#vol. xx

[alibrandi]

9 Favourite Albums - Choose 9 & then tag 9 people! Or you can do nine singles or EPs, whatever lol.

Tagging @cactus-bag @catsafari25 @labyrinthal @sleeeepy-demon @retourne-toi-eurydice @belladonnafey @scorpius-rising @cry4judas @atuans @nicey-sandokan @evyes no obligations feel free 2 ignore

Albums listed (and me rambling) under the cut

TIME - ELO: my mum's favourite album that i first Properly listened to when i was 13. it's just the best sci-fi concept album ever....i love you jeff!!

13 Tales of Love & Revenge - The Pierces: sexy indie duo, most known for the song Secret, which isn't even in the top 5 of the best songs of the album. a treasure from when i was 11, and just figuring out i like girls.

Greatest Hits - The Eagles: again, my mum's interests becoming my own. it was really hard to pick between this and Long Road Out of Eden, but ultimately the greatest hits r that for a reason.

Laurel Hell - Mitski: my fave mitski album, heat lightning is underappreciated!!! and yeah just. its about solitude. recognition but not in the way you wanted or expected. emotional rollercoaster. im not eloquent enough to describe it and mitski does it better in under 2 minutes anyway.

Strange Trails - Lord Huron: again another hard toss between this and long lost but st wins out purely bc the transitions rule, and meet me in the woods + the yawning grave make me crazyyyy. so happy i got to hear those live in jan. lord huron is like what if a cowboy was also a ghost. thats the only way i can describe it.

Electra Heart - Marina and the Diamonds: i am not immune to music i heard at 12 years old. shame she's never made anything as good as this again.

Are We Having Fun Yet? - Black/Colin Vearncombe: another one of mum's. She found this guy when someone at Sanity was playing the album over the store speakers. loved it ever since, and introduced it to me. wistful ballads, jazzy touches, a little bit sexy.

Coyote Stories - The Crane Wives: this was a 2016-18 discovery maybe? i just know i was in school. im into folk indie i cant help it.

Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier: shout out to afro-elf for posting about movement n the whole ep, which is what spurred me to actually try this dude's music. and now i love him. but wasteland baby is immaculate: no skips, he roars in some songs and is as gentle as drizzle in others.

[lesbiangiratina]

I know its been over 2 decades but can they release the gg drama cd music. I need more bloodstained lineages

[pirunika]

trying this..noodle this time which turned out to b 90 lira 😬 BUT it was good...not sure id buy again tho

[livingasaghost]

everybody pray that next week over thanksgiving i can detox from being an internet gremlin and read literally anything physically

[isaactheowl]

Tiny Faust

From the Guilty Gear XX Comic Anthology Vol. 1

[sweetbottletops]

VOL.3 is out & anime is happening 💚

A few years ago, I wouldn’t have imagined a third book in bookstores let alone an anime adaptation of this series. It’s so so touching and I’m so happy to be able to share the news with you guys :,) I hope it becomes something that’s loved worldwide by such a diverse & lovely audience like you guys. Thank you for always being a huge support, you made this happen!! So much love xx — @ agu_knzm [IG]

[o-craven-canto]

This interesting degeneration theory [...] was formed in 1875 with the aim of harmonising the results of evolution and ever-advancing Darwinism with religious belief. [...] To most of the disputants the chief point was not the general question of evolution, but the particular one of “man’s place in nature”—“the question of questions,” as Huxley rightly called it. It was soon evident to every clear-headed thinker that this question could only be answered in the sense of our anthropogeny, by admitting that man had descended from a long series of Vertebrates by gradual modification and improvement. [...] But in order still to save man’s unique position, and especially the dogma of personal immortality, a number of natural philosophers and theologians discovered an admirable way of escape in the “theory of degeneration.” Granting the affinity, they turned the whole evolutionary theory upside down, and boldly contended that “man is not the most highly developed animal, but the animals are degenerate men.” It is true that man is closely related to the ape, and belongs to the vertebrate stem; but the chain of his ancestry goes upward instead of downward. In the beginning “God created man in his own image,” as the prototype of the perfect vertebrate; but, in consequence of original sin, the human race sank so low that the apes branched off from it, and afterwards the lower Vertebrates [...] [and] the entire animal kingdom was descended from the debased children of men. This theory [...] received its chief support on the zoological side from Anton Dohrn, who maintained the anthropocentric ideas of Snell with particular ability. The Amphioxus [lancelet], which modern science now almost unanimously regards as the real Primitive Vertebrate [...] is, according to Dohrn, a late, degenerate descendant of the stem, the “prodigal son” of the vertebrate family. It has descended from the Cyclostoma [lampreys and hagfish] by a profound degeneration, and these in turn from the fishes; even the Ascidia [sea squirt] and the whole of the Tunicates are merely degenerate fishes! Following out this curious theory, Dohrn came to contest the general belief that the Cœlenterata [jellyfish, corals, etc.] and Worms are “lower animals”; he even declared that the unicellular Protozoa were degenerate Cœlenterata. In his opinion “degeneration is the great principle that explains the existence of all the lower forms.”

(source: as recounted by Ernst Haeckel in The Evolution of Man, vol. 2, chapter XX "Our worm-like ancestors", 1912)

[shyjusticewarrior]

Fun facts about Harley Quinn

She smells like cotton candy (Catwoman 2018 #43)

She loves motels (Catwoman 2018 #43)

She loves coffee, but says only psychopaths drink black coffee (Harley Quinn vol 1: No Good Deed)

Harley once brought Batman a black coffee (Harley Quinn vol 1: Girl In A Crisis)

Her favorite pie is pumpkin with whipped cream (Harley Quinn: Black + White + Redder #2)

She lived with Cassandra Cain for 10 days (Harley Quinn and the Birds of Prey: the Hunt For Harley)

When she was in school, she did a PowerPoint presentation on metaphors in vampire literature (Harley Quinn vol 4: Task Force XX)

She doesn't have a spleen (Harley Quinn 2021 #38)

She went on a date with Hush disguised as Bruce Wayne but ultimately rejected him cause she wasn't ready to be a step mom (Gotham City Sirens 2009 #4)

[finnthistle]

A.B.A in the mangas

Hey if/when the Guilty Gear XX Slash Comic Anthology Vol.1 & 2 get scanned, can everyone who remembers this post please scream at me. I need more A.B.A content... I need to know the full context of the A.B.A and Bridget holding hands and being friends panel.

The Guilty Gear XX Slash The Midnight Carnival 4Koma Kings Manga that was just scanned is not enough, I need more!

[elementroar]

This is the "Why ABA and Paracelsus can feel horny" lore/theory post

The main Paracelsus deepdive post is a monster that I'm building in Google docs cos Tumblr can't handle it while it's WIP. This is a separate lore/theory monster I want to get out of my system first.

Here's my theory why ABA is consistently portrayed as being horny for Paracelsus from the start.

Translated excerpt from the Night of Knives Vol.2 audio drama CD, released in 2004 (20 IRL years ago):

Her being horny wasn't so much portrayed in-game in XX/AC+R really, prolly engine/sprite limitations and all; but then STRIVE happens and we get:

It's not just her being horny, and knowing exactly how to rizz Paracelsus up, and clearly has been doing this in her pocket dimension for a while now. PARACELSUS CAN FEEL HORNY NOW TOO!

And I stg I'm not joking...I think there's a legit lore reason for this.

Cos by the end of her arcade mode's flawless ending and according to the latest interviews with Daisuke-san and the game directors, it's explained that Paracelsus' form depends on what ABA thinks of Paracelsus, as well as her general mental stability.

ABA thought Paracelsus looked like a key, and he morphed into a key as part of his nature, which naturally makes him always fit to his wielder's preferences. In my deepdive I'll explain in more detail, but in addition to that, Slayer figured out that since ABA also saw Para as her hopeful "key to the future", Para's heart also began to change to basically fit her ideal of what he is.

So if ABA finds Paracelsus sexually attractive, and has made very obvious physical advances on him for years, then it follows that if she's horny for him, she can make Paras horny for her over time too, just like how Para is getting more key-like subconsciously just by being with her all this time.

I don't think this is entirely involuntary on Paracelsus end. I believe how much he wants to react to his wielder's emotions is still in his control...unless they become truly insane like with ABA's Jealous Rage being emotionally powerful enough to override Paras' ability to maintain his key form.

Also he reverts to his 'sharp teeth' design when he gets rizzed up, so he's losing his composure again and prolly holding back most of his...response. It's actually kinda telling cos Para used to just disassociate, ignore, scold ABA when she tries to make advances on him, so him actually responding now and to this degree is...interesting. And ABA seems very aware of this.

And for the bigger question of why ABA, an artificially created human would be created with the ability to feel horny...

Ok, crack theory time, it might be linked to why she apparently can summon an actual alchemical gate just whenever she wants, and even use it as her private pad. ABA doesn't just wanna rizz Paracelsus up as a key, she wants him in a human body since the start too.

Y'all remember Ghostbusters, and what the Gatekeeper and the Keymaster have to do to open the gate...?

[omegaremix]

Darkness finds; 2022.

@postpunkindustrial has become one of the most thorough and present accounts on here. In fact, @womenofnoise declared him one of three parts of The Unholy Trinity. He’s posted many finds from industrial, breakcore, new wave, goth rock, no-wave, experimental sounds, and also hip-hop. He’s also one of the most generous, too. From time to time he’ll open some releases for download to all of his followers and passers-by to grab.

One good thing about underground and obscure musicks is that once you feel you’ve heard it all, there’s always something that’s you’ve either overlooked or didn’t know existed. If you had before, at least you’re relieved to know that someone else has also been where you came from. And if not? That’s a chance to explore some news sounds and appreciate the ones you’ve already had.

Here’s only a few of many grabs that’s available, including new ones I came across as I revisited last year’s finds. These are all coming into play as I attempt to come back and reach for many purchases in my possession I’ve yet to listen to.

Siglo XX: self-titled

Clock DVA: Advantage

* various artists: New York Noise Vol. 1-3.

Gridlock: Further

Rubberoom: Architechnology

Parasite vs. Electromeca: punkC'mon PunXXX!!! Counterattack!!!

Gravediggaz: 6 Feet Deep

God: The Anatomy Of Addiction

Thunderinas, The: Blower

Ślepcy: Absent Opera

Mark Stewart & The Maffia: Learning To Cope With Cowardice

Somatic Responses: Uncivilized World

Xanopticon: Même Mage

* various artists: The Last Supper

Muslimgauze: Lo-Fi India Abuse

Tools You Can Trust: Working And Shopping

[lovelyzzzz777]

heyy 💫 could you make a post on nodal/vertex synastry? like what houses it falls into or aspects with planets? thankyouu ! 💞

AstroRevelations vol. XX — The Fated Pull: Synastry of the Nodes & Vertex 🔮💫

Some connections feel like gravity.

They move you without warning. They rearrange your soul. And when you look at the astrology, the truth hums beneath: the Nodes and the Vertex have aligned.

In synastry, when your North Node touches their planet, or when their Vertex falls into one of your houses—it’s not random. It’s a call. A mission. A remembering.

The Lunar Nodes

The North and South Node are not planets—they’re points of fate. They tell the story of your soul’s evolution, and when someone activates them in synastry, they activate your path.

North Node Conjunct Personal Planets: You feel drawn to this person in a way that feels unfamiliar but necessary. Their energy pushes you forward, helps you grow. But it can be uncomfortable—like being pulled into a future you’re not sure you’re ready for.

South Node Conjunct Personal Planets: Instant connection. A past-life familiarity. They feel like home. But beware of comfort zones—this dynamic can feel addictive, nostalgic, or even karmic in the heavy sense.

Node in Their Houses:

In their 1st: You shift their identity.

In their 5th: They fall in love with you without realizing why.

In their 7th: Soulmate echoes. Mirror energy.

The Vertex

Also known as the “point of fate,” the Vertex activates during moments or people that change the trajectory of your life. It often appears in charts of people who meet during life-altering events—or who feel like destiny wrapped in skin.

Vertex Conjunct Planet:

Sun: They see you. They remember you.

Moon: Emotional recognition. Psychic bonds.

Venus: Magnetic attraction, like déjà vu and butterflies at once.

Mars: Explosive. Urgent. Meant to be—or meant to burn.

Vertex in Their Houses:

In their 8th: Deep transformation. Sexual intensity. Taboo healing.

In their 11th: You disrupt their future plans. You are their wild card.

When Nodes & Vertex Collide

This is when people say “I’ve never felt this before.” One of you may awaken something dormant in the other—something that demands growth, or release, or both.

But remember: fated doesn’t always mean forever.

It means important

You don’t always stay. But you always leave a mark.

[transmutationisms]

tagged by @atthecenterofeverything to list 10 books im planning to read next yayyyyy. i actually revise my tbr in my head every five seconds so this is vibes based and i make no promises <3

Doctor Glas by Hjalmar Söderberg -- i reread Love in the Time of Cholera recently and discovered i disagree with my taste at the age of 16 💔 but i love reading about fictional doctors so ive been tearing thru some of those and this is next on the stack

Necropolis by Basil Copper -- also teed up from ^ this batch

Le Berceau des dominations - Anthropologie de l'inceste par Dorothée Dussy -- recced by a friend, looks really great even though i SAID i need to read more fiction in french bc it really is better practice for variety of phrasing lol

The Purchase of Intimacy by Viviana A. Zelizer -- also recced by a friend, has been on my mental tbr for a few months, related to some things ive been chewing on lately

Querelle de Brest par Jean Genet -- I loved the fassbinder adaptation the only question is when will i be brave (patient) enough to tackle genet in french lol

L'art et la matière: Les artisans, les architectes et la technique, 1770–1830 par Valérie Nègre -- nobody look at meeee it's not fiction again but i read either one book or multiple papers by paola bertucci about the contemporaneous formation of the categories of artiste vs artisan vs savant & that one focusses more on the intellectual production side but this one i think is more what i want in terms of. i like to look at buildings and understand why they look how they look

Kara Kitap by Orhan Pamuk -- just been on my list for a hot minute, i loved my name is red

Un enfant à l'asile. Vie de Paul Taesch par Anatole Le Bras -- i think this is going to be bad tbh but it's 19th century child in an asylum in the rare case in which the author isn't having to 100% read the archive backward so i rly can't resist

Madness, Architecture and the Built Environment: Psychiatric Spaces in Historical Context (edited vol.) -- edited volumes are rarely very good & i think the scope is too wide here but the topic is one ive been meaning to get more granular on since i read sun-young park on the architecture of paris deaf-blind institutes so i'm at least going to use it to get more oriented in this sub sub field of lit

Poisoned Eden: Cholera Epidemics, State-Building, and the Problem of Public Health in Tucumán, Argentina, 1865-1908 by Carlos S. Dimas -- the paris cholera epidemics following the 1830 and 1848 revolutions are so rich for historical analysis and i stumbled across this book recently working with some of the overlapping public health–politics concerns in argentina, looks great can't wait

i have noooo idea who's already done this or who wants to lol but if you see this please do it and tag me i get so many reading recs off random tumblr posts xx

[sidekickjoey]

Nothing's Gonna Harm You

Rating: T WC: 2,411 Tags: Post-Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2, Canon Compliant, Implied Steddie, Referenced Character Death, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug & Is Not Okay A/N: Here's a little fic inspired by the pics of Dustin defending Eddie's grave from jocks in S5 and how emotional that made me to see. Shout out to @steddieasitgoes for indulging in my rambles about this idea as I avoided work to write it xx Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics! Read it on AO3

Steve heard Dustin's shouts a mile away.

He hadn't wanted to drive him to the cemetery, originally. Ever since Eddie's death, the place has felt so strange. Haunted, almost. Steve wouldn't put it past Eddie to haunt Hawkins after how they treated him, but it's more like there's this lingering cloud of sadness and loss hovering over the place that's heavier than before. He doesn't like to dwell on it too much, fears the way it might make him feel if he lets it go on around him for too long.

But, Dustin wanted to go.

He's missed Eddie a lot, is the thing. Steve had not realized the full extent of the bond they'd formed until Eddie no longer was there to fill it. He knows now that it was strong. So strong. He'd be an asshole to not let Dustin come pay some respects here and there. Lord knows, had they had more time to spend together, Steve might have come out on the other side just as closely bonded with him himself, if not more so. So naturally, they went.

Everything had been fine at first, too. Steve pulled up near the front of the cemetery, parked his car, and gave Dustin a small 'be careful' talk before sending him on his way, and that had been that. He'd rested back in his seat the moment Dustin left his sight, turned on some tunes, and tried to distract his mind from his surroundings the best he could. For a while, that worked.

But then, Dustin shouts rang out over the cemetery, and well, Steve Harrington would not be Steve Harrington if he didn't run head-first into situations -- especially the ones he hates -- to protect the ones he loves.

He was up and out of his car in seconds.

It thankfully did not take long for Steve to find Dustin, all things considered. He had been to Eddie's grave before during the funeral, so he sort of knew the way, and Dustin was screaming quite loudly. He'd lost a little hearing throughout the years from injury, but not even that could drown out his wailing and calls for Steve. Hell, Steve probably could be many miles away and still be alerted to that kind of call.

When he did approach Dustin, it was like approaching a nightmare. He was standing right by Eddie's grave looking a mess, with his Hellfire shirt ripped, his face reddened and muddied up with dirt, and cuts near his nose and mouth. Beside him, Eddie's grave was clearly defaced with something also bright red, spelling out 'burn in hell' over Eddie's name. It's sloppy work, really. Steve could just hear Eddie judging their lack of creativity. On any other day, he might have pressed his luck with it and made a comment or two, just to see where it'd take him.

This day was no day for that, though. Dustin wasn't standing alone, after all. He had a jock's arm around his neck and another's arm cast back ready to swing. That just couldn't do. Luckily for him, Steve had been well trained on how to handle situations like it.

Approaching the jocks from behind, he wasted no time casting his weight back and slamming his fist expertly into the cheek of the one prepping to punch.

The guy, wildly caught off guard, stumbled to the side and fell over himself with a groan. Steve had heard that groan before leave his lips, so he was well aware he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. This freed him to turn and handle the other two jocks at the scene ready to pounce.

The first took a few swings, but he was slow. He was no match for Steve, who had been trained by the likes of Billy Hargrove and Russians to act fast and on his toes. Steve easily nailed him in the gut, sending him wailing to the grassy floor. The next guy took a more analytical approach, jumping around to get Steve to accidentally trip over one of the headstones nearby. It was smart, but Steve was smarter. He knew how to use a good logic flip to his advantage and did so the moment he could. The guy was on his ass in seconds, whining about a twisted ankle like he'd been shot.

Steve brushed him off and immediately turned to Dustin.

The kid still wriggled around in the tight grip around him, so that was good at least. His face was as pale as a ghosts and his eyes were jumping back and forth, but he also looked hopeful. Carding back his hair, Steve used that hope. He let it refresh him and fuel him to finish the job here and not let him down, to give him a happier ending than the one's he's been dealt lately.

Stepping toward the first guy, a moaning pile on the floor still clutching his jaw in agony, Steve folded his arms and cast a scathingly judgmental look his way.

"God, you guys are pathetic."

Near his feet, the guy spat -- blood red, just like the color on Eddie's stone. "Move aside, Harrington. We're doing this one a favor so he doesn't end up six feet under like your friend here."

"Oh, well forgive him for not bringing a thank you card," Steve sneered back, cocking his hip to the side. "Honestly, if anyone should be thanking anybody, it's you to him. That kid saved your stupid life -- all your lives."

"He's not the first humanitarian to ever help after an earthqu- OW!"

Steve hoped Eddie got a kick out of that kick to this guy's side, wherever he was. He devious grin made its way to Steve's face then, as well as the teasing lilt that had driven Steve crazy in the forest what seemed like forever ago.

"Wanna' try again, hot shot?"

"Screw you," the other jock holding Dustin yelled then, tightening his hold around his neck. Dustin winced but held strong, reassuring Steve to keep going with pleasing eyes. "I hope you both go to Hell, right there with the freak!"

And, well, that was perhaps not the best thing somebody could say to Steve in that moment. Coolly, calmly, Steve straightened up and smiled. It was an early, unsettling thing that stretched across him and felt utterly vicious for him to deliver. It had to look as fearsome as it felt, because the second it reached its full potential, he saw the hold on Dustin slip ever-so-slightly. Steve could practically preen over it, over how he still easily can read these jerks like a book.

Stepping forward once more, he looked the guy up and down.

"Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but that won't work on us, unfortunately. See, we've been there already. Not that bad of a place, actually. You know, once you get over everything rotting and all the demons waiting to devour you whole."

The guy stared back at him for a long moment then, confused but too scared and perturbed by the pet name Steve threw in to ask anything more. One of the other boys, the one who he nailed in the gut earlier, cursed under his breath in tandem, muttering something about how Steve's gone crazy. It only emboldened him more, enough so that he decided to toss a wink the guy's way and sweetly coo that "he'll be sure to remember that next time he's down there."

He swore he heard Dustin snicker.

"Anyway, unless you boys want test your luck with how serious I am right now, and I really advise against that I should add, I think we're done here. Get the hell out."

The group remained silent, stunned. Steve raised his brow. And then-

"NOW!"

Amusingly, it was Mr. Hostage himself who made it out the fastest. His other boys quickly followed, cursing and checking behind them the entire way.

Steve felt so alive.

Dustin, however, very much did not look super duper alive. Once he was finally back to himself and reality, Steve jogged over to him and bent at the knee to see his cuts. The one near his nose was pretty gnarly, enough to make him wince sympathetically.

"Jeesh, you okay kid?"

"Now that you're here, yeah," Dustin replied, more in awe than in pain. "You scared the shit out of those guys, Steve."

"Yeah, well," Steve huffed, applying some pressure to the cut on Dustin's cheek with his shirtsleeve. "Wish I could've done more, but I don't think I can exactly afford a lawsuit right about now."

"Parents cut you off?"

"And Family Video."

"Jesus."

"Doesn't matter though. The point is that you matter, and so does your health, and right about now we need to be getting you to a first-aid kit before anything gets too bad." Steve noticed a bruise forming under Dustin's eye. He winced. "And maybe get you some ice while we're at it."

Dustin nodded his consent, only to turn to his right and freeze in place. Steve followed his gaze back down to Eddie's grave, still very much disturbed. They shared a moment of silence before locking eyes, and when they did, Dustin shook his head already anticipating Steve's thoughts.

"I can't leave him like that, Steve. I can't."

That pooling feeling of dread hit Steve's gut then. He took a shaky breath.

"No, man. You need to get fixed."

"Not before him," he snapped back, a little louder, meaning business. Steve gnawed at the corner of his mouth and chanced a glance over at the stone. Something in his heart twinged.

"Dustin-"

"Not before him, and not when his uncle could come here and see this," Dustin reiterated, firmer.

And dammit, once again, Dustin was right. One-hundred-percent right.

How could Steve possibly be anything other than helpless to oblige there, in that moment.

With a sworn promise to let Steve bandage him up as soon as physically possible, the two went back to Steve's car and drove to the nearest mini-mart. There, with Dustin waiting in the passenger seat, Steve made quick work purchasing cleaning supplies, bandages, and two candy bars for once they were all finished with this mess. A short drive back and medical pit-stop later, Steve and a newly bandaged Dustin made the walk through the cemetery right back to Eddie's defamed plot.

They worked diligently and delicately.

The paint itself was pretty easy to get off with some soap, but its remaining residue was trickier. Steve and Dustin had to spend the better part of an hour scrubbing at it and dousing it with chemicals to remove it, which could not have been easy for Dustin in his wounded state. He still tried hard though, as did Steve. Eventually, the stone emerged good as new, shining in the glow of sunset.

There, on the ground, Eddie watching over them, Steve handed over one of the candy bars to Dustin.

Call Steve biased, but he figured the sun's light had nothing on the way Dustin lit up like a sparkler in that moment.

He turned to Steve and hugged him tight.

"Thank you," he said, voice tight with emotion. "From me and from Eddie. He'd really be glad you did this for him."

Steve let out a slow breath. Nodded once, twice.

"I'm serious, man," Dustin stressed again as he pulled back, knowing Steve and his deflections all too well. "That was really cool of you."

"I dunno."

"Okay, but I do. You protected me, Wayne, and him. That's like, the Eddie Munson trifecta. I don't think you could be more badass in his eyes right now unless you like, learned guitar right this second. Or, actually, no shit, if you whacked those assholes with a guitar! You know, upside the head, like your bat!"

Steve shook his head. "Fat chance of that."

"Hence why what you did is so amazingly cool," Dustin noted, snagging a big bite of chocolate.

Grabbing a smaller bite, Steve still was not so sure. He was, however, reminded then of a fleeting thought he had come up with earlier, a thought that might just be the right Eddie-like thing to say then to smooth things over and help Dustin know he'd be okay.

With one more look at Eddie's grave, Steve decided fuck it.

"Yeah, well. Their work was way too uncreative to let slide, even for me."

Dustin shoved at Steve's shoulder, grinning again to Steve's delight -- an instant win. "It was pretty lame, huh?"

"I'm just saying, the guy created an entire club based on fantasy creatures and has a whole backlog of oddly named artists he listens to, and the best they could come up with is burn in hell. They could've at least tried or used something other than cheap Crayola paint."

"Bet you Eddie cringed so hard, man."

"That's what I'm saying."

After a few beats of silence and another candy bite, Dustin looked back at the grave. "I'm, um. I'm thinking of coming back here again in a week or so. You know, to check on him. Make sure those assholes didn't try another shitty drawing. Do you want to come with?"

Steve swallowed hard, anxiety bubbling back. "I'm not sure, man."

"If you won't go to visit with me, would you go to protect me at least?"

"Dustin-"

"Please?"

Sighing, Steve conceded with a nod. And that was that.

They stayed there for a little while longer, until their candy bars were nothing but distant memories and the sun was nearly gone in the sky. Dustin got up first and began running to the car, telling Steve he'd race him. Steve held back though, told him to get the car warm for him. He just needed to do something real quick.

Kneeling down at Eddie's grave, head swimming with the loss and sadness that had been plaguing him the whole time, Steve placed his hand on the headstone, let a tear fall, and then met the stone head-on.

"I'll protect him," he spoke, to no one but the air in actuality but truly, dearly to Eddie in his heart. "I-I can't promise much, man. But, I'll promise that. For you. I promise."

With a pressed kiss to his hand, he let it rest on the stone for a minute or so more and then turned, jogging back to Dustin.

Above him, in the twilight sky, the stars twinkled.

[isaactheowl]

Testament has had enough of the twink

from the Guilty Gear XX Comic Anthology Vol. 2

[hollybell51]

here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

Navigation

Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 

“Can I see that?” 

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 

“Is (Y/N) with you?” 

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 

“Are you on the ground?” 

“Yes.” 

“You need to get out of there.” 

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 

“What?” 

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 

“She ok?” 

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Ok.” 

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 

“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 

“Huh?” 

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 

“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 

“Hm? 

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 

He frowned. “Is that…?” 

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” 

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 

“Hm?” 

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 

“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 

“Ok.” 

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower.