#is this remotely coherent? maybe not!

[neuxue]

holy shit tell me about your gu yuexi thoughts

damn it I meant to answer this right away And Then I Didn't, but okay, Gu Yuexi my beloved.

(under a cut for vague-but-still-present spoilers through the end of LHJC)

The thing about Gu Yuexi is that she's so astonishingly capable at what she does, and so acutely perceptive in ways that both include and extend beyond her superpower, and so beloved by the weird little family she has found, and so willing to sacrifice herself for those she cares about without even considering it a sacrifice... and also so devastatingly bad at, like, how to be a person—in a way that plays so painfully and perfectly into this story's whole theme of personhood and weaponisation and the space in between, of 鸟尽弓藏 and what happenes when a weapon outlives its usefulness, of being forged to be wielded and then finding something beautiful in your hands and not knowing how to keep it, of existing only because others needed to draw meaning out of darkness and so looked to you for light that was only ever yours to give and never yours to hold...of finding name and self and beauty where there was once only utility.

The thing about Gu Yuexi is that when she first shows up it's as this hypercompetent and aloof-seeming character who speaks bluntly and has no time for bullshit, and you're like ah, yes, I know this archetype (and if you're me that alone might honestly be enough, but that's just the beginning). And it's not that she subverts that, exactly, but as the story peels back the surface of it (in a way that feels almost ironic, exposing her to the reader's vision in an echo of the way her own vision exposes everyone to her but her to none of them) there's this moment of 'oh she is a mess' and then of just 'oh'.

You get to her backstory chapter and think ah yes tragic past okay should be fun and you get through the first few paragraphs and are told that until she was seventeen she had no name and you're like damn we're really going for it and then you finish her backstory chapter and find yourself on the floor staring up at the ceiling with no clear recollection of how you got there, going 'priest, ma'am, what the fuck'.

It's the way she wasn't just variously used and abandoned, but stripped of every facet of humanity and identity and made into a tool or a weapon as thoroughly as a person can possibly be. Stripped of name and self and senses, stripped of the ability to interact with the world unwielded by another, stored in darkness and nightmare until the ability for which she was a mere vessel was needed. The way her gift is sight but she was kept in dark emptiness without even a self or a name or truth to cling to. Her body and mind merely the handle of the knife that was her ability.

Which puts her in good company, in this story.

Echoes of xiao-Ji, trapped in darkness and deprived in any meaningful way of a body, able to see only at the will of another, enduring endless torment in the darkness until it is time to be used. But where xiao-Ji had his Lingyuan-gege, the nameless girl had no one until a stranger brought her a compass (and there is an echo there, too, perhaps, of you once told me I was like the Xuanji star...) and even then she had to find her way.

Echoes of Sheng Lingyuan in how she only ever sees herself as a tool, sees her purpose as helping and protecting others. Puts herself in danger or takes on a task that will at the very least mean pain and doesn't even view it as self-sacrificing because that would require acknowledging a self, and considering its damage a sacrifice. There's no self-pity, no sense of being wronged, just a sense of purpose, the way a lens's purpose is to see or a sword's purpose is to wound.

And of course that conversation with Sheng Lingyuan towards the end of book 4, when she sees the truth of his heart and they discuss emotion and humanity. These two who have never granted themselves the status of human, of person, but who are so acutely aware of what that is and what it means, of its value; aware in the way only an outside observer with a great deal of perception and compassion but no acknowledged personal stake can be. And for Gu Yuexi specifically it's that perception, that ability to see that goes beyond just her Ability... and yet despite that perception and compassion and concern for those around her, the blind spot in her perception is herself, her self.

But unlike those two she is not even awarded the grace given to a protagonist; even in the story, she is in every way a device.

And yet.

And yet the narrative doesn't discard her, nor do the characters around her allow her to be less than human, less than valued, less than beloved. This story in which she is merely a tool and a device does not in the end forget her; it may not be her story but it is the story of all those like her. And the narrative and the characters within it refuse to cast aside the bow once the birds are slain; instead, they build her a home.

All without giving her (demanding of her) a love story, or requiring her to be in any way 'fixed'. She is loved by those around her but she is never told 'you are human because you can love' or 'you are human because you are loved', just 'you are human, and that matters'; she is not required to find another in order to be given a chance to be a self. She isn't even required to truly find or become or change that self in the end; she is as she is, and that is enough, and there is warmth and laughter awaiting her. She is not given the role of a protagonist, or a cleanly finished arc, or a miraculous love. Instead she is handed a compass, and a gentle place to land, and the time to find her way there.

[weidli]

Is it ok to ask what your Bond story is going to be about? 0-0

YES OF COURSE I AM ALWAYS HAPPY TO ELABORATE ON WIPS. it's (a) fun and (b) helps me figure out what the fuck i'm actually trying to do with a certain story

ao3 draft version of The Creature currently looks like this:

(dw i have everything in a word document also. i put active wips in ao3 drafts to 1. give myself a pretend deadline and 2. so i can figure out title / tags / summary / formatting in advance)

the idea for this fic crystallized when i saw this quote:

but the main concepts i'm trying to get at in it have been drifting around my head since i first watched casino royale / quantum of solace / skyfall (only thing in spectre i found vaguely compelling were the bond/moneypenny/q interactions and i still haven't subjected myself to no time to die (even though the fact that we were doing billie eilish's no time to die is the only reason i decided to watch a james bond movie at all lmao), the dc!james bond oeuvre is an open-ended trilogy 2 Me). basically the thing is that although james bond is commonly known as Theee womanizer (this is probably completely true when referring to the earlier bonds and also the books, nothing i have heard about those makes me doubt it) ummmmm. the way the trilogy and quantum of solace ESPECIALLY handles james and sex certainly. Leaves room open for alternate interpretation.

let me elaborate.

(disclaimer: i'm a law major, probably some degree of asexual, and my favorite bond movie is quantum of solace, and all three of these things certainly show)

FIRST casino royale babyyyyy. as noted above not my favorite of the three (least favorite actually lmao) but there's various things it gets points for on my list. but what we're mainly here for is (watch out this is a sentence i will never type again) THE SEX SCENES.

(please put you know my name on now. For Atmosphere)

first interaction we see bond have with a woman in casino royale beyond like. random people who are technically also in the street he's having a standard batshit james bond chase scene in is with m and OKAY YEAH I'LL ADMIT IT i'm not entirely opposed to a romantic reading of that relationship (they're fucked up and it fascinates me. i'm predictable. whatever). but thing is what bond mostly does in this scene is sit there and look at m with big woeful eyes while she tells him to fuck off and die somewhere (three times) calls him a blunt instrument (to be fair he did just blow up an embassy) and also get out of her house and HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE ANYWAY, 007. iconic

it's a HUGELY important scene for establishing how this version of james bond works (i think about "well i understand double-os have a very short life expectancy. so your mistake will be short-lived" often) and james is vaguely flirtatious in the way he always is (i.e. in a way that mostly consists of saying things softly while looking at people the right way) and nothing comes of it all. he doesn't make any real overtures, she doesn't even take off her coat, he leaves when she tells him to.

first SEXUAL bit is solange. he DOES give her bedroom eyes as soon as they spot each other on the beach, but 1. she does it first and 2. this is already The Mission. please consider once again the luca guadagnino quote. why flirt with her? why smile? because he's attracted to her? because it's useful to have the mark's wife want him? who knows! not us! and he's definitely not going to TELL us-

Ah! Well okay then!

and as soon as she tells him the guy he's after is going to be on the last plane to miami he's like Okay i'm outta here (almost visibly turns the switch marked flirtatious and available to the off position). i mean i don't have very much experience in this whole having sexual intercourse lark but that's not really Guy Who's Really Into This Sex Thing behavior to me! he does sex the same way he does killing which is to say. efficiently and with a vague sort of disinterest the second he's not actively performing it for someone.

compare this to, for example, the Whole Relationship bond and camille have in quantum of solace. the whole thing is (as far as i can tell, deliberately) CHOCK full of parallels between the two of them, and the fact, stated in text, that camille has unenjoyable sex with people she despises for the sake of the mission, isn't exactly excluded. consider (among other moments) this:

(James voice Lol same haha)

which is almost IMMEDIATELY followed by

HAHAHA CRAZY. this motherfucker out loud calls camille basically a prostitute and then says james kills everything he touches and then says this. and then we find out that camille is also a spy and is also here to kill a man and james and camille themselves are like yeah we ARE mirrors of each other actually

PARALLELS ARE TWO LINES IT'S NOT A STRETCH TO DRAW THE SECOND ONE IS ALL I'M SAYING. there are two people in this cave and they're bonding over losing someone in a violently traumatic way and then turning themselves into a weapon as a reaction but NOT about also using sex they don't really particularly want to have as a weapon in service of the mission in much the same way as a knife or a gun? don't make me laugh . it's RIGHT THERE. it is literally RIGHT THERE. and they do all this together and nearly die together and he gives her new purpose after she does the killing she meant to do and then all they do is kiss once

that's not SEXUAL!! LOOK AT IT. that's what two people who haven't quite realized that you can touch someone without it being the prelude to fucking or killing do instead of a normal goddamn GOODBYE HUG. that's what you do when you're a damaged creature and someone who's exactly the same as you except she's gotten what she thought she wanted looks into your eyes and sees you and the only thing you can think of to do to stop her looking at you is kiss her. NONSEXUAL INTIMACY between two people who use THEIR BODIES AS A WEAPON IN ANY WAY THEY CAN BABYYYYYY.

god i love quantum of solace. anyway.

my point? i think the fact that james bond has sex on missions often and skillfully doesn't mean he enjoys it. the whole point of these movies is that he does a lot of things for the mission that he doesn't enjoy. i think a more compelling interpretation of this version of james bond is actually somewhere on the asexual spectrum.

But Elke, you say. What about Vesper? the whole POINT of Vesper's role in the story, after all, is that what he does with her ISN'T the mission, and in fact ends up running contrary to mission goals. and yet he has sex with her, long after he's left the mission behind. to quote quantum of solace:

(this is also a point in favor of my SECOND hill to die on when it comes to "things that are probably true of most james bonds but i don't think are actually true of this one", i.e. i don't actually think he gives a flying fuck about england. most of the things he does are either fueled by personal loyalty to a specific person (most of the time, m; briefly, vesper) or personal conviction that it's the right thing to do (see for example him getting mad at m in quantum of solace because he thinks she's putting england's interests over the lives of people in bolivia) i personally don't see much patriotism in it at all)

the thing about vesper is that the initial flirting definitely IS an Standard Mission Behavior thing. their first conversation is a verbal sparring match that only occasionally dips to the physical (his "every penny of it", her "your perfectly formed arse") and i'm pretty sure the sparring match aspect of it is what he finds more interesting ("skewered. one sympathizes."). yes he flirts and yes he kisses her and i think part of that really is about wanting le chiffre to think he's distracted by the pretty woman and part of that is trying to get on her good side because it's useful for the mission. and then part of it is that she's unpredictable and thus fascinating (not least because she DIDN'T immediately step into the honeytrap) and the subsequent way he acts around her is . Hm in a certain way it's playing. this middle section of the movie is about two games james is playing and one of them is the poker game with le chiffre as a worthy opponent and the other one is with her. the sniping at each other is fun! it's different! she understands him in a way other people don't! and she DOESN'T WANT TO SLEEP WITH HIM. people wanting to sleep with him is the predictable standard outcome and she doesn't.

these movies work a lot with bond being a guy who kills people to get done what needs to be done and with how you can't really do that for very long without starting to think of yourself as a weapon rather than a person. even if it wasn't the original intention, i think a reading of the text that does the same thing with sex is DEEPLY compelling enhances the whole thing. the first scene with bond and vesper that really isn't about the mission even a little bit, the first scene where he steps out of his role as 007 for her, is this one:

(FINGERS IN HIS MOUTH FRIDAY)

which is notable 2 me for being wonderfully quietly intimate and not at all sexual about it (despite the fact that they are WET in a SHOWER and also he SUCKS ON HER FINGERS. what was that, james) and also what it's ABOUT. she's messed up over being responsible for a human being's death and he, killer of killers, doesn't ridicule it, but sits down in the shower next to her.

(they do this in a bathroom. i wonder where this james bond's first official kill canonically took place--

ah. oops. well never mind that i'm sure it's not important)

sure, they have sex later. but the first moment of actual, real intimacy is pointedly nonsexual. and listen. listen. i like to interpret bond as on the asexual spectrum, yes. but i think he really fucking likes touch, actually. i think that's what the whole thing with miss fields in quantum of solace is about, besides seducing her into letting him have a bit of leeway. the part he actually wants out of that, if he wants anything, is the one we see on screen-

sure it COULD be sexual. could also just be an excuse to touch someone he won't have to try and destroy with it afterward (and then it destroys her anyway, but that's a different essay). like god. think about it. you are a little boy in a big stone house in scotland and you love your parents and then they're gone and you go into the tunnel under the moor and you stay there for two days and then you come back out because you know you'll have to, someday, but you left your childhood buried in that dirt. and who is there after that? the gamekeeper, kincade, who you were probably close with, but when you meet him again years later you only shake hands. boarding school. the boys talk about girls, about wanting. you try it and it doesn't feel right to you, but then again nothing has, not for years. and you learn to do it, and do it well, like you do everything, because if you don't they'll remember you don't belong here. ("-and they never let you forget it. hence the chip on your shoulder.") the navy. they teach you to kill. in a grimy bathroom you hold a man down into the water of the sink, his body against yours, until he stops moving. ("not well.") you stand there. take a breath. ("made you feel it, did he?") this is what you are now. kill him a second time. kill another man without ever coming close, and starting then the only thing your body is good for-- ("as mi6 says, he's difficult to control. nice way of saying that everything he touches seems to wither and die.") -- is being a weapon, one way or another. you fall in love with her because she takes you apart and doesn't want to sleep with you, and you send in your resignation and sleep with her after all because you love her, you do, and you want to touch her forever, and you don't really mind it, if it's her. (her dead mouth under your mouth and she won't breathe--) you start killing again. you're as good at it as you ever were. one wink, and she's following you to bed. the only person you had left to trust asks you to hold him as he dies, and you do. ("that's better. that doesn't hurt.") drop the necklace in the snow. it nearly does kill you this time ("take the bloody shot.") and you sleep with anyone warm enough and let the scorpion crawl onto your hand and go back anyway, and when he ties you to a chair and puts his hand high on your thigh you say ("what makes you think this is my first time?") --

Which is to say, I have a lot of opinions about James Bond's relationship with his body and relationship with sex and relationship with autonomy, and I'm writing a substantial amount of words of fic about it. PLOTWISE the basic scenario of the fic is that on some mission somewhere, part of the plan is for James to get someone specific into bed, and then before this actually happens, she roofies him, and the subsequent sex happens while Q has some camera somewhere on them. the following god only knows how many words are about Q (who i'm writing as aromantic but not asexual in this, because i can) slowly realizing that something really fucked up is going on here, actually, and trying to fix it, and instead fucking things up harder because he underestimated the level of fucked up inside James Bond is baseline operating at, and then eventually they do figure it out and now maybe MI6 sends someone else out when they can tell from the beginning that a certain mission is going to require sex, and maybe sometimes James and Q sleep in the same bed and don't ever ever ever fuck about it. James makes scrambled eggs in the morning. The cats steal some. It works out okay, maybe.

[revenantghost]

So I’ve had a bit of a thought about plants ever since reading Trimax (no spoilers because we get no answers though lol), and I can’t help but wonder if anyone else has reached the same conclusion? Given the twisted, often mutilated but human-adjacent form that plants have in any given version of Trigun, and given that independent plants are nearly built just like humans...

Are plants the product of human experimentation?

In every translation of what little info I’ve seen, it’s stated that plants were created by humans. Not the product of alien life or anything, but of humans themselves. And given how they look, and given Tesla... Well, I just think it makes an awful lot of sense.

It also makes both Knives and Vash’s plight a bit more interesting, if we’re all growing off the same branch.

[nonbinarybladee]

thoughts feom chapter 1…remember like rifht when u start chapter 2 ralsei is like “gaaah its been so long since ive seen u two!” and susie is like “um..its been a day? lol” So. also .. ralseis like.. kinda aware deltarune is a game. what if its been 3 uears for him and not just a day but its been a day for everyone else

[freethefable]

having a bad time :thumbsup:

[thelostconsultant]

Midnight rain

pairing: Lando Norris x reader

summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.

“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.

It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.

Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.

“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.

And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.

The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.

That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.

“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.

“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.

You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”

At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.

“You watched it?”

“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”

There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”

“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”

“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”

You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.

You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”

He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.

But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.

Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.

When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.

“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.

He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”

Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.

After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.

But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.

You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”

He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.

[celestialprincesse]

You've been trawling through the contents of a mole's USB stick for days now. Dropped upon your desk one Tuesday night, passed down from Laswell, Price, and now, to you. Hours have been spent and wasted on trying to unravel ones and zeroes into something even remotely coherent. Not that you've had any great success.

Simon isn't an idiot, either. He's seen the bags beneath your eyes and the empty packet of painkillers on your desk and the way you feebly attempt to rub migraines away through your temples.

"You need to leave it." Simon's gravelly voice is nothing but background noise against the clatter of your keys as you take out your increasing frustration on your keyboard. Noting the way you don't turn at the sound of his voice, he obnoxiously clears his throat, watching the way your spine jolts ramrod straight, wincing at the way you twist to face his sudden presence.

"What?"

"You've been staring at that for days. Nothing's changed, nothing's going to change. Give it a rest."

Maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but his words have you snorting out an amused, somewhat unnervingly animal sound, head falling into your palms as you rub the gunk from your eyes - which you're convinced must be square right about now.

"It's uh - I don't know. I can't help but think that the minute I leave it alone, something will give."

"Mm." He hums with a knowing nod, spinning the seat at the other side of your desk to sit on it backwards, resting his elbows on the worn wood, leaning over to face you. "No use to any of us if you're barely awake enough to sit upright."

You give another noncommittal huff as you begin the process of turning off your laptop, practically a fortress with how many failsafes you've installed.

" -And," he continues when you finally provide him with all the attention you can in your tired state.

"I don't like seeing you like this." Simon admits, a little sheepish, as though confessing some great adoration you'd been entirely unaware of.

"And, on that note, let's get you home, yeah? Can't have my tech wiz burning out on me."

I'm baaaack! kind of! Have this lil bit of vague reader burnout fluff because I've been watching Slow Horses and obsessing over reader being in intelligence 🫠

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names and Airplanes (Part 3)

Paige Bueckers x reader

It’s Paige’s turn to call the shots.

Themes: smut!! dom!Paige, friends to lovers

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1

Part 2

A/N: IT FINALLY LET ME POST HALLELUJAH!! You sweetie pies asked for a part 3 and here it is! And to whoever was the original anon who sent me the idea for Pet Names and Airplanes, i love u

~

Seattle had crushed Indiana, although that was pretty much a given. What you hadn’t expected, though, was Paige’s attitude after the game. The whole time, her hand was placed possessively on your thigh, fingers only leaving the soft flesh to be thrown in the air in a joyous celebration of Seattle scoring. And you certainly delighted in the way Paige kept sneaking peeks at one of the hickeys she had left at the base of your throat, threatening to expose the sheer naughtiness that had gone down yesterday. And this morning. 

The relationship between the two of you had changed dramatically in the last 48 hours, leaving you with an undeniable giddiness that bubbled in your chest. And now here you were, talking to Nika on the sidelines of the basketball court, feeling the blonde’s eyes on you, the heat of them radiating off of you in a way that had you shivering. 

Your arm was wrapped around Nika’s waist in a friendly hold; you had missed the Croatian girl, but Paige’s body language suggested that if you didn’t back away, you’d be in deep shit. Her eyes narrowed as you scooched in closer, meeting her gaze with a smug look that said ‘Whatcha going to do about it?’ 

It was not long before she was pulled away by yet another throng of young, adoring fans. She posed for pictures and signed basketballs and shirts, a fond smile adorning your face as you watched, thinking that if anyone deserved all of this, it was Paige.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Nika who was elbowing you in the side with a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.

“When are you gonna tell her that you love her?” She questions smugly, and your mouth falls open in shock.

You splutter, not even remotely able to form a coherent sentence for a second. She was able to read you like a damn book, and you felt momentarily embarrassed to think that you were that transparent. You had always worn your heart on your sleeve, but you longed to be one of those girls that were just effortlessly cool and almost mysterious. You hated how people could see what you were feeling just by looking at your face, and while you knew your emotional disposition made you who you were, sometimes it felt like it was your personal downfall.

The blaze of your cheeks add fuel to the fire, and Nika giggles as you hide your face in your hands. You sigh defeatedly. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do.”

“It’s Paige,” she soothes. “You guys have always had something more than just a friendship. It’ll work out.” She pulls you into another hug, just as Paige walks back over to the two of you. She clears her throat loudly, and you and Nika separate, meeting her eye with your cheeks still flushed from Nika’s observation. 

“Ready to head back to the hotel, princess?” Paige asks you, her blue eyes staring into yours, and she wraps an arm around your waist possessively, drawing you into her and away from her old teammate. 

You smirk at her blatant jealousy, mentally high-fiving yourself that at least she also lacked subtlety when it came to you.

“I don’t know, P,” you trail. “Maybe we should hang out with Nika some more.” You wet your lips as you look up at the Croatian girl, who is looking between you and Paige with a confused look on her face.

“I want you. All to myself,” she responds bluntly, sending a wave of butterflies soaring through your belly and straight down to your pussy.

Paige sends a glare in Nika’s direction, and a flash of realization dawns on the brunette, her face morphing into a look of pure revulsion.

“Hell no, you two better not be getting me in the middle of whatever this is” Nika scolded, her accent coming out, mixing with the disgust in her voice. She was smart, and she clearly saw your attempts to make Paige jealous.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow. Just go fuck each other like I know you want to,” she says crudely, holding back a laugh. “But thanks for coming. I love you both,” Nika beams, waving and walking towards the Seattle locker rooms. 

“Finally,” Paige mutters, interlocking your fingers with hers and pulling you towards the exit.

The uber back to the hotel was eventful, and if Paige’s possessive grip on your thigh during the game didn’t have you completely dripping, the open-mouth kisses she had been pressing to your neck and jaw certainly did.

It was difficult to hold back your moans in front of the uber driver who was already eying you and Paige suspiciously, and you let out a sigh of relief as he pulled in front of your hotel. Racing through the hall and opening up the door, you rush in, Paige hot on your tail. 

“Finally got you all to myself,” Paige murmured, looking down at you through lustful, hooded eyes. Her voice was deep and husky, dripping with want, and it reignited the swarm of butterflies in your belly. 

“About damn time,” you respond flirtily, before connecting your lips with hers with a moan. Her lips taste like the cherry slushy she had drank at the game, and the smoothness of them has you pressing up into her, desperate for more. 

Paige opens her mouth for you, intertwining her tongue with yours before suddenly pulling away. You chase her lips with a pout on your own, confused as to why she was stopping. You look up at her with fake indignance, and she gazes at you with a sadistic glint in her eyes. 

“Strip and get on the bed.” 

Her tone is firm, and the dominance oozing from her words makes every nerve in your body light up, temporarily putting you in a daze. You bite your bottom lip in a bruising tug, looking up at Paige with wide eyes. 

“Now.” 

The forcefulness of it sends jolts through your most intimate area, and you pull your top over your head, throwing it onto the floor haphazardly, your jeans following shortly after. You are left standing in a black bra and matching panties, and Paige has moved to sit in the chair, legs spread wide. 

“I want you completely naked, baby. Don’t get shy with me. Want to see those pretty little marks on your tits,” she drawls, and her voice alone has you nearly panting with lust. There was something so naughty about her watching you strip, and your body erupts in goosebumps in anticipation. 

Your bra comes off first. The cool air of the hotel room hits your nipples, perking them up in a way that makes Paige run her tongue across her bottom lip, soothing it from the incessant biting. Your panties soon follow, and your body flushes as you notice the stickiness of your inner thighs from your own slick. 

You climb onto the plush bed, ass sticking up in the air, wiggling provocatively in order to get a rise out of the watchful blonde. Settling against the mountain of pillows with your legs slightly spread, you stare back at Paige, trying desperately to avoid covering yourself up. Her gaze is burning into your skin like tiny pinpricks of lustful want, and you squirm at the lack of stimulation. 

You knew you looked needy, but Paige loved it, reveling in the mild humiliation of you being spread out for her viewing pleasure.

Not wanting to back down just quite yet, you hold her eye contact until she stands, sauntering over to the end of the bed. Her gaze lowers slowly, starting at the base of your throat where the myriad of hickies begin, trailing down to your tits and across your stomach, landing on your glistening center. 

A shiver runs down your spine, tightening your nipples even more, and you lick your lips in anticipation of what’s to come. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me, princess?” She asks, arms crossed and biceps bulging. 

A slight whine leaves your throat. “Yes, always good for you,” you promise.

However, Paige looks unconvinced, a wry smile plastered on her gorgeous features. “You weren’t being very good after the game. Hanging all over Nika like a little slut.”

Your heart pounds at her degrading words, and you try to come up with a decent excuse. “I-” 

She cuts you off with a wave of the hand and a scoff. “Save it. You think you’re a good girl? Prove it.”

Before you can even ask how to prove it, Paige is stripping and laying on the bed with spread legs. You crawl over to her, wanting to do everything possible to please her, but she stops you before you can attach your mouth to her sopping center.

“If you want to taste me, you gotta beg,” she claims smugly, and you flush at her words. Just yesterday, you had the upper hand, and now here you were, about to beg to eat her out. 

“P…” you trail off, but she was devilishly unrelenting. A wide smirk adorns her face as she spreads her legs a bit more, beckoning you closer towards her slick warmth. 

Realizing that you were in fact going to have to beg, you decide to give in, losing the battle between your pride and your sanity. 

“Please, Paigey…” you whimper, lips in a prominent pout. “I’ll do anything for you. Just let me have a taste.”

Paige pretends to think about it for a second, mockingly tapping her chin. “I suppose a little taste won’t hurt,” she relents, and before she can go back on her words, you dive in like a woman starved. 

A long moan is pulled from the depths of her throat as you lick a long stripe across her pussy, and you welcome the taste. She was obviously just as turned on as you. The sheer depravity of the situation hits you, and you reach down in between your legs to take care of the burning ache. Two small circles against your clit is all you manage to make before Paige is leaning down to swat your hand away with a dissatisfied tut. 

“Nuh uh. Don’t be touching your pretty, little pussy.” 

Your cheeks burn, but she quickly grabs your hair into a makeshift ponytail and guides your head back down. And that’s all the encouragement you need. Soon enough she’s a moaning mess under you, coming undone with your name on her lips, and you’re licking your own, as if she was the most delicious meal you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, baby,” she moans. “Such a good girl for me.”

And before you can preen at her praises, she is on top of you. Hot, open mouth kisses are being pressed up and down your neck, alternating between sharp bites and soothing licks, adding to the purple marks. Paige trails her fingers up and down your sides before squeezing at your hips, melding the flesh experimentally. 

“Need more,” you pant out, and she hums against your skin, the vibrations shooting through you add to the overwhelmingness of everything. She is descending down your body now, your belly and hips peppered with kisses, all the way down to your inner thighs. She purposely ignores your aching pussy, and your hips fly up to try and meet the softness of her lips, desperate to feel some stimulation.

“Fuck, P, don’t make me beg again,” you whine, and Paige gives you another wide smirk from between your legs. 

She blows cool air across the heat of your dripping pussy, and mutters, “But it’s so sexy when you beg for me, baby.” 

“Paige, please,” you whimper, drawing out the syllables of her name, and finally she acquiesces. A long string of expletives leave your parted lips as she plunges two fingers into you and swirls her tongue around your swollen clit. Paige’s fingers were magic, pumping unabatedly into you and curling expertly against the ridges of your g-spot. 

You bring a hand up to pull roughly at your nipple, causing Paige to let out a low groan at the sight of you playing with your tits, and the vibration shoots straight through your core. If you hadn’t been so comfortable around Paige, you would almost feel embarrassed about how fast you were coming undone. 

This was some teenage boy shit. 

Your moans grow louder and louder as she adds a third finger, the stretch feeling like nothing from the amount of juices slicking the entrance of your pussy and sliding down your inner thighs. She continues to curve her fingers up to that sweet spot, causing you to see stars, and eats you out with unwavering persistence.

“G-gonna cum,” you moan, and before Paige can respond, you are gushing around her fingers with a high-pitched whine and her name on your lips. She slows down her movements, allowing you to ride out your high, before removing her fingers from you and licking them seductively. 

Fuck she was so hot. 

Paige watches your chest rise and fall while you try to catch your breath, strung out from how good she just fucked you. She thinks that you had never looked so beautiful, skin glowing from the lamp of the hotel and the sheen of your sweat adding to the radiance. You’re looking back at her in sheer adoration, wondering how you got so lucky to be in this predicament. 

“God, that just keeps getting better every time,” you giggle once you catch your breath, and Paige chuckles, nodding in agreement. She heads to the bathroom for a washcloth to clean you up, and once she does, she pulls you under the covers, and you think that life could not possibly get better. 

The two of you bask in the glow of orgasms and an overall fondness for one another, both silently musing over how much your relationship had changed in the last few days. As if Paige was reading your thoughts, you hear her whisper, “I don’t think I can go back to just being friends with you.” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I was thinkin’ the same thing,” you mumble, grateful that you could forego the awkward ‘what are we’ conversation. “I don’t think we were ever really just friends,” you add, you cheeks pink as you recall all the flirty moments that had occurred between you and the blonde.

“True,” Paige says, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, glad we figured that out.” She pulls you in for another kiss, this time sweet and innocent, without the fire that sex tends to follow. It was all you really needed. Paige was all you really needed. 

And when you sit down in your seat on the airplane the following day, you smile as the memories replay in your mind. Love was forged from nothing but a friendship reformed due to a silly little plane ride and a silly little pet name. 

~

woohoo! let me know what you think!! xoxo

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒?

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Charlie Dalton x Reader

You were used to it by now—Charlie Dalton’s constant flirting, his smooth lines, the way his hazel eyes gleamed when he was about to say something utterly ridiculous. And you? Well, you never let him get away with it, always armed with some witty comeback that made the boys around you laugh.

"Hey, beautiful, ever wonder what it’s like to kiss a poet?" Charlie smirked, his voice dripping with that usual arrogance.

You raised an eyebrow, rolling your eyes. "Not quite. Maybe I should kiss Todd and find out?"

The boys howled in laughter, Todd burying his face in his hands as Neil playfully nudged Charlie’s shoulder. But, as usual, Charlie wasn’t fazed. He only leaned closer, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"You know," he said, voice lower, "one day you’re gonna run out of sass and finally admit you’re in love with me."

You opened your mouth, prepared to give the perfect retort, when something strange happened. Your cheeks grew warm. No, scratch that—they were on fire. You blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of how close Charlie was standing, how his teasing smile wasn’t just playful anymore, how his eyes were fixed on you, waiting.

What the hell? Why were you blushing?

You quickly muttered something half-baked, barely coherent, and walked away before Charlie could notice the redness that had surely taken over your face. You didn’t understand. You had always been able to brush him off, but now, for some reason, your heart was racing like it was trying to beat out of your chest.

This was new. And horrible.

What was worse? Charlie had noticed. His teasing eyes followed you all day, smirking like he knew something you didn’t. It was unbearable.

You needed help. Desperately.

So, naturally, you sought out the only person who could possibly understand your predicament—Todd Anderson.

It wasn’t hard to find him. Todd was sitting on the lawn by the lake, writing something in his notebook while Neil was off trying to convince Knox to join his latest idea. You marched over, sitting down in front of him without ceremony.

“Todd,” you said, a bit more forcefully than intended.

He looked up, startled. "Yeah?"

"I need your help. It’s about Charlie."

Todd’s eyes widened. "Charlie?" His voice squeaked a little, and his hand twitched, as if just mentioning Charlie’s name brought anxiety. You could relate.

You groaned. “I think I’m broken or something because today, he said something to me, and I—I blushed, Todd. I blushed. Do you have any idea how horrifying that is?”

Todd’s face softened, but he looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “Uh, maybe it’s not so bad?” he offered, weakly.

You groaned, collapsing backward on the grass. "It is bad. It’s very bad. You know what it’s like. You blush when Neil says… anything remotely nice to you. What does it mean? Am I… Am I in love with Charlie Dalton?"

Todd hesitated, his face growing red at the mention of Neil. "I don’t know," he mumbled. "Maybe. Or maybe he just got to you. He flirts with everyone… right?"

That hit you like a punch to the gut. You threw your head back, laughing, but there was no real humor in it. “Yeah,” you muttered, a bitter taste creeping into your mouth. “Yeah, exactly.”

He flirts with everyone. Why was this any different?

Why did it suddenly matter?

"But it never bothered me before. Why now?"

Todd looked down at his notebook, fiddling with the pages. "Sometimes," he said quietly, "it hits you when you least expect it."

His words stuck with you, echoing in your mind all day, all night. Hits you when you least expect it. Could that really be true? Could you—no, you weren’t about to fall for Charlie Dalton, of all people.

The next day, Mr. Keating announced a new assignment: "Each of you will present an original poem tomorrow. A poem that reveals a part of yourself you keep hidden."

Great. Exactly what you needed.

The whole evening, you tried to write something, but every word felt forced, every line too… wrong. How were you supposed to write about a feeling you didn’t even understand? You stared at the page, and the only thing that came to mind was Charlie. His grin. His stupid, smug face. The way your stomach twisted every time he called you "beautiful" now.

So, you did the only thing you could think of. You wrote.

The next morning, you walked into Keating’s class with your heart in your throat, clutching the folded piece of paper as if it would burn you.

“Ah, (Y/N),” Mr. Keating greeted warmly. “Ready to share with us?”

“Not really,” you muttered, but stepped forward anyway. The boys were watching, but most of all—Charlie was watching, leaning back in his chair with that lazy grin you hated. No. You didn’t hate it anymore. That was the problem.

You unfolded the paper and took a deep breath.

“A boy with words like arrows, Sharp and playful, but always shallow. Until one day, his arrows land, Not in jest, but in my hand.

How do you laugh when you’re struck? How do you breathe with no air? What do you do when the jokes stop feeling like jokes, And start feeling like… something else?”

Your voice faltered, but you kept going, feeling all the confusion and frustration pour out.

“The world tips sideways, Colors all wrong. Why does he make me stutter? Why do I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, One wrong word from falling into his arms?”

The room was quiet now. You could feel every pair of eyes on you, but none more than Charlie’s. You didn’t dare look up.

“Maybe this is what love feels like: Messy, sharp, unexpected, Like an arrow in the dark.”

Your eyes met Charlie’s, and for the first time in a while, there was no teasing in his gaze. He looked... serious.

Todd gave you a small, supportive smile as the silence hung in the air. And then, without saying anything, you took your seat.

But the confusion? It remained. Maybe you’d never understand it. Maybe it didn’t even matter if Charlie flirted with everyone.

What mattered now was how you felt.

[melodic-haze]

remote vibrator in public w sub robin?? 👀

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Robin x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Exhibitionism, mentions of corruption, semi-public sex mentions at the end

☆ — NOTES: Wait I didn't even realise I had essentially already done this oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭 anyway is a cheeky Robin ooc I wonder if it is..........my bad gang I actually haven't finished Penacony yet 😭 ik like spoilers

Such a move spells TROUBLE for a universal celebrity like her.............good thing she likes the trouble you put her through ☺️

You've seen how she dedicates herself to her multimedia craft, putting her all into performing arts for the sake of inspiring people and making everyone happy. Now, you want to see how she does with.......performing for a different reason :3

"Such a risk would be much more trouble than it's worth, you know."

"If it's 'so much trouble', then why are you smiling like that?"

"Maybe I just find your request amusing. You know that the press are determined to spot anything that may give them a good scoop."

It's not as if Robin was wrong—a cosmically-famous figure like her would be risking the possibility of complete and utter ruination with such deviancy, along with.. well, having to face her brother. And The Family too, but mostly her brother. She had the right to be worried.

..But, well, she doesn't really seem to be worried right now, despite her words. If anything, the expression on her face as she leaned on the wall and the slight fluttering of her wings showed a different feeling.

As if she were the cat that got the cream.

"Uh huh," you leaned back on the chaise with a knowing look, eyes narrowed and arms crossed, "what I know is you're not saying no..."

She lets out a false sigh as she pushed herself off the wall to head to you, "Aw, I thought I led you off my trail."

"Like you do with the press? Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, "I know you much better than that."

"You seem so sure."

"Am I wrong?"

"Mm.. no, I guess you're not."

Then she sits down on your lap and wraps her arms around your neck, the wings on her hips wrapping themselves around the both of you like a barrier that separates you from the rest of the world, "And neither are you wrong about my lack of your refusal."

Your hands snake themselves over to your lover's waist.. before moving down further and lightly squeezing her ass, "So that's a yes?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her voice reduced to a raspy whisper, "I could never resist you, sweetheart."

"What a coincidence—I could never resist you either. Must be a Halovian thing, with that halo of yours."

"Haha, who knows."

And that leads on to your present situation: Robin, as an important member of The Family and a famous singer, was invited to a gala as a special guest. Naturally, she attended and was thankful that they allowed her to invite a plus-one. Considering that Sunday had his own invitation, you were practically the most obvious pick out of everyone she could've chosen, both because you were her most important person.......and because this was a perfect opportunity for the both of you

So here she was, clinging to your arm as you talked to some.. some random who was (unsurprisingly) one of Robin's fans, one that's REALLY obsessed with her too, apparently. And really, she wasn't sure whether to thank you for giving her a different thing to focus on or silently plead to you somehow to cut it out, but she essentially clamped her mouth shut for most of the time you were there, not actually trusting herself to let out a coherent sentence

Not just with that one guy too, you do this through the night—your hand mostly in your pocket as you manipulated the controls of the vibrator within her, usually during inconvenient moments to mess with her a bit

During times you're left alone with her as everyone else goes to do other things and talk to other people, you taunt her of how if she doesn't hide it good enough then people miiiight start suspecting something's wrong ☺️☺️ and she wouldn't wanna ruin her career like this, would she ☺️☺️☺️☺️ oh that'd be such a huge shame ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

At first she does actually taunt you back, lightly boasting to you that it takes a lot more to faze her and that it's sweet of you to try...........but as the night progresses you find that she fires back at you less and less, your favourite songbird getting increasingly more quiet, just like how her panties are getting increasingly wetter. But she bares with it with a smile anyway, disregarding the rosy tint in her cheeks as simply applying too much blush HAHAHAHA

It's not just when you two are together either!!! You've both made sure that the toy has a big enough range that you can walk around without the connection being severed from the distance, so it was rather easy for you to manipulate it even while you were away from her. Oh, and how FUN it is, esp when you see her try to look around for you as her wings flutter restlessly

It's actually rather impressive to watch though—even when the night toiled away and it got increasingly harder for her to stop herself from cumming herself silly from sheer frustration, she keeps herself in check. It's almost as if she were completely unbothered, acting the perfect part as a beautiful socialite at a grand event as she sang with (very false) confidence. You would've been fooled......if it weren't for the fact that she had telepathised her need for you to just bend her over somewhere and fuck her dumb instead of letting her continue with this toy inside of her. You almost feel bad

Keyword: almost, especially when you decide to get braver and mess with her a liiiiittle bit more. And she would've been fine with it!!! At least, if it weren't for the fact that this was with HER FUCKING BROTHER LOL

Halovians, the musical and emotional creatures that they are, can probably communicate via special frequencies right?? At least, that's my personal hc, like you can't actually use a radio to intercept it and listen in bc it's like a Halovian-specific kinda thing that can only be read through their halos. Idk how they work lol don't sic me

Anyway through that logic, I feel like Sunday picked up signals of distress from his little sister. He's probably more sensitive to her frequencies too, with how yk. They're related. Like sharing genetic code except it's like if you look at a sound visualiser and see multiple lines at once and the Oak siblings have that one similar line or smth. So he can tell that SOMETHING is wrong with her, just not what specifically (esp when Robin's probably trying her best to block out signals of her lust from ever notifying her brother that smth more is happening)

"Are you certain you're feeling alright, Robin?" Sunday's voice held a sense of urgency and protectiveness, as expected of the one that had been there for her as the one constant before she had left Penacony, "I can tell that something is off.. and your feathers are a bit ruffled."

The worried emotions he had sent to Robin, along with a request to pry into her psychical wellbeing, didn't help the singer at all in terms of calming down—the possibility of her beloved brother becoming unwillingly privy to the fact that her inner workings are so utterly perverse and corrupted scares her. The fact that you had slowly switched the vibe's speed between an agonisingly slow pace and an upward climb as the exchange went on added to the torture.

Though compared to the rest of the night, this time actually felt like you were taking mercy on her, with the way you hadn't decided to suddenly ramp the intensity up out of nowhere.

(And there was that twisted feeling inside her that actually liked the thought of being an R-rated spectacle in front of all these people around them still threatening to take her focus away.)

To keep up the charade as she continued to block Sunday's attempts in peering into her enotions, she could only do what she did best; perform. So she nods her head with a smile, though the latter action didn't really need that much acting, "Yes, I'm feeling alright. I appreciate the concern, brother, but nothing's wrong. Perhaps it's just exhaustion—I don't know how you.. mm.. how you deal with it all the time."

"I could say the same to you," he reciprocates her smile, if a tad bit crooked from his worry, "I think it takes a lot of inner strength, to take on the attention of a universal crowd. Luckily, I know you can more than handle it."

The blue-haired sibling hummed, her smile widening from her brother's confidence, "It's because I know I have you to fall back-- on..!"

The grey-haired sibling furrowed her eyebrows in turn at the sudden yelp, "Are you quite sure you're okay..? You're worrying me, dear sister."

...

Yeah, no, she couldn't carry on such a conversation like this.

Another nod as she digs her nails into her palms in an effort to redirect her thoughts from the overflow of slick in the apex of her thighs, "Y-Yes, I'm fine... I think I just need to take a walk around to.. calm myself. I feel rather warm."

He doesn't reply immediately, leaving Robin in suspense. Could he have figured it out?

..Turns out no, as he lets out a small sigh, "Alright, just remember to tell me if something's wrong, yes? I don't want your comeback here to be an unpleasant one."

"I will, thank you."

She turns around in a hurry—though not that much of a hurry, lest he either gets more suspicious or she somehow makes the toy's effect worse—and leaves, making a beeline for you before grabbing onto your wrist and dragging you off before you could say a word (though the small smirk on your face said all you needed to say).

And Sunday clocks the two of you leaving the main hall together with a raised brow. His initial instinct is to go investigate himself—he knew better than to believe his sister's act, of course... But he thought better of it.

He had an inkling that perhaps this wasn't something he should involve himself in.

And his gut feeling was right, esp when Robin dragged you out and into the first private, empty room she found, pushed you down and started grinding onto your lap like a bitch in heat 🥰🥰🥰🥰

People are going to talk for a WHILE about your sudden disappearance, the both of you KNOW this very well, but right now? Robin doesn't gaf, not when her mind's been reduced to a horny mess as she begs you to finally get her off yourself. Whether you do or you DON'T??? Up to you LMAO

Either way, it's DEFINITELY something unforgettable........and dare I say, tellingly exposing of what your songbird likes 🫶

"Why do I deal with such risks again?"

"Because you love me?"

"..Mm. Yes, that's true."

"Wait, really? That's giving me too much power, birdie."

"And that's perfectly fine," her lips curl into a light grin, "There's nobody else I'd rather obey."

[ramen8008]

The Avengers and whether Tony will allow them to Babysit Peter.

A List

Rhodey:

Yes only one other than Pepper I will fully trust to make sure Peter doesn't die.

Yes, Rhodey is cool other than the fact he always tries to make sure I don't do anything dangerous or fun. So it gets boring

Thor:

No. Point break you're great but I can't trust you and Peter not to cause absolute HAVOC.

YES YES! Lord Thor is the best. We tested how much lightning I could handle last time and we flew!! And he let me use his hammer (idk why he looked surprised I think he forgot about my super strength)

Loki:

He shouldn't even be on the list- but Mr. Stark. No, he comes near you and you or the world explodes.

Well I think Mr. Loki is cool and fun! So yes

NOT HAPPENING!

Natasha:

Yes.

She's scary but yes.

Bucky:

Oddly enough? I actually think he'll make sure Peter doesn't die. So yeah

OMG ROBOT ARM! AND he likes the Hobbit! We can talk all day!! YESS

Steve:

Again surprisingly no. Maybe? Mainly for his sanity. He could not keep up with Peter.

Okay rude! Cap is great and all but I am scarred for life from his PSA's. I can't do that again. I have severe PTSD from that.

Clint:

I UNDERSTAND in hindsight he is the only one who has experience with kids. I GET that. But no. Not the Clint I know. I still think his family is just a bunch of spies.

Hawkeye is SO much fun! He was really cool and he actually understood the references I was making and he taught me how to shoot a bow. AND the best way to prank each Avenger! YES

Banner:

Yes. Absolutely. Peter would have fun. Banner would have fun. He would make sure Peter can do all his science stuff in the lab too without exploding his homework

THAT WAS ONE TIME! And omg YES The Dr. Banner?! I would love that! I have so much I want to talk about!!

Wanda:

What? She's just a kid. SHE needs babysitting too.

Omg Yes! It'll be like we're hanging out! She's so cool!

Vision:

You would ASSUME that Vision would be a no brainer but due to his internet knowledge he understands whatever that slang nonsense that Peter speaks in and Vision speaks back the same. I'll come back to them having a conversation that doesn't make any sense!

Cap. You're just outdated. Unlike you we are both skibidi rizzlers. Don't be salty that you can understand the fam. We're slay and it's high-key sus you don't get our energy.

NONE of that was even remotely coherent. You don't talk like that normally. Why do you do this to me??

Strange:

I would. I really would even if it was just to annoy him but he would not let me. I called him once to look after Peter for me and the moment he heard the name "Peter" he hung up.

He's mean sometimes :(. BUT he is also magic which is really cool and annoying him is fun and I know he cares for me. Mentioning that to him is also fun. So yes

[saphiccarma]

joho 🖖🏿♥️

first of all hopr you had a smooth down christmas if you have celebrated it i just enjoy your writing after a long dryperiod your an autor that made me check my tumblr for any update! i'm way to invested in the "sweet thing" story and im so not rdy for the amount of pain your going to put reader throu cant wait for it to continue x.x

BUT i'm might allowed to request a Vampiric bite part 2? 👉🏿👈🏿

maybe rio await reader at home a few weeks after there first encounter and reader is terrefied so rio does her brainwashthing and devours her again? 🌚

- Vampiric Bite pt. 2

pt.1

Relationships - Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary - Weeks after your first run-in with Rio you were hoping to never see again. Of course you would never be that lucky.

Warnings: Non consensual smut, cunnilingus, lil' bit of nipple play, dark Rio

A/N: aww thank you so much for your kind words! They mean a lot <3

Somone had found you after your little incident. You were left on the floor, blood flowing from your neck and soaking your white shirt as pleasure and confusion ripped through you. Another worker at the event had found you, her scream hazy while you faded in and out of consciousness, but you remembered her calling for her help and getting transported to the hospital.

That was a few weeks ago. You've spent the time since then on constant guard. Every time you saw something move in the shadows you thought it was Rio. Her touch still lingered on your skin, phantom-like but burning hot and leaving you wanting more. You hated yourself for that. There were still two small pin-points on your neck that electrified you every time you touched them. A part of you was almost convinced she was a vampire, but there was no way, they weren't real.

Regardless of your personal doubts, you dug into the subject some more, spending all night bent over your computer since you couldn't sleep. Vampires were rumored to exist, obviously, but the part that stuck out was the ability to brainwash their victims. It wasn't exactly brainwashing, but it was close. Their touch had the power to compel humans, convince them to do things they otherwise wouldn't do. And you couldn't help but remember the way all coherent thoughts left you once Rio's hand landed on you.

Your keys jingled as you slid them into the lock, pepper spray dangling from the keychain. It was a new addition that you kept with you from now on. You debated telling the police about it, see if they could do anything, but they would most likely say you were insane. Pushing your door open, you hardly noticed how off it felt - your bedroom light on and the air heavy. The bag hanging from your arm fell on the floor with a small thud and your shoes followed shortly after.

A relieved sigh left you as you meandered into the kitchen, stomach growling in agreement, with exhausted footsteps. After spending all these weeks hyper-vigilant, you had finally fallen into some sense of peace in your own apartment. You thought you were safe here. Oh, how you were wrong. You rummaged through the fridge, searching for some sort of food to eat, but nothing looked particularly appealing. There was a slight creak behind you and your head snapped back.

Eyes narrowing, you closed the fridge door slowly, careful not to make a sound and stayed focused in front of you. Nothing. After a brief moment you cautiously returned to your search for food, plucking an apple off the counter, deciding that it would do for now. Biting into it and enjoying the soft crunch, you made your way to the couch, flopping down on the old thing that was stiff beneath your back. Your hands fumbled for the remote, absently turning something on with heavy eyes. They were already drooping shut, fatigue taking over.

You chewed on the apple with disinterest, mostly eating to fill the void in your stomach, and lazily watched the show. Faintly you heard another creak behind you, the floors always making sound whenever someone stepped on them, but the TV you were too tired to check. The apple fell from your hand once you finished it, the core tumbling to the floor with a soft thud, and your hand dangling over the edge of the couch. For the first time in a while your eyes slipped shut with ease. Your breathing evened out and you let your brain relax.

That was a mistake.

A sudden weight on your stomach jolted you out of the little moment of peace. Your hands scrambled to push whatever it was off, but there was a pressure on your wrists first, pinning them to the couch. And just like that you felt a familiar haze cloud your brain. Blinking slight sleep from your eyes, you focused on the person who sat on you.

Rio looked beautiful. Her lips were pulled into a teasing smirk as she wiggled her hips and brown eyes sparkled with amusement. It was as if you had seen her just yesterday, her touch familiar and face easily recognizable, the sight seared into your brain. Brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders. Her hands were firm, yet gentle, as she held your wrists tightly against the leather couch. Through the fog that was slowly building, you could also feel panic.

You tugged against her grip, but it did nothing except make you less coherent.

"Hi there sweetheart," Rio purred, her voice smooth as silk, "I was hoping to see you again."

You were at a loss for words, unable to say anything as she tapped on your wrists, releasing them. You stayed there and her smirk widened considerably. Rio wasted no time in smashing her lips onto yours. Her hands found your waist, trailing under your shirt before stroking your skin in soft swipes. She kissed you with a passion that was reserved for lovers, true lovers, and you returned it, greedily absorbing her touch. Everything was already on fire from just a few simple touches.

One of her hands teased your breast, palming it in her delicate hand before teasing your nipple with her thumb. Moving her lips to your jaw, Rio placed hot kisses along your skin. Each one left a searing mark that made your brain short-circuit even more. You couldn't stop the small whimpers that left you, your hands frantically going to grab at her shirt. She laughed against your neck, the sound low and throaty, before you felt a distinct sharpness press down.

Fear spiked inside of you for a moment, some rational part breaking through the fog and you scrambled to push her away. It was a futile attempt. Rio didn't even bother trying to fight back, instead just squeezing your breast tightly before biting down. Hard. You cried out, the sound echoing through your small apartment at the feeling of her teeth sinking into your skin. Rio's hands tightened against your skin as she suckled on your blood. Her tongue swiped over the wound, clearing the blood for a brief moment. She pulled back, licking her lips that were covered in your blood, the corners of her mouth stained. Now you had matching marks on both sides of your neck, in the exact same spot and looking identical.

"You taste divine," she muttered, her hands sliding out from under your shirt. She shimmied off your lap, falling to kneel between your legs. Her hands spread them apart, not giving you a chance to break free from whatever spell she put you in. In one smooth moment Rio ripped your pants off, panties coming with it. Fingernails digging into your skin, Rio placed her lips softly onto your thigh, the touch surprisingly light. It started with gentle kisses, her lips fluttering over your skin, before it turned into more. Her teeth sunk in you in a way that left you whining from the blood that dribbled down your thighs. White hot pain flashed through you every time her fangs slid in and out, drawing more blood.

Stunned by the pain, you had no warning before her lips wrapped around your clit, sharp teeth somehow gone, and tongue flicking out. A shaky breath left you as you whimpered, hands flying to grip her hair tightly. She chuckled, the sound sending vibrations that shot through you, fire igniting in your veins. You were too focused by her tongue slowly beginning to slide in and out of you to remember the pain that burned on your neck and thighs. Pleasure and pain mingled together, leaving your brain a jumbled mess.

With her tongue sliding in and out of you, her lips sucking on your clit occasionally, it didn't take much for you to teeter on the edge of coming undone. Rio's nails dug into your fresh wounds, drawing more pitiful sounds from you. She moaned against your clit and that was all it took. Your thighs shook in her grip as you threw your head back and came, your cum splattering all over her face to mix with the blood.

Rio pulled away, her touch leaving you completely, and you could think a little clearer. Looking down at you Rio smirked as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, your cum and blood smearing.

"Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again," You hated how pleasant her voice was while you were bordering on the edge of consciousness, "But I have to go before you're coherent."

She placed one last kiss onto your lips, your taste lingering, before she was gone.

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I used to think that the reason I wasn't satisfied with Izzy's death was because I was too attached to his perspective as a character and couldn't focus on the big picture of the season and the main Gentlebeard relationship enough. I mean, I was still convinced that his death and the way it was carried out was a shit writing decision, but everyone else outside the Izzy Canyon circles seemed fine with it, so I was starting to think that maybe they were right.

So I looked back on the rest of the season and rewatched the finale... And realised something that I'd been trying to ignore because it was too painful to admit. A huge part of why Izzy's death hit so hard (in a bad way, not that delicious masochistic pain of having a beloved character die a good, narratively satisfying death) was because throughout this season he was the only character who actually had a satisfying arc and development. Practically no one else did. I didn't actually care for Gentlebeard this season, not the way I cared in S1. From episode 1 to 8 and a half, Izzy's arc was crafted with more care, kindness, subtlety and narrative weight than the main Gentlebeard arc which, in comparison, felt like a string of choppy beads badly tied together in an approximate shape of an arc, but collapsed as soon as you looked at it too closely.

Yes, we all know this season suffered for being 2 episodes too short, but I don't think that's all there is to it. This is starting to feel like GoT season 8 all over again. Would it have been better if it wasn't so rushed? Maybe. Or maybe it would have been even worse because this season just didn't seem to know what to do with itself or the characters. The themes and symbolism are all over the place and completely inconsistent. Ed and Stede's characters are practically back at the same place they left in S1. All they did was bounce off the walls back and forth with no real growth. As soon as they took a step towards fixing their relationship or growing as people, they either tool three steps back or it just got dropped. Stede letting fame get to his head? Interesting and realistic development. And how was it resolved? It wasn't. Stede and Ed being whim prone? I'm glad they brought it up. And then they just fell for another whim and it was presented as a satisfying ending.

Ed went from the Kraken, to taking the first steps towards being Ed, then suddenly all the way to being Ed by way of a Night of Magical Healing Sex that he he didn't actually want to happen because he wasn't ready. And then all of a sudden he pivoted to abandoning Stede and piracy and becoming a fisherman... for 5 min. And then back to Blackbeard again because two fishermen were mean to him for 5 minutes. And then abandoning it again to open an inn. How was any of this even remotely coherent or satisfying? They didn't even have a single conversation about any of it. Ed had more proper closure and communication with Izzy during his dying scene than with Stede and the rest of the crew put together. Izzy's arc got sacrificed to do the heavy lifting for Ed's arc and became nothing more than a shortcut to speed run his character growth. Except it didn't even lead anywhere. "Ed, they're your family, they love you" no they don't, he didn't even have a single positive conversation with any of them except Fang. Of course this could have been the point, and Ed could have seen Izzy's death, his own discovery of found family and his dying words as a pretext to repair his relationship with the crew. But he just left them and stayed with Stede instead.

Sure, you could say this was only the second act of the story, and S3 will resolve everything. But the second act is still meant to move the story and the characters forward in some way. Yes, of course if we get S3, I imagine Stede and Ed's life as innkeepers won't exactly be idyllic. But the problem is that the conflicts they'd have will only be a rehash and repeat of the same conflicts they've already have, or were supposed to have, this season. Multiple times, even. We already know that Ed is simply unable to live with himself no matter what life he chooses. The title of S1 was literally "wherever you go, there you are". We already know Stede's love isn't enough to fix him. We already know their goals in life are completely opposite. Maybe they could have shown Stede realising, after his humiliating in S7, that piracy wasn't all it was cracked up to be or he isn't suited for it, and that's why he chose to leave it behind and open an inn, but that's not the explanation we were given. It was just another whim. They literally didn't learn anything this season. They had two baby conversations in E4 and E5 and didn't take anything from it, just kept doing the complete opposite of anything. "We're both prone to whims, let's take things slow" became "let's take things extremely fast by moving in together permanently and becoming entrepreneurs". They never talked about the actual, deepseated, longstanding trauma issues they needed to resolve before they could even begin to have a proper relationship. They literally got a heavy-handed glimpse in what their life would become if they just stuck together without addressing their own personal issues, and chose to do that very thing. It that's what S3 is going to address, then why were Anne and Mary part of this season instead of the next one?

I remember everyone saying they wanted Ed and Stede to reunite as quickly as possible in S2, and I get why. They have great chemistry together. The season is about them. But for it to work, spending more time apart is exactly what they needed. They needed to learn how to live with themselves and others, first. Romantic love alone can't fix you as a person. You have to fix yourself first. Community can help (as with Izzy's case), but you still have to put in the work. In retrospect, I'm glad that Izzy didn't get a love interest this season - because he wasn't ready yet, and had to learn how to have normal relationships and friendships with other people before attempting an intimate romantic relationship, lest he ended up falling head first unit another toxic mutually dependent relationship. That's what Stede and Ed should have tried too. Instead the show just ended up using Izzy's death as a quick surgical fix, robbing Ed of his agency and having to do the hard work repairing himself and his relationships with other people. There's a sad irony in getting exactly one character's arc just this, and then using it as a sacrificial lamb to patch over the main character's arc.

[darkshrimpemotions]

There's no way I can be even REMOTELY coherent and putting under a read more to make EXTRA sure I don't spoil anyone but MY GOD. OH MY FUCKING GOD. (so many spoilers below the cut, I cannot overstate this lmao)

This episode. This fucking episode. First of all, me and some friends watched The Warriors (1979) - the film Colin references at the start of the episode and the inspiration for the episode's overall plot and premise - a few weeks ago and I have been feral ever since at the Implications and Possibilities. But in the end, I knew they couldn't give us EVERYTHING that a 90-minute movie gave in 25-30 minutes. There are the things I desperately wanted, in order of most to least:

Guillermo being confronted with the vampires and his slayer family and choosing to go with the vampires once and for all.

Guillermo and Nandor argument while broken away from the group that ends in a feverish kiss (yes, I knew this was a very remote possibility, but it was a nonzero chance, Swan/Mercy is SO Nandermo coded!!!).

Guillermo fight scene, Nandor fight scene, OR Guillermo and Nandor fighting back to back against a horde of vampires.

The death of fucking Jerry.

Either no Guidor at all or a solid rejection from The Guide.

A bunch of themed vampire covens facing off with our beloved Staten Island vampires.

Just a big wide-lens look at vampire society overall, maybe with some cool cameos from other vampire media again.

Fun costumes and direct references to the movie beyond just the plot, whether in filming style, music choices, specific lines, etc.

And here's the thing. This episode gave me MOST of what I wanted, some of it in ways I didn't expect, and the only thing it DIDN'T give me that I desperately wanted was the Swan/Mercy parallels with Nandermo. But then...it honestly kind of did still? It was SUCH an episode.

Like I said NONE of this is coherent but once again, Colin Robinson being the MVP of little asides that are so fucking funny when you catch them. Nadja killing spree my ABSOLUTE beloved. More Ladja talking through some of their issues and being thee married couple of all time. THE GOOD GUIDOR i.e. Nandor finally tries to make a move and gets shut down SO hard, with the Guide EXPLICITLY positioning herself as just another check in Nandor's long-standing pattern of chasing after relationships that won't ever work long-term.

And all the vampire family talk! First, Nandor saying Guillermo isn't part of the family anymore (HELLUVA WAY TO FIND OUT HE EVER WAS LMAO) and the rest of them chiming in and egging him on about how he's made it SO clear he wants nothing to do with the vampire world. And what I love is how soundly it reads as utter bullshit. OF COURSE he's still part of the family. They all know it, and so does he honestly.

That's why he doesn't even hesitate later when he says Nandor's his best friend. That's why they immediately call him when they need help, and he of course immediately runs to help them. If anything, that was ONCE AGAIN Nandor trying to get Guillermo to insist on his place at Nandor's side (a la THE LAST THREE SEASONS) and this time the whole family backed him up on it and Guillermo STILL didn't take the bait. Because Guillermo doesn't need to insist on it, he knows where he really belongs and fits. He practically said it himself when he was talking to Miguel about Familia.

And then Nandor being so delighted to meet Miguel...having heard and remembered stories Guillermo has told him about Miguel...saying Guillermo's family are their family and of course Nandor and the others would never hurt him.

AND THE RETURN OF SLAYER MEMO. The way Nandor looked at Guillermo when he killed that guy with a fucking No. 2 pencil. The way they all not only trusted that Guillermo could handle it without them, but also were having such a great time watching and calling out encouragement (Colin again my beloved).

GUILLERMO TELLING MIGUEL ABOUT VAMPIRES AND MIGUEL BEING COOL ABOUT IT. Miguel being ride or die for his primo despite clearly thinking he's lost his mind.

EVERY SINGLE FUCKING OUTFIT. YANA CAMEO MY BELOVED. ALEX SKARSGARD. ALL THE VAMPIRE GANGS WERE SO FUNNY AND PERFECT. FUCKING JERRY IS FUCKING DEAD.

They gave me basically everything I wanted except Nandermo making out in a tunnel as a train rushes by them. But like. I always knew that was Unlikely lol (still, I do have Thoughts and Feelings about it but. Eh...I'm not going to let it ruin my enjoyment of the episode, not with Nandor and Guillermo giving each other all those fucking heart eyes and basically reaffirming that they're family, and Nandor MEETING YET ANOTHER MEMBER OF GUILLERMO'S FAMILY AND BEING ACCEPTED. Introducing his bf in increments).

And the Baron being absolutely on top of his shit, the hair, the robes, the plan, the several kids and a doting husband at home...He is Everything.

Just a great fucking episode! And after last week's very cute fun little episode! I feel like I could lift a bus. No idea how I'm going to sleep.

[highonmarvel]

Hiii cutie-spud!! I have a request...vampire!bucky? I saw you liked vampires, and this potato likes vampires, so maybe we need a good dick down of vampire!bucky, making sure we can never leave him. After all, he found us, loves us like no other can, shouldn't we give our all to him?

🥔 ❤️ u

Warm

hi! oh my goodness! i’ve been a fan of your work for a few months, i’m so excited you know me! i feel like a bit of a celebrity, i can’t lie. thank you so much! i love you! and i’m sorry this took forever—i’m the world’s slowest writer. i really hope you like this, omg—this is my first time doing a request. okay, here we go.

Vampire!Bucky saves you from a car wreck. 18+

Dub/Non Con Warning!

more content warnings here!

You slowly peel your eyes open, and almost immediately regret doing so—even though it’s dark out, the little light there is adds to your headache, worsening the ringing sound in your ears, and a soft, rhythmic thump. You consider closing your eyes again, slumping forward and drifting back off to the sleep, but that beating becomes louder, and more coherent.

“Hey… Hey… Hey…” is all you can make out, a gentle coo lulling you back to sleep, until an arm shoots through glass and a hand grips on the door handle from the inside. You scream and sit up, noting a sharp but dull pain in your neck as you do so.

“I���m sorry,” a voice calls, still sounding far away and obstructed by the ringing in your ears, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You gasp as the door flies open and a man holds out his arms and coaxes you into them.

Unsure of what’s happening, you fall out of your seat, but he catches you with his strong arms and gentle chants, “It’s okay, I’ve got you, it’s okay…”

You look up at where you had stumbled out from: a car—your car—the front of it squashed against a tree and smoking from the hood.

“My- My car,” you manage to croak as you hold your arms out toward it.

“You had an accident, it’s okay, I’ll call someone, let me just take you back to my place, is that okay?”

You hesitate but even through your hazy mind you manage to remember your phone had died somewhere on the drive down from the mountains—you had been camping with your friends! in a remote area—before the accident. You left before them, and you were all taking the same route back to the city… how could they not have seen you? The ringing in your ears is dying down slightly and your surroundings are eerily quiet—just distant rustling and chirping. It’s dark, and it’s cold, so you must be outside, but you can’t see the moon—you can barely see anything. You look up and can make out just a few stars, the rest of them being covered by long, thin tendrils breaking into the night sky.

Branches. Trees! You’re in the woods.

“Is that okay?” he repeats.

You groggily look up at him and wince as you nod your head. He stands and effortlessly pulls you up with him; you squeal as he wraps a cold arm around your waist and raises you as he stands. Your feet are dangling off the ground for a moment until he gently sets you down, but keeps his hold on your waist. He brings his left arm over to your right and gently raises it to lay across his shoulders.

“There we go, good job,” he praises quietly as he takes a step forward, before asking if you’re able to walk. You take a step with him and sway slightly, head still spinning, but he catches you before you fall away from him and holds you slightly tighter against him.

“I can carry you,” he offers. You decline.

“You don’t seem like you have any major injuries—thank God—but you’re…” he slows down and drops the hand you have draped over his shoulders. He brings his fingers up to lightly touch your temple, to which you wince, “Sorry,” he mumbles, bringing his hand to his eyes, pale finger tips now stained with crimson, “You’re bleeding.”

You can barely make him out in the blackness of the forest and through your slightly blurred vision, but you swear his eyes flash with something… something you can’t name. But you can barely think about it; he swiftly picks your hand up again and starts walking.

It’s not possible to tell how long you were walking, but you can’t say it feels excruciating, your legs aren’t tired from the walk either; and you can’t tell the distance you’ve travelled, as you had just kind of zoned out, letting him do most of the work as you mindlessly pulled along.

But by the time you had reached a cabin, you were starting to regain a better form of comprehension, though your head was still aching.

You were grateful for the warmth of the cozy lodge, by size it was clear he lived alone.

“Thank you…” you say as he sets you down on a brown leather couch and hands you a blanket. You throw the warm cover over your shoulders and hold the corners together in the front as you settle a little more comfortably.

“Bucky,” he finishes for you with a smile.

“Bucky,” you complete your thanks, and give him your name in return.

“Does anything hurt?” he asks, calling over his shoulder as he ducks into a cupboard and begins rummaging around.

“My head’s killing me—apart from that, no,” you respond as he comes up, holding a small first aid kit in hand.

“Guess a concussion,” he says as he sits in a leather seat across from you, setting the bag down on the table next to it, “But here,” he lightly touches your left temple and you jerk away slightly. He pulls back to stare down at his fingers, “You’re bleeding… a lot. I think you need stitches.”

As he spoke he stared at his blood-painted fingers, for some reason making you uneasy. You shift uncomfortably and pull the blanket tighter around you. You lightly clear your throat and say, “I don’t need an ambulance or anything, but we should probably call someone to get my car, and, uhm, they can take me home.”

“I see a lot of you,” he says as he stands. Under the soft, yellow light of the cabin, you’re able to get a better look at him: he’s fair-skinned, tall, and strong with slightly wild hair, and even wilder eyes, fixated on you with a… hunger, like you’ve never seen; not just predatory, nearly inhuman altogether, “A lot of people come up and stay for no more than three days, and their biggest concern? Bears.”

He locks the door.

“When there’s much worse to fear out here.”

You’re unable to speak as he stalks towards you.

“And I’ve watched you, and I like you,” you shift up the couch, trying to put distance between you and him… or, you and… it.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, you didn’t seem to be having too good a time,” he sits in the spot you just were and watches you squirm slightly, before he simply places his hand on your ankle and you still, paralysed, “Looked like you wanted to enjoy the scenery, and I kept thinking, ‘She should have come alone.’”

You had wanted to come alone; though you loved Natasha and Yelena, they weren’t much into exploring, preferring to stay at camp around the fire and stick to the set hiking trails, which, absolutely, you enjoyed, but they didn’t want to stray too far from the set paths—though the location was remote, it was by no means unpopular, and everyone pretty much knew the safe places to stay. One night you had taken a stroll, and could have sworn you felt eyes on you.

“Your friends… they seem nice, sweet, even. And they were.”

The way he annunciates sweet. And… they were sweet? You don’t get a chance at exactly comprehending him until he interrupts your thoughts in less than a moment,

“But I know you taste better.”

You gasp and push away further as cold fingers wrap around your ankle, but he’s pulled you down and is on you in a second, hovering above you with a smile; teeth impossibly white with… fangs.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your bleeding temple, pulling back to look at you with red lips. He flicks his tongue out and nearly moans at the taste, still grinning down at you.

Adrenaline coming from you don’t know where, you pull your knee in and punch up hard against his groin. He nearly falls on top to you with a grunt as he clutches his crotch, but you roll aside and tumble to the floor, hastily standing up as you dart for the door, manoeuvring around the coffee table and knocking stuff off the mantle of the fireplace in your rush to get to the exit. Of course he’s faster, blocking the exit and pushing you down.

You shriek as you fall backwards, actually nearly falling into the fireplace, and he lands over you, skilfully sticking out his arms on either side so he doesn’t crash into you. With really nowhere to go but into the fire, you try to shift down underneath him, but he painfully grips your neck and tugs you back up, holding your head just above the fire. You grasp at his grip on your throat with one hand and hold yourself from dropping into the flames with the other, your elbow dangerously close and heating up, and strands of hair coming loose—you wonder how your hair hasn’t caught fire.

“How many men have said they’ll love you forever… and how many really can?” he questions, to which you can barely even hear through your circulation cutting off and the imminent danger of being burnt alive, “You know what I am,” he continues, lowly, dropping his lips to your ear, “You know what I can do.”

When he pulls away, you notice the steel blue eyes you had not known well have turned to a red, and that you feel like you know all too well; eyes that have been watching you.

He swings you down underneath him and you fly through his legs, gasping for air. Your head hits the wooden floor hard and starts up that ringing again.

He lifts you up easily and holds you to his chest. You struggle in his hood as he tries to calm you; “I saved you, remember? I’m not gonna hurt you; I could have left you to die, but I didn’t, see? Because you’re special, so special…”

You’re not sure where he’s walking to until he tosses you onto a bed. You can’t even bounce against the mattress before he’s got a knee between your thighs and has gathered your wrists into one of his hands, holding them above your head. You struggle underneath him, but he still he continues in a gentle voice, “I saved you, you owe me—in fact, this benefits you; I can make you feel good, you need it, angel.”

“Bucky, no,” you say, firmly, but he might as well not have heard it.

He brings his other hand down to rub circles on your thigh.

“You’re warm,” he notes, though you assume just about anything is warmer than him—he’s so cold it burns, like dry ice.

You (nearly) regret wearing shorts when he runs his cold hands up your thighs; you shiver, and not because of the cold.

There’s something so… otherworldly about his touch; it’s foreign, yet so familiar it scares you. He shifts down and lightly grazes his teeth over your thigh. You whimper in anticipation, and he smiles against your skin.

“And you’re soft…”

He does it; his fangs pierce your thigh, and you wince at the sharp sting, but you just can not bring yourself to push him away, or even kick anymore, there’s some primal need to have him, that disgusts you, your body completely betraying you to give up to a man from fiction, old wives tales—that’s all vampires were supposed to be.

But you’ve got one between your legs.

He sucks, yet more gentle than you thought, and not for long, drawing blood from you in short intakes. After just a few seconds he pulls away and looks up at you with red eyes and a grin, exposed sharp teeth stained in a deep crimson.

This is quite literally the most danger you’ve ever been in; there’s no way in fucking hell you could escape a demon from there, from hell.

You press a hand to the thigh he bit, and bring your index and middle fingers up to stare at the two spots, watching as the red dots seep down to your palm with your mouth slightly open. You can not believe what’s happening, panic now really setting in.

It’s so odd, the juxtaposition between his soothing touches and dangerous nature. You’re near hyperventilating when he leans down to your neck. He pushes your hair away and brushes his lips against you, breathing steady, while you stare up at the ceiling, chest rising and falling so fast you’re afraid it may burst. You bring your left hand up to smack him away, but he catches your wrist and softly sets your palm against his cheek.

“Did I scare you?” he whispers, and you can feel him suppress a smile, “I do like my damsels in distress…” he drawls, bringing his lips up to your ear, “But you’ll be okay; I saved you. Remember, honey?”

You press your palm down harder, trying to hurt him, but that just pushes him to kiss your neck. You jerk away and turn over on the bed, but he’s there in a flash, elbow propped up on the pillow, holding his cheek in his propped up hand.

“How many men have told you they’d love you for eternity, and how many really can?”

He raises himself up over you, and now he’s looking ravenous; you’re afraid he will literally devour you. Never breaking eye contact, he rips your shorts straight off, and tosses the torn fabric. He brings a hand between your thighs and lightly drags a cold finger over your slit, wet, to your embarrassment.

You expect him to mock you as he raises an eyebrow, but he quickly drops it and brings his hand up to run down the side of your face.

“It’s okay,” he coos, “You know you need this.”

He’s naked before you realise it, fair skin complementing his six pack and strong arms—you don’t stand a chance. He rips your shirt off, and you gasp at the fabric sliding against your skin, leaving you exposed to the relatively warm air of the cozy cabin, but your nipples still perk.

You manage to look at him: he’s fucking huge.

As if reading your mind, “You can take it,” he assures as he slips your underwear off before lining up with you.

Slowly, he enters you with a low groan, and you gasp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist and grasping at his back, trying to gain some bearings at the intrusion, whimpering. He starts to move at a slow pace, almost like he’s trying to restrain himself, panting as you squeeze around him.

He drops his head to your shoulder, his breathing heavy on your neck as he praises you, “Fuck, you’re so warm… feel so good, you’re doing great for me, angel… doing great.”

He can barely speak through his groans, but either way you can barely hear him, his voice drowned out by your moans as he thrusts into you at a steady enough pace, but still you can hardly take it; this is a different kind of pleasure—as he hits you in just the right spot again, and again, and again—but you can’t figure out why, and you don’t even care, breathing hard as you dig your nails into his back.

He presses his lips back to your neck, and your nerves scale up for a second when he starts harshly sucking, but only to leave a hickey, for sure.

“Bucky,” it’s such a broken plea you wonder if you even got his name out coherently.

“Can you come for me? Can you do that?”

He brings a hand down to circle your clit as his breathing becomes ragged and thrusts harder.

“I- Fuck!” you cry as you convulse, back arching up as you clench down on him. Seconds later he reaches his high, cursing as he comes inside of you, trying to catch his breath with a smile on his face, admiring your wrecked state.

“Good girl,” he breathes, “You did so well, angel.”

You try to turn over, but he grips your hip and pushes it back down, forcing your body to face back up at him.

“I can last forever.”

✪

[frogletscribe]

Im back with more biodiversity rambling!!!

Went for a simpler style to doodle these guys out a little faster bc i have MANY thoughts always (warning this may or may not be coherent, i apologize in advance)

IMPOARTANT NOTE: the only thing even remotely canon here is the Forest and Reef Na'vi (debatable bc they are still my own interpretations), everything else is just my own musings and personal need for more variation among Na'vi.

In previous posts i think i mentioned the insane venn diagram that lives in my head of forever overlapping and endless combos of Na'vi yadayadayada, this is (LOOSLY) that.

SO, if you have seen my initial post (here) some of these guys might be familiar, but since then, i added Wetlands, Highlands, Glacier and Ash? people! And I have Thoughts ™️

Now I'm gonna hold off on Ash? people for the most part here, mostly because i am a creature that likes at least some level of "Canon Compliance" and we really won't know anything about them until the next film, so i have yet to form any solid headcanons. That being said, I do have a couple quick things:

The name 'Ash People' leads me to think that their generally building lives/evolving around volcanic areas, grey/darker skin tones from evolving around ash?

Thicker/rough skin (volcanic rocks are sharp!) and less fur/fluff on their tails.

Wetlands I imagine as clans that have evolved as a combo or River and Reef, but also Plains, as wetlands (at least as I understand them, i know that there's more to them than this but I am simplifying here) are effectively big wet fields.

I liked the idea of how if River Na'vi developed 'armor' due to swimming in constantly moving water with lots of rocks/fish/debree/etc, that Wetlands might be similar, but not quite on the same level.

Comparatively, Wetlands have no claws, and a thinner more paddle-like tail, more similar to Reef Na'vi.

Highlands I see as Plains Na'vi that evolved for colder biomes, so they keep the builds, maybe in general larger on average, closer coloring to Plains Na'vi and the longer tails, fur and claws of Mountain Na'vi.

Lastly Glacier Na'vi is the Mountain + Reef combo to create the giant spotted seal people of my dreams. I did not show it well here, but I think both Mountain and Glacier hold more fat in their bodies than other Na'vi, as well as Reef Na'vi being physically larger as well. That combo probably makes Glacier Na'vi massive (like 12-14 ft tall). Living in significantly colder climates, they need to be able to hold more heat in their bodies too, so they are physically much larger all around.

All of these are still just loose and I continue to be vague about a lot of it bc biodiversity and cultures that evolved around a given biome are two separate things to me. I like that these can be used as like umbrellas that the actual clan cultures can be born under, but not 'rules' or anything.

(I do have at least 1 (possibly 2) fan clan situations cooking in my noggin that i am slowly working on, but that's also something i want to be very conscientious about as I build it out.)

Anyways! Thanks for reading if you made it this far! Let me know your thoughts, I love talking about this sort of thing, hearing people's feedback and building off of it!!