapter 1
Arthur was passing by Catia’s room when he heard it.
“You’re such a hooligan.”
He knew the voice, he knew where that sentence came from. Before he even noticed what he was doing, he’d pushed Catia’s door open and caught her watching TV.
He saw himself on the screen, much younger -God, so much younger -talking to the pretty redhead.
“And you’re a brat. So what?”
“I didn’t know you liked this show.” He said, startling Catia.
“Arthur!” She paused the scene, and turned to him. “I’m sorry. Did you…”
“I didn’t know they had that on Netflix.” He spoke before she could finish her sentence.
“Oh.” She looked at the TV like it was guilty of something. “They put it on it last week.”
Arthur hummed his understanding.
He didn’t really mind seeing himself as Michael Rivers, the poor student at High Tower Academy. It’d actually been his first role in TV, many years ago. The show (which was cringely called ‘Rebel Way’) was about an exclusive boarding school, and he was the underdog who fell in love with a rich girl.
Oh yes… They also sang. They made it cool before High School Musical came along. The show wasn’t actually a musical, but his character and a few friends were part of a band in it and in ‘real life’.
The show lasted three seasons -their time at the Academy -and the band still lasted two years after that.
“I can turn it off if you want.” Catia offered quietly.
Arthur shook his head. “No. It’s okay, Catia. You can watch it; I just didn’t know you liked the show.”
“It’s fun in a silly way.” She confessed with a giggle.
Arthur chuckled. “I know. I’m not embarrassed by it or anything.”
He left Catia to her show, and tried not to think about his time spent on it.
His mobile rang; it was Bedivere, his agent.
“Olenna Tyrell called me.” Bedivere told him without preamble. “She wants to talk to you.”
Fuck.
***
Sansa sat there as the hairdresser fixed her hair for the shooting. George was an artist, and he was making amazing curls on her hair.
Brienne was sitting on the couch nearby, checking her phone as they prepared and Sansa was talking about a new restaurant with George.
His new assistant kept throwing nervous glances towards Sansa, and the woman wondered when she’d get the courage to ask what was on her mind.
“Oh Seven, Lindsay. Just ask her already.” George told the girl, rolling his eyes when her fidgeting got on his nerves.
“I’m sorry!” Lindsay blushed terribly. “I didn’t want to bother you, Miss Stark.”
Sansa gave the girl a gentle smile. “It’s fine, Lindsay. What did you want to ask me?”
Lindsay bit her lower lip, clearly worried about saying what she had on her mind. However, she seemed to find her courage.
“I… I’m a big fan of Rebel Way.” She finally said. “I know it’s been a long time and all… But your character, Mia, was my first fashion icon.”
Sansa chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. I loved her clothes.”
Lindsay seemed excited by it. “I made a uniform by myself when I was eleven.”
“Which uniform?” Sansa asked. “I liked the one in the first season better.”
“Me too!”
“Sansa.” Brienne cut in gently. “It’s a call for you. You might want to take it.”
Sansa frowned, wary of Brienne’s tone, but took the phone her agent was offering her.
“Sansa speaking.”
“Hey, Stark.” Margaery’s sugary sweet voice called from the other side. “We need to talk.”
***
Margaery knew Sansa wouldn’t be happy with the idea, but she’d promised her grandmother she’d do this for her.
Olenna was the only person that could get Margaery to do absolutely anything. She’d hide a body for her grandmother.
It took some convincing, but Sansa eventually accepted coming to the meeting. A part of Marge had wanted to hide some things from Sansa -like who was going to be there -but she knew it was unfair. They’d been friends for a really long time, and Marge wouldn’t risk it just to make her task easier.
She was in a peculiar position: on one hand, she was really happy with her life now, on the other, she genuinely thought that her grandmother’s idea was a good one.
When Marge entered the cast of Rebel Way, she was supposed to be the star of the show. Her grandmother was producing the whole thing, so it was a given.
She hadn’t liked Sansa at first, because it was clear that she’d get a lot of attention too. Their characters -Mia and Rosalie -were rivals for a big part of the show -they only became friends at the end of the second season. 
Marge and Sansa managed to become friends much earlier. Probably because Marge started dating Sansa’s brother, and Robb wanted them to get along.
It was very difficult to say ‘no’ to Robb Stark.
Which reminded Marge…
He’d be there as well.
Oh hell…
***
With the years, people stopped recognizing Robb as Daniel Cross from Rebel Way. He’d been way younger then, and now he had a beard so most people didn’t recognize him.
Some of the old fans still could, and he never changed his name; but generally he lived a pretty normal life.
“Mr. Cross.”
Some people were just fuckers. “Can I help you, Jon?” He glared at his long-time friend.
“Sansa’s on the phone.” Jon informed him, offering his own mobile. “She said she needs to talk to you and your phone is turned off.”
Robb frowned. Sansa was supposed to be in Madrid for a photoshoot. Why would she be calling him in the middle of the day?
Robb’s phone was dead, and he’d forgotten to recharge it, but if Sansa had called Jon looking for him, it should be serious.
Right?
“Hey, princess.” Robb said softly as he picked the phone. Jon waved at him, before leaving the room so they could talk.
“Hello, Robb.” Her voice was warm. “Do you have a minute?”
“For you? Always. Is something wrong?”
There was a pause. “Not exactly.”
“This doesn’t sound promising. What happened?”
“Margaery called me.” She sighed. “Olenna wants to meet with us.”
“What does Her Majesty want with us?”
Sansa took another long pause. “It’s about the show. Margaery just wouldn’t say what exactly.”
Oh shit. Robb did the math quickly in his head. He was almost certain that the show was about to reach its 15th anniversary. If he was correct, this couldn’t be just a coincidence.
“I really hope this isn’t a revival.” Robb joked softly. Lord, no!
“I don’t think it’s about the show, to be honest. I think it’s about the band.”
Robb cursed under his breath. “If it’s about the band…”
“They’re all going to be there.” Sansa finished for him.
“Shit. I’m going to call Theon.”
“That’s why I called you.” She confessed.
Robb sighed. “Thank you for the heads up.”
“Just be ready when you get the royal call.”
Robb snorted.
***
“Thank you for coming, Theon.”
Theon shook the hand of the man. “It’s always my pleasure, Tom.”
“You bring a lot of comfort to those kids. You make them realise it’s possible.”
Theon gave Tom a vague smile. “I’m glad to be of help.”
He waved and started leaving the room. Theon had mixed feelings when he heard things like this. On one hand, he was very proud of himself; it hadn’t been easy to get sober and remain sober. On the other hand… He didn’t feel like a good example, like he was someone any of those people should aspire to be like.
Yes, he’d been sober for almost seven years now, but it had been one hell of a messy journey.
When he reached the parking lot, he was shocked to see Robb there, leaning casually against his car.
“What’s up, Stark?” He called.
Robb looked at him and grinned. “Hey, Greyjoy.” They hugged it out. “Listen… Have you checked your phone?”
Theon was immediately wary. “No. I turn it off during meetings.”
“Right…” Robb cleared his throat. “So you’ll probably have some missed calls.”
“Robb, you didn’t come here to play the answering machine to me. What the fuck is going on?”
“Olenna is calling all of us.” Robb admitted. “Called Sansa, then me… And probably you.”
“Why?”
“Sansa thinks she wants to get the band back.”
“Why?” Theon repeated, this time disconcerted.
“I have no clue, but we’re getting close to the show’s anniversary.”
“Oh shit.” Theon grumbled. “I knew there was something weird going on.”
“What do you mean?”
“You should start checking Twitter.” Theon told him dryly. “Last week they put the show on Netflix. ‘Rebel Way’ is trending.”
Robb groaned. “Now what?”
“I’ll be honest… I want to know what the Queen wants.” Theon confessed. “Let’s see if I have a message waiting for me.”
***
“Have you heard? Sansa Stark is going to be exclusively with Versace this year.”
Maggie ignored the gossiping assistants and tried not to sigh.
She couldn’t escape Sansa’s name, since they were basically in the same industry, but it was never easy to hear it thrown around so casually.
Fashion Week was almost upon them, and people had often questioned the lack of interaction between the two former band mates.
Maggie was used to people asking her why Sansa -one of the highest paid models in the world -never worked with Maggie -the rising star of the fashion world.
Maggie wished she had a simple answer to that. She normally said that their schedules never worked out, and she knew Sansa had answered the same a few times.
The truth was Maggie resented Sansa a bit. She didn’t hate the model or whatever some people thought, she just…
Those years working together hadn’t been easy on Maggie. That was it. She wasn’t ready to just get back to it.
Her phone rang and when she picked it up, she saw a strange number calling. She ignored the call and was ready to put it away when it rang again, and Arthur’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello, Arthur.” She said as she answered it.
“Oh you answered, great.” Arthur let out a relieved sigh. “Listen, Olenna Tyrell is going to call you. I’m calling first to warn you: she wants a meeting.”
“Oh. Slow down.” She asked, her head spinning. “What meeting?”
“A meeting with all of us; the whole band.”
Maggie had to sit down. “You can’t be serious.”
“I talked to her myself a few hours ago.” He told her. “The old witch wouldn’t tell me exactly what’s on her mind, but if she wants to see us all…”
“Are you sure she wants to meet with all of us at the same time?” Maggie pressed, desperate for a negative answer.
“She said that. ‘Get the kids back together’.” Arthur copied -poorly- Olenna’s voice. “Bedivere thinks it’s about the songs, but I think it isn’t that simple.”
“It never is.” Maggie grumbled, massaging her temples.
“Listen, if you don’t want to go, I’ll stand by you.” Arthur said, and she knew he meant it. “We don’t owe her anything.”
“Well, technically…”
“No ‘technically’, Maggie. We don’t need to do this.”
Maggie sighed. No, they didn’t, but she needed to. Some things had to be discussed, some problems had to be solved, and this was the only way she’d get some closure.
She needed to face the music -and the band.
32 notes · View notes
keeponshouting · 3 years ago
Text
After Infection
This is a rewrite and hopefully eventual completion of a massive multiverse mash-up of my OCs with a couple belonging to @whenromancesmoked and a few others from back in the day. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else is going to be interested in reading this (ok, I know a few people who will probably read it) but psh. I’m having fun and want to share.
Note: This is also a George Romero tribute of sorts. Like I started it for giggles because my PB for one of the characters was in the Dawn of the Dead remake and it just snowballed, which I guess means I should throw a WARNING: ZOMBIES sign up here or something. Anyway!
After Infection: Dawn of the Dead
It had seemed like a good idea at the time – or, well, more accurately, it had seemed like the right thing to do. There was a request from fellow hunters in a small town a few hours’ drive south and things had been quiet lately back home so Nate had figured that they could spare the time and energy. Besides, Dennis had been going pretty stir crazy for a while. Even if it was a hunt, it would be a good excuse to get out on the road for a while, a sort of vacation.
It had not turned out even remotely like a vacation.
They had been a little too late to the original party but apparently just in time for things to get much, much worse. Nate had brought a variety of tools just in case but he had primarily been prepared for an infestation of what locals called “hell rats,” a creature that was pretty common in the south and usually pretty easy to handle if you found their nests quickly enough. Sure they were venomous but as long as you were careful… He had not been expecting an infestation of zombies.
“The lot looks pretty clear right now.” Dennis is hunched over at the door, using the peephole to take a quick survey of the goings on outside their hotel room while Nate brews a second pot of coffee to get him through whatever the morning brings. After all, as long as decent coffee is available, he might as well take advantage of it. Lord knows he might have to go without for a while and God help his poor boyfriend’s patience if that happens.
When Dennis stands up straight again, his head is just about even with the top of the doorframe and he yawns as he leans back against the door, arms crossed over his chest. “So, come up with any plans yet or are we still waiting for the caffeine to kick in?”
Nate snorts into his cup and foregoes actually taking a drink for the moment in order to respond. “You ask that like I have any idea what sort of plan to use here. I’ve met exactly zero hunters who’ve actually had to handle zombies in the past decade at least. I honestly don’t think they’ve ever been a problem this far north before.”
“Well, there sure are a lot around here for something that’s never been a problem.”
“Some forms of infection can spread at an exponential rate in populated areas.” He drains a good half of the coffee in hand. “Our best bet is probably just to find out if there are any other non-infected people anywhere around here.”
Dennis flops across the bed, face down, with a muffled grunt.
Nate just silently continues drinking as the percolator finally finishes beside him and he very seriously considers making a third pot, just in case.
---
Zombies – shambling, groaning, flesh-eating, nearly Hollywood perfect zombies. For fuck’s sake. This should have been such an easy fucking job and now there are zombies.
Viktor strings together another line of curses, voice little more than a low growl, as he chambers another cartridge. Beside him, a terrified little girl whimpers. He simply scowls, sets Glock number one aside, lights a cigarette, and pulls out number two. “Zatraceně zasraný vědci.” Leaning over toward the window, he catches sight of a proper target and empties the last bullet into the back of its skull. What a fucking cliché.
This was supposed to be simple. They had agreed on that fact the moment that the specifications of the job had crossed the table. It should have been routine, easy money. Three towns, three targets, each plan the same; get rid of the scientist, call their employer, and let the clean-up crew come in and deal with the rest. The first two hits had gone off without a hitch. So, of course, it just figures that last one would have to be so much more complicated than it should have been.
“I—I—I w-want m-m-my d-da—daddy.”
Viktor’s jaw clenches as he exhales – slow and even, two thin streams of smoke – as he reloads the gun in hand and wills himself to remain calm. His patience is wearing thin at this point, though. He had not planned for going into this as usual and coming out as a babysitter. The target’s five-year-old daughter was not supposed to be in the house at the time of the hit. She only stayed with him on the weekends. What an absolutely brilliant turn of events that this was apparently the first Monday that she had ever spent with her father.
Dropping his half-smoked cigarette on the floor, he shoves himself up to his feet. He had lost contact with Miguel some time earlier, likely as a result of the scientist’s neighbor backing into an electric pole at full speed after one of the zombies had rushed her car. The impact had cut power to the entire neighborhood and he can only assume that it must be the cause of the interference. With long-range communication down, that leaves only one alternative: he needs to get within the functional range of their radios. Unfortunately, the hit had been planned for the late evening and he had only been able to make it as far as a vacant apartment building a couple blocks away before night had started to set. From here, short-wave does him about as much good as a water pistol.
“Come on.” Viktor has already reached the door and taken quick stock of the corridor beyond by the time he bothers to look back. Unsurprisingly, his unwanted charge remains unmoved, still curled up as small as she can possibly make herself, which is pretty damned small.
“A-are you g-g-gonna take me b-back to da-daddy?”
God give him strength but that stuttering is getting real old real quick. “Ne.” He swings the door open as quietly as possible and waits for a moment, listening for any movement outside, before carefully stepping out and making his way to the stairwell. With the knowledge that their escape route is currently free of hostiles, he takes a deep, centering breath and heads back to where he began.
“Look, holčička.” He crouches down in front of the child and tries to sound as reasonable as possible. Given his current level of frustration, he thinks that he is doing a fairly decent job. Miguel, however, would likely disagree. “Either you just come with me and go wherever I go, quietly and without complaint, or I leave you here. Your choice.” Yeah, Miguel would definitely disagree.
From the way that the little girl’s eyes go so much wider than he would have ever imagined possible, he feels safe in assuming that she disagrees as well and, five minutes later, they are creeping down an alleyway with more stealth than Viktor ever would have expected of a kindergartener.
---
What was taking so long?
That is the question that had led Alex out of the band’s bus and that was the question that he now wants to keep from crossing anyone else’s minds. This is all way too fucked up, like the should not be real kind of fucked up. None of this should be happening.
On the ground, backed up against the flat tire of the car that their driver had originally gone to help, Alex kicks hard into the jaw of what may have once been a perfectly lovely young woman and sends her sprawling backward where she lands on top of the monster still gnawing on the corpse of a man who should have still been living and breathing and driving their goddamn bus. Alex’s hand gropes around behind him for anything even remotely useful as a weapon and lands on the tire-iron just in time to smash it into the face of the dead woman once more lunging in his direction. Another strike as she tries to get up and he cringes and almost loses his lunch at the feeling of her skull cracking open and her brain splattering across the pavement. Hell, he really might have lost it if not for the howl coming at him far too fast. This time, he opts not to look as the hears the wet crunch and just leaps to his feet and starts running back toward relative safety.
“Alex?”
Oh fuck. “Stay on the bus, Val!”
“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Niccols! What the fuck is going—”
Alex fails to hear the rest as he spins around to slam the tire-iron as hard as he can into something else behind him. This time it gets yanked right out of his hand as the body drops and he scrambles back onto the bus, practically picking up a protesting Val in order to get her out of the way of the door that he immediately slams closed. He lets her go as he collapses into the driver’s seat, wide-eyed and hands shaking, and it takes him a moment to register the sound of his dog whimpering by his knee, let alone that of his own name. When the world comes back into focus, though, Val is staring at him in horror. It takes him another moment to realize why.
“Alex? What the fuck happened?” Whether she sounds more panicked or angry, Alex is far too dazed to tell. Her hands reach for his face, his shoulders, moving down to check every inch. “Are you okay?”
Taking a deep breath, he raises a hand to wipe at his face. No. No he is not okay. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Val does not look like she believes him at all. “Is that—Fuck. That—That’s blood! Why the fuck are you covered in blood?”
Breathe, Alex. Always a good plan to breathe. “Shh. Don’t…” Never mind. Telling her to keep it quiet is pointless. Everybody else will have heard it already.
He shoves himself back to his feet, legs weak and wobbly, and stumbles as he makes his way through the curtain that separates the cabin from the rest of the bus. It is instantly evident that the rest of the band did, in fact, hear all of that. All three of them are already staring at him before he even properly steps into view. He is pretty sure that Sasha is the one choke out an “on shit” and it is definitely Macy whose response comes out as barely a squeak.
“Blood?” On his feet now, Macy rushes in to cling to Alex’s shirt, bodily fluids not withstanding. “None of it’s yours, right? You’re not hurt? You’re okay?”
Again, Alex reminds himself to breathe, turning just enough so that he can see where Val still stands in the doorway, Parker lying on the floor a foot or so behind her, his ears back and expression scared. For her part, Val is gripping the doorway so tightly that Alex can only assume that she is trying very hard not move and crowd him any further.
“None of it’s mine.” He looks at the faces around him, all of them staring, all confused and various degrees of frightened. It brings everything right back into focus. “We need to—” It takes a deep breath in and a slow breath out to get his thoughts back in line. “Everybody grab a bag, pack food, necessities, just—just whatever.” Stepping a little closer to Val, just near enough to pull one of her hands down from the wall and give it a quick squeeze. “We gotta get outta here.”
---
Nate leans out of the passenger side window just far enough to level his sights on one of the creatures that already looks less human and fires. One shot, between the eyes, and it hits the ground and disappears beneath the feet of its companions. He hears a quiet gagging sound come from the driver’s seat and finds himself feeling a bit queasy in turn. They are both going to need to make some real changes to their perspective re: what constitutes a monster and they need to make those changes really quickly because as of right now, it is going to be really difficult to get out of this mess without completely rewiring their conscience.
“Um, Nate?”
With barely a glance spared toward Dennis, Nate focuses himself on reloading. “Yeah?”
“How many, uh—how many of them are back there?”
The question gives him pause but Nate squints to get a count anyway. “About a dozen in view. Why?”
“Because we need to, uh—we have to stop for a minute.”
Nate drops back into his seat so quickly that he nearly smacks his head off the door. “We what?”
Not even bothering to look at him, Dennis simply peels one shaking hand off of the steering wheel to point at something ahead. “We have to stop.”
Nate has to squint but he starts moving the moment that he sees exactly what Dennis is looking at. “I’ve got the door.”
It was rather obvious even from a single glance at a decent distance that the man up ahead, standing stock still in his torn slacks and a blood, rolled shirt-sleeves, was staring straight past the car speeding toward him and cursing the sight of the ever-growing number of zombies trailing behind. Dennis hits the gas and is slamming the breaks in what feels like no time.
Nate shoves the back door open and feels like there is really no room for argument when he shouts to the man to get in but he has been wrong before and apparently he is right now. Instead of heading straight for them, the guy curses in a language that they are now close enough for Nate to tell is definitely not English and turns away.
“Hey!” Dennis spins in his seat to look behind them, which Nate is sure that he immediately regrets. “What the hell? What’s he doing?”
“I don’t know. He’s just—” And that is when the stranger pulls his gun, takes out three approaching zombies in relatively rapid succession, and finally turns to sprint back toward the car. “—getting a little girl.”
The child is practically flung into the back seat and their new passenger wastes no time slamming the door behind himself and snapping, “Go. Now.”
Dennis really does not need to be told and floors it the second he knows the door is closed.
“Take a left onto Carver,” the man continues, his tone speaking volumes regarding how unwilling he would be to hear any question or protest. “Follow signs for the mall plaza.” He leans out the window to pick off a few more of the monsters before Nate’s slightly incredulous look catches his attention and his scowl is honestly pretty terrifying. “You’ll be out of gas before the edge of town so, under the assumption that you wish to live—”
Nate’s eyes narrow in suspicion but Dennis has absolutely no qualms against following the orders of anyone with a plan right now and practically takes the aforementioned turn on two wheels when he nearly misses it.
---
“Are you sure you can hotwire this piece of shit?”
“It’s not a piece of shit, it’s a fucking classic.”
Val rolls her eyes at that as she continues trying to calm the utterly panicked Macy currently clinging to her so tightly that he might as well just climb into her goddamn skin. “Fine. Can you really hotwire this ‘fucking classic’?”
Two seconds later, the engine revs up as Alex sits back in the driver’s seat with a trin and a waggle of his stupid eyebrows. Sasha squeals in relief and flings her arms around him from her place in the back seat, as he laughs. “My mechanical genius is wasted on this red wire green wire bullshit.”
He pops the trunk just as something begins to stir inside of the nearby diner and Val shoves Sasha aside to squeeze Macy in so that she can help Nico load their bags at record speed. By the time she flings herself into the front passenger seat, there are already zombies starting to stumble out of the woodwork. Fuck seatbelts. “Gun it!”
Alex hits the gas and they peel out of the parking lot just as the diner’s doors give way.
He had tried to explain what had happened while they packed. It had felt impossible for Val to actually wrap her mind around it at first but once she had seen the mess outside? She had practically dragged Alex and Macy off in search of the nearest source of potential transportation. They needed to find something quickly and it needed to be something fast and she needed to not think about how painfully familiar the blood and gore looked, though she had only ever seen anything like it in her nightmares. When Alex had needed to stop and vomit into the nearest garbage can, she had a feeling that she understood why and a little pocket of rage flared to life in her chest – not because he had to stop but because he never should have been the one to wind up with someone else’s blood on his hands.
“Where are we going?” Macy is the one to finally ask, almost inaudible from where he has curled up against Sasha now, and Val catches his eye in the rearview mirror before she looks toward Alex.
Alex, however, is entirely too focused on driving to really think but so much and instead catches her eye before clearing his throat. “Nick?”
In the back, Nico turns away from the horrors outside of his window. “What?”
“How do you defend yourself against a zombie invasion?”
“Wha—Zombies aren’t exactly my specialty here.”
“No,” Alex agrees, “but zombies are supposed to be a helluva lot dumber than, say, Reavers, right? You know Reavers.”
“So?”
“So how would you defend yourself against an invasion of retarded Reavers?”
The drummer just stares at him for a moment with an expression that plainly says that he may consider that to be the dumbest question that he has ever heard. Eventually, thought, there is an answer. “I’d find the most well-stocked, easily-fortifiable location I could think of and hope I could wait out the attack or find some other way to get through them.”
There is silence in the car and then Alex shrugs. “All right. So, where’s the most well-stocked and easily-fortifiable location we can think of?
Five minutes later, they find themselves screeching into the parking lot of the local mall. The location almost seems somehow normal, given the situation at hand. In fact, were it not for the shrieking horde behind them or the knowledge that Alex is currently doing seventy into a public lot, it might almost feel a little reminiscent of home. Val almost finds it funny, really. What’s funnier to her than coming to a mall for safety, however, is the fact that they were obviously not the only ones with that idea, as they are definitely not the only ones pulling into the place with a bunch of undead goons straggling along behind them.
---
“Miguel.”
There is a burst of static in his ear as Viktor leans out to empty his 22 into the crowd of creatures still chasing behind the car that had picked him up on the highway. Once within range, he takes out a couple of the ones latching on to the other car that had pulled in to the lot at about the same time, too. When his magazine clicks empty, he makes a snap decision to save his 20 for later and drops back into the seat to reload. The driver glances at him in the rearview, looking a little bit frightened, while the original passenger only eyes him for a moment before leaning out of the other side with a freshly loaded shotgun. His fellow gunner might not be terribly trusting but at least Viktor can respect that. Besides, who needs trust? The guy’s a fairly good shot.
“Zatratím tě, Miguel!” The little girl still curled up beside him whimpers. He can hear it over the gunfire, the static, all of the goddamned zombies. It is grating on his very last nerve. “Odpovídáš mě!”
He could hope for no better response than to lean back out just in time to watch as a line of four hostiles drops one by one.
“En ingles, ��mano.” Another line of undead hit the ground as the line sputters out then clears up again, leaving room for easily the most welcome voice he has ever known. “Now where the Hell have you been?”
Viktor nearly laughs. “We can trade stories later, miláčku. Right now, I need cover fire while I try to get these people into the posraný mall.”
“Going shopping?”
“Sklapni. We try the mall or they come to your shop.”
“How many?”
Viktor glances toward the other vehicle still circling around the parking lot with them. “Eight plus me.”
“Well, if they dropped you—”
“Miguel.”
“Sí, sí, the mall sounds like a plan. There’s a garage off to your right. No good angle for me to shoot the lock off but I can keep the number of uglies down while you get in.”
“Děkuji.”
“That means thank you, sí?”
Viktor rolls his eyes. “Sí.”
The line bursts back into static with a laugh.
---
As it turns out, the garage door does not, in fact, require a shot to the lock. It rolls up just enough for the two cars to through before Dennis’s little hatchback even hits the ramp. On the other side, a young woman motions for them to hurry while two men in security uniforms stand to either side of the entrance to help keep the monsters at bay, though it appears that this Miguel guy really only needs the most basic of assistance. His precision is honestly kind of terrifying and Dennis is just as glad not to see any more examples of it as he swerves off to one side so that the other car has room. Nate and their scarier passenger are both out before he even has the damned thing in park, seeing to it that nothing gets in the way of girl at the door to slam the thing shut.
“We saw you on the security cameras,” of the security guards explains as he climbs up to try and jam the gears.
The other car’s driver takes a moment to collect himself, then grabs a wrench and makes his way over to the ladder. “Here. Let me have a look at that.”
“Figured we couldn’t just leave you out there.” The guard climbs down to let the driver up. “Then Shannon said she thought you were headed this way.”
“Thanks.” Dennis finally climbs out only to stretch over the top of his car.
The woman now known as Shannon simply smiles. “No problem. Mercy for your fellow man or something like that.” She laughs and shrugs, looking slightly flustered, though that is probably to be expected, all things considered. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get you all inside. We’ve got food, clothes, relatively comfortable furniture… We’ll get you poor things all cleaned up and sorted out in no time.”
There is a general rumble of agreement as the little group follows her to the door that leads into the connected store, allowing themselves to be ushered toward where another girl is waiting somewhat impatiently. That is, they all follow along aside from one man, anyway, who simply mutters something into his headset before switching it off and making his way back over to the hatchback. Shannon looks back, confused, as does Nate, though he looks more suspicious about it.
Dennis just sighs. “The little girl.” Then he ducks through the doorway and drags Nate away after the rest.
---
“Come on, holčička.” Viktor crouches down beside the open car door with a sigh as the child remains curled up in the center of the back seat. Children. How did anyone actually deal with children, let alone have them by choice?
The little girl simply whimpers and mumbles, “There are monsters out there.”
Well, at least the stuttering has stopped and he supposes he can concede that she has a fair point. “The monsters are outside, not with us.”
Before he can receive a response or think of anything more convincing to say, there is someone else coming up behind him, bending down to look the child in the eye with a painfully sympathetic and all too sugarcoated smile. He might be able to handle the sight of it at any other time but right now, with everything that he has just been through and the way that she has the gall to place one of her hands on his shoulder as if—God, he would really like to wipe that smile off of her face.
“Hi, there,” she says, voice floating in a way that speaks plainly of a familiarity with appeasing people under the age of seven. “I’m Shannon. What’s your name?”
Caught slightly off-guard, the child squeaks. “Um. I—I’m—” The little girl shoots a quick glance toward Viktor then, almost as if asking permission to speak with this new stranger before she finally answers. “I’m Amanda.”
Shannon’s smile becomes even brighter, even sweeter, if that is even possible, and Viktor has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from taking out her kneecaps when she leans even further over him, hand squeezing his shoulder. “Amanda? Well, that’s a pretty name! Are you hungry, Amanda?”
The little girl nods.
“Well, we’ve got all sorts of food inside. We’ve got toys, too, and games and books and all sorts of neat stuff.”
“And—and no monsters?”
Shannon laughs. “And no monsters.”
Still curled up in the seat, Amanda chews worriedly at her lip for a moment longer, eyes flashing back and forth between the two adults still there in the door. Shannon keeps smiling, encouraging. Viktor just stays crouched there with a clenched jaw and a headache starting to build behind his eyes. When the girl finally moves, though, it does not go entirely as expected. Rather than reaching for Shannon’s offered hand, she instead launches herself forward to wrap her little arms tight around Viktor’s neck and duck her head in under his chin, completely unaware of the rather undignified look of surprise that he is entirely unable to keep off of his face. Unhelpfully, all Shannon does in response is giggle.
2 notes · View notes
fmdsooaharchive · 4 years ago
Text
full lyrics credits for suwei and alice’s mi amor.
summary: sooah doesn’t know how to approach this song so she has the brilliant idea of going to a café to work and it helps her a lot. wc: 647 without the lyrics.
The fact that this is a remake makes things so much more complicated to Sooah and her never-ending anxiety that she might not be qualified to do a job like this.
It’s not as if she was forced into this with no previous preparation of the work she had in her hands, but when Sooah said yes to the challenge, she didn’t expect it to be as difficult for her as it turned out to be. So, yeah, maybe she was feeling a little pressured and, on a deadline, as well, but she wanted this song to turn out as sweet as they first intended and sound as good as she needs it to be.
Sooah has been escalating in the past year with her new projects and things that made her feel like somehow, she was starting to grow. She didn’t want to have a relapse and make something bad. She wants to be satisfied with her work, and until now, every time she tried to work on this song, she ended up with more deleted files than any other project she ever worked on.
It’s not because she doesn’t know how to write romantic songs, that much she knows. She had written things that felt very romantic even recently, so she knew that wasn’t the problem she’s having. There aren’t enough fingers in her hands to count how many times she listened and read the lyrics of the original song. Multiple times, over and over to the point she had a draft with the lyrics translated (poorly) to see if that would help her (it didn’t). So Sooah settled with a change of scenario. Not her apartment, and much less the studio in Gold Star’s building. She packed her things covered herself up in the best way she could and, headed towards a café far from home. She needed a change of perspective.
Everything flew surprisingly well after that. It wasn’t a miracle, but at least she wasn’t hating on the lyrics as soon as she wrote them down.
Sooah writes stories through her lyrics. The things she knows and things she has heard from others before, and she makes them a nice fairytale. This time, despite everything, isn’t different. She sits in a corner, and she sees all types of people coming and going. People in a rush to get their drinks and leave to work, school kids having a quick break before they go back to studying, couples out on dates, and enjoying each other’s company.
She tries empathizing because that’s the best she can do since she never felt like she fell in love with someone before. She tries gathering all the things she had heard before and everything she watched from dramas to this day and does what she knows best. She creates a story.
When I open my eyes, I miss you so much Just by saying your name My cheeks burn and my heart floats
It’s cheesy, and if she didn’t know she had written things more cringe-worthy lyrics before, she would be tempted to erase that from her iPad and pretend she didn’t do anything. But it’s fitting for what she has in mind and from the discussion she had with the rest of the staff who were working on this song, she was going in the right direction.
Mi amor, I’m out of breath Te quiero, I can’t stop, Te amo With your black eyes, tell me you love me Mi Amor, so this dream won’t end Te quiero, hold me in your arms, Te amo With your red lips, tell me you love me, mi amor
The original lyrics have so many more touches of Spanish, and Sooah wasn’t familiar with that many terms before starting to work on this, so she thinks she shouldn’t overdo it and stick with things she knows better. Maybe in the future, when she starts studying more about the language she was still so unfamiliar with, she can feel like she’s not doing a disservice to the people who speak it by butchering it in a song. But it feels right and feels nice. It feels like not something that sounds off, and Sooah’s more than pleased with that when she turns off her device once she’s finished.
On this beautiful night Dance with me Forever Mi Amor
2 notes · View notes
thelastdragneel6417 · 5 years ago
Text
𝗗𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗧𝘂𝗯𝗲 𝗝𝗔𝗚𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 part 1
(Ok sooo here’s my first time trying to write something original and good god am I nervous soo I hope you all enjoy)
The sun has now just rose above beacon academy signaling the start of a new day, while many would view this day to train or study to improve themselves as huntsmen and huntresses. For the (SUPER AWESOME AMAZING AND SERIOUS) team called team RWBY their is only one word that they would call this day
...
...
𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚
*At Team RWBY’s dorm room*
Yang: *laying on her bed looking throw her scroll before tossing it next to her* uggg I’m booored.
Weiss: * gruntingas she stops working on next weeks homework* normally I would scold you on your bluntness I agree it is quite boring today.
Blake: * siting on her bed reading her por - u mm I mean Um her “high class literature” yeah I agree but what do you ya think we should do?
Yang: *in a thinking pose* ummm how about we got the club?
Blake: *shaking her head* seriously is that all you can think of?
Yang: *in a hurt tone* HEY!!!
Weiss: besides we can’t the bullhead terminals are shut down for repairs after YOU AND NORA ALMOST DESTROYED IT BECAUSE OF YOUR IDIOTIC FIGHT *glaring at Yang*
Yang: *waving her hand defensively* hey in my defense Nora started it server her right for saying that pancakes are better that wallfls and besides I won it in the end.
Blake: no you didn’t Nora clobbered you into the ground.
Yang: *angry* hey whose side are you on anyway!?!?
Blake: *rolling her eyes* anyway how about we head to the library?
Weiss: that’s an excellent idea Blake. I think some time in the library would do us all some good.
Yang: ugggg no not the library I though we decided to kill our boredom not to kill me!!!
Weiss: you can stand to improve your book smart you barbaric bimbo *glareing at Yang knowing fill well that she probably a single second in the library during the new semester*
Yang: hey I’ll have you know that physical strength and training are more valuable than reading a few book right sis?
*silence*
Yang: *confused* umm sis???
*yang and the girls all turn to look at Ruby’s bunk to see that she’s laying on her stomach kicking her feet in the air in a childish manner headphones on her head humming along to a song not paying attention to the argument going on*
Yang: Ruby? *no answer* hey Ruby?? *still no answer frustrated Yang walks over to Ruby lifts one side of her headphones and screams in her ear* RUBY!?!?!
Ruby: *leaps I. The air in shock before landing on her butt in shock* owww *rubbing her butt to suve the pain before glaring at Yang* why would you do that?
Yang: sorry sis but I could get your attention what were you doing anyway?
Weiss: yes I would like to know too? *internaly* probably reading on of her childish comic books uggg what a dolt?
Ruby: ohh I was just listening to JAGames *ploping herself off the ground before jumping back on top of her bunk*
Weiss: *confused having never heard of what that dolt they called a leader was talking about* JA who???
Ruby: *gasping in shock before using her semblance to bolt over to Weiss getting right up to her face* YOU’VE NEVER HEARD OF JAGAMES!?!?
Blake: *anoyingly picking rose petals out of her hair and book* let’s assume we haven’t who are you talking about?
Ruby: *wipping her head around to Blake before screeching* HE’S ONLY THE GREATEST DUSTTUBE SINGER OF ALL TIME!!!!
Weiss: DustTube??? You mean that stupid website where people post those idiotic videos of themselves???
Blake: I wouldn’t say that DustTube it that bad you can make some serious money if you’re committed to it.
Yang: yeah but a DustTube singer is not a good thing to hear cause most of them are absolutely horrible *cringing as she remembers that Oum awful rap named “It’s Just Today Mate” by Ten Team*
Ruby *scoffs like she’s offended* ugh JAGames is nothing like them he’s a thousand times better than them his singing, his rhythm, and his music makes it look like all those other wanna bees are just babies playing with a baby piano.
Blake: huh seems like you know this guy a lot?
Ruby: of course I do I’m his number one fan after all I’ve listened to all of his music and bought all of his merch and all his albums JAGames’ music have gotten me through some tough times so I will always love him even though he has never shown his face.
Yang: huh soo that’s where all that stuff came from I’ve always wondered about that also *grinning* aren’t you already dating a certain noodle boy right now for shame Ruby how could you break jaunes heart by having an affair?
Weiss: I still don’t know what you see in that dolt *rolling her eyes back not truly understanding why ruby would want to date that idiot but nether the less grateful that he has stop relentlessly trying to ask her out*
Ruby: *beet red embarrassed* Yannng stop that it’s not like that all *blushing* even though I really like him and his music I will always love my sweet knight more.
Ruby: anyway I’ve got an idea since I’ve talked about JAGames this long *an ear to ear smile creeps up on her lips before shouting* WOULD YOU LIKE TO LISTEN TO SOME OF HIS MUSIC WITH ME!?!?
Weiss: *appoled* are you crazy!?!? No why would we ever want to listen to your stupid music!?!?
Yang: I’m in sounds like fun
Weiss: *shocked* WHAT WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT?
Yang: it sounds fun anything to beat this boredom and besides I’ve been trying to find some new music for a while now.
Weiss: fine then be that way but know that Blake and I won’t be bothered to listen to your childish music.
Blake: actually I’ll join in too.
Weiss: *absolutly shocked* WHYYYYYYYYY!?!?!?!
Blake: same as Yang seems like fun also I’ve just finished reading my book so I e got nothing else better to do.
Yang: see even kitty cat wants to watch with us *blake glares at Yang for saying that* so whatcha say I’ve queen care to join us?
Ruby: *giving Weiss the worlds most dangerous weapon known to man the dreaded puppy dog eyes* plweeessszzzzzzzzzz?????
Weiss: *unable to resist the deadly powers of the puppy dog eyes* I— umm I ohhh alright I’ll listen to your stupid music what kind of music does he make anyway?
Ruby: *jumping up and down excited* yay thank you bestie ohh he mostly makes rock -metal songs some time a little bit of pop and always follows a certain theme.
Weiss: *annoyed by knowing that she’s going to be listening to that barbaric type of music* and that I is???
Ruby: *embarrassed* umm video games?
Weiss: WHAT THOSE STUPID IDIOTIC CHILDISH GAMES THAT ARE A WASTE OF TIME WHY DID I EVER AGREE TO THIS *exclaimed loudly but secretly at the same happy because deep down she is a HUGE gamer a secret that she will take to the grave* AND YOU *pointing to Blake* ARE OK WITH IT!?!?!
Blake: why not? I don’t have a problem with video games sometimes they can tell a story better that a book.
Yang: welp too late to turn back know soo sis what song are we listening to today?
Ruby: *excitedly grabs her scroll unplugs her headphones and sets her scroll near her freinds* how about his newest one it’s a remake of one of my favorites I’m sure y’all will love it!!!
https://youtu.be/wNI0VCRmQ0c
youtube
(Here’s the song if you want to sing along)
🎶following total atomic anihilation🎶
🎶the rebuilding our this great nation our ours my fall to you🎶
🎶that’s why we at vault-tech have prepared these educational materials🎶
🎶for you to better understand the seven defining attributes that make you🎶
🎶special🎶
🎶the future fotells a tale of when the world goes🎶
🎶BOOM🎶
🎶BOOM🎶 (when the world goes BOOM BOOM)🎶
🎶nobody prepared🎶
🎶don’t think anybody cared about the🎶
🎶SOLE TRUTH (nobody cared about the SOLE TRUTH)🎶
🎶oh the bombs🎶
🎶they rose🎶
🎶 now everybody knows the🎶
🎶DOOMS DAY DEVICE(DOOMS DAY DEVICE)🎶
🎶claustrophobia🎶
🎶autotrophic🎶
🎶catostrophic hell🎶
🎶will be soo🎶
🎶and be up in the sky🎶
🎶even when the world feels🎶
🎶lonely and cold inside🎶
🎶even when the heart feels🎶
🎶BLISTERED FORM THE SCENES🎶
🎶for they will fall🎶
🎶For they will rise🎶
🎶for they would tear apart the view 🎶
🎶from your very eyes🎶
🎶take your hindsight and Change the world🎶
🎶FOR A NEW BEGINNING🎶
🎶for its now your chance🎶
🎶to use your hands🎶
🎶descend through the cracked in the dirt🎶
🎶WHERE YOU STAND🎶
🎶take on the vast open🎶
🎶MASQUERADE🎶
🎶THIS IS ATOMIC RENEGADE🎶
🎶following total atomic anihilation🎶
🎶the rebuilding our this great nation our ours my fall to you🎶
🎶that’s why we at vault-tech have prepared these educational materials🎶
🎶for you to better understand the seven defining attributes that make you🎶
🎶resources are scarce prepare yourself for homicidal🎶
🎶RAMPAGE (HOMICIDAL RAMPAGE)🎶
🎶 claim you’re rightful place🎶
🎶mark the writing on your face turn a🎶
🎶NEW PAGE (WRITING ON YPUR FACE TURN A NEW AGE)🎶
🎶well the bomb🎶
🎶they took🎶
🎶your land and now you’re🎶
🎶LEFT ALL ALONE (LEFT ALL ALONE)🎶
🎶Thers masses of🎶
🎶rebellious🎶
🎶proposterous, demonical🎶
🎶CARNAGE READY FOR YOUR BONES🎶
🎶use your senses and you’ll🎶
🎶PROVE YOU’RE WHOLE AGAIN🎶
🎶you’re the hero of this🎶
🎶LAND DEMISED WITH PAIN🎶
🎶for they will fall🎶
🎶For they will rise🎶
🎶for they would tear apart the view 🎶
🎶from your very eyes🎶
🎶take your hindsight and Change the world🎶
🎶FOR A NEW BEGINNING🎶
🎶for its now your chance🎶
🎶to use your hands🎶
🎶descend through the cracked in the dirt🎶
🎶WHERE YOU STAND🎶
🎶take on the vast open🎶
🎶MASQUERADE🎶
🎶THIS IS ATOMIC RENEGADE🎶
🎶now let’s begin with some simple instructions on what makes you a
SPECIAL 🎶
🎶strength🎶
🎶build your ability’s to carry more🎶
🎶persecution🎶
🎶will keep your aim right where you want it to be🎶
🎶endurance🎶
🎶bronze will tackle foes but how long for?🎶
🎶charisma🎶
🎶socialize enemies are closer than you think🎶
🎶intelligence🎶
🎶outsmart your foes with gadgets capable of removing harm🎶
🎶agilety 🎶
🎶build your reflexes to defend from approaching scum🎶
🎶luck🎶
🎶Tatic and strength is one thing🎶
🎶but some times all it takes is good luck🎶
🎶now take your world and throw it upside down🎶
🎶one man pushes through🎶
🎶ONE🎶
🎶MUTANT🎶
🎶AT🎶
🎶A🎶
🎶TIME🎶
*insert guttiar solo*
🎶for you will rise🎶
🎶through hell and back🎶
🎶you fortell of time when you were under attack🎶
🎶put your hindsight and change the world🎶
🎶for they will fall🎶
🎶For they will rise🎶
🎶for they would tear apart the view 🎶
🎶from your very eyes🎶
🎶take your hindsight and Change the world🎶
🎶FOR A NEW BEGINNING🎶
🎶for its now your chance🎶
🎶descend through the cracked in the dirt🎶
🎶WHERE YOU STAND🎶
🎶take on the vast open🎶
🎶MASQUERADE🎶
🎶THIS IS ATOMIC RENEGADE🎶
🎶TAKE THE WORLD AND BEGIN🎶
🎶THE CHARGE OF THE DAMNED🎶
🎶BE SURE TO DEFENS🎶
🎶YOUR BRETHREN FRIEND🎶
🎶YOUR ARMY DECENDS🎶
🎶YOU SAVE ANEW RACE 🎶
🎶UNTILL THE END🎶
Ruby: *nervous* sooo what do you girls think???
Yang:That. Was. Awesome Sis that has got to be one of the best songs I’ve ever heard it was soo action packed.
Blake: I have to agree that was a very good song not my cup of tea but still very good nonetheless.
Ruby: YAY that two for three sooo bestie did you like it???
Weiss: *quiet as a mouse and as stiff as a board before throwing her hands up in the air and screaming*HATED IT THAT WAS THE WORST SONG IVE EVER HEARD
RUBY: *almost as pale as a ghost and on the verge of tear* W-w WHAT!?!?!?
(That’s all I can type was it good or shit (sorry if it was) this is the longest thing I’ve ever typed here I hope you all enjoy) (don’t worry jaune comes in next part with a secret)
38 notes · View notes
bytheangell · 5 years ago
Text
Let the Clichés Pour
(Read on AO3)  (Based off of This Tweet that everyone kept sending to me because I used to waitress at an Olive Garden, so of course I had to turn it into an entire fic)) -------------- “I was going to break up with you anyway, I guess you just sped up the process.”
God, Camille was a bitch. Her words replay in his head over and over as he drives, looking for the first place he can find that’ll serve alcohol. He’ll take a corner store just as quickly as a five-star restaurant at this point, but he absolutely needs a drink. He should’ve known better, should’ve seen it coming the way all of his friends did, warning him constantly that Camille was no good, that she didn’t love him the way he loved her. Magnus suspected that to an extent, but he didn’t think she didn’t care for him at all.
She said she was working late, that they’d celebrate another day over the weekend. Magnus - because he loved her, and what a goddamn fool he was for that - took the day off to go to her apartment while she was at work and cook her a full three-course meal from scratch to have waiting for her when she got back. As a surprise.
The surprise was his when he heard her key turn in the lock and she tumbled in through the doorway with another guy attached to her lips. And her hips. And her--
No, he is entirely too sober to relive that moment. As if on cue he spots the sign for an Olive Garden and pulls off the road towards it. He doesn’t want to be alone and he doesn’t want to tell Cat and Ragnor just yet; they have a night out of their own planned and he doesn’t want to ruin it. He knows they’ll want to know and that there’s no way they’d let him deal with this on his own which is exactly why he decides to wait until tomorrow to break the news. Just because his Valentine’s Day is ruined doesn’t mean everyone else’s has to be, too.
The restaurant is packed. Magnus doesn’t know why he’s so surprised by the number of people who wait cramped in the too-small lobby since the weather outside is far too cold to wait anywhere else. Thankfully the host with the glasses who looks two seconds away from having a breakdown finishes his by-the-book greeting by adding that the seats at the bar are first-come, first-serve.
There’s a single chair open at the end of the bar and Magnus takes it, praying no one he knows will be here to see him. He’s given a polite but short “be right with you” from the bartender that, judging by the length of the paper lined with drink orders coming out of the printer next to her, maybe a bit longer than she’d lead him to believe.
“I’m in no rush,” he assures her. He’s eager to get alcohol in himself but, honestly, the sad truth of the matter is that he has nowhere else to be. He just needs to kill enough time where he isn’t alone, and he doesn’t foresee himself bursting into tears at an Olive Garden bar over the woman who broke his heart so he thinks he’s safe here. Safer than he’d be drowning himself in wine and ice cream alone in his apartment if nothing else.
“Why are there so many people on the wait?” The exasperated voice of a waiter floats over to him, the words directed at the female bartender who only laughs and shakes her head.
“It’s like this every year, Alec. I don’t know why you keep acting surprised,” she points out.
“The surprise is that people aren’t even trying to up their standards from a $9.99 unlimited soup and salad deal for a romantic night out. If one more person tries to get 4 samples of wine out of me to avoid buying a glass I swear to God-”
“Deep breaths, Lightwood. Take your samples, bat your eyelashes, and do what you do best.”
The waiter - Alec - rolls his eyes, and Magnus is left with the distinct impression this cannot possibly be what he does best. The bartender makes a few more drinks before she sighs at the orders still remaining and decides they’ll just have to wait, turning back to Magnus to take his order.
“Sorry about the wait,” she says, and he’s surprised to see she actually does seem apologetic despite clearly being swamped. “I’m Maia, what can I get for you?”
“Whiskey, neat. Make it a double. Best you got.” Because fuck it, he has about $400 worth of jewelry to return the next day so why not splurge a little on overpriced drinks.
“Waiting for someone?” The bartender asks him, and then immediately regrets the question when Magnus opens and closes his mouth wordlessly, frowning. He realizes that he’s been operating in such a daze since he left Camille’s apartment, ordering his heartbreak drink on instinct, that now that it sits in front of him the reality of it all crashes down on him.
“No, but I’m afraid that’s for the best.” He’s quick to recover with a smile, albeit a sad smile. If this were another setting on another day he might actually be the cliche who spills his guts out to the bartender. Instead it’s Valentine’s Day in a busy chain restaurant and the poor girl in front of him doesn’t have time to play therapist. “Thanks,” he adds, taking a very long sip of the drink.
She takes the easy out and turns back to the couple next to Magnus, leaving and coming back with an appetizer for them to share. There’s another bartender on the other end of the bar, Magnus observes as he continues to make quick work of his whiskey, a blonde male who’s doing more winking and theatrical bottle flipping than actual drink making, not that his patrons seem to mind. At least not the women; Magnus imagines he might be making an enemy or two out of the dates they’re there with.
It is a nice distraction, Magnus thinks, being surrounded by people, even if most of those people are couples. The best distraction of all, however, is the frustrated waiter when he’s right back at the side station where the servers go to pick up their drinks from the bar. Magnus has a clear view of him from where he sits and for the first time allows his eyes to dwell on a tattoo barely covered by the collar of his shirt, the scar in his eyebrow, and the way his hazel eyes widen in surprise as he laughs at something the girl next to him says.
“Seriously? A second proposal?” Alec says, shaking his head. “I refuse to believe anyone would want to propose here. There are a million better places! Like literally any other restaurant, for starters.”
“You’re just bitter because you’re still single,” Maia offers.
“No, I just have standards,” Alec counters. “For all the training we get here, nothing could’ve prepared me for the number of guys who think it’s completely acceptable to propose to their girlfriends in Olive Garden on Valentine’s Day.”
Magnus should be offended for probably being roped in with the ‘people without standards’ for spending his own Valentine’s Day here, technically speaking, but that isn’t the part that sticks with him. Alec’s single, Magnus notes - that’s his takeaway. Not that there’s even a hint of the waiter not being straight... and not that Magnus is going to ask out the first attractive person he sees, especially not on Valentine’s Day.
At least not with just one drink in his system.
Magnus gets Maia to refill his whiskey once more with things slowing down just enough that Maia swings back around with a basket of bread despite the fact that he told her he wasn’t hungry. “You’ll thank me later,” she says, eyeing the whiskey pointedly. “The bread is fresh, and I threw in a dipping sauce on the house. Just don’t tell my manager.” She gives him a wink and he wonders how sad he must look for her to be throwing bread and alfredo sauce at him for free.
Magnus finishes the whiskey and, instead of leaving, decides to switch to something a little lighter. It’s with a large glass of sangria that’s more fruit juice than wine, he’s sure, that Alec is back by the bar.
“They’re sitting on the same side of the booth, Maia,” Alec grumbles. “They spent ten minutes making out instead of eating and then complained the food was cold. I swear to God I’m going to commit a felony before the night is over.”
“Tell me before you do!” the blonde bartender chimes in, coming up behind Maia. “I’ll record it and put it on the internet so we can go viral!”
“Thanks for the support, Jace,” Alec says and rolls his eyes again.
Maia turns around, spots Magnus staring, and winces apologetically. “He’s not really going to commit a felony,” she says a bit nervously.
Magnus only laughs. “I wouldn’t blame him if he did. There’s a special place in hell for couples who sit on the same side of a booth.” He intentionally speaks just loud enough for Alec to hear him, and makes eye contact when Alec looks over in his direction to see who said it. Magnus winks at Alec who flushes and turns quickly to leave… too quickly, it would seem, as he runs directly into another server.
Magnus cringes at the sight of spilling drinks followed by the sound of breaking glass, watching a nearby busser spring into action to clean up the mess almost immediately.
“Shit,” Alec curses, looking back over at Magnus with a mixture of shock and mortification before shifting to look apologetically at Maia instead. “Can you-”
“Already remaking them,” she reassures him. “Go clean up, they’ll be done when you get back.”
Alec vanishes from sight and Magnus wishes desperately that he could do the same. Instead, he drenches some bread in alfredo sauce and works on sobering himself up enough to leave before he can do any more damage.
--------------
Alec is drenched. The only plus side is that the black shirts they wear hide the stains of wine and margarita, but no matter how much he wrings it out into the sink the wet fabric clings to him now and he’s pretty sure he’s starting to get drunk off the smell of the alcohol on him.
“What the hell was that?” Jace’s voice sounds behind him.
“An accident, Jace. People make them. You should know, you make plenty.” Alec glares, hoping his tone is enough to convey that this conversation is absolutely over. As if the night hasn’t been stressful enough before he made an absolute fool out of himself in front of the gorgeous guy at the bar-
“I’ve never seen you drop so much as a single fork, let alone an entire tray of drinks,” Jace insists. “What’s wrong?”
And I’ve never seen someone as gorgeous as that guy at the bar, Alec thinks to himself, and feels the hint of a blush creep onto his cheeks remembering the fact that the very same man saw the entire disaster that Alec just became.
Jace peers closer at him. “Are you blushing?”
Alec pushes past him without a response and goes back out to the bar, praying that Maia has his drinks ready so he can take them and leave as quickly as possible. With any luck, the guy at the bar will be gone.
Of course, luck obviously isn’t in Alec’s favor tonight. Maia still has two drinks to finish and the guy at the bar is definitely still there. Alec looks everywhere but at him while he waits, praying the dim ‘mood lighting’ of the restaurant can keep his embarrassment mostly hidden.
Jace goes back behind the bar, eyes glued curiously on Alec, and it doesn’t take him long to realize exactly where Alec is very pointedly avoiding. Jace smirks and Alec feels the panic flare up in his chest, giving him a warning glare and shaking his head, silently pleading with Jace to not do anything with the dots he just connected.
Still waiting on one last drink Alec is forced to watch in silent horror as Jace leans over to Maia and whispers in her ear. Maia looks up at him in surprise at first but then smirks.
“I will tip you out an extra 10% tonight if the two of you mind your own business,” Alec begs.
“I’m offended,” Maia says as she places the last remake on his tray. “When have I ever done anything that wasn’t entirely in your best interest?”
“15%?” He counters, ignoring her question.
“Save that money and buy the poor heartbroken guy at the bar a drink,” Maia suggests quietly dropping her voice low enough that the guy at the bar won’t overhear.
“He’s- why is he heartbroken?” Alec asks immediately, feeling conflicted over the idea. Who cares if he’s single if he’s also way out of Alec’s league?
“I’ll find out,” Maia says, and before Alec can stop her and say he doesn’t actually care enough for her to pry she’s already too far away for him to get her attention without also drawing attention to himself.
Busying himself as much as he can with every other possible thing he has to do, Alec saves his next round of drinks for last. The guy is still there, talking to Maia, and Alec has never been more concerned over a conversation he isn’t part of in his entire life.
“Maia?” he calls from the side station, and both she and the guy at the bar look over at him. His eyes are gorgeous, lined with black and tinted with shadow, and--
--and Alec’s staring. Shit.
Thankfully Maia makes her way over to hand him the two beers he needs, giving him something else to focus on.
“His name is Magnus,” she whispers. “And some coldhearted bitch broke up with him today.”
An ex-girlfriend. Not a total rule out, but not exactly helpful, and- no. No, he’s definitely not considering trying to make a move on a guy who just got dumped. That has to go against, like, every rule in the book.
“Stop. Just… it’s not going to happen. Let the poor guy sulk in peace.” And without another word Alec turns and heads back to his section.
--------------
Magnus ends up ordering an appetizer and another drink. He doesn’t know why… or maybe he does. He didn’t intend on comforting himself with a surprisingly nice conversation with Maia and shameless eye candy in the form of a waiter, but it seems to be helping, so he decides to linger a little longer despite the fact that Alec refuses to look him in the eyes.
Until he does. Magnus doesn’t have to worry about embarrassing himself with staring because now it’s Alec’s turn to be caught surveying Magnus... until Alec realizes what he’s doing and goes back to complete avoidance. Magnus sighs and takes another sip of his drink.
When Maia turns back to Magnus she catches him watching Alec walk away and levels him with a knowing gaze.
“Can I help you?” Magnus asks her when she doesn’t turn away, only continues to watch him in silent consideration.
“Not me,” she says cryptically. “But perhaps there’s someone else…”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you could possibly be referring to,” Magnus insists, because like hell he’s about to get thrown out of an Olive Garden, borderline drunk, for harassment.
Maia only hums and goes over to whisper something to the blonde - Jace, Alec had called him - before they both snuck a not-subtle look back at Magnus.
Perhaps he should stop lingering after all.
Except Alec is back a moment later with something new to complain about. It seems innocent enough except for the fact Magnus swears Alec keeps glancing over to see if Magnus is looking, or listening. And though he keeps his gaze very intently on his phone he’s definitely listening.
“Can you believe she had the audacity to say they were in a hurry to make an 8:00 movie and then try to order a well-done steak?” Magnus overhears and glances at the time at the top of his phone screen. It’s 7:12, the restaurant is packed, and though he’s never worked in a restaurant a day in his life even he knows that’s never going to happen.
“I suppose we can’t all be blessed with kind, patient… handsome guests,” Maia says, just loud enough for Magnus to overhear, but he keeps his gaze resolutely on his phone, even as he hears Alec’s frantic whisper of “Maia!” in warning before he’s gone again.
--------------
“Just admit you think he’s hot,” Maia says, cornering Alec by the soups in the kitchen. He’s waiting for a plate of lasagna to come up in the window and really can’t leave to avoid her, not if he wants the lady with the ‘I’d like to speak to your manager’ haircut out of here before she can actually ask to speak to the manager.
“If I do will you drop this? Because yes, Maia, I think he’s hot. And that’s the end of it. He’s going to pay, and leave, and I’m going to be stuck refilling soup for at least another two hours, and then we’re never going to see each other again,” Alec snaps. He’s stressed enough with his tables and embarrassed enough from spilling those drinks everywhere that he can’t even humor the idea of flirting just then.
“Not even if I caught him staring at your ass as you walked away?” Maia offers in a sing-song voice.
Alec nearly chokes on nothing but air. “Did he really- no. No, I see what you’re doing, and it doesn’t matter.”
The lasagna comes up and Alec grabs it with his towel, taking the plate into the dining room with a smile that’s a little less fake at the idea that the guy at the bar might actually be a little bit into him, too.
--------------
Magnus is mid-sip when Alec appears to his right again, frantically waving over Maia. He’s so wrapped up in whatever it is he has going on that, Magnus notices with a hint of disappointment he’ll never admit to, he isn’t even ignoring Magnus on purpose this time, he’s just ignoring him.
“This night is my own personal hell,” Alec says.
“What is it this-” “I need two glasses of champagne for, you guessed it, another proposal. This is the third one tonight and I swear I’d have to offer up a blood sacrifice to get someone through the door tonight with the decency to tip even half of what they should for how entitled they all-” but Alec stops abruptly, looking past Maia to where Magnus sits, listening in eagerly.
He can’t help it. He’s just drawn to the sound of his voice, even if Alec is complaining just a tad too loudly about customers around, well, a customer - even though Magnus is certain he’s the only one paying him any attention. And he plans on tipping Maia very well for humoring him the past hour or so, so at least he knows he isn’t personally included in Alec’s rant.
Still, the moment Alec realizes Magnus heard all of that he falls abruptly silent.
“Anyway. Yeah. Two glasses with that stupid strawberry on it,” Alec mutters, suddenly very interested in the little order pad he holds in his hands. Magnus wonders if there’s a particular reason he seems to hate this job, or this holiday, or both, so much. He wants to ask, to get to know Alec a little better the way he had with Maia, and even Jace while the people lingering around the bar for drinks got tables and dispersed, leaving only Magnus lingering behind.
He wants to ask, but instead, he decides he should cut his losses before he gets shot down twice in one romantic holiday. Magnus isn’t sure he can handle that.
Plus, trying to flirt with someone who has to be nice to your face because they’re at work is just asking for trouble - the last thing he wants is to put the poor guy in a position where he feels like he has to act interested just to keep a customer happy. Magnus may crave some validation in his life right about then but he isn’t quite that desperate.
“I should take the check,” he says, loudly enough that Alec can rest assured Magnus will be on his way soon and no longer hovering about to distract him or eavesdrop on his conversations.
Maia nods, printing one out as she pours the champagne, dropping it in front of Magnus on her way past him to Alec. Alec takes a ring out of his pocket to put in one of the glasses and Magnus, against his better judgment, decides to grant himself one last longing glance before he leaves.
Alec decides to do the same, but even with Alec looking at him Magnus can’t help but let his gaze fall down to the ring in the glass, thinking of the ring he has waiting back in his own apartment, the one he was so sure he’d be using soon. He must look really fucking pathetic over those thoughts because the sudden look of sympathy Alec gives him is too much for Magnus to take. Yes, it’s definitely time for him to leave.
Except the moment he stands to leave he sways on his feet, entirely unaware of just how much he actually drank until he tries to move.
“Woah there,” Maia says, coming out from behind the bar to steady him. “Not to be that person, but, well-” it’s obvious she’s trying to find a nice way to say there’s no way she can legally let him go out to his car like this and Magnus spares her the trouble.
“No need. Sitting back down now,” he confirms, silently cursing himself. So much for getting out of their hair. Without another word Maia turns around to get him a water which he accepts gratefully.
There’s a high-pitched squeal of joy followed shortly by clapping. Magnus can almost picture the forced smile on Alec’s face and the exasperated eye-roll he’d seen countless times the moment his back turns to the happy couple. Then he feels a tap on his shoulder, which takes a moment for Magnus to register because he doesn’t know anyone on this side of town besides Camille, so he isn’t sure who he expects to see when he turns around.
....it certainly isn’t Alec.
--------------
Alec knows he crossed a line. Maybe two or three. Between the constant staring, the fact that he’s positive Maia and Jace have been trying to drop hints at Magnus about him all night or pry information out of him to give to Alec to use somehow, he’s positive there’s no way this ends well for him by the time Victor swings around to check in on how everything is going.
Or, worse, until Magnus takes the survey on those little table tablets and writes all about how his experience was tainted by the rude server who kept shit-talking every customer who came in through the doors. He thinks the guy is probably cool with it from some of his initial reactions but by the end of the night he seems less amused and suddenly Alec isn't so sure he can trust that gut instinct.
He has to fix this before it comes back to bite him - or worse, Maia or Jace - in the ass. Those reviews aren’t just for them, they go to corporate, and he’s seen people lose their jobs over less.
“Hey,” Alec starts, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Listen. I, uh, know you heard some of the stuff I was saying. I just wanted to say sorry. It was unprofessional, and I just- we have those stupid surveys and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t say anything bad about Maia and the service because of me.”
This is, quite possibly, even more embarrassing than spilling an entire tray of drinks on himself, but he owes it to Maia even if she’s been annoying the entire night.
“I wasn’t even considering it,” Magnus says, and Alec’s shoulders slump in relief. “And don’t worry, I tipped your friend at least twice what my entitlement called for.”
Alec winces at the reference to his previous comment, but to his surprise Magnus is laughing. And, realizing he’s laughing, Magnus stops abruptly and looks twice as surprised as Alec.
“Sorry. I was just teasing. Honestly, I wouldn’t have the patience for a food service gig. If I were you I would’ve gotten fired around the second proposal.” Magnus pauses. “Actually, I was having a pretty shitty day and your running commentary made it a lot better. So thanks for that.”
“You’re, uh, you’re welcome,” Alec manages, because it isn’t at all how he anticipated this going. “Sorry you were having a bad day.”
“Thanks.” Magnus says. Alec knows he isn’t imagining the way Magnus’ eyes linger, the way he looks like he’s just on the brink of saying something else.
Alec wonders if he should say something else, anything else, to keep them talking. His voice sounds almost melodic and ALec never wants him to stop talking.
Unfortunately Simon comes running up to him at that exact moment. “Alec, table 34 is getting a dessert on the house and Victor has it waiting for you to take over. He’s been looking everywhere for you.”
“Better get back to the happy couple,” Magnus says instead of whatever else he may have been about to say a moment before. And just like that the moment’s gone, Magnus turns back around in his seat, and Alec is helpless to do anything other than force himself to walk back to the kitchen.
He drops the dessert off, gets coffee for another table, and tries to go about business as usual… but the entire time his mind keeps drifting back to the guy at the bar. He knows it’s stupid after making sure everything was fine to go back and risk crossing a line with a customer but he can’t help it. Alec turns and heads back out to the bar…
...only to find it empty.
Maia sees the disappointment on his face and shakes her head in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you finally decide to ask for his number after he leaves,” she says.
“No. Of course not. I was just… coming to check on you. And Jace,” Alec lies unconvincingly.
“Uh-huh,” Maia replies, sounding equally unconvinced. “So you wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in the fact that he left his number on the back of the receipt?” Maia dangles a piece of paper up in the air expectantly, and Alec all but lunges for it. Scrawled above 10 beautiful digits is a note:
‘Hoped your friend might want this. If not, toss it and pretend this never happened for the sake of what little dignity I have left. -Magnus’
Alec beams at Maia. “I owe you!”
“After the tip he left? We’ll call it even.” Maia says with a wink.
Alec wastes no time pulling out his phone and pulling up his text messages.
A: Hey, it’s Alec. Your dignity is still very in tact.
M: Good to know.
A: Would it be too soon to ask if you’re free tomorrow tonight?
Alec hears his name being called but it only vaguely registers as he stares at the three little dots blinking at the bottom of the message in anticipation.
M: Unfortunately, I have a grand tour of ‘I-told-you-so’s tomorrow
Alec’s face falls. Maybe Magnus was just hoping for a booty call tonight, or-
M: But I can tell you all about it over coffee Sunday, if you’re free then?
Alec smiles through the breath of relief he lets out.
A: It’s a date.
60 notes · View notes
anthonyjlockwood · 4 years ago
Text
just another day at delilah’s
Hi everyone! I wanted to write something for Flynn’s birthday. So here’s another one shot in the same universe as “if you need, come build your home in me”-- featuring barista!Flynn and Bobby, trying his best. Read it on ao3 here!
Bobby doesn’t like to talk about it, but he worked at Delilah’s Cafe for a day and a half.
Flynn thinks that it was for the best, really-- Bobby Wilson is not suited for a career in customer service.  He tends to be the one causing problems, rather than solving them.
Flynn, however, is a problem solver. She’s been one for as long as she can remember-- back in the first grade, the girl next to her had started crying because she’d gotten red paint on what was supposed to be a picture of a blue butterfly. Flynn had jumped to the rescue, mixing the colors just like her Daddy had taught her-- “See, blue and red makes purple! You’ve got a purple butterfly, now, and that’s so much cooler, really!”
She’d been best friends with Julie Molina ever since.
Flynn knows what she’s bad at-- very few things, she’d like to say, but there were some things that she didn’t have a knack for.  Sports.  Painting her fingernails-- she just couldn’t keep her hand steady enough for the paint not to smudge.
And, her Dad always said she was bad at waiting. Flynn didn’t disagree, exactly; she just preferred to say that other people were bad at speed .
So, yeah, Flynn knows that there are some things she could improve on-- nobody’s perfect, after all. But she prefers to put her time and effort into things she’s already good at, and problem solving is one of those things.
______________
A few months before she started college, she knew she wanted to get a job.  Her dads had been super supportive of her college plans-- they were adventurous types, just like her, but Flynn knew that Julie would want to stay close to her family.  So she’d gone ahead with the plan of applying to Covington to stay with her best friend, and her dads had been all for it.
But Covington’s tuition rates were expensive-- when Flynn ran alongside Willie for Vice President of the United States, lowering tuition would have to be one of their campaign promises, because honestly -- so she’d decided to get a job during her senior year, so she would have a few months to save up some money.
A cafe not too far from her house was hiring. Delilah’s.  
It was a college hangout spot; lots of students from Covington went there between classes. But high school students went there, too-- she’d spent many afternoons with Julie and the guys, doing homework at the corner table, fueling her mind with countless cups of caffeine. So when she marched through the door and up to the counter, she recognized the man standing behind it.  Mr. Rosa was the owner of Delilah’s; he’d named the place after his late daughter, and it had become like a second home to him. He was a cheerful Italian guy whose booming laugh echoed through the cafe. He’d opened Delilah’s years ago, and business was still thriving.
It was thriving so much, he’d let it slip, that it was getting hard for him to keep up with all the orders. That’s why Flynn was there: she swept through the door, on a mission, pulling down the “Help Wanted” sign as she passed.
A short “interview” later, she had an apron tied around her waist and was behind the counter, learning how to make all different drinks.  
Ever since that day, Flynn had been working at Delilah’s Cafe. So when Bobby’s grandmother suggested he get a part time job, Flynn had hooked him up with Mr. Rosa, who’d agreed to give the boy a trial shift.  
______________
Flynn knows her friends pretty darn well, if you ask her.  She knows that Julie is terrified of spiders because of a prank Carlos pulled on her, Halloween of ‘14. The kid was only ten years old, and he’d managed to scar his sister for life-- she still couldn’t see a pumpkin without cringing.
She knows Julie’s worried for her brother, who will be growing up without a mom. She’s worried for her father, who will be without a wife.
She knows Julie worries about everyone but Julie.
She knows that Julie only drinks coffee with cinnamon in it. She knows that Bobby, as boisterous and confident as he may seem, has a terrible fear of flying and absolutely refuses to get on an airplane. She knows that Reggie feels alone sometimes; even in the presence of all his friends, she can always tell when his mind is drifting towards his parents-- probably wondering what they’re doing at that moment.
She knows that no matter how much Alex wants to pretend he’s fine with his parents no longer wanting to be a part of his life, he’s broken inside. He misses his sisters. And she knows that Willie, whose own parents had turned to drugs years ago and would probably no longer even recognize him, feels broken, too.
And she knows that, as much as Bobby Wilson tries to play it cool, he’s absolutely useless under pressure.
______________
The day after his “trial shift,”--which he’d scraped by for because Flynn was behind the counter with him-- Mr. Rosa decided to try a new promotional event at the cafe. He put a sign in the window that each coffee would come with a free scone, that day only.  
Flynn knew this meant the place would be packed-- Mr. Rosa’s scones were legendary. Nobody knew where they came from, or why they tasted so incredible… but if there was a chance of getting a free one, you could bet people would be taking advantage.
And take advantage they did. Not twenty minutes after Mr. Rosa had put the sign in the window, the place was packed.  Flynn and Bobby were rushing around, mixing scone dough and pouring coffee respectively. Flynn did not trust Bobby near a stand mixer.
“Excuse me,” Flynn heard a customer complaining from behind her. “There’s too much ice in my drink-- are you paying attention?” she snapped.
“I ordered an espresso with milk-- why does my cup say ‘latte’?” Another man grumbled.
“I’ve been waiting for 10 minutes! Where’s my order?” A third woman cried.
Flynn rolled her eyes and kept moving-- patience is a virtue, people! she thought irritably.  
But she looked to her left, and she saw that Bobby had turned away from the stand mixer, spinning around to face the complainers.
Uh-oh.
“You know what?” Bobby glared.
“Bobby--” Flynn tried to spin Bobby back around towards the stand mixer, but he wouldn’t go.
Bobby pointed at the first customer. “Ice melts.”
Bobby pointed at the second customer. “That’s what a latte is, dude! Even I know that!”
And, Bobby pointed at the third customer-- “And trust me, I’d be glad to get you your coffee already-- just so you can go away !”
Flynn gaped at Bobby as he stood his ground in the face of the angry customers.  Around him, a line was still forming-- people wanted their free scones, despite the chaos that was already occurring.
Flynn thought fast.  She vaguely recalled the third woman’s order-- decaf hot coffee, cream and sugar-- and threw it into a to-go cup in seconds.  She handed it to her with a swift apology.  
One down.
The other two complaints were, admittedly, incredibly stupid, but… Flynn was a problem solver. “Sorry about the ice-- I’ll remake your drink,” she shot Complainer Number One a large, fake smile.  She remade that drink quickly, too, and handed it over.  
Two down.
And now, she rounded on Doesn’t-Know-What-A-Latte-Is.  “My coworker is right,” she said sweetly. “A latte is milk and espresso-- did you want something else instead?”
“Yeah, your manager!”
Flynn resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. Ah, yes, the ol’ “Can I Speak To Your Manager.” What did these people even hope to accomplish, doing that? She gave the rehearsed answer that Mr. Rosa had instructed-- “Our manager is tied up at the moment, but you can have another drink and a pastry from the display case, free of charge!”
Once Flynn turned her back on the man, not caring to see if her answer had satisfied him, she did roll her eyes.  Mr. Rosa did not pay her enough for this.
Working as swiftly as possible, she made her way through the remaining line of customers-- Bobby helped, when Flynn gave him explicit directions, but otherwise he tried to stay out of the way-- she put him on scone duty.
Bobby was so not good under pressure.  
______________
Now, Bobby’s one day at Delilah’s is a common source of teasing among the group. Reggie tells the story at parties, sometimes; the story of how Super Flynn had come to the rescue of Delilah’s Cafe, which had been swarmed with angry ninja pirates-- Reggie tried to make it interesting.  
“In a world where baristas take ten minutes to make coffee,” Reggie loved to say, in a fake movie-trailer-announcer voice, “ one hero comes to the rescue--”
“Hey!” Bobby would interrupt. “I was there, too!”
“One hero comes to the rescue…”
Flynn laughs about it, now. But that day was far from funny-- she’d really put her problem solving skills to the test.  Mr. Rosa had been grateful; Flynn had gotten a raise after (there was extra room in the budget, Bobby had joked, now that Mr. Rosa wouldn’t be paying his salary).
Delilah’s Cafe would definitely fall apart without her.
1 note · View note
sugaxjpg · 6 years ago
Text
paradise 17; m
⤷  “Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies. Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.” 
Tumblr media
✓ Couple: Taehyung x Reader | VirtualReality!AU
✓ Filed under: smut
✓ Look out for: dom!tae; overstimulation; praising; voyeurism; cock worship; spanking; vibrators... there’s also a mirror on the ceiling because science 
✓ Words: 15,217
Author’s Note: Do you ever feel a feeling that doesn’t exist? That was my entire experience writing this fic. Hope you guys like it, because I even made a gif-cover for it. 
Tumblr media
The first time you heard about Immersive Virtual Reality, you thought that it could be the biggest breakthrough of the century. It was something straight out of a futuristic movie; an invention that even the most intelligent of programers could only aspire to achieve; or perhaps a trope that had been worn-out by repetitive anime remakes and hollywood producers. It was too good — too complex — to be true, and that was precisely why it worked so well.
There had been a huge fuss amongst online communities much longer before the devices hit the common sphere of customers. Forums whispered of a secret project of a big gaming company, supposedly a helmet that could induce a dream-like state, in which the individual was completely absorbed in an artificial, parallel world. Lo and behold: one of the most predominant tech names in the world — Idol —  came out with their almighty IMVIT helmet soon after, and the promise of an “overwhelming new experience” for gamers worldwide.
Of course, it didn’t take long for humans do what they do best: turn something innocent into porn. In less than a year after Idol’s IMVIT helmet had hit the markets, the so-called Paradise 17 — with its embarassing slogan: the future has come — was already one of the top five most sold platforms, rapidly climbing up towards the first position. From what you had gathered, it worked as a hotel-like interface, in which you could mold an insubstantial partner into your perfect sexual fantasy, and then be taken into a personalized room, where the magic would take place. There were supposedly a lot of steps involved, for the system wished to reach as close as possible to perfection, while making sure that the entire experience was both pleasurable and safe — words from its website, not your own.
You told yourself that you wouldn’t succumb into the temptation that the program offered, but, of course, those had been mere superficial rationalizations. You lasted precisely three months — quite a long time, if you were to be completely honest — before you purchased the simulation. To your defense, it was one hell of a deal: since they had been getting ready to launch a new version of it, you managed to get it for 75% off in a stock clearing. Besides, it was only a five minute wait for the download.
The future had, indeed, come.
“Simulation fully downloaded. Connect your IMVIT helmet to your computer.”
Obediently, you did as the program requested, and watched as your system gradually recognized the device. From an outsider’s perspective, you probably looked like a lunatic — completely wrapped up by the adumbration of your bedroom, with only the phantasmagoric light of your computer to illuminate your expectant features; the rapid movement of your fingers against the keyboard, and your eyes over the lines on the screen. To be fair, you didn’t feel much different, and your position only worsened as the connection was concluded.
Next to you, your helmet — you always thought it looked like a motorcyclist's apparatus — lit up in pallid shades of emerald and yellow. Your computer, asymmetrically, turned off for an instant, and the sound of the fans started vibrating within its structure. Once it illuminated again, you were greeted with the logo of Paradise 17 in beautiful, golden cursive letters.
“Welcome to Paradise 17, the immersive virtual reality of your most private fantasies.” Could be read underneath it — bright pink characters against an alabastrine background. Through your speakers, came a robotic female voice, which you quickly turned off. Even her automatic timbre sounded a bit judgemental, but perhaps you were just paranoid. “Please, to begin your pleasurable experience, click ‘proceed’ and pick your partner.”
You did as it said, and watched as the screen morphed into a completely different image. Unanticipatedly hesitant, you swallowed dry, feeling as expectancy started to burn like wildfire at the bottom of your stomach.
With cautious movements, you leaned in and started to read. A second later, your eyes were growing wide as you saw the endless selection of categories. The “partners”, as they were called, were separated in criteria that went from race and gender, and all the way to a five-page quiz about your kinks and sexual preferences, rating them from “not hot” to “super hot” in a very cringe-worthy scale.
The answering section of Paradise 17 had been overlooked by other users, and the internet forums had forgotten to comment on how long and obnoxiously detailed the inquiries could be. You scrolled through those quizzes and randomized sections for what appeared to be hours — when, it reality, it was probably around fifteen minutes — until, at last, you found yourself facing the final page. On the screen, it could be read: these are your three finalists, sorted by your answers and preferences. Please, think about your choice, for there will be no possibility to switch during the simulation.
That page was much cleaner than the previous ones, and presented exactly what it had promised: on it, three pastel-colored pictures and, underneath each one, the specifics about the guy, and how he would behave in the simulation — from a quick look, you could see that they had all been classified under “strictly dominant” in bold crimson letters, which had been one of the first choices you had to make. With a subdued hum of interest, you stared at the options, and started to read what they had to offer.
Firstly, Seokjin. The primordial thought that crossed your mind once you met his picture was that they must have based it off a real life model, because there was no way that a computer program could come up with that level of handsomeness by its own devices. Just like the other two photographies, the image was quite simple — against a anemic blue background, he stood, disheveled black hair and semi-parted lips, his mouth vaguely stained by a shade of pink. Under his picture, it claimed that he was especially fond of voyeurism and bondage. Interesting — but the second wasn’t really your cup of tea.
Then, Taehyung. One thing that made him stand out had been the shirt he was wearing — black as midnight, while the others used white ones. The choice of wardrobe contrasted against the clear strands of his blonde hair, which fell down his face like golden cascades; mingling harmoniously with the lackluster blush that dwelled upon his cheeks. Under, his interests listed spanking and overstimulation. That was something you could deal with. Gladly.
At last, Jimin. His features were somewhat softer than the other options, but his gaze was even more piercing, sending electrical charges through your veins the second that you met the profoundness of his irises. You could not tell how a computer-generated man could look so good, but, then again, that was the kind of awe-inspiring perfection you would face in that simulation, so you should probably prepare yourself for it. It said that he was a fan of praising and cock worship. Which was nice… very nice.
Still, there was a decision to be made, and three fantastic options standing right before you — so, you did what you had to do, and went straight for the superficial desires of the flesh prison that you called a body. You would never admit that to anyone else, but the only element that pushed you towards a choice had been the... size difference. If your simulated body was going to have some fun, you might as well go out out.
With another deep, tremulous breath, you selected your partner.
How should TAEHYUNG call you? We advise not to use real names, or share any sort of personal information.  
Several fake names crossed your mind, but none of them seemed to be a good pick for the circumstances presented to you. Your eyes trailed off onto the details of your room, attempting to find some sort of inspiration amongst scattered books and random objects, but all that came to you were overly-complex character names, or simply ones that you didn’t feel like would be suited for that pornographic scenario — Cordelia, Constance, Galadriel, Ophelia… Elizabeth Bennet? You didn’t even like Pride and Prejudice. You should pick some new books for a change, that was getting ridiculous.
At last, your gaze paused on a vase at the corner of your cubicle. Many weeks prior to your impulsive decision to purchase Paradise 17, one of your friends had gifted you with a rose for your birthday — before such a burning shade of scarlet, now a despondent tinge of purple, withered and dried up, barely standing in a vase of yellowed water. Gross. It was not in the best condition but, hey, your mental state wasn’t much better. It would have to serve.
Eager to get those steps done with, your fingers quickly typed “Rose”, and clicked to the next page before you could second guess your resolution. It wasn’t as if it was a life or death situation — you were about to have simulated sex, for fuck’s sake, not receive a nobel prize. Your name didn’t really matter.
Finally, pick your context. Paradise 17 is a sexual roleplaying simulator, please play your part accordingly. The storylines compatible with TAEHYUNG ar—
Now, that was a decision you did not expect to face. In an instant of startlement, you ran through your thoughts in a failed attempt to recall anything about that part of the program, but you could not remember anyone in the forums mentioning that Paradise 17 was about roleplaying — but, then again, you did select that kink before, so maybe that was it.
You ended up going for a simple one: you had just come back from a long time away, and Taehyung had booked a hotel room for the two of you. You didn’t believe you’d be capable of roleplaying anything much more complex than that — like the sugar daddy or teacher/student dynamics that the platform had suggested — especially when you were already so nervous about it. It was your first time trying it out, after all, you might want to ease your way in. Kind of.
Anticipation controlled your movements as you clicked for the next step, only to be met with a warning. The letters were white against a black background, quite a striking view when compared to the page’s clear and minimalistic style, and also with everything you had been presented so far.
Curious, you started reading: “Warning: Your session in Paradise 17 will go on for as long as you, the user, decides. Please be aware that prolonged exposure to Immersive Virtual Reality is not advised, and should not exceed five hours at a time. Do you wish to set a time limit, or decide later when to cease the simulation? The program will warn you half an hour before you reach the advised period of immersion.”
You hummed in an instant of thought, then clicked your preference. Decide later.
“Please enter your safe word. When spoken, the simulation will cease, and your progress will be saved. We advise you to use a word that would not come up normally during this context.”
Cinnamon. You had no idea why it had been the first one to reach your senses, but it would have to do the job for now — hell, you were winging it so far, there was not much that you had to lose.
“Your safe word is: CINNAMON. Confirm?”
Yes.
“Please, ROSE, review your data before we begin. Thank you for choosing Paradise 17, and we hope you enjoy your experience.”
With a tranquil suspire, you did as the program requested, and looked the list of your preferences. Besides your name, your safe word, and your partner’s data, you received the kinks that had resulted from your long session of quiz-answering — besides a dominating companion, you apparently enjoyed overstimulation, praising, voyeurism, cock worship, spanking and, as the cherry on top, vibrators. That was quite something, and you could tell you were in for a treat.
You chuckled, impressed at the agglomeration of kinks; some of which you had never even considered in depth before. “Seems about right,” you mumbled to yourself, then clicked the next page. Suddenly, you were looking forward to that “overwhelming new experience” a lot more.
“Check-in successfully finished. You may now place your IMVIT helmet.”
Oh. It was done.
Anxiety hit you like a punch in the gut, but you forced yourself to keep your movements under a clear veil of control. Like you did for other simulations, you picked up your IMVIT device, making sure that the long cable that connected it to the computer would not get stuck anywhere, and walked towards your bed. You made yourself comfortable, placing your back against the headboard, and took a look around to see if there were any objects to take care of — it wasn’t common, but sometimes users would report some muscular action in real life, and the last thing you needed was to slap a lamp mid virtual intercourse. When every particularity was revised, you moved your hair behind your ears, and placed the helmet on your head. Your vision went immediately dark, and your fingers promptly started searching for the button on the right side of the large equipment. Once you found it, you pressed it, and the small screen before your eyes turned on. The brightness induced you to blink a few times, making the clear cyan letters almost impossible to read at first.
Initiating program. You will feel a numbness in your limbs as you get into the simulation. Do not turn off your IMVIT helmet during the immersion phasis.  
You inhaled profoundly, trying to calm down your nerves. Progressively, you started to be deprived of sensation through your body, almost as if you were starting to fall asleep — starting from your toes, and then working its way up.
The pixelated screen withered into obscurity, and the sound was activated. First, there was only static, then the auditory commands begun to resound inside your head.
“Welcome to Paradise 17,” the previous robotic voice echoed all around you, sending waves of excitability through your figure — or, at least, what hadn’t been numbed by the system. You knew these steps were necessary to fully submerge you in the simulation, but you couldn’t help but feel as if they were a bit more creepy then they should be. Morbid, almost. “You will be taken to your room shortly. Please, enjoy your stay.”
Your eyelids were heavy and, even against your best attempts, they closed. Sensation only lingered in the line above your neck, and it was rapidly diminishing, morphing into a vague trembling against your skin before, at last, disappearing completely. You always compared that part of the process to a bathtub full of anesthesia, in which you gradually slipped down into — submerging your abdomen, shoulders, jaw; and then all the way to the top of your head.
For the last time, you heard the rhythm of your breathing, and then there was only silence. The next inhale you took was already inside the program.
Abruptly, your eyes opened, and you found yourself inside the wonders of Paradise 17. The brusque change of atmosphere was always the most intimidating part of the process — in the breviloquent space between two heartbeats, you went from feeling nothing to absolutely everything. The sensation of your body was as realistic as ever and, if it wasn’t for the change of wardrobe, you could have claimed that you were still out of the virtual world.
Looking down, you noticed you had been wearing a silk robe — nothing beyond a thin, translucent veil of crimson — and, underneath it, a pair of lingerie that probably would’ve coasted your entire salary to acquire in real life. With a quick running of your hands through your hair, you noticed that the makeover had been complete, and you could only guess that your simulated self was also wearing a full-face of makeup. You knew that the system would go the extra mile to make you feel sexier than usual, but that just felt a bit weird to experience, if you were going to be frank.
Then again, it was probably your anxiety speaking.
You had been transported to a long, dimly-lit hallway. The forums were right about something: it felt like every hotel you had ever been to, and that only made the experience much more engaging. From the ugly carpet beneath your feet to the way that the corridor seemed to go on forever, bleeding into the darkness of the night; to the numerous doors that stood shut on either side of the walls — all of them the same: painted in an ivory shade, with beautifully-crafted golden handles — you found yourself in a flawless replication of reality.
The only passage that was accessible to you had been the one in front of your flabbergasted silhouette. From the parted door came a blast of the most profound tinge of magenta you had ever seen, casting its hypnotic, triangle-shaped glow all over the floor; and bathing your flesh with its phosphorescence. You could hear vague shuffles beyond it, and the distant sound of music and cars, many meters beyond your floor. Other than that, absolute silence.
From the other end of the hall, came the exclamation of a bell, signaling that the elevator — that you had barely noticed before — had arrived at your floor. Its golden lambency sliced through the thickness of the stygian atmosphere, and a person entered the hallway with hurried footsteps. Instead of what you expected, the stranger that came from it wasn’t your partner, but a short, middle-aged woman.
In the midst of the corredor’s shadows, you could see that she was wearing a maid’s outfit, and didn’t seem very thrilled about it. She walked hastily towards you, expression neutral — which, for her, made her seem as if she was pissed off at something. Not that you could judge: you, too, suffered from Resting Bitchface Syndrome.
Her voice was high-pitched as slightly nasaled as she spoke out. “Rose?” she asked as she stopped a few meters away from where you stood, placing her hands behind her back. Thin, rectangular-shaped glasses slid from the bridge of her nose, and her image seemed to be the most off-putting fragment of that world.
You didn’t know if she was part of the simulation, or if she was an administrator logged in the system. Either there was a woman like that laying in a dark room and guiding people through their off-putting sexual fantasies, or the programmers had willingly coded that character into a bitter person. Frankly, both options were equally bizarre, and you chose not to dive deeper into that inner debate.
Also, the fact that you were in full-lingerie in the middle of a dark hallway didn’t make you feel any more at ease. “Yes, that’s— That’s me,” you responded, a bit startled. The fake name sounded so off-putting coming from her lips, and you hoped that it would not be constantly used during the simulation.
“At your service.” She nodded. Her movements seemed a bit too unnatural for your taste, so perhaps she wasn’t a real person. You didn’t really want to find out. “Welcome to Paradise 17. Is this your first time using the server?”
“Yes,” you replied, expectant.
Once again, she agreed with a movement of her head. “Understood.” She signaled towards the half-open door. “This is your room, as you might have guessed. Remember: this is a roleplaying simulator, so play your part accordingly. Do you have your safe word in mind?”
Her speech caught you a bit off guard, but you managed to answer rather expeditiously. “Yes, I remember it.”
“Understood,” she repeated, then took a step behind. The purple light did her no good: it only made her eyes seem even more sulken, thin lips being pierced together in an instant of thought. “Your chosen partner, Taehyung, is ready and waiting for you,” she continued, “and you may start whenever you deem comfortable, simply open the door and the simulation will resume. Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” you spoke, those two words feeling heavy against your tongue. Not that you had the time to add anything else.
As quickly as the mysterious maid appeared, she vanished into the twilight of the corridor, walking rapidly toward the elevator’s open doors. You stood there, somewhat stupefied at the odd interaction, and watched as the metallic cubicle closed with a low purring of its motor, then moved up to the following floor.
Well, that was... unexpected. Surely not something you wished to think about for any longer than necessary.
You shook your head, trying to ignore the confused thoughts that surrounded your mind, and reached out for the golden handle. The metal was cool beneath your touch, and you had to recognize the perfection that the simulation provided — according to some programmers, the physical sensation of objects was the harder one to evoke, but Paradise 17 seemed to have no issue in regards to that. Which was good, because, honestly, the experiences of the flesh were the majority of its offers.
In a brusque decision, you made the call that you would not allow for your performance anxiety to get the best of your actions — it was just a simulation, and you had nothing to worry about. Paradise 17 was just another parallel universe, and Taehyung was just another pre-programmed character. You were there to have fun, and not have an existential crisis. You’d be okay. You’d live.
You hoped.
So, with that in mind, you opened the door.
Your room was both what you had expected — based on the few preview pictures on the Paradise 17 website — and a bit more. It was by no means ostentatious, but it had enough details that it would feel much fancier than it was; certainly something you would not be able to afford in real life.
In the very centre of it, stood a large, round, king-sized bed and; by each side, white nightstands held the weight of frail lights. Crepuscular silk sheets enveloped the mattress, bathed by the vague lambency of neon; and you could sense the vague aroma of something sweet dancing in the atmosphere.
Nevertheless, those were not the important aspects of that space. You did not care for the deep purple curtains that ornamented the walls, nor for the mirror by your side that made you catch a glimpse of your own barely-covered figure. Your attention had been funneled to the large window that practically covered the wall opposite from where you stood — and the man that looked at the city below.
Behind his figure, the prismatic city lights scintillated like a million constellations. There was a thin line of turquoise phosphorescence that delineated his body, but, other than that, he was pure shadow — a black hole amidst a vivacious galaxy. Many meters beneath your secluded room, the muffled symphony of cars and effervescent conversations attempted to reach for your senses, but barely made through the silence that bloomed within that structure. It was far too perfect to be real and, yet, it immersed you so fully that you forgot, even for an instant, that you were inside an manmade world.
With the pushing of your fingertips, the door closed behind you. The man — Taehyung — appeared to get startled at the clicking noise, for his head quickly snapped away from the image of the kaleidoscopic city, and towards you. Taehyung had his hands deep in the pockets of his cream-colored suit once he turned around, his eyebrows slightly elevated in a muted inquisition, barely visible past the cascades of his soft hair strands. Once you saw his face, you could swear your heart forgot how to beat for an instant — he was absolutely handsome, ethereal almost, and his picture did him no justice.
Nervousness forgotten, you allowed for a dim smile to germinate upon your lips. “Hey,” you almost whispered, voice a lot softer than your usual timbre. You felt a bit stupid saying that, but it wasn’t as if you had a long line of groundbreaking introductions to choose from.
Taehyung’s eyes were wide in a mixture of surprise and nostalgia. “Rose,” he called your fake name with so much fluidity that you wished you could change it to your real one. The system had forgotten to notify you that the man had just enchantingly deep timbre, and that could be a problem — you would not respond for your own actions. “You showed up.”
You nodded, pushing your legs to move in his direction. The atmosphere felt thick, your lungs were barely able to suck the dense air in. “I did, Taehyung.”
The man suspired. “You look beautiful, my love,” he spoke underneath his breath, eyes glued to the movements of your figure. Against the blazing, yet scarce, lights of your room, his blonde strands of hair had decayed into a shade of pallid pink, and you loved it even more. Taehyung looked angelic, in the most demonic of ways. “I didn’t think you’d find me here.” He paused. “I didn’t think you wanted to.”
Dry — your throat felt so damn dry. If you could, you would skip that roleplaying part and jump straight to the action; especially now that you had seen him in “flesh”, and all the eroticism that encompassed his figure had completely asphyxiated you. Next time, you made a mental note to not go for any sort of roleplaying. “I did. I wanted — I want — it,” you responded slowly, walking in his direction. Your thoughts were disorganized, anarchic. “I... want you.”
Talk about being direct. Well, you had never been the most subtle person ever, anyways. It’s not as if you should get self-conscious about a simulation judging your eagerness to get inside his pants.
Taehyung smirked, pleased by your reaction. There was no way that man had been generated by a computer: he was so alluring that you could swear you had seen him somewhere before — perhaps in a renaissance painting, where diaphanous brushstrokes could ever so precisely construct the symmetry of features and actions. “I know that,” he verbalized — and of course he would be cocky too, because that was the essential ingredient when it came to cooking the Ruin-You recipe. “This is all for me, isn’t it?”
And of course, he was talking about your clothing — or lack thereof. “Yes,” you agreed. With a final step, you found yourself standing right before him — so close that, at every new inhale, you thought your chest would hit his. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, and felt as he placed his own on your hips. His skin was warm and, against yours, it felt like it was burning, setting your soul aflame. “All for you, Taehyung,” you repeated.  
Taehyung seemed to take a moment to dwell in your words, caliginous eyes continuously flickering downwards, attempting to catch glimpses of your body; explore the valley between your breasts. “Well, as much as you know I adore to see you like this...” he started, voice barely above a suspire. Beneath the fabric of his suit, you could feel his defined muscles moving as he massaged your body; squeezing your ass lightly. “I prefer when you’re wearing nothing.”
You looked up, meeting his tenebrous irises — vortexes of greed and lust, sucking you into a world you could not comprehend. As the words left you mouth, they did not feel like your own. “We can change that,” you proposed.
He hesitated. Just as you thought that Taehyung would respond, with his reddish lips opening to form a silent syllable, the darkness of his gaze deepened into a level that you could not fully grasp. The man’s eyelashes quivered lightly as his eyes met the delineation of your lips, and there they stayed. He leaned in.
Taehyung’s answer, instead, came in the form of a passionate kiss, and a subdued groan against your mouth.
His large hands departed from your lower body and, subsequently, cupped your cheeks as his lips parted in a warm welcome, a soft sigh coming from his throat once he felt your immediate reciprocation. Air was stuck inside your lungs as Taehyung kissed you with all he had, tasting the nectar of your lips, succumbing into you. His kiss passed a clear, palpable message: I want to have you all for myself. And I don’t want excuses.
And, fuck, you wanted him too.
That was why you didn’t stop him when his hands started trailing towards your clavicles, just to hook around the hem of your robe and pull it down your shoulders — a second later, it was merely a pool of translucent silk around your ankles. The fresh air embraced your figure then, and you could fully feel the asperous sensation of the man’s suit against your body.
Annoyed at the abundance of fabric in between you, you were quick to move your fingers to take off his own clothing. In due time, his suit jacket was already accompanying your robe on the hardwood floor, and your hands were using his blood-red tie to pull him closer to you, silently begging for more.
You knew that the hotel room was fake, but your experiences were very, very real. There was no way to mask the excitement that had taken over your limbs, nor the lewd expectation that had started to accumulate at the bottom of your abdomen. Taehyung knew exactly how to kiss you — he knew which pacing to follow, when to caress your tongue with his own; when to depart from your lips so he could meet the luscious skin of your exposed neck. He had been, quite literally, handmade for you, and you adored every second of it.
The man departed from your mouth, and navigated his lips towards your cheek, kissing the spot with unbearable softness. Taehyung suspired frequently, drowning in his own reverence at your form, as he trailed a path down your neck; biting as sucking your flesh in-between the wet touches of his mouth. “Love,” he called, his hoarse voice sending vibrations through your body, “Let’s be patient, we have the entire night for ourselves.”
Your only response had been a sigh, for you were aware that you could not speak anything else, even less play your part well. Many years before, you had been removed from the theater club for a reason — you could not act to save your life. And, frankly, you were in no position to do so.
As you would soon understand, though, Taehyung was everything but patient.
Sooner than you would admit, his dahlia-colored tie was on the ground, and your hands were fumbling to open the buttons of his white cotton shirt. Taehyung wasted no time either — his slender fingers were quick to undo the clasp of your bra, and throw it somewhere else as they moved to cup your breasts, to press them together. You whined at the contact, feeling as your arousal begun to present itself between your thighs.
In an unexpected action, Taehyung wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body closer to his, grunting in delight as soon as your nude chest met his own, and the hardness of his cock was felt at the bottom of your abdomen; poking against the light fabric of your underwear. The mere sensation was enough to make you sigh, your hands trailing downwards to meet the hem of his trousers in a blind search for his member.
The tingle of his kiss still lingered on your lips when his mouth, once again, came crashing down against yours; taking your breath away and making your legs weaken at the brusque, hunger-filled contact. That kiss was dramatically different, for his movements had turned much harsher, filled with impatience and lasciviousness. You couldn’t say that you disliked it —  in fact, you probably liked it a bit more than you should.
The separation of your mouths pushed a frustrated exclamation out of your throat. With firm hands, Taehyung guided you downwards, sitting you on the edge of the spacious bed — your hips bounced as you met the velvety mattress; your eyes darting up to look at him once again.
Whatever complaint that you had started to construct within your mind came crumbling down once you met his expression. The picture the program had presented could never do any justice to the ethereal beauty that stood before you; the redness of his tongue as it came out to wet his plump lips, the thickness of his eyelashes as he lethargically blinked, taking in the desire of your form. His white shirt had been opened halfway through, and you instantly met the outline of his muscles through the thin fabric; his golden-kissed skin shining alongside the colorful phosphorescence of the room.
Taehyung could have been just a product of your digitally-enhanced imagination for all you cared, but, then and there, he was made of flesh and blood; wrapped around the purest curtain of ravenousness. Furthermore, with the new angle, so came the image of his own throbbing member, now much closer to you.
Your eyes fell to his erection, mouth watering— he was already hard, as you had felt aforetime, and the outline of his cock pressed strongly against his pants. As ephemeral as that instant of amazement was, it showed you just how wise you had been to base your decision on the size difference.
Ephemeral because, as you soon noticed, Taehyung seemed to have the same focus as you did, and was quick to cover your view. Before you could even construct a basic thought about what was given to you, the man cupped himself over his clear pants, groaning once he experienced the sensation his hand provided. “You’re making me so horny, baby,” he moaned out, biting down on his lower lip. “I can barely hold myself back.”
With exhausted limbs and parted eyes, you stared up as he started to stroke himself over his cream-colored trousers, hissing at his own neediness. The image was so erotic that you swore you could faint at the spot — luckily, though, your simulated version had a bit more endurance than that. “Then don’t,” you vocalized, your own tone muffled by your concupiscence.
Your actions — from the movement of your fingers to the words that left you — felt alien to you. Not because the simulation was bad, god knows it was amazing, but because you felt as if you had reached for a level of freedom that real life could never give you. Perhaps that was why Paradise 17 was so popular: besides your fantasies, it was also permeated with the possibility of acting out without fear of social consequences. You had full control of the scene, and it molded itself to fit your wishes. It was far too tempting for you to overlook it.
Regardless, those philosophical meditations could wait. There were far more important elements taking shape before you.
Taehyung’s nostrils flared up as his digits started to tease his crown through the fabric, permitting a ponderous exhale to depart from his chest — the sensation was numbed and, yet, it made his eyelids grow heavy as he stared down at your form. “I don’t plan to,” he spoke in a hushed tone, appearing as if he had utilized every ounce of his self-control to do so. “Want to feel it? How hard I am for you?”
The aching between your legs was getting intolerable, at it filled your mind with hazy clouds of craving. As your stare oscillated down to his pants — where you could notice a small wet spot of pre-cum starting to accumulate amongst the material — you swore all the remnants of your apprehension had left you behind. “Yes.” You swallowed dry, sitting up straight. You were out of your senses, but not enough to disregard such tempting proposal, especially when his velvety tone felt so deliciously inviting.
You had to battle against a moan that started to form at the tip of your tongue when your fingers met the textile of his pants — and, right underneath it, the hardness of his cock. Delicately, you started to stroke its sides, feeling as his member twitched in your hands; then the wetness of his pre-cum when you dared to tease his slit. From miles underneath the sea, you heard Taehyung’s breath being caught in his throat, his abs clenching as he drowned in your feather-like movements. “Can I cum in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked, rather suddenly. You heart almost jumped out of your chest. “Do you want to suck me off?”
“Yes,” you responded just as rapidly. Once again, the proposal was too good to be neglected. “I do.”
Above you, the sound of Taehyung’s chuckle reverberated throughout the consolidated air. He seemed to find some sort of diversion amongst your dissimulated distress, the eagerness you tried to mask as you fumbled to open his buttons. “You love my cock, don’t you?” his voice was dangerously deeper as he asked, clearly amused. And there it was: your first of many kink choices for the night. Cock worship. You could do that. “You can tell me, love, you know how much I like to hear it.”
However, your response did not come so fast. With measured movements, you slided his trousers —  and boxers —  down his legs, your arousal only increasing as his erection was freed from its confinements. Slightly flabbergasted at the perfection of his form, you observed attentively every particularity that surrounded Taehyung: the shaky breath that left him as his member touched the cool air of the room, already soaked by its own nectar; the flinching of his limbs as you dared to move closer to him, magnetized by the frail neon aura that bathed his flesh. It was a heavenly picture, to say the least, and it was yours to have a taste of.
Still, you reminded yourself that he needed an answer, and your inner conflicts would have to be put on hold, at least for the time being. “Yes, I do…” You trailed off, placing one of your hands around his base. It felt so heavy against your palm, so thick. You bit back a moan once you thought about how good his cock would feel inside you, how amazingly it could fill you up. God bless impromptu decisions, and god bless the cravings of the flesh. “I love it so much.”
Nonchalantly, you tilted your head closer to his center, and your tongue met his crown, flat, then started to draw circular movements against his reddened skin; teasing his opening just enough to earn a muffled cry for more. As you would soon learn, Taehyung was sensitive to even the most timid of caresses, and even his dominating aura could not disguise the need that overruled his mind.
You felt as his fingers intertwined with the strands of your hair, pushing at the top of your head, wordlessly imploring for more. Above you, the boy grunted and cursed, closing his eyes to savor that moment the best he could. “That’s it, baby,” Taehyung eagerly praised, almost as if talking to himself. “Just take it all.”
He didn’t have to ask twice, for every other option was outrageous to even consider.
With a sigh, you placed your lips, rather tenderly, around the head of his cock, and suckled lightly, barely teasing him. You leaned back enough so you could speak, your breath hitting his member in thin clouds of heat. “You’re so hard,” you spoke, angling your head slightly to the right. You licked your path from his base to his top, and heard as a dragged-out grunt broke just behind his clenched teeth. Even the salty taste of his precum felt awfully realistic, you though in a moment of surprise; the texture of his swollen skin was perfect. “So big, Taehyung.”
“All yours, love.” He exhaled. As much as his timbre was somewhat controlled, his actions were not, and the roughness of which he held to your hair only presented his hunger further. “I’m so close already, just looking you is enough to make me cum.”  
Now, there were some things that you didn’t precisely think about, but that would appear in the midst of your thoughts regardless. At that instant, the mental depiction of Taehyung coming all over your lips, untouched and trembling at his own release, hit you like a tidal wave, washing away all traces of logic that still lingered inside you. You could see it, in a way, hanging like a sword over his head, reflecting at the bottom of his parted eyes — the man was reaching closer to the edges of his self-control and, between your fingers, his member was painfully enlarged, begging to be caressed.
And that was all you needed to stop teasing him. Go figure, you weren’t that patient either.
Taehyung’s body jolted forward when your mouth wrapped around his cock, and you pushed yourself closer to it, sinking it inside your mouth. He, too, lost the ability to hold back his actions, for the hand that held to your hair closed around your strands with even more force, marking the rhythm of your movements, fighting to pull your head closer to his hips. You hummed at how good it felt, regardless of the sudden rush of pain. You loved it rough, and that had been precisely what you had went for.
“Oh, that’s it. You feel so fucking good,” he cried out in an astounding instant of adoration, every small movement of your tongue against his member made him buckle his lower body towards you; a groan bubbling on his throat. “Take me deeper, baby,” he pleaded.
Obedient, you leaned your body forwards, causing for his cock to hit even deeper inside your mouth. Progressively, you relaxed your throat so you could take even more of his large member in, and grew surprised at how easy it was — apparently your simulated self had no notion of a gag reflex, and that could be used in your favor. All hail the horny programmers that had made that moment possible.
You hummed around his member, taking him whole — or, as much as you could, while your other hand worked massaging his base. Even if it was slightly bothersome the way it ached the back of your throat, you could ignore it; instead focusing on the way his voice resounded around the room; moans and cries echoing around you as he thrusted inside your mouth, delighting in the amazing way you felt around him; chest rising and falling in heavy pants. “Fuck yeah,” Taehyung sobbed, thrusting his hips against your mouth in pure jubilation. “Just like th— shit, your mouth feels so fucking amazing—”
There had been failed attempts to find some sort of relief by slightly thrusting your center against the silky bed sheets, but that was clearly not even close to being sufficient, and it only served to make you even hornier, teasing your clit lightly. You had guessed that such part of the simulation wouldn’t last for long, since your pleasure was the main one to be taken into consideration by the program, and you had completely soaked your underwear by the point that Taehyung’s words were completely lost amongst a tide of broken moans.
Much to your delight, you were correct.
“I'm gonna cum, baby,” Taehyung warned, his member throbbing and twitching between your lips. His every action was a silent bargain for more of your mouth — to take him deeper, faster, to allow him to fuck himself against your soft tongue as you sucked him. Since you weren’t a fan of prolonging his — and by consequence, your — suffering, you did as he expected, and the reaction was instantaneous. “Oh, fuck—”
With a last, breathless whimper, he released inside your mouth; fingers grasping to your hair as you moaned around him, allowing for him to fill you with his cum. Only then, when his amazingly deep voice cried out the shattered syllables of your (fake) name and his thighs begun to tremble underneath the weight of his satisfaction, did you fully notice that you could move away from his cock, for he was already flinching with overstimulation.
After you had swallowed his release, you looked up at him. A dim, fucked-out smirk decorated his lips as his eyes found your own, presenting you with the felicity that had took over him.
Taehyung was still inhaling heavily as he took his thumb to clean one of the corners of your mouth, unhurriedly guiding it to part your red-bitten lips. “You look so pretty like this…” he praised, watching as you sucked on his thumb, swallowing the remnants of his cum. He sighed. “Love, you’re driving me crazy. Lay down for me, let me take care of you.”
You swore you almost cried out in relief as he said so, mind completely focused on the wetness that had pooled in-between your legs. Regardless, your only form of agreement was a long, drawn-out sigh as you moved away from his figure and did as he ever so pleasantly requested.
With fluid movements that did not show your overwhelming craving for his touches, you leaned your torso back, and threw yourself on the mattress, amongst the mountains of the silk sheets, and slightly pushed your body towards the center of the circular bed. As you did so, however, your eyes promptly met… you own.
God have mercy, of course there would be a mirror on the ceiling.
There was a short-lived moment of surprise as you followed the cascade of your hair on the mirror, irradiating around your head; the iridescent lights that contoured your exposed breasts; and the red marks that delineated your mouth. The person on the mirror looked both like yourself and a different version of if, barely a lost phantasm living amongst the shadows of that hotel. It was a paradoxical position: it felt like an hallucination, and yet a vivid part of reality.
Before you could ruminate on that piece of information any further, though, another figure came into focus on the reflection. Taehyung had taken off his last piece of clothing — his shirt — and had kneeled before you, fingertips landing on your thighs and pushing your legs apart. “Keep’em open for me, baby,” he whispered, overtaken by devotion. His voice was husky, enthralling. “Let me see what you’re giving me tonight.”
Your eyes darted away from the mirror, and towards him. “Taehyung,” you called out, shame long forgotten. The flame of carnality that burned at the bottom of your abdomen was overbearing, scorching your skin and turning your contemplations into ashes. There was nothing else that you needed but to feel him. “Please, just hurry.”
He placed his hands on either side of your head, finding support on the malleable fabric, and placing himself between your legs. Taehyung’s figure blocked out the obfuscus luminescence that came from the outside world, and the heat of his skin managed to be overwhelming, as bright as the lambency that shone within his gaze.
Against your expectations, though, the man didn’t laugh at the vocalization of your painful needs. Instead, Taehyung steadily lowered his body to your level, placed a prolonged kiss on your lips, and then moved down to your collarbones, his tongue writing poetry against your skin. He maintained his sluggish path as his large hands caressed your tits, pressing them together and grunting as he felt your nipples hardening underneath his touch.
“Taehyung,” you called out his name like it was a prayer — it was no time to tease you like that. “I want more.”
He hummed and departed from your bosom, kissing and licking down your stomach, your waist, your hips. Pushing your legs apart — which had once again closed in a natural defense against his erotic touches — Taehyung trailed up the invisible course on the inner part of your thigh, moving nearer to where you needed him the most. His lips were soft as feathers, warm as the flames of hell, and his tongue marked ancient spells on your skin.
God, you were doomed.
“Ah, love, you're dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe, moving his palms towards your oversensitive center. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart.
The heath of his mouth met the cotton of your underwear, his lips circling your covered clit just right. He wanted to tease you further, but he knew you were in no position to endure it. “I just want to have a taste of you, love…” Taehyung trailed off, two of his slender fingers curling around the hem of your panties, pulling them down with umberable patience. The brush of his skin against yours was gentle, but enough to have a sigh leave your mouth — his voice was something you just fucking loved to hear, sweet as honey and deep as the libido the bloomed within your chest. “Fuck, look at you…”
Licking his plump lips in expectation, the boy stared in hidden fascination as he uncovered your soaked center, presenting him with a luscious view of your dripping sex. With a reverberating, satisfied groan, Taehyung placed one of his fingers on your entrance, playing with your wetness, barely teasing his way in. “You're all ready for me, babe,” he praised in a suspire, lowering his head to take a closer look at you. When he spoke, his hot breath hit the skin of your inner thighs. “God, you'll make me go crazy. I can't wait to make you cum around my cock.”
Your pulse quickened at the idea, causing for you to raise your hips against the motions of his expert digits. Through your parted lids, your gaze met his cock — already hard and throbbing against his abdomen, ready for another round. In real life, that would have taken a bit longer than a couple minutes, but, then again, Paradise 17 knew what it was doing.  
Taehyung hummed once again, content with your physical response — the whines that broke upon your tongue, and the trembling breaths that got trapped in your fast-beating chest. His nose brushed its path along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your heat, while his fingers moved to rub your clit at a slow pace, coating it with your own moisture. “Will you be a good girl for me?” Taehyung questioned in a mumble — God, that voice was going to be the end of you. “Will you do what I ask you to?”  
“Yeah…” you agreed in a whimper, respiration getting heavier by each torturous second. It was awfully annoying the way he grew confident at your distress — Taehyung’s gaze was one of pure cockiness, making you clench your teeth as you attempted to get more friction from his touches; the ghost of his plump lips against your sensitive skin. “Yes, just let me…oh fuck—”
Before you could even prepare yourself for it, Taehyung had moved his hand down, and entered one finger inside you, delighting in the way you clenched around him. “Just let you what?” the boy provoked, raising his head away from your heat, watching as your fingers dug to the sheets by your side. It was no fantastic discovery the fact that Taehyung had deliciously long fingers, but, once he added the second one, you were already starting to lose the terminal remnants of your self-control. “I couldn’t hear you, baby.”
Outside the concupiscent walls of Paradise 17, you would have never seen yourself as much of a submissive person, but Taehyung managed to turn that around rather quickly. And, as his movements grew more frantic, you lost yourself. “Taehyung, please,” you cried out, closing your eyes in absolute bliss. You could feel yourself getting lighter as your orgasm approached, chest rising and falling as you seeked your release. “Please, let me cum.”
Taehyung inhaled sharply at the inflections of your needy speech, groaning once he felt the throbbing of his own hard member against the bed. Around his fingers, you clenched and released, signaling that you weren’t far from your high. “Good girl,” he praised, repositioning himself to get closer to you.
In an action that was a bit too mercurial for your foggy mind to follow, his mouth was working on your clit with an unprecedented hunger, fingers completely sinking inside you. Taehyung grunted as he sucked on your sensitive spot, feeling as your walls tightened around his fingers, your juices soaking the path down his digits, and onto his hand. Hard and heavy, his cock twitched and rubbed against the bed every time you whined out his name, at every new, needy moan that dares to reverberate past your tongue.
When moved back, you could sense his shallow breaths reaching for your clit in small puffs of air. “Will you cum on my tongue? You know I love how you taste.” His charges got a bit faster, reaching deep inside you. Every once in a while, he would part his fingers ever so slightly, which you were sure it was a way to prepare you for his big member.
You could not be in the best state of mind then, but you could remember perfectly how thick he was as he was pressed against you, or as he filled your mouth, and the recalling was more than sufficient to push an answer out of your arid throat.
“Yes, yes, please,” you struggled to speak out, the right words flying away from your grasp. Your mind was already getting overwhelmed by the constant stimulation, the eminent arrival of your release turning your thoughts into absolute pandemonium — something that only worsened once you felt his tongue flat against your clit, losing no time in massaging it in gradual, deliciously circular motions. “Oh my god,” you gasped, hands flying to grip his soft strands of hair.
His digits curved upwards, hitting your sweet spot with no effort. You threw your head back, feeling as your pleasure expanded by the second, “Taehyung,” you called out in a whimper, rolling your hips against his hand. Weak, your knees felt like they were made of jello as he continued his movements, using his fingers to open your entrance wider, hitting you deeper. You were hanging just over the edge, and one last push was all you needed. “Right there, fuck. I’m going to—”
And the last push arrived in the form of a low, guttural moan against your heat. Just like Taehyung had requested, you came on his tongue, and gladly so. As your legs trembled under the hit of your first orgasm, your fingers held tightly to the roots of his hair, riding out your high against the intoxicating movements of his tongue against your clitoris. You cried out what resembled the pieces of his name in an exasperated exhale, drowning in the intercalated waves of heat and iceness that ran up and down your spine.
When Taehyung departed from in-between your legs and sat back on the bed, his roseate tongue came out, licking the remnants of your liquids on his plump lips, and taking his fingers to his mouth to do the same. “You taste so good…” the boy trailed off, the mere image turning into the hottest thing you had ever seen. As he looked at you, however, you observed that his eyes were a bit emptier than before. “Do you want to continue?” he inquired.
As soon as those words left his swollen, wet lips, you noticed that his timbre had decayed into a neutral one, and instantly noticed that it was the simulation asking for your consent. Better safe than sorry, you guessed.
Then again, if you were there, you might as well go all out.
You licked your lips, looking down at his own — his mouth was completely covered by your juices, shining against the dim magenta lights like small diamonds. “Yes,” you responded. That simple sentence took all of your spiritual strength; even the steadiness of your voice was hanging by a thread. “I want more.”
Much to your delight, that appeared to be all that he necessitated to keep your night moving along, for his gaze drew back to the same fathomless expansion that had been ruling over your thoughts. If there were any fragments of his robotic, pre-programming self still living within that hotel room, they soon vanished as he began to speak again.
“Ah, love, you're still dripping for me,” the boy complimented in awe. With lustful appetite scintillating behind his eyes, Taehyung took two of his fingers back to your folds; but, instead of entering you, they simply dwelled at your wetness, earning a low groan from him as he pushed them apart, then trailed softly towards your clit. The contact made you shake, air stuck in your lungs. “Fuck, you're soaking the bed, baby. Is that how much you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, Taehyung, please,” you whined out, trying to move your core against him. However, to your frustration, his other hand moved quicker than your intentions, and it held your hips in place. Such an annoying little tease you had gotten for yourself. “Stop with this and just fuck me.”
Again, so much for being subtle. Then again, as much as Taehyung was playing the dominating part in that piece of virtual heaven, your wishes were the ones to be taken into consideration, especially when they were worded in such urgent manner. Quite literally, it bottomed down to the fact that you wished for him to fuck you, and so he would.
Without warning, as he often liked to act, the boy positioned himself between your legs. Taehyung took his hand away from your core and wrapped it around his member, using it to guide himself past your folds. He started by teasing his head in, making you get used to his size, before, at last, sinking the rest of his length inside; the delicious way of your walls stretched open to accommodate his cock making you to fall back against the mattress in a silent plea.
Taehyung was a quivering mess as he breathed out, fighting back a groan of satisfaction. His hands returned to rest on each side of your head, and his chest lowered, getting closer to your own. “Shit, I could just slip right in,” he told you, slowly pulling his hips back, leaving only the tip of his member in, just to shove himself back inside you. Once again, he repeated the action, starting with a slower rhythm, filling you to the brim. “You feel so fucking good, babe, fuck…”
Your only reply had been a restrained moan, and the wrapping of your legs around his waist. Taehyung was thick, reaching every possible spot inside you and leaving you in a storm of moans and torn supplications; fingers holding to the bed sheets in a shallow, frustrated attempt to hold yourself back to rationality.
With furrowed brows, Taehyung closed his eyes in concentration. Gradually, his hips started to lose precision in their pushes, and his rhythm was a scattered combination of movements; following the symphony of his constant groans and moans, fucking you much faster — rougher — than before. “You like this?” he panted.
“Yeah,” you said. He rolled his hips against you, fucking you so well that you saw stars forming constellations before your eyes. “Go deeper, ple—”
But he had already understood your request, and loud exclamation of delight dropped from your bruised lips, interrupting your sentence. You felt as his member, thick and throbbing, entered you deeper, stretching you wide and hitting all the lovely spots. “Like this?” he whispered in a hoarse voice, unable to hold back his own cries of delectation. His pouty lips wrote your fate on the surface of your soft cheeks, moving towards your neck once again. “Is this okay?”
“Oh fuck, yeah, just like this,” you cried out, closing your eyes in utter ecstasy as he did what you requested. Taehyung made sure to bring his hips back — his tip almost leaving your heat — before slamming himself back in, rolling his hips slightly so he could reach the all the places you loved so much with each feral thrust. The heat of his breaths against your skin was constant, but it could never win against the sensations that spreaded throughout your body. “Don’t stop, oh my god.”
Sooner than you would like, your second orgasm of the night hit you like a tidal wave, making you cry out his name again and again; your previous line of thought forgotten. You closed your eyes in endless, euphoric bliss, dwelling in the way he continued to fuck you through your high; knees shaking and arms far too weak to hold down to the bed.
Still, he fulfilled your request, and didn’t stop even after you had come undone.
“Taehyung,” you called, voice no more than a frail exclamation floating around the air. Your body was thrown up and down as he fucked you hard, the sound of sheets beneath of skin combining perfectly with the deep moans that left the boy. Taehyung was so strong in his thrusts that even the sensation of your boobs bouncing turned into a ocean of jubilation. “I already c-came.”
He inhaled sharply, hands meeting the curvature of your waist. The heat of his palms sent shivers down your spine; the frown of pleasure that overtook his features was enough to erase all your flabbergasted contemplations. “But you feel so perfect,” the boy praised, his storm-like advances becoming more and more inconsistent by the second; fingers holding to your flesh almost possessively. “Do one more for me, baby, come on. Cum for me.”
If it had been in real life, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to pull that off, but, since the context was different, the task did not feel as impossible as it seemed. “O-Okay,” you agreed in a stutter, reality seeming to be eons away. You were too weak to even protest, not that you really wanted to. “For you.”
And bless Paradise 17 for making your simulated body recover faster than your real one ever could, because it didn’t take much longer until your oversensibility gave way to a new wave of euphoria.
You bit your lip then, hard, trapping a whimper behind your teeth as you felt Taehyung maintain his strong actions, his eyes glued to the soft bouncing of your boobs; lips vaguely parted to form a silent syllable. Everything was becoming too much: his moans were too constant, yet so muffled; the pigmentation of the room contrasted with the bright lights from outside. The world was coming to a sudden halt, and your focus could barely hold itself to one single fragment of that room — the buildings that tried to reach the skyline beyond the window glass; then back to the sweat that accumulated between your bodies; then flickering to the clenching of Taehyung’s jaw as he felt your walls tightening around him.
But then, when you started to believe you were going to cum for another time, the man ceased his movements, and drew away from your body.
The absence of his touch — and subsequently, of his member inside you — was like a shock that ran through your limbs, making your eyes immediately dart open. You found your own discombobulated gaze on the mirror above and, besides that, the retrieving of his figure as he moved away from your own.
You pushed yourself to seat up.  “Taehyung, what—”
“Hold on, baby, it won’t take long,” he requested, interrupting your ‘what the fuck are you doing?’, and leaning over the bed’s edge, reaching for the crepuscular nightstand. Taehyung opened the drawer in a swift movement and you heard something roll inside it, meeting the wood. “I want you to feel even better. You can lay down.”
Fighting back against your true desires, you did as he requested. Above you, your reflected body was covered in cherry-covered marks — all the way to the deep colors on your neck, to the ghostly pressing of his hands on your breasts and hips. The realization of Taehyung’s true roughness only made your craving reach further, rupturing upon your tongue in the form of a breathless suspire. “Tae, please.”
Taehyung lived up to his promise and, within a second, he was already crawling back towards you. “I’m here, love.” He smirked rather amicably — though, in his eyes, shone the flame of his prolonged self-indulgence. “I have something for you.”
You were about to ask what he was talking about when you saw the small, pink-colored object in his hands, and you understood where he was getting at. Of course: you did select vibrators after all. Cheers for stupid decisions.
And cheers for Taehyung for acting before you could even construct a response.
The contact of the vibrator against your clit made you cry out instantly — your body was unaware of the small period that it had been privated from his touches, for you were right back where you stopped, and lust, once again, ran through your veins.
You clenched around nothing and, in an automatic movement, you looked down at his throbbing member. Promptly, you observed how his cock was swollen, ready to cum once again, begging to be touched, to fill you up just the way you loved it. The mere sight of him made you whimper in expectation, your abdomen flinching as the vibrations continued to spread. “Taehyung, p-please,” you begged again. The pressure inside your core was too intense, you just needed to release it. You couldn’t hold back for much longer. “I’m gonna cum like t-this if you don’t hurry.”
Luckily, Taehyung, as you had noted, wasn’t the biggest fan of holding back either. With the fluid movements of a running river, he moved back in between your legs, and placed them over his thighs, angling you perfectly to receive him once again.
One second later, he had already slipped back inside you, and his rough advances resumed.
Sweat had accumulated at the bottom of your spine, and the world just felt too dense to even breathe properly; even less to construct abstract sentences. You begged for your body to just made you cum at once, because you didn’t know how long you could endure that torture for.
Yet, Taehyung wasn’t completely satisfied with your position. With a strong motion, he took one of your hands and placed it over the vibrator, making you hold it firmly against your sensitive spot. The pressure became more intense, and you felt as if your lungs were on fire. “Keep it there, baby,” Taehyung instructed with a hoarse voice, his hips beginning to take a more violent pace. The vibrations against your clit were becoming too much, and you felt as if you could reach your high again at any time now. “Yeah, that’s right. Feels good?”
You bit down on your lower lip, fingertips trembling against the vibrator. “T-Taehyung,” you called in a whimper, looking up to meet the mirror on the ceiling. You could see the motions of his back muscles with perfection, his hips advancing against yours repetitively; your own, needy eyes staring back at you in an unspoken bargain. God, the man fucked you like a machine and, in a way, he was one. “Taehyung, it’s too much…”
Like a whisper inside your mind, your safe word came in a silent proposal — but you quickly overlooked it. You didn’t want it to stop. Not yet.
“Yes, baby, fuck,” he groaned, making sure to add more and more force to his eager thrusts. Shit, you could feel him throbbing inside you, fucking you raw. You moaned and cried, knees shaking as you pressed down the pink vibratior to your clit, the contact adding to the hypnotic, harsh thrusts of his cock in and out of you. The scorching, frenzied waves in your lower body were becoming unbearable, ready to come crumbling down at any given instant. “Cum on my cock, please, baby…”
And that was the final drop. You didn’t know if it was his stupidly corny pet names or the overwhelming movement of his large member inside you, but, honestly, you didn’t care. It could have been a combination of those factors, or perhaps something entirely different. The point was that you had reached your breaking point, and your body could not take it any longer.
You wanted to beg for him to go on, to fuck you harder, deeper, faster; but you couldn’t find the words to do so. You reached for the stars, and there you stayed. As your lips opened, only a choked moan came out, eyes closing as your climax washed like currents throughout your body — making your knees tremble and your stomach clench up. Your nails dug to the skin of his back as you called out his name, your weak voice coming in fragments because of the force of his thrusts.
He, too, could not take much longer. “I’m gonna cum,” Taehyung said in a groan, hitting impossibly deep inside you. Though your climax, you really felt how big he was, keeping you in your place as you tightened around him. “Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect, so tight, I’m— oh, shit.“
You felt as his cock throbbed inside you as he came undone, his thrusts getting more erratic as his voice was sliced by moans and grunts, your name being thrown in the form of disconnected sounds. He fucked you through his high like he had promised: roughly, giving you no space to recover, and only stopped when you complained at the oversensibility.
Taehyung, at last, let out a final, exhausted curse before he moved away from your body, rolling next to you on that king-sized bed. For an instant, silence filled the space between the two of you. Then, the forsaken inquiry resounded once again. “Do you want to continue?” he asked, his throaty voice navigating the air like disembodied sin.
The vibrator was turned off, and you placed it in between the two of you — quivering fingers and sliced breaths echoing in between your sweaty bodies. You swallowed dry, taking an instant to fully organize your thoughts. The sensation of your orgasm still lingered within your bones, and you could swear your centre still felt the vibrations of the object.
“Yes,” you said in a blunt, reckless decision. “Yes please, I want more. Just one more.”
“Are you sure? There’s no need to be greedy.” Taehyung smirked at the eagerness that lingered behind your lips, barely vocalized within your fragmented syllables. As the man lethargically turned his chest towards you, your gaze followed the movement of his cock — still so deliciously swollen, vaguely coated by the whiteness of his release — as thumped against the softness of the mattress, begging to be caressed once again. “I’ll understand if you want to stop for today, love.”
You licked your lips, attention oscillating between his dark charcoal eyes and the throbbing of his member. There was something terribly hot about the way that Taehyung was still hard, and traces of hornyness could still be found lingering just at the back of his smile.
The man, just like every other computer-generated personality in that simulation, had been perfectly coded to be the best partner you would ever have, and he certainly lived up — and surpassed — your expectations. And, to top all of that, the atmosphere of Paradise 17 was, on itself, aphrodisiac. It consumed you from the inside out, making you base your decisions on the desires of the flesh, and not your rational impulses. Outside the simulation, you would have never agreed to another round of that cardio exercise, but, then and there, any other option seemed far too preposterous to even consider.
So, when your answer left your lips, you were not precisely left surprised.
“I can do one more.”
A deep chuckle reverberated within his chest, and he moved slowly to sit up on the bed, back pressed against the headboard. Manners forgotten, one of his hands curled around his aching cock, fingers teasing his slit as he took in your fucked-out image. Taehyung hissed at the sensitivity of his member, twitching painfully at the absence of your heat; a long, guttural moan breaking upon his lips as he spoke again. “Look what you do to me,” his chest quivered as his spoke, panting breaking his words into breathless pleas. “I’m still so horny.”
The image of him jerking off was just too hot to handle, and certainly not something you had been psychologically ready to endure. Taehyung moaned, his own eyes falling to the rapid movements of his fingers against his pulsating length; droplets of sweat glistening on his forehead, shining over the roseate hue of his cheeks. From the clenching of his abs and the rise and fall of his hips, you could tell that he was working his way past the painful sensitivity of his last two orgasms. You desperately wanted to watch him cum like that, but you knew that he was just teasing you further.
Which, by the way, really fucking worked.
Taehyung grunted as his hand continued its movements, eyes falling shut as the delightful sensation of his actions started to work its way around his body. “I can’t hold myself back when I’m around you, baby, you make me so hard.” He threw his head back against the soft headboard, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard, attempting to hold back a whine. You didn’t even care that you were in a simulation then, you just wanted to have him again. “Will you take me well, babe?”
“So well.” You breathed out, biting your lower lip as his actions increased in speed. Taehyung was starting to lose himself in his own bliss, enchanted by the sinful images you presented him. The view he gifted you — sweaty hair and closed eyes; parted lips coated by your nectar; and constant, needy moans — was driving you insane, eagerness taking over you once again. “Taehyung, please, I need to feel you… I’ll take you well, please…”
“Ah, babe.” Taehyung sighed, opening his eyes just enough so you could notice the way his irises shone in absolute lust — he looked like a piece of inferno wrapped in the ethereality of paradise, from the way his hair was gleaming in droplets sweat to the clenching of his abs. “You’re such a good girl for me, fuck… Get up.”
And that request was all you necessitated. With expeditious movements, you stood up besides the bed and, instantaneously, felt as his cum began to drip in between your legs, running down your thighs. What a fucking mess, you thought. If it hadn't been a simulation, you would have definitely cleaned yourself up before anything else — not that you thought your real body could have endured all of that, plus what was coming, but still.
“Move closer to the window, let me see you.” Taehyung delicately requested, as he leisurely let go of his member and watched it bounce against his abdomen, aching for you. As you did as you were told, you felt the weakness of your legs beneath you, and the unspoken promise that they would give out at any instant.
You didn’t know what it was, but you just loved the way that Taehyung seemed so horny to have you again and again, unable to keep his hands off himself as he watched you — from the movement of your wet thighs to the suave bouncing of your breasts — as you moved towards the kaleidoscopic glass, momentaneously hesitant, waiting for more of his orders.
Soon enough, they came.
Taehyung got up, and ran one hand through his sweaty strands of hair, pushing it back and showing you his furrowed brows. He looked like lucifer then, owner of such enveloping aura that you could lose yourself in the labyrinth of his fathomless gaze. “Love,” he began, “Tell me what you want.”
As he took one step toward you, you took one behind, and your back me the gelid window. Air was trapped within the walls of your throat, both from the contact of the surface and the tension that lingered between the two of you. “I just want to have you,” you spoke out. And that was the pure truth. “I don’t care how.”
He smiled. “Whatever my girl wants, she gets,” Taehyung told you with uncharacteristic kindness, gaze falling to the alluring forms of your body, the vague trembling of your knees. Two of his fingers traced down the path between your breasts, his voice coming out lower as an order came out of his lips. “Turn your back to me.”
Eager, you followed Taehyung’s command immediately. Before you, in his phantasm-like reflection, you saw the way he bit down on his lower lip, groaning as he noticed your growing wetness.
“Ass up for me, love,” Taehyung murmured from behind you, his hoarse timbre sending shivers down your spine. Once again, you did as he said, perking up your hips and finding support with your palms against the window. “That's it, baby.” Lackadaisically, his digits contoured the curvature of your ass, groping at your flesh tightly. He knew about your desire, and took his time to tease you — next time, you would make sure to get the most impatient partner you could find. “Just look at you, all ready for me.”
You whined at the sensation of his big cock bumping against your heat as he stepped even closer, your core clenching around nothing. “Taehyung, please—” Heavy breaths painted pictures of diaphanous clouds against the window, and the polychromatic city lights became foggy underneath it. Outside, you could see the outline of other people passing in front of windows, and something fell at the pit of your stomach — were you on online mode? Were those real people using the system?
Did you even care?
Not really.
Behind you, Taehyung chuckled at your distress, and the sound reverberated through your breastbone. “Look at that,” he provoked. Against your clit, you felt the tip of his cock, and the mere contact made you gasp in anticipation — you felt so empty, you needed him again, just one last time. “All those people are watching you get fucked. Isn’t that lovely?”
Lost amongst your blurred thought, you closed  your eyes as you felt the sensation of his member rubbing itself in-between your folds. Taehyung was still vaguely covered by his own pre-cum, and your wetness lubed his way perfectly. If you angled your lower body just enough, you’d be able to feel the slow, dragged-out grinding of his throbbing ache against your entrance and convince yourself, even if for an instant, that his grinding would cease, and he would end your torture by spreading you open.
Nevertheless, that illusion of pleasure was short-lived.
A sharp, burning pain spread across your asscheek as it came in contact with his palm, making you jolt your body forward in a mixture of surprise and delectation. And there it was: spanking. You knew there was something still missing from your checklist of kinks.
“Answer me, love,” Taehyung almost hissed against the skin of your neck. “I asked you a question.”
You took a second to even remember what question he was referring to, and three more to conjure an answer — or something even remotely close to that. “Yes, yes it is,” you said. You had no idea what he wanted you to respond, and the grinding of his cock against your folds didn’t make your mind any less fogged.
Once again, he laughed at your distressed words. This time however, the softness of his deep chuckles was accompanied by the tenderness of his palm against the same area he had hit. “Well.” Taehyung breathed out, pushing your hair away from your neck. He planted a kiss on your skin, and his hands found the curvature of your waist. “We should put on a show, then. Don’t you think so?”
As much as you would adore the idea of him forcing another answer out of you, you pushed your tired vocal chords to formulate the words of your agreement. “I do, yeah.”
He hummed, and took one of his hands to guide himself to your entrance. “Let’s start, then,” Taehyung mumbled. With the heavy breaths that departed from his lips, and the hunger that was reflecting in his eyes, you could tell that he did not want to prolong that instant for longer than necessary.
Taehyung entered you with one long, swift motion, allowing for you to get, once again, used to his size. In the phantasmagorical reflection of the foggy window, you catched glimpses of his own face, contorted by fervorous hunger, as he felt the way you opened himself to him.
You pressed your forehead against the glass as he held tighter to your flesh, gasping at the feeling. This time, he wasn’t really focusing on thrusting inside you, but on pushing and pulling your body against his cock, making you do most of the job. “Taehyung, you’re so big,” you choked out without much thought, back arching as his hips begun to move, sliding in and out of you, then starting to take on a more violent, rapid rhythm. “It feels so good, fuck.”
Mindlessly, your hips perked up, seeking for a new angle. It was probably the amount of times you had come already — two? three? You couldn’t even remember — but you could tell that your body was not going to be able to endure that sensation for much longer. That certainty, however, presented itself once Taehyung moved to pull your ass up, while fucking you deeper, and happened to hit your sweet spot.
“Oh my god, Taehyung, right there. Don’t stop,” you begged. Against the glass, your fingers slid down, leaving behind the marks of your hand. The world outside was nothing but a blur, and you did not care for anyone else that could catch a glimpse of your decay into perdition.  “I’m so close already.”
“Me too,” Taehyung responded in a whisper. Inside you, his member throbbed and twisted in need, signaling that the man wouldn’t be able to take it for much longer either. “Fuck, baby, just take me, I know you can do it.”
The tingling in your lower belly was spreading throughout your hips and stomach, traveling to infest your entire body. It felt dangerously good, and you were sure you were about to reach your breaking point — a part of you wished for him to go slower just so you could prolong that sensation, but that was just too much for you to ask. You loved the way he filled you up, his thick cock twitching inside you as he fucked you into oblivion, too harsh, too rough for you to follow.
So, you found your relief for the final time that night, crying out his name as he continued to drill into you, pushing your breasts against the glass, holding to your hips with the same force he has smacked you aforetime. In a way, you didn’t expect to end it any other way. It was almost poetic, if you thought about it.
“That’s right, love,” Taehyung murmured against the skin of your back, closing his eyes. You could tell he was close too, for the his abdomen had started clenching. He was a greek god then, making you his in every right way, his muscles outlined by the neon illumination that came from outside. “You’re such a good girl, aren't you? You just love it when I have you like this, you take my cock so well.”
You felt as if you were about to explode, pleasure overtaking every cell of your body. Trembling, your knees fought to keep you steady as Taehyung used your body to get himself off.
His teeth found the skin of your neck, biting down lightly. Taehyung seemed as if he wanted to claw his way into your body, for even his thrusts got impossibly harder, raising your hips with the impact. “You’re so tight, love, so fucking perfect,” he spoke against your skin, one of his arms wrapping around your waist, and the other seeking support on the window. “I’m… I’m going to cum, baby.”
And, of course, he was a man of his word. Taehyung came inside you with a profound groan against your wet skin, and you could feel as he filled you up with his cum; still thrusting in and out of you as it began to drip in between your legs. You whimpered at the sensitivity, and your legs almost gave out beneath you as he continued to fuck himself through his relief.
Alright, truth be told. You may have exaggerated a bit, but, god, it was worth every second.
He ceased his movements and, for an instant, there was only serenity. Then, for the final time that night, the same question resounded throughout the consolidated room. “Do you want to continue?” Taehyung inquired, his lips mere centimeters away from your ear, and his cock still buried deep inside you.
You sighed at the contact of his warm breath, attempting to organize your ponderations. “No, not anymore,” you answered, a bit sad. “I should go now.”
Frankly, you didn’t want to leave: the sex was too good and, from your glimpse at the clock at the wall, you could tell that you still had two hours before the constant virtual immersion reached the margins of dangerousness. Still, you were fucking exhausted. There was no way that you could endure another round, even if your simulated self already had much more stamina then you would ever achieve in real life. Paradise 17 was, after all, also reaching for the realistic side, and the tragic truth was that you were never the most athletic person around.
On the reflection, you saw that Taehyung pouted at your answer. “I will miss you, love,” he whispered against your neck, his fingertips caressing the curvature of your waist. Oh, you would really fucking miss him, and would make sure to come back as soon as you had your energy back on track. “I’ll be here for you, alright?”
That was a low hit, you thought, but you forced yourself to maintain your call. “Alright,” you mumbled back, closing your eyes in a moment of concentration. That was going to hurt — spiritually, psychologically, perhaps even physically, but it had to be done. “Cinnamon.”
Upon the soft-spoken verbalization of your safe word, the universe came to a sudden halt, and the simulation was paused. On the window before you, a diminutive, square-shaped screen appeared, shining in bright niveous colors. Do you wish to cease the simulation? It inquired.
“Yes.” You breathed out. The most difficult of decisions require the hardest of wills, after all — or at least that was how you thought the saying went.
Before you, the screen flickered into a brand new message. Please hold. You will be unplugged from the online interface, and your progress will be saved.
Increasingly, the hotel morphed into a darker shade of itself, like the flower that withered at the corner of your bedroom. The lights were turned off, and the world succumbed into penumbra. The fabric of the artificial reality shivered then, similar to how a small rock induces waves in a puddle, preparing itself to send you back to the world of the living — away from Paradise 17, and from the hellish magnificence that was Taehyung.
The steps were the same as when you entered the simulation: all physical sensation ceased for a prolonged instant, only to come crashing back as you were transported to a completely different position. Abruptly, you could feel the weight of your IMVIT helmet all around you, and the softness of your mattress was, once again, beneath your thighs — the touch so paradisiacal when compared to the roughness you had just endured.
You blinked a few times, trying to grow used to your body, and the tenebrosity that expanded all around you; your features barely illuminated by the small visor inside the object. On the screen before you, blue, pixelated letters read: Thank you for using Paradise 17. We hope you had a pleasurable experience. Come back soon.
And oh, damn right you would.
You can now remove your IMVIT helmet. Idol thanks you for your preference.  
Supiring, you did as it requested.
The muffled atmosphere of your room hit you all at once, in clear dissonance with the sweet, cool air of Paradise 17. You waited a few seconds before your eyesight had adapted to the dim illumination and, with a heavy heart, you placed your helmet by your side, and threw your legs over the bed’s edge. Between your thighs, you could feel the effect of the simulation, for you had completely soaked your underwear.
Within a minute, you had already sat down in front of your computer and closed all open programs, feeling the ponderousness of sleep hanging over your shoulders. Still, there was something you needed to check before you allowed for your slumber to overtake you. For science, of course, just a bit of research.
Without much thought, you opened one of your go-to forums, and typed “Paradise 17” on the search bar. After a few seconds of scrolling through high star reviews and awfully personal descriptions of the user’s experiences, you found the piece of information you were searching for.
“The developers of the infamously popular simulation, Paradise 17, came out this last Sunday with great news for its devoted users. Its newest version, which is expected to hit the markets next month, will have, amongst other updates, the possibility of multiple partners. Oh Sehun, the spokesperson for Idol, told us in an exclusive interview that, so far, the number of participants is limited, ranging from the usual two, all the way up to five. Other than that, Idol promised to add new scenarios to the simulation, while still following the hotel theme — such as a hot tub and a public pool, for the ones who enjoy the thrill of being seen in public (...)”
You elevated one of your eyebrows in clear interest — a threesome? Now, that was something you could look forward to. The new update couldn’t come soon enough.
3K notes · View notes
anodyne-sunflower · 6 years ago
Text
Recover-Leon S. KennedyxReader
A/N: Because, who doesn’t want to shower with Leon. 🙃 A request, I hope you like, my dear. Hard to work around an apocalypse with certain topics haha. As always, using rookie Leon from the remake.
Tumblr media
MOOD MUSIC: Recover by Ruelle
***
“Not exactly a five star, is it?” You glanced cautiously around the market, slowing your breath to a whisper as to not alert anything lurking about. There wasn’t much choice in your resting quarters these days, and you should count yourself lucky you even made it this far at all.
“No.” Leon grunted from the entrance, using all his strength to shove a couple of shelves in the form of a blockade at the door. He wasn’t fond of taking chances. Especially not after the first gas station he had the misfortune of visiting in this hell. “But, if you know a place close by, I’m all ears.” He sighed in relief when he was done, hands clapping together as he swept some of the dust and caked on blood from them. It made little difference in his appearance, and he grimaced at the smell coming from him. To think of all those years he took showers for granted, if the world ending was anything, it was humbling. “We should take a look around. Better to be safe.”
“Yeah.” You watched him sweep by you, his precious Lightning Hawk already drawn and ready to dispatch possible threats. He really was a cop, you mused. Rookie or not, he was one hell of a survivor, and you were certain you wouldn’t be standing here if not for him. To think it was only a few weeks ago when you first met, at the end of his gun no less. Thankfully, he wasn’t the trigger happy type, and that zombie yearning for your flesh soon found itself truly dead by his hands.
“Geez, what a mess...” The truck stop was rummaged and ransacked, broken bottles and entire food shelves thrown to the ground. It was clear people had stocked up here at the beginning of all this, and unfortunately for you both there wasn’t much in the way of a meal. At least you had grown accustomed to that disappointment.
“It’s all clear.” Leon came from around the aisle, gun once again holstered at his hip. He seemed relieved, knowing that his makeshift barricade could buy you both at least a few hours until a horde came crashing in. A mercy you hadn’t felt in quite some time.
“Well, I’ve got some good news for you.” You reached into a canister, waving around the last packs of jerky you managed to scavenge. “Hope you like dry meat.” You moved towards him, holding one of them out and gently pushing it into his chest. He grabbed it swiftly, a breath of a laugh escaping him at your quip.
“My favorite.” Leon spoke, sighing heavily at the thought of having to endure another less than savory dinner. “Take our wins where we can get them, right?” He began unpacking the item, ripping off a bite or two before he felt the loss of your presence. “Y/N?”
“Back here!” You called out to him, too focused on the facilities lining the wall of the backrooms. It wasn’t often either of you got lucky enough to find running utilities, but it seems this one was in good standing. For the time being, that is. “Check it out.” You turned the knob of the shower, happy to hear the creaks and squeals of the pipes as a stream of water came leaking out. It wasn’t strong by any means, but you were grateful the truck stop offered these amenities around here. “Looks like they paid their water bill, at least.”
“Yeah.” Leon glanced at it with a longing expression, no doubt equally tempted to douse himself clean from all the grime and blood he was covered in. The poor thing, you thought, knowing he was in worse shape than you. “It won’t last long. It’s tapping into the reserves down here.” He reached for the lagging flow of water, cringing when he felt the cool temperature it brought forth. “Ice cold.”
“Take our wins, right?” You offered him a tired smile, leaning against the wall as you watched him wash some dirt from his fingertips. It would be nice to manage one shower, considering it had been ages since your last.
“Go ahead and wash up. I’ll wait outside for you.” Leon pulled away from the shower, trying to be the gentleman you had come to learn he was. The man needed a bath as badly, if not more, than you did. It would be uncivil of you to expect him to remain in such a poor state for the sake of dignity. If it truly was the end of the world, what did any of that matter now.
“Wait...Leon-um...” You felt the rise of a blush on your cheeks, the sudden idea crossing your mind making you grow nervous with him. Would it be odd for you to suggest such a notion? Dignity really didn’t matter these days, that much was true, but now that you found yourself holding onto his arm and staring into those piercing blue eyes of his...all the bravery you felt slipped away. “Just,” You slowly released his arm, turning away awkwardly in consideration. It wouldn’t do either of you any good to waste more time here, so the argument pretty much presented itself. “Listen, the water isn’t going to last long, and we both know they’ll just keep piling up outside.”
He was quick to catch up, and you were thankful he got the hint of your suggestion from your rambling. For a moment, he looked intrigued, but that quickly faded to the courteous manner he normally treated you with. “I don’t know if I should-Uh...” Leon rubbed the back of his neck, momentarily glancing away from you as less than pure images began running through his mind. He wasn’t blind, after all. Your attractiveness wasn’t lost on him and while he certainly would’ve entertained the idea of asking you out prior to the virus, he wasn’t sure this was the logical next step.
“Look, we can sit and debate this all night or just get it over with.”
“Uh-...Okay.” He caved to the invitation, shrugging away his skepticism. You weren’t wrong, he found, and cold or not he missed the comforts of a shower.
“Okay.” You agreed, still trying to hide the obvious embarrassment you felt as you began undressing. This wasn’t how you pictured the night going, but somewhere in the recesses of your mind you were glad for it.
“I’ll turn away.” Leon swiftly pivoted on his boots, clearing his throat as he listened to the ruffle of your clothes and shoes coming off. He briefly wondered what you looked like, but he reminded himself of his wits and settled for removing his own dirty attire. Now wasn’t the time to be playing the pining fool, because that could likely spell a death sentence.
You let out a shaky breath, arms instinctively coming to cloak your chest from anyone’s view. It was cold in the room, and the water was no more relishing as it hit your body. The slow stream cascaded across your curves, enveloping you in what was possibly the worst shower you had taken in your life. But, count your blessings, right? Because, at least you felt the weight of the filth melting off your figure in a welcomed silence. Eventually, you grew used to it, and it was only when you heard his footsteps that you dared to open your eyes.
Immediately you made to look away, not wanting to ogle the officer that stood completely nude in front of you. If you were honest, he was the only sight worth seeing since this all started. You knew he was built beneath the uniform, but the visual of his muscles so exposed and on display...it left you flushed and wanting.
Leon was no better in his failed attempts to be a decent person and stare anywhere but you. But, no matter how hard he tried he’d find himself journeying back to your bare figure. There wasn’t much room to work with in this stall, and while he wished to give you space, he couldn’t exactly determine a decent way to do so.
“You can,” How childish you were acting. There was hardly any time to get a decent shower in, and here you were ruining the rare treat by covering up and worrying over a custom that barely held these days. “You can look, I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” You blushed at the last bit, knowing a handsome man like Leon had his fair share of women in the past. You even entertained the fantasy of dating him, but that was a long shot and something left for the day all of this ended and returned to normal. If it ever did.
He laughed softly at that, finally ignoring the shred of decency he was trying to muster by giving you space. In reality, he was grateful for your words. “If only it was under better circumstances.”
You smiled at his comment, realizing you had wished the same. If there was one positive thing you could take from the virus corrupting everyone around you, it was this. The natural way it broke down barriers and let two people become close in the span of a few weeks. After all, being saved by a complete stranger would create a bond unlike any other.
You gradually reached for his hand, fingers sweeping his palm when you tugged gently to pull him under the water with you. It was slowly losing its force, but you hoped it last long enough to enjoy this moment. “Here.” The water sprayed across Leon’s head, soaking his blond strands and slicking them back and away from his features. It brought out the blue in his eyes more, or perhaps, that was just the proximity of your wet bodies.
“Thank you.” Leon sighed, blinking as droplets swept down his forehead and over his face. He would’ve closed his eyes from the annoyance, but he was content with the view he had in front of him. You were no longer covering up, but were easily on display in all your bare glory for him. He probably should have made his attraction less obvious, but he couldn't ignore his more primal self from admiring you. Every detail, he took in. From the curve of your hips to the delicate way you ran your fingers through your dampened hair. Every action was deliberate with you, and he couldn’t help but watch as your hands caressed down your sides to wipe the particles of dirt away.
“Wait.” Leon reached forward, roughened fingertips tracing the edge of your hip bone where your thigh connected. There was a line of muck you had missed, and he was far too entranced by your movements to care if he crossed a line.
His touch made you stiffen in place, your eyes opening to glance up at him as he continued his path along your prickled skin. The heat of his palm was a welcomed change, and in contrast to the water it felt like heaven to you. You only hoped he wasn’t astute enough to notice how effortlessly you were affected by the sensation.
“Missed a spot.” He smiled cheekily down at you, hand moving to leave your skin he desperately wanted to continue touching. It was only when you promptly grabbed his hand, eyes steady and longing as they bored into him, that he opted not to move.
“Just a while longer.” You pleaded, missing the comfort of touch, his touch. It had been far too long since you felt such a way, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing it so quickly all over again. “Please.”
Leon considered your appeal, lips parting as he released a breath and decided it was now or never. “Don’t worry.” He caressed you again, thumb brushing your waist as he leaned down. “I’m not going anywhere.”
***
Second part is in my Masterlist in my bio!
2K notes · View notes