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c-e-d-dreamer · 10 months ago

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You Are Not the Kind of Boy (Who Should Be Marrying the Wrong Girl): Part Two

A/N: Don't you just love the (squints at the smudged writing on my hand) tradition of fucking a Duke's son? Prompts are made to be suggestions, right? Anyways! Happy Day Two of @sjmromanceweek! I hope everyone enjoys this very smutty part two of Regency Elucien 😉

Read on AO3 // Previous Part // Next Part

“Promise me, Elain.”

It takes everything within Elain to keep her face neutral, to not give away her swirling emotions or where her thoughts have strayed. She keeps her smile sweet, keeps peering up at Lucien from beneath her lashes. She places both her hands on his chest, slowly sliding her hands down, digging her nails in just enough to feel the way Lucien shudders beneath her touch.

“I said of course.”

“Fuck,” Lucien murmurs, his hands traveling further down Elain’s arms until his fingers circle her wrist, squeezing gently around her fluttering pulse. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

Elain presses up onto her toes, her lips barely a breath away from his. “Show me.”

Lucien’s hands move to Elain’s jaw, the warmth of his skin tingling across Elain’s cheeks. He tilts her face up to his, bettering the angle, before slotting his mouth firmly against hers. It’s a kiss, a proper kiss, his lips moving and slotting against Elain’s. She sighs and melts against him, drawn into his warmth, into his light. She meets him stroke for stroke, finally giving in to her desire to bury a hand amongst the red strands of his hair.

Both their chests are heaving by the time they finally separate. Lucien seems almost reluctant to pull away, leaning in and stealing another searing kiss. With a soft groan, he pulls away completely, eyes burning beneath the red and orange glow of the setting sun. His lips are already slightly pink and swollen from just that one kiss, and Elain is sure she’s never seen a more beautiful man in her life.

Lucien grabs Elain’s hand again, but this time, he starts to lead her across the grass and the field and toward his family’s estate. With their fingers laced firmly together, Lucien guides them both to a door along the western wing, yanking it open and tugging Elain inside.

Elain expects them to have stepped through a servants’ entrance, perhaps to have snuck in through the kitchen or even the servants’ quarters, but instead it appears to be some sort of drawing room overlooking the gardens. Lush rugs cover the floors, thick, gorgeous curtains framing the tall windows along the walls. Whether Lucien notices Elain’s shock or confusion, he doesn’t stop, pulling Elain out of the room into the main hall beyond and toward the large staircase.

“Lucien,” Elain hisses, squeezing his hand tighter. “Aren’t you worried someone will see us?”

“Let them see,” Lucien offers over his shoulder. “They should get used to the sight anyways.”

Lucien turns back around, continuing up the stairs and pulling Elain behind him. It’s just as well. It means that Lucien doesn’t see the way Elain’s face falls, the way she swallows hard. She supposes she should have known. Of course, someone as beautiful as Lucien, a Duke’s son, was sure to have the attention of many in the ton. Of course, Elain isn’t the first person to pass through these doors with him. After she walks away, she’s sure that she won’t be the last.

“Elain,” Lucien’s voice draws Elain out of her thoughts.

Elain blinks a few times and realizes that they’re now standing in a bedroom. It’s like stepping inside an autumn wood. The walls are hues of oranges and reds and golds, curtains fluttering in the early evening breeze of the opened window overlooking the lake. A large four poster bed of dark wood sits in the center of the room, dark green blankets draped across the mattress.

“Elain,” Lucien repeats, his fingers gentle beneath her chin. “If you’ve changed your mind, we can–”

“No,” Elain quickly cuts him off, curling her fingers into fists in her shirt. “No, I want this. I want you.”

Lucien groans again, burying his nose against her hair. “Hearing you say those words… it’s going to be the death of me.”

“Perhaps that’s my plan all along.”

“What a way to go it would be. I’d meet the Mother smiling.”

“You really are a scoundrel, Lucien Spellcleaver.”

Lucien’s smirk has Elain’s heart thudding harder still between her ribs. “Your scoundrel, Elain Archeron.”

Before Elain can even really think on those words, Lucien’s lips are back on hers. One hand curls around her jaw, holding her exactly how he wants her, the other curling around her waist and pulling her close again. His tongue slips into her mouth, curling and drawing a moan from her, as he presses her back against the wall.

He pulls away but he doesn’t go far, trailing his lips along her jaw, down her neck. Heat fires down Elain’s spine, and she presses her thighs together against the flare of warmth low in her gut, as his teeth nip right at her pulse point, sucking the skin between his lips. His hand finds the sleeve of her dress, pushing it down her arm and exposing her collarbones for him to trace his lips across.

“Lucien…” Elain whispers, her voice breathless and chest heaving.

Lucien lifts his head, and Elain is quick to draw him back in for another kiss, already drunk off the taste of him. Already desperate to keep him pressed here against her, their lips sealed firmly together.

“Keep saying my name,” Lucien murmurs against her lips.

“Lucien,” Elain moans, her head falling back against the wall as Lucien’s fingers knead her breast through the fabric of her dress.

He drops down to his knees, Elain blinking in confusion and able to do nothing but watch as Lucien gathers up the skirts of her dress, ducking beneath them. She nearly jumps in surprise when she feels his fingers on her ankle, his touch slowly sliding up over her calf, her knee.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I have long dreamed of,” Lucien answers, his fingers making surprisingly quick work of her undergarments.

Elain feels truly exposed, and she can’t decide if it’s better or worse that she can’t quite see Lucien beneath her skirts. But she can feel him. Feel the heat of his gaze burning straight through her skin. Feel the way his fingers curl into her thighs. Feel his hot breath where it fans out across her cunt. She can feel her own arousal damp and sticky against her thighs, a thrumming need that matches the pace of her pounding heart.

She lets out a squeak of surprise when Lucien licks a thick stripe over her, the sound spilling over into a moan when his tongue finds her clit. Lucien repeats the motion again and again, and Elain has to press a hand over her mouth to keep in the choked out sounds threatening to escape. Especially, when Lucien lets out a groan of his own against her, Elain able to feel the vibrations all the way down to her toes.

“Oh my gods,” Elain sighs, starting to rock her hips against Lucien’s mouth and his ministrations.

Lucien’s grip on her thighs tightens, lifting one of her legs and settling it over his shoulder. It fully opens her up to him, allows him to feast like a starving man, like this is the only meal he’ll ever want. The magic he works with just his mouth draws endless moans past Elain’s lips. It’s licking long, slow stripes and then swirling his tongue in circles over her clit. It’s sucking her clit between his lips and then his tongue breaching and fucking up into her.

Each change up, each groan from Lucien, has Elain grateful for the wall at her back holding her up. Time slips away from her, every point of her body and mind and soul focused on Lucien and the way he works her body. Her toes curl, that heat low in her gut tightening like a coil, like a bow being strung back and ready to strike. Blissful release seems within reach, glittering just ahead of her outstretched hand.

“Lu… Lucien… oh gods.”

It’s the only warning Elain is able to give before her orgasm sends her tumbling down headfirst. Her thighs squeeze around Lucien’s head, her back bowing forward off the wall, as heat rushes through her veins. The hand over her mouth does little to hide or disguise her loud choked off moan, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Elain only hopes there aren’t too many people in this wing of the estate.

Lucien slips out from beneath her skirts, his lips and chin shiny and slick. Elain can feel embarrassment beginning to flood through her cheeks and heating the tips of her ears, but then Lucien makes a big show of licking his lips, eyelashes kissing the golden skin of his cheeks as his eyes flutter. Somehow, he makes the obscene sight beautiful, and all the heat in Elain’s face quickly simmers and begins to flush down her chest instead.

Lucien clambers back to his feet, crowding into Elain’s space again. His hand comes up to cradle her cheek, thumb dragging across her bottom lip. “Elain Archeron, you are something else.”

“You better mean that in a good way,” Elain fires back, daring to nip at his thumb in retaliation.

Lucien chuckles, Elain able to feel it where their chests are pressed together. “Always.”

Before Elain can say anything else, Lucien kisses her again, deep and thorough. Elain moans against his lips, able to taste herself where he slides his tongue with her own. Without breaking the kiss, Lucien’s deft fingers work at the fastenings of Elain’s dress, tugging and untying until her dress is nothing but a puddle of fabric at their feet. The tearing of her bodice echoes in her ears before that too joins the discarded items. He only pulls back enough to tug his shirt off and toss it aside, and Elain has never been more grateful when he dives back in for her neck only because it allows her to simply stare.

Elain is surprised no one has painted Lucien before, that there aren’t statues of him cast in glowing marble. There should be. Hard cutting lines of lean muscle make up his chest and his arms, golden bronze skin on full display. Elain wants to dig her fingernails in and scrape down all those lines. Wants to lick all those lines. Especially the v-lines, like a tantalizing arrow leading beneath the waistband hanging low on his hips.

Lucien’s hands find her thighs again, and Elain lets out a squeal of surprise as her feet leave the ground, Lucien lifting her up with ease. She wraps her legs tightly around his waist, her arms scrabbling to curl around his shoulders. Lucien walks them over to his bed, depositing Elain against the soft blankets and pillows.

He wastes no time covering Elain’s body with his own, the heat and weight of him pressing her back against the mattress. His lips kiss and nip along her neck, traveling down across her collarbones until finding home at her now exposed breast. His tongue moves in those same delicious circles he used on her clit, swirling over her nipple until Elain is arching up against him with a choked moan. He switches to her other breast, laving the same attention, before he continues his path downward. Along her sternum. Down her stomach. Across her hip bones.

“Wait… shouldn’t we–um…” Elain trails off, not quite sure how to say it. It doesn’t help that Lucien’s lips keep distracting her. “Don’t you want me to do something… for you?”

“What makes you think this isn’t for me?” Lucien asks, spreading her thighs wide until she’s on full display for him. “Did you already forget when I said I dreamt of your cunt?”

“If you keep saying things like that, you’ll never beat the scoundrel allegations.”

“Who says I want to?”

Like a true scoundrel, Lucien smirks and dares to offer Elain a wink before he delves back in between her legs. He focuses his mouth’s attention on her clit this time, his hand coming up to join. He sinks one finger into her, the slow drag leaving Elain gasping. She’s still coming down from the previous orgasm, clenching and fluttering around that single digit, and when Lucien starts to move and curl that finger, she bucks up against him with a shout.

Lucien presses in a second finger beside the first, scissoring and curling them, as he builds up a steady pace. Elain’s head feels dizzy with pleasure, her hand reaching down to grip Lucien’s hair, tugging in time with each moan of his name that tumbles past her lips. She can already feel that heat building again, dangerously quickly. Lucien’s name feels like a chant heavy on her tongue. Or maybe it’s a prayer. Either way, there’s no warning to give this time before release yanks her hard over the edge.

Elain slumps back against the blankets, eyes closed and chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. She feels Lucien shift, feels him slide back up her body and settle over her. His nose slides up her neck, along her jaw to her ear.

“Alright, my love?”

Even with her eyes closed, Elain can imagine his smirk, can hear the smugness coloring his tone. “Don’t sound so proud of yourself.”

“Tired out already?” Lucien continues his teasing despite her warning.

With a huff, Elain opens her eyes just so Lucien can see her roll them. She curls her fingers around his shoulders, digging in and pushing until Lucien falls onto his back beside her. Before he can move, she slings a leg over his, settling astride his hips. She leans forward and pins his wrists above his head, her hair a tumbling golden curtain around both their faces.

“Does this look tired to you?” Elain challenges, raising an eyebrow.

Lucien’s smirk turns into a full blown grin, those golden and russet eyes sparking and burning. The sight is enough to have Elain’s thighs tightening around his hips, to have heat licking up her limbs despite the two releases she’s already had tonight. Lucien breaks the hold on his wrists easily, gripping her hips but not moving her. Like he enjoys having her exactly where she is.

“So feisty,” Lucien comments, his voice almost reverent. “Go on then, Elain. Take what you want.”

Elain settles back on her haunches, but suddenly, she finds herself feeling nervous, unsure. She’s certainly out of her element. She traces a finger teasingly along the waistband of his pants, relishing in the way Lucien breathes in sharply, the way his whole body seems to shudder beneath her touch. It makes her feel powerful, daring. She shifts her hand to press her palm against the hard length still tucked away, watching the future Duke groan and toss his head back.

“Not so talkative now,” Elain notes, moving her hand down before sliding it back up.

Lucien’s answering chuckle is breathless and strained. “And yet, I could have sworn it was you chanting my name mere minutes ago.”

“Perhaps I want you chanting my name.”

“Oh, you don’t even have to ask for that.”

He says the words with enough definitiveness, enough casual ease and without an ounce of doubt, that Elain can feel another blush threatening to spill across her cheeks again. She instead focuses on the laces of Lucien’s pants, a distraction for her hands. When she gets the fastenings loose enough, she tugs his length free, curling her fingers around it. It’s heavy and warm in her palm, and Elain just prays her surprise doesn’t show too much on her face.

She had some idea what to expect, had snuck some of Nesta’s romance books out of her eldest sister’s room, but seeing and feeling are completely different to words on a page, and she’s quite confident that Lucien is what many would consider large.

Steeling herself, she tests out moving her hand, noting what pace, what grip, gets the most reaction from the man splayed out beneath her. True to his word, Lucien starts to chant her name beneath his breath, a harmony to the groans Elain wrings from him. Spurred on by the reaction, Elain bows forward, tentatively licking at the liquid glistening on the head.

“Oh, fuck,” Lucien swears, fingers flexing hard enough against her hips, Elain thinks there may be bruises tomorrow. “If you keep that up, this will end before we’ve really started.”

“Then finish it.”

Lucien’s grin is practically feral, all teeth and burning gaze. Before Elain can even blink, his hands are sliding up to her ribcage, one of his legs kicking out to trap her own. He flips them over until Elain is flat on her back, blinking up at Lucien’s looming figure. Somewhere in the move, he’s fully kicked off his pants, strong thighs now fully on display where they’re cradled between her spread thighs.

“This may hurt,” Lucien offers, his voice surprisingly gentle despite the way he drags the head of his cock through the wetness pooled between her legs from her two releases already tonight.

“I know,” Elain tells him, and she does. She heard the way the lady maids spoke before they were dismissed, but this is what she wants. What she came here tonight for. So she lifts her legs and wraps them around Lucien’s waist, locking her ankles at the small of his back.

Lucien closes the distance between them, locking their lips again, just as he lifts her hips up slightly to a new angle. It’s clearly a distraction tactic, but there’s no distracting from the stretch as he sinks in inch by inch. It’s certainly a new and uncomfortable feeling, but it’s also addicting, pleasure cloying through Elain in a way she knows she’ll never get enough of.

She moans into Lucien’s mouth, toes curling against his back. She digs a hand in the red strands of his hair, clutching and tugging as that pleasure only grows, until Lucien is buried to the hilt, their hips pressed flush together.

“Fuck, if I died right now, I would be a lucky man,” Lucien groans, dropping his head into the crook of Elain’s neck. “Wrapped in your delicious, tight warmth.”

Elain can do nothing but whine high in the back of her throat. She clenches and flutters around him, hips rocking up in a desperate chase of friction.

“Do you like that, my love? Telling you what you do to me? Telling you how I’ll never get enough of your sweet cunt.”

Lucien pulls his hips back just to snap them back forward, building a steady rhythm as he sinks into Elain again and again. And again. She feels dizzy on the pleasure he coaxes from her body, each drive of his hips hard and deep, the drag of his cock dissolving her into a puddle of moans and choked off gasps. She slides her fingers down his back, nails biting against the skin, and tries to meet each thrust with a rock of her own hips.

“Gods, the way you squeeze around me is better than any dream,” Lucien continues, lips slipping against her skin. “You were made for me, weren’t you, Elain? Made to take my cock?”

“Yes,” Elain shouts, giving in to the heat pulling her under. “Yes. Don’t stop.”

Lucien’s hand sneaks between where their bodies are pressed together, reaching down to where they’re joined. His fingers find her swollen clit with ease, tracing tantalizing circles to match the snap of his hips. Elain feels powerless to the way he plays her body, to the fire racing through her veins and pooling low in her gut.

“That’s it, Elain. Come for me again. Come all over my cock.”

One more hard thrust, one more stroke of Lucien’s fingers against his clit, and Elain can do nothing but follow the request. With a shout of Lucien’s name, she arches up against him, clenching hard as an orgasm tears through her hard enough that tears prickle the corners of her eyes. She feels weightless, feels like she’s floating.

Lucien continues to rock his hips against hers, stretching out her release as he chases his own. His thrusts start to pick up in pace, start to become sloppy, and then he stills above her. He groans Elain’s name, warmth filling her where he’s buried deep.

Lucien all but collapses against her, and they lay there still joined as they catch their breath. Elain swears that she can hear his heartbeat, swears she can feel it matching the steady beat of her own where their chests are pressed together. She whimpers quietly when Lucien finally pulls back, sinking back against the blankets with a satiated sigh.

Her body feels wrung out in the best way. She’s half aware of the mattress shifting beneath her as Lucien clambers off the bed. Half aware of the sound of footsteps fading and then returning. Only when there’s pressure between her legs do Elain’s eyes fly open, peering down to find Lucien gently wiping a cloth against her.

“What are you doing?”

“A gentleman always takes care of his lady.”

Lucien sets the cloth aside, kneeling up onto the bed and over Elain. Fingers beneath her chin lift her lips to his. The kiss is gentle, sweet even, and Elain’s allows herself to sink into it even as her heart shatters and cracks in her chest at the gesture. She knows that she should leave, that now is the time to cut ties and walk away. But then Lucien is climbing back onto the bed, his arms curling around Elain’s waist and tugging her into him, and maybe… maybe she can allow herself just one more moment.

He pulls the blankets up and over their still naked bodies, arms holding Elain close. She rests her head on his chest, her ear over the song of his heartbeat. Lucien’s fingers trace patterns up and down her spine, curling a strand of her hair around his finger.

“Elain…” Lucien begins, turning his head so his lips brush against her forehead. “What I was trying to tell you before…”

“Later,” Elain dismisses, pressing a placating kiss to Lucien’s skin.

Lucien sighs softly, but his arms tighten around her. “Alright, my love. Rest and then we can speak.”

Elain nods her head, focusing on keeping her breathing even, on getting her body to relax. It’s not particularly hard with the weight of Lucien’s arm across her waist, the warmth his whole body seems to exude. Not hard with the safety and contentment wrapped up here in these blankets, in this room, with this man.

But it can’t last.

She counts in her head until Lucien’s own breathing evens out, clearly having fallen asleep, and then she counts fifty higher just to be safe. Slowly, she extricates herself from his grip, slipping off the bed carefully to avoid too much jostling. She snatches up her discarded dress and cloak and pulls them back on, running her fingers through her hair and hoping for the best without any sort of mirror. At least the sun has set and the darkness will help hide any dishevelment.

She tiptoes to the bedroom door and pulls it open, peeking outside to make sure there’s no one in the hall. She turns and looks back at Lucien’s sleeping form on the bed one last time, swallowing hard around the pain twisting and writing between her ribs, threatening to rise in her throat like bile. The heat of tears is a familiar prickle behind her eyes, but she pushes that down too, reminding herself that this is for the best. One final huff of determination and Elain steps out into the hall, the door closing behind her with firm finality.

—

Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @moodymelanist @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430 @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @lifeisntafantasy @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @emeriethevalkyriegirl @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @wolfnesta @blurredlamplight @hereforthenessian @skaixo @jmoonjones @burningsnowleopard @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @ofduskanddreams @rarephloxes @thelovelymadone @books-books-books4ever @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune @that-little-red-head @readergalaxy @thesnugglingduck @kale-theteaqueen @tarquindaddy @superflurry @bri-loves-sunflowers @lady-winter-sunrise

#elucien #sjmromanceweek #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien fic #elain x lucien #acotar #my fic

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f1blrcreatorsfest · 1 year ago

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fest credits & acknowledgements;

an author’s note by yours truly, ames ivettel <3

"oh, wow..." was pretty much all i could say as i scrolled through the f1blrcreatorsfest23 tag on the evening of august 1st. i was in a hotel room with some of my best friends in the world, all of us piled on a single bed, my laptop balanced precariously in the air as i passed around tumblr posts like a blunt, and already, i was floored by the initial response to the fest. little did i know that my mind would continue to be blown.

not to ruin the illusion, but going into the month, i was so stressed and scared that things wouldn’t happen—literally, the day the festival launched, we were still doing prep work. fio and i had committed to a morning of Getting Life Shit Done, and while she did more important stuff, i was on after effects finishing up the launch post and rushing through the caption (and bothering her ��). i hit post and went to touch grass, already kind of having given up on things going smoothly… and i came back to the best chaos i’ve ever seen, along with the feeling that i was completely out of my depth.

honestly, if i’d run this behemoth of an event completely by myself, i’m sure it would have flopped early. not for lack of trying, mind, but simply because running a community festival is a team game at heart; you need input from others if you want to make something big for others!

so, with that said, i’d love to give credit where credit is due. i hope you’ll join me in giving a standing ovation to these stellar individuals!

first and foremost, a massive shoutout to barbi @brawn-gp for kickstarting the idea in the first place: a racing sideblog that prompts community challenges for motorsportblr. the very foundation this fest is laid on is because of you! thank you also for running the queue for most of the month and being so meticulous with the tagging system—our blog would not be here without you!

next, thank you to kyle @princemick and riel @azrphales for your work doing posters and being active members of the exec team! as i tried to chase people down to vote on big decisions, your quick input was a sigh of relief—a sign that others wanted this fest to happen just as badly. your promo work was literally invaluable in getting this to take off and stay strong. thank you both for your work post-launch (additional planning + sideblog modding)! a special thank you to kyle for being so active in the discord server and supporting our participants, also for participating so much in the fest itself <3

another big thank you to garnet @garnetaldebaran! your suggestions were incredibly insightful and thoughtful while trying to create the fest’s schedule and events. you really came through with the organization of our first sprint, which proved so helpful when organizing the second and third. and the creations you made for the fest on top of it all? absolutely gorgeous!

to nico @userscuderia and fio @maranello, thank you for lighting the inspirational fire we needed to get ideas flowing on what we could do in addition to weekly themes! the very concept of our sprint challenges, our silly f1-themed guidelines, and our motivation for most of july are thanks to you!

finally: nami @boyfrombarbados, emma @dannysricciardo, and ginevra @leclerqued, thanks for rolling with the changes to the video editing server / joining the pitwall on the fly! your comments were great and helped us define how we wanted to shape our fest identity.

i set out, initially, to try and change the culture around f1blr—to show noncreators that there is so much talent that exists in the fanbase, and that to keep us going, pretty much all we ask for are reblogs. maybe even a nice comment or two! it’s been made pretty clear, however, that the lack of interaction and interest in supporting creators stretches far, far beyond our reach.

that said, not all hope is lost! if this fest has done anything, i think it’s encouraged people to try new things artistically and really push the boundaries of what it means to make a #f1edit. at the end of the day, isn’t that what this is all about? being on the side of art, encouraging creation, fostering support? if we can continue to push ourselves—and really enjoy the act of creating—doesn’t our spirit count for anything?

so i’ll sign off on this by saying one last thing: stay passionate about the beauty you give to the world. it matters, regardless of the notes, the likes, and the comments; it matters, and most of all, you matter.

thank you, everyone! a gold star for each of you ⭐️

-xo ames

#f1blrcreatorsfest23

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shipsgaysfordays · 2 years ago

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7, 10 and 17 for the fanfic ask game?

(the plot of the first fanfic you've ever written, coming up with titles, favourite line you've ever written?)

Thank you so much for asking<3

7 is a difficult one for me, what I think is arguably the first fanfiction that I remember writing is something that I honestly do what to anonymously post someday because it’s one of the few long works that I’ve completed. Without giving too much away, it was a musical script (all the songs are shitty lyrics with no chords because I don’t really do music well) and it was very much a dark comedy. I was inspired by this idea my best friend had had in creative writing club, and so my idea was kind of a sequel set in the same world as her’s. I’m unsure if it’s fanfic simply because there’s not very much basis on like a fandom or things like that, it’s more random popular characters, but I had a lot of fun with it.

Arguably the first true fanfic that I did was some small thing I wrote on here for wolfstar, or if you count twitter roleplay then I did do that for a few months in 2021 in a fandom I choose not to name.

10 depends, a lot of what I’ve done lately have been responses to those wolfstarmicrofic prompts so the titles aren’t too difficult since I can simply title it the same as the prompt (my favorite title I ever did is when I wanted to do the same prompt twice and decided to title the second “Reasonable 2: Electric Boogaloo”). Titles not based on prompts mainly just come from the dark recesses of my mind, I normally come up with titles soon before posting it, but there has been one WIP that I’ve been making that is explicitly based on a title because I was texting with my friend and she wrote something wrong and it was far too funny for me to not do something with it.

17, oh I have a really hard time narrowing that down, I think I like my work better whenever I’m able to write comedic, like I write so much dramatic angsty shit but more often that’s venting (though there’s actually 1 fic that I wrote that may look like venting but surprisingly is not) and I feel like whenever I do comedy it could possibly make people smile (if the jokes land, honestly I wouldn’t know if they do of course)

Anyways, some of my favorite lines:

Remus’ eyes widened. No, no, no, no. They couldn’t have. Chocolate is sacred to him. “PADFOOT WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO THE CHOCOLATE???”

“Look, look, look, look,” Sirius held their hands out in front of them, “It’s okay Moony, I wouldn’t do anything more than good fun. You’re gonna laugh, I know it.”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU–”his shouted was interrupted by laughter, his own uncontrollable laughter. That bastard.

(Olive Branch)

Love isn’t known for being reasonable, or at least that’s what books seem to indicate. But fiction is fiction and the real world has more rules. Society and all that.

(Reasonable 2: Electric Boogalo)

“Can I ask you another question?”

“No, this question is already one too many, you’ve filled your quota for today good sir and I will need some compensation for this,” Sirius smirked.

(Painting On Your Crush Can Be A Bit Awkward)

As Remus continued silently fuming at a poster, Sirius coughed for a second and finally spoke again, “Sooooo Moony…are you having a staring contest……with a poster…of the moon? Don’t blink now, I think you might just crack him. YES, the moon blinked, YOU WON, MY CHAMPION, MY HERO! Siriously though love, can you look at me please?”

(Moons All Around Him)

#ask game #finally answering this after a few hours #sorry i had work

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eulangelo · 3 years ago

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callout for @genderfluidlucifer

google docs

tw for transmisogyny + TERFs + emotional manipulation

Transmisogyny

Lucifer is a huge transmisogynist who will complain 24/7 about how TERFs hurt the ace community, but the moment @randomclustermissile , a trans girl (who is not an exclusionist at all) tries to point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles (in the most vague and general way possible, without pointing fingers nor calling anyone names) Lucifer will immediatly jump to block her and so they did with me (another inclusionist) and i have to suppose to everyone else who agreed with that post, even arriving to vagueing about us in private group chats to suggest that we were “sympathizing with exclusionists”. all because we dared point out transmisogyny in inclusionist circles. lucifer is TME but apparently they think they’re the authority on TERFs and their talking points but actual trans women are not, according to them, since this is the stuff that they would go and spew to other people. (screenshots from @enbyoctoling)

here’s more examples of Lucifer (again, a transmasc person) going deep in detail about how according to them, TERFs/SWERFs hate aro/ace people and are an active threat to us

1. link

[Image ID: Three screenshots of a post by Genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot is of a paragraph that reads, "Hey. So I can actually answer this. Anon your commentary about how you thought terfs would approve of sex repulsed aces is sort of it. Except...not. Basically terfs hate ace people for not wanting sex in the approved by terfs way. Terfs are actually extremely interested in [forcing] amatonormativity onto everyone. Because for as sex negative as terfs are...they don't want to actually acknowledge or change the fact that amatonormativity is at the root cause of rape culture and misogyny."

The second screenshot is a zoomed in section of the post that reads, "So yeah no I have NO idea where exclus allies are getting this idea from that terfs would even remotely care about the sexual rights of ace people. Terfs generally hate any sexualities in the LGBTQ+ acronym that aren't LGB because they can't force a gender binary onto those sexualities. At least, not as easily. That's why it's actually a massive sign of someone who doesn't call themselves a terf being a crypto terf if they use the term LGB in a positive manner. Along with the term SGA, as it is deliberately exclusive of nonbinary and not inherently SGA centric queer-aligned sexualities. /END ID]

link to the full post, these are just excerpts but the whole thing is just a very long rant about how TERFs hate ace people and so on (i think it’s worth noticing that although the actual post is kinda long, trans women are never once brought op in a conversation about TERFs issues and the only time transmisogyny is mentioned is not relevant to the conversation)

2. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is nothorses. It reads, "Because apparently I have to say it: Testosterone is not a 'violent' hormone. It doesn't make you 'more aggressive' or a worse person, it doesn't make you 'dangerous,' or 'toxic.' Transmascs do not need to be 'warned of the dangers of T.' We do not need to spend our transitions terrified that we're going to become a danger to those around us - that HRT is going to turn us into a monster.

Everyone experiences mood swings during hormonal shifts (pregnancy, menstruation, menopause, estrogen HRT, etc.) and while you might have grumpy moments or feel anger/frustration that you need to learn to handle differently, that doesn't make you a bad person.

Testosterone can change the way you access/process emotions somewhat, but if you're already thoughtful about how you handle your feelings and treat others, you're going to be fine. It's normal to lash out on occasion, by accident, then apologize and work to do better. It doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone on HRT is prone to this, and everyone experiencing hormonal changes is prone to this.

Getting HRT should be positive and affirming; you should not have to spend your entire transition terrified of becoming a monster."

The post then has a reblog by captainlordauditor that reads, "The big danger of T is that needle ouchy." /END ID]

here’s them reblogging from known transmisogynist user @nothorses (once again, the irony that a post about how testosterone is seen as the "aggressive hormone" does not mention transfem at all which are literally the main victims of this rethoric in the first place)

3. link (1), link (2)

[Image ID: Two screenshots of posts by genderfluidlucifer. The first screenshot reads, "Queer exclus: We're not repackaging terf rhetoric! Saying that is transmisogynistic! Also queer exclus: Remove the plus from LGBT!" and has tags that say, "I will pay these people to grow some god damn self awareness. Imagine being this dense. Queer discourse." The post has 15 notes.

The second screenshot reads, "Honestly it is so stupid and frustrating to see ace exclus continue to deny that the ace discourse was started by terfs. Proof was given countless times. And a big name terf like galesofnovember even admitted to starting it. Those of you who demand proof but ignore all of this never wanted proof to begin with." and is tagged with, "ace discourse. The post has 38 notes. /END ID]

heres another two post of theirs conflating TERFs with ace exclusionism

4. link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblogged post by furbearingbrick. The original poster is boxlizard, Lucifer's old account. The original post reads, "By the way for people still in denial about it, here's galesofnovember, a terf, admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement. She's taking credit for it. Normally if the victims of this behavior weren't ace/aro or other queer identities y'all be ready to rightfully lynch her. But since it's us, y'all just still wanna stamp your feet and go, 'Nuh uh!' instead of acknowledging facts." The part that says, "admitting that she intended to start the ace exclus movement" is a link to a galesofnovember post.

There is then a reblogged addition from furbearing brick that reads, "archived versions of the receipts" and has two links to the webarchive. The tags read, "Bringing this back since it's apparently still relevant. Terfism mention. Aphobia mention. Queerphobia mention. Blocklist." and has 1,455 notes. /END ID]

this is their post that ive already talked about but basically they found a 52 notes post made by a TERF in 2012 and this one person said "i dont know why i dont get to be the princess of the anti-ace-brigade" and apparently they are convinced that this means TERFs started the ace exclusionism movement and that this is one of their goals. which is insane when TERFs in real life only care about making life miserable for transfem people first and foremost.

5.link

[Image ID: A screenshot of a reblog by genderfluidlucifer. The original poster is yu-gay-fudo. It reads, “Just in case you happen to be unaware, some of the “radfem lite” they post to warm you up to their rhetoric, just off the top of my head:

- Ace/aro exclusionism

- Bi exclusionism or claims that bi people are “less queer” bc of “straight passive privilege”

- Saying you have to be dysphoric to identify as transInvalidating nonbinary people

- Calling queer a slur regardless of context, saying people can’t identify as queer, and saying that it can’t be reclaimed

- “Mogai hell”, “kweer”, or otherwise mocking less common labels and claiming they are “just cishets who want to feel special”

- Excluding sex workers from feminist discussions or claiming that sex work is inherently evil

- Basically anyone who thinks they can determine what other people identify as”. The tags read, "queerphobia tw. twerfs tw. no id." and has 70,727 notes. It was reblogged on March 22nd, 2021 /END ID]

another example of conflating radfems to things that, while wrong, have little to nothing to do with them because being a radfem, again, is something very specific that has all to do with transfem oppression.

Emotional manipulation

Lucifer has done nothing but block, break boundaries, spread lies and vague about people, some of which were even mutuals with them knowing they would see the posts. when confronted about it Lucifer's only answer was "just say you hate me and block me" but they actually ended up blocking everyone first, making it impossible for anyone to set some boundaries with them or even just to calmly confront them about anything.

[proof: Io(popncourse) and Lucifer had a disagreement in a shared discord server, which prompted Lucifer to vague Io in a vent post. Io confronted them, as being vagued is one of buns triggers, to which Lucifer initially agreed to delete the vent post, but then proceeded to victimize themself and immediatly blocked Io. later on, Jude(malewifedeckard) was confronted by Lucifer, then after Jude told them “I’m worried that you’ll vague me just like you did with Io” they proceeded to block Jude and vagued about him too. when Io made a post (which was not a callout, it was just bun setting buns boundaries) explaining what Lucifer did, Lucifer immediatly jumped to victimize themself, acting like they were being called out and straight-up lying, even going so far as to say that no one tried to hear them out, which is a blatant lie if you consider the aforementioned Io and Jude’s attempts at doing so, with Lucifer immediatly blocking and cutting ties with the both of them. ]

(screenshots taken by @popncourse and @malewifedeckard)

as seen in the proof above Lucifer’s behaviour is not ok because they don’t accept any kind of confrontation and immediatly jump to blocking, and after blocking, they'd immediatly go and vague about the people who confronted them pacificly, spreading more lies and painting themself as the victim and even arriving to say “no one hears me out at all” which is simply not something you can say when you block people who are trying to hear you out in the first place.

this is by no means an invitation to go and harass them, send them hate or anything like that. i absolutely don’t want anything even remotely hateful or negative to be sent their way after this post.

this post was only made because:

1. as an ace person who fully supports the inclusion of aspec identities in the lgbt+ community i don’t want to support an enviroment that costantly downplays transmisogynistic oppression in order to be taken seriously. there are hundreds of ways to make aspec activism without acting like we(as in TME aspecs)are the victims of a system that seeks for the annihilation of transfemenine people in real life everyday. i especially don’t want to support TME individuals who act transfem-friendly but then block any transfem who tries to speak on transmisogyny without a second thought.

2. Lucifer’s behaviour has hurt two friends of mine and i don’t want to associate with someone who actively breaks people’s boundaries without taking accountability when messing up.

3. i cannot associate with someone who spreads lies about me accusing me of sympathizing with exclusionists all while having me blocked so that i can’t see it nor defend me. they complain about people not hearing them out but they’re the very first person who does not try to hear people out, and instead jumps to spread baseless rumors. this is not someone i can nor want to associate with.

(image descriptions provided by @malewifedeckard)

#genderfluidlucifer #transmisogyny tw #terfs tw #ask to tag #txt #long post #ok to rb

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meetmyevilways · 3 years ago

Text

All your desires

Poe x Reader (Sith/FO!reader)

The prompts are taken from @the-purity-pen's List.

Kinktober Masterlist

Prompt: 6. Food play || Rimming/Analingus || Deep throating

Plot: You try to convince Poe to join you on the Dark Side...

Warnings: at the end, so not to spoil the fun, you can search for it with ctrl/cmd+f or scroll down at the bottom of the post

***

You set a trap for the Resistance's poster boy, you've seen in a vision a few months ago what you could achieve together and you wanted that power, yearned for it and you craved him too ever since your first meeting. He had you at his mercy then, he shot down your ship but he spared your life and let you go.

You wanted Poe Dameron and the dreams that connected you at night told you that he wanted you too. It was just a matter of the right time and the right words.

He was strapped in that kind of chair which he suffered in when Ren ripped through his mind. The memory that haunted him would be of use to you if you turned his terrible expectations about what's to come with tender care. You were planning this for a while and you will not fail, but however manipulative you can be you don't want to force him, it has to be his decision, you'll just provide the temptation.

When you step in the room you see that he's been hurt and you order punishment for anyone that raised a hand on him. As the door closes behind you, raising your hands you unlock his restrains with a flick of your wrist and motion for the chair to move before him.

He moves tentatively and sits, never taking his eyes off you. Poe squares his jaw then speaks for the first time in hours. "What do you want?"

"You." The answer is simple and delivered with an almost smile.

"That's it?" He laughs, trying to joke about it because he has no idea how to handle the situation.

"You called to me." He waits for you to elaborate but you say nothing else like it's all the explanation he should need.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He yells at you and stands, starting to pace unsteadily at the furthest corner of the room.

"In your dreams." These three whispered words make his heart skip a beat and he turns to you slowly with wide eyes.

"You violated my dreams?!" The accusation is no more than a hiss and it makes you boil with anger which can be heard in your answer.

"I did nothing. I am not a mind raper but I will not hold back my anger if you continue to insult me. You forget that I'm the reason the troopers will not touch you, I'm the only one standing between you and Ren who is demanding your mind to be broken."

"Yes, you are a saint." He hisses at you again.

"I am not a good person, I'd never deny that but I like to think I'm fairly reasonable. Most of the time at least." The mischievous glint and the almost-smile return as you try to calm him down.

"If you weren't intruding on my dreams then how...? He doesn't finish, he can't bring himself to. He blushes though, thinking about all those nights he woke up from those far too real dreams he had of you.

"I told you. You called to me. And I was helpless to resist. The control was always yours, you bound us together." There is a little accusation coming from you now but he ignores it because what you are saying is impossible.

"What are you talking about? How could I do this? I'm no Jedi!" He lets out his frustration on you again but you don't take it personally this time, just gently explain it to him.

"Do you really think what you can do is ordinary talent? Your luck of always getting away miraculously is nothing but coincidence?" Raising an eyebrow at him to indicate the answer even more than your tone did.

He cannot find the words, he tries to speak several times but the words just don't come out. Poe collapses on the chair and buries his face in his hands. You move to kneel before him and make him look at you as you take his hands in yours.

"Join me! Rule with me! I'll show you just how strong you are. We will rule the galaxy together. I'll give you anything you want, all you have to do is ask." Tempting him should be more subtle, you know. It would take more time than this but you are running out of it because Snoke must have sensed something and that's why the Knights are on their way here.

"You're lying. That is impossible. This is a trick, I know. You are the fucking evil incarnate." He denies vehemently but you won't back down this easy.

"That's not what you said last night." You actually smile at him this time, well it's more like a smirk but it captivates him all the same.

His panic is gone in an instant and he teases you in his answer by turning his offending words into a joke. "You are evil."

You cup his cheek and kiss him deeply for the first time that's not really the first time. He tastes just like he did in the dreams and he moans like he did every night since you've met. You break away to tell him the truth that hopefully will tip the balance at your side.

"Your princess-general knows what's inside you. It is hard to ignore, only the blind can't see." He interrupts you with a valid point.

"Ren saw nothing." Your clever pilot is always looking for any last hope to cling onto but you have to destroy his faith in the woman who became his second mother in order to win.

"He is blind. Blinded by his anger and petty issues." You say with disgust clear on your face before you lock your gaze with him again and go on. "You shine stronger than the brightest sun, together we can do anything. You want Ren dead? You want the war to end? You want peace? All you have to do is say so. I'll make all your desires come true." You almost have him, you can see it but doubt about Leia is not enough, you have to destroy that bond so he can let her go.

"Leia would have told me. She is teaching Rey..." You can't hide the anger at the mention of the two.

"They both knew and kept you in the dark. The general cares for you like a son and she already lost one to the force, she wouldn't risk it again. It was selfish of her, more than you realise." Your anger starts to consume you and you cannot stop this quiet tirade about her, your hate for her had grown each day since you realised all these. " You have the power to end it all. No more fighting, no more fear or death. She not only held you back but prolonged the war by not being able to kill one monster of a son and failing at an angel of her other boy."

"I'm not an angel." He scoffs which makes you smirk again.

"Hmm, don't I know?" You dare to place a peck on his lips and you continue as your lips graze his while you speak. "But you are sooo good." He groans and grabs you to smash your lips together as he devours you in a deep kiss before he abruptly pulls away.

"You want to corrupt me, turn me into a thing like Ren." You don't know why the accusing comes back again but you frown as you start to give him the last information he needs.

"I don't, I couldn't even if I wanted to, you haven't got a single dark bone in your beautiful body, my angel." You say, biting your lip and showing vulnerability.

"And do you have a single spark of light in you or you're all darkness? How could I trust you?" He voices his remaining doubts which you answer eagerly.

"I am darkness, my light. But that doesn't mean I'm evil. It's all about balance and that's what none of them understood. Not the Jedi, not the Sith and certainly not those who remained after them. Most people have both in themselves and they fight half of their nature all their life. But some, like us, are the pure embodiment of an element and we are drawn to our opposites until we are united and that's the only way I would ever be able to find the balance I yearn for." You are not sure you are explaining it well, you don't want to reveal too much and scare him away.

"Then it's not a choice. You are really helpless to resist this." He concludes sadly. But you will not have that sadness dim his light ever again, so you guide his gaze back to yours.

"There is always a choice and I would choose you always. What is your decision?" You ask softly, hoping it's in your favour, but it seems this wasn't enough to convince him yet.

"What happens if I say no?" He tests you quietly one last time before he gives in.

"I'll let you go." You say sadly, looking down, holding back tears. He knows you are not lying to him, you never had. He nods to himself, deciding he cannot live with the consequences of abandoning you. This time he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

"You don't have to. I'm yours." His conviction forces the tears out and you grab him more fiercely as you seal your bond with a kiss.

***

The Knights are almost there and you don't want to face them until Poe is ready but you can't help to treat him a little before you leave. You settle back on your knees and palm him through his clothes.

"What are you doing?" He asks before his breath hitches.

"Giving you some good memories of this place before we leave." With that, you undo his pants and stroke him until he is fully hardened. His moans and groans are music to your ears. Smiling deviously, kiss the tip of his leaking cock and he throws his head back. You are delighted with his responses and continue to tease the head of his length with your tongue for a few seconds before you switch to sucking on him.

You take more and more of his length, hollowing your cheeks as you brace yourself on his leg before pushing down until you've taken all of him. His hips raise at the feeling of having him deep down your throat and he struggles to keep his eyes open because he doesn't want to miss a second of it.

Feeling him pulse on your tongue you cannot help but torture him a little by swallowing around him, which almost makes him come right then and there. He squeezes your nape as a warning but when he tries to move his hand away you take it and guide it back to tangle into your hair. He understands what you are saying and he does as you ask. Guiding your movements, he fucks your throat and takes his pleasure.

His grip on you moves you, making you bob your head up and down on him and he raises his hips to slam into you deeply each time he starts to guide your head downwards.

Poe pulls you flush against him, your nose touching his pelvis and he stands up like that. You cling onto the back of his thigh and brush upwards until you grab his ass and grind him to you impossibly closer and you keep swallowing around him again.

He takes hold of your head with both hands and fucks your throat with deep, hard thrusts. You moan around him and he knows he can't take much more. You feel him get sloppy in his snaps and it's not much later that he slams as deep inside you as he can, holding you in place while you take all of his cum. You keep swallowing to get it down and help him through his orgasm.

Poe pulls away slowly while he is still pulsing on your tongue and before he can get out of your mouth completely, you halt his movements with your grip on his ass and suck at him hard making him whine as he feels his balls jolt again and you take a few more spurts of cum in your mouth.

He rips away from you, unable to take the overstimulation and looks at you licking your lips and biting your lower lip as you look at him with a smug expression.

"Wicked woman." He huffs out a tired laugh as he gets his clothes sorted. You step closer to him and help, laughing at his trembling hands.

"We have to go." You take his hand and move to the door but he stops you, confused.

"Where?" Your poor disoriented angel asks.

"You have a lot to learn and we don't have much time. We need a safe place. Dathomir will do." You press a lingering kiss on his lips and guide him to your ship.

***

Warnings: abduction, allusions of sex dreams, angst (like a lot), oral (male receiving), cum eating

#kinktober #kinktober 2021 #tppkinktober2021 #poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe x you #poe dameron x you #dark!fic #dark fic

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tokisguitarpick · 4 years ago

Text

drunken skunk

Characters: Toki Wartooth x Reader

Words: 2500+ holy FUCK

A/N: hey i written in uhh 1000 years and i just binged metalocolypse on hbomax which apparently unlocked something in me. this fic takes place immediately following fertilityklok because I’ve had a weird amount of experience talking to men who want but for some reason can’t/don’t have children and watching Toki worry about it gave me feelings i just wanted someone to kiss him and tell him he was okay:( so he turned down the woman in the ep, went home and fucked, wakes up and doesn’t actually feel that much better so drinking, smoking, not being understood by his bandmates, leads to going somewhere else to drink, and that’s where we are. i also like the idea that the band members have slutted around so often that even blitz drunk, they’d still be quick and nimble in the sack

“Y/N, can you come to my office, please?” Charles’s voice came through your cell phone.

You had the phone pressed to your cheek, despite the spikes digging into your shoulder, as you pulled on a pair of socks. When you saw Charles calling you, it was almost always to request you come to his office for a task so it was second nature to get dressed when his name popped up. “Of course, sir.” His thanks were short before the line clicked off and you were left alone to finish getting ready.

_________

Scooting past a masked employees leaving Charles’s office, you stood in front of your boss and nodded when he met your eye over the documents on his desk. “Y/N, thank you for coming. We’ve got a small situation I’m hoping we can keep small.” Your brow furrowed as he picked up his phone and start swiping through it.

“What’s the matter, sir?” you asked.

Charles held up a finger, continuing to swipe until he finally clicked a button and a whaling voice suddenly filled the room.

“Whys is this happening to mes, iS AMS I UGLIES?! Ams I- Ma’am, MA’AMS, AMS I UGLI-“

The silence that followed Charles pausing the recording was deafening. “Um, was that-“

“Toki, yes,” Charles cut you off. “He’s currently at the Drunken Skunk and is living up to the name. I need you to go collect him as discreetly as possible.” As though that was all the information you needed, Charles began looking over the paperwork in front of him again.

You sighed quietly, you hated how little you got told about your tasks since they always spiraled into some kind of crazy mess when the members of Dethklok were involved, but Charles wasn’t one to question. “Yes, sir. Consider it done.”

You turned on your heel and began to head out but when your hand touched the doorknob, Charles spoke again. “Oh, and Y/N? Be careful. Toki has been sensitive since his birthday. Tread carefully.”

Brow furrowed again, you glanced back but Charles was already looking away, eyes on his documents. You wondered what he meant but as always, better not to question him. Stepping into the hallway, you let his office door swing shut behind you as you headed into the night.

___________

The Drunken Skunk was a dingy little bar on the edge of downtown whose usual crowd were streetwalkers and weary men, so it wasn’t crazy that Toki had decided to come here but as you drove closer and closer, you were surprised how dingy it in fact was. It was cheek to cheek with the industrial district, had an empty printing shop on one side, and a storefront covered in plywood on the other. You parked in front of the boarded-up shop and did a quick check on all sides for sketchy characters before you stepped out of the car.

The bar was choked with cigarette smoke, and the stench of stale alcohol and vomit. You frowned, standing in the door while you scanned the dirty room until your eyes fell on a heaving form slumped across the bar. Toki.

His long hair was draped over his shoulders and hung down his back, quivering slightly with each heave. It seemed like he was crying, his head buried in his arms. “AMS I UGLIES?” rang in your ears again and your frown softened. You weren’t sure what had happened, but you had noticed he’d been… off since his birthday.

You had thought it was related to the fake kidnapping that kicked off the party- a horrific and idiotic idea you had spoken out against and were immediately told by Nathan not to be a bitch about- but even that wouldn’t lead to the question of if he was ugly. Would it? The Dethklok members were strange. Five lives full of tragedy and unprocessed trauma all packed into the most popular band in the world made for an uneasy balance in the workplace and living quarters. You were skilled at navigating it when you had to clear up the messes, but you were hardly ever around for the inciting event so it was always tricky to understand how it all connected.

You approached cautiously and made sure to make a little noise so you wouldn’t spook him. If he heard you, he showed no reaction, so you perched on the bar stool beside him. “Hey, Toki?”

The guitarist lifted his head finally and his red rimmed eyes were bleary when they met yours. “Y/N? Whats is *hic* you doings heres?” His voice was hoarse and thick with tears, a few of which were clinging to his eyelashes and glittered in the dim light. It made his grey-blue eyes shine and your breath caught in your throat. You had to admit, Toki was your favorite member of the band and it had little to do with his musical talent. You weren’t one for metal much anyway.

What drew you to Toki was first his appearance. Back when you were just applying for a position at the record company behind Dethklok, he’d caught your eye on the poster in the lobby. Long hair on men was something of a turn-on and his piercing gaze struck a chord inside you. His angular face and extremely fit build made him one of the hottest members in your opinion but on top of all of that, he was a sweetheart. That wasn’t written on the poster, of course, it was something you’d discovered about a week after you started when he was the only person besides Charles to take the time to learn your name and point your in the right direction. You wouldn’t say you were close but you had a causal friendship, just right for making light conversation during elevator rides and not much else.

“I’m here for you, Toki,” you replied, trying to master a tone that was both soft and cheery. “I came to take you home.”

“Takes me… No! I wants to stay heres. I-I-” His bottom lip started to quiver as he spoke but you put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, relax, Toki. It’s just late and I think it’d be good for us to get you into bed,” you gave him a small smile, trying to coax his drunken mind into listening to you. He might be slim but if he tried to fight you on leaving, you’d have your hands full. Maybe you should’ve asked for an escort…

Toki slumped on the bar again with a huff before sliding off his stool towards you, prompting you to hop up quickly to catch him as he stumbled to his feet. He was heavy with alcohol and leaning on you to keep steady, so trudging to the door became a task. Despite having at least half a foot on you, his face was nestling further and further in your hair until you could feel his breath on the back of your neck.

You could feel your cheeks warming but it wasn’t until you got out the door, opened the back of the car, and loaded Toki halfway in that you really had a reason to blush.

“Y/N, ams I uglies?” Toki asked suddenly, looking up at you from under his lashes. He only had his butt on the edge of the car’s bench seat, looking at you with his face inches from yours, and fresh tears welling in his eyes.

Your eyes widened and your blush raged in full. Working around the object of your affection, even when that work was dragging him out of a shitty bar, was easy enough. Being asked directly about it by him was a whole other thing. Swallowing against the sudden knot in your throat, you decided to be honest and lightly shook your head. “No, Toki, not at-“

Anything and everything else you might be about to say was thrown out the window because the moment you said no, Toki launched forward. One hand on your hip, he lifted the other to your shoulder and pulled you to him lightening fast, his mouth finding yours with a squish. In his drunken state, he was a little sloppy at first but his skill began to show itself. His tongue traced the dip between your lips as he pulled you against his chest, your head fogging when he nipped your bottom lip. It was finally enough to coax your mouth open and Toki took full advantage of that fact, squeezing your hip as his other hand, warm and calloused, slipped around your neck and held you to him. Electricity jumped through you when his tongue met yours, twirling together for a moment before he moved on to exploring your mouth with a greedy moan.

“Wa-wait,” you mumbled around his lips. This was moving too fast, or maybe the fact it was happening at all was what was making you feel overwhelmed in the moment. It took everything in you to pull away, a solid percentage of your mind screaming at you to continue, to let Toki think he had control of the situation and see how far you could get with him. But you couldn’t. He was drunk and clearly something was bothering him enough to drink in the first place. You needed to just get him home. Plus if you did anything with Toki, you’d like for him to remember it, too. “Toki, wait.”

Your eyes met his just in time to watch his face crumple. The only way to describe his expression was pure heartbreak. The disappearance of his hands on your body made you miss the weight of them instantly but you hardly noticed, watching him melt right in front of you.

“I ams uglies, I knews it! I knews it!” Desperate and broken, his voice turned your stomach. His shaky hands found his hair and he began tugging on the ends, seemingly unaware of the motion. “No ones will loves me, I’ms hideous, I wills never find love! I wills never finds the mother ofs my childrens!”

While you had been paralyzed with bewilderment, his last sentence only compounded your confusion but brought you back into the moment enough to move again. Toki had cringed away from you, burying his face in the back of the passenger seat while still tugging on his hair, and you hurriedly heaved his long legs into the footwell before shutting the door and jogging around to the other side.

Even sealed in the car, you could hear his drunken crying. It twisted your heart but still, the mother of his children? Is that what he thought of you? Your blush burned your cheeks once more but you shook the thought off. He must’ve been crying about this when he left that voicemail for Charles. But what had happened?

Opening the back door on the other side, you slipped inside and snapped the door closed behind you. Toki seemed worse than before, now holding his face in his hands and heaving with small sobs. “Whats is it, Y/N? Whats makes me so uglies? I can change! I has monies, I can change!”

You furrowed your brows and put a hand on his arm, scooting closer to him. “Toki, you’re not ugly.” Quicker than you expected, his head snapped towards you.

“Then whys do you not likes to kiss me?” His lip started to quiver and you expected another outburst but his eyes stayed locked on you, expecting an answer.

Your mouth was dry and you scrambled for an answer that would keep him from crying again. How had you ended up here? Eyes darting around the car, you quickly mumbled, “I do, I liked the kiss! I jus-“

Once again, the Dethklok guitarist moved faster than you thought in his state. His hands found your face and pulled you up to him, putting you nose to nose with the lanky musician. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red from tears but it only exacerbated how bright his stormy irises were. You felt nervous and excited and tingly all over from being held so close and you hardly dared to breathe. Hypnotized by his gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. “Thens kiss me,” he murmured in a throaty voice. It made you shiver and lust began to haze your thoughts, the previous kiss still so fresh in your mind when his lips found yours again.

Slowly this time- painfully, delightfully slowly- Toki kissed you. His hands nearly covered the sides of your head as he held you in place, his lips closed while he kissed you once, twice, three times before deepening it. You let him without hesitation, heat coiling in your stomach. Of course, the thought of breaking the kiss occurred to you but with every motion of his, that thought got further and further away. Toki’s tongue slipped past your lips again and he gently stroked over yours as he made his way around your mouth. You returned the kiss with fervor, trying to match his speed to keep him close as long as possible.

One hand on top of his over your cheek, you let your other wander. His knee pressing into your thigh, then up the outside of his leg to rest on his hip and give it a squeeze. He moaned in your mouth and your body responded in kind, your own moan escaping as the heat in your belly moved south. When his free hand fisted in your hair and tugged, you wondered if maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Toki didn’t remember your hookup. Hell, maybe it would keep things from getting awkward at work?

Skwisgaar’s best guitar solo blared through the vehicle, interrupting your mental plan to get the man in front of you undressed. It was your phone, ringing out from your back pocket, and you knew without looking that it was Charles. He tended to check status on the jobs he gave people, especially when they went alone, as the Dethklok members seemed to have a way of making mountains out of molehills and then exploding the mountain into a bunch of fiery chunks raining from the sky.

Toki hadn’t stopped kissing you. If anything, he seemed more desperate, his hands falling to your shoulders and tugging at your shirt. But you straightened up and caught his large wrists to still him. Pulling away, your lips tingled and you had to blink a few times to gather yourself. “I have to get that, hang on.” Your voice was hoarse and you cleared it twice as you pulled the phone from your pocket and selected ‘Answer’. Toki huffed but he seemed much more relaxed compared to the last interruption, leaning back against the seat and putting his large hand on your thigh with his eyes closed.

“Hello?” you asked, still trying to steady your voice.

“Y/N, any updates?” Charles bluntly asked back.

You cleared your throat again and replied, “Everything’s going well, I just got Toki in the car,” the guitarist squeezed your leg at the sound of his name, “and we’re about to head back home.” The thought of leaving the back seat, of having to drive with the fruity taste of whatever he’d been drinking still on your tongue and the memory of his hands on you front and center in your mind, nearly made you groan aloud but you held yourself back.

“Good, good. Knew you could handle it.” *click*

Just like that, Charles had broken the heady mood and hung up in under a minute. You sighed, knowing what the right thing to do was and knowing exactly what you wanted to do instead. As if reading your thoughts, Toki spoke, “Wes don’t has to leaves yet, does we?”

“We does,” you replied playfully, trying to convince yourself of that fact. It wasn’t often that you wished for another job, one where you could be a groupie, act a little slutty, and turn one of your daydreams into a reality. But this was one of those times. However, people got fired- or killed- at work for less and you wouldn’t have even gotten into Dethklok if it weren’t for your job.

Toki sighed, squeezing your thigh again and holding it for a moment. Glancing at him, you’re eyes scanned his face thoroughly. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted back on the headrest, giving you an eyeful of his neck and throat. He had the slightest stubble growing and as you watched, he gulped, making his Adam’s apple bounce. You wanted to remember this moment, every detail, as though that would make it last longer. While you were looking, he opened his eyes and caught yours.

“But you liked to kissing mes?” he asked, his voice more nervous than you’d heard all night. “You thinks I’ms is handsome?”

You hesitated before concluding the cat was fully out of the bag on this one and nodded. “I liked kissing you and I think you’re handsome, Toki. If you asked, I might even say you’re hot as fuck.”

Toki beamed at you, nudging you with his knee. He seemed too tired to move as fast as he was in the heat of the moment but he reached to put his hand on your hip and squeezed. “Okies, you cans drives us home. We is goings to my room,” you blushed but he continued without notice, “we cans talk, I ams asking you questions, it is ams dates.”

#metalocalypse #toki wartooth x reader #so i'm open for writing more but if it's for other characters give me detailed prompts because.....#i may have only really paid attention to toki and nathan #but i wanna rewatch it to get more details anyways so yeah i hope you enjoy #also if you read this and know the right tags to put other fics in let me know!!

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

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It's Delicate: PART I

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Content Warnings: Mention of NA meeting, some case talk, mild language

Author's Note: This is my first chapter fic! I've only written one shots before, so bear with me. I truly do appreciate all reblogs, likes, and comments. Thank you!!

It's Delicate

Spencer doesn’t really care for gas station coffee, but at 2:00 am it’s the only thing that’s open. He pulls into the parking spot and turns off his Volvo. The check engine light is on, he needs to get into a mechanic, but between his NA meetings and work, it’s difficult to even catch his breath.

So that’s what Spencer does. In the middle of the gas station parking lot at 2:00 am, Spencer sits in his blue Volvo and breathes. He takes deep breaths, the ones that he uses when he has to calm down victims when they’re rescued. It’s grounding, breathing like this he thinks. It’s the kind of breath that Spencer takes when his head is fuzzy from sleeplessness and the only thing that can keep his eyes from drooping is a steady stream of coffee.

He unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of his car. Shutting the door, Spencer surveys the rest of the parking lot. He sees a couple other cars in the lot, he supposes it’s the gas station attendants, but he feels his shoulders tense at the thought of trouble. The bell attached to the door rings as Spencer opens the door. It's a small convenience store, one that Spencer has been frequently at odd hours after the BAU’s jet lands. He’s grown to know the owner, Jeff, who for the past 4 years hasn’t been around all too often.

“I’ll take a regular coffee,” Spencer asks the young man behind the counter. He doesn’t say anything in return, but nods his head in understanding as Spencer hands him a $5 bill and tells him to keep the change.

“Night,” Spencer tells the man, who he’s never seen before, when he hands him his coffee. Again, the young man doesn’t answer. Spencer tries to salvage the awkward encounter by chalking up the man’s coldness by it being so late.

As Spencer pushes against the door with the sleeve covered part of his arm, a poster that’s eye level catches his eye. It’s one of those posters where you can rip off the phone number and contact the person. But instead of a 20-something looking for a roommate, it’s a book club advertisement.

Spencer, quickly for a normal person, but slowly for himself, reads over the sign. The book club is hosted at the local bookstore, Hooked on Books, that Spencer has always meant to check out. From what he can gather, the list of numbers are from people looking for what the poster refers to as “book buddies”. Spencer’s eyes scan the list. There aren't any names attached to the numbers, Spencer supposes that the idea behind that is so bias won’t come into play.

It almost seems like the perfect trap: rip off one of these little pieces of paper with a phone number and call that person with the intention of being their book buddy. It’s something that Spencer knows deep in his bones he’s meant to avoid. But it’s like there’s an invisible string pulling at him to rip the third piece of paper from the group and stuff it carefully into the safety of his wallet.

It’s been five days since Spencer visited the cold man at the gas station and took the number from the poster. In those five days, Spencer slept for two and was back on plane to the middle of Montana for the next three.

After a long day in the sun, Spencer relishes in the cold water from the hotel shower. Even though he had to crouch slightly, Spencer still appreciated the way the chilly water seems to wash him anew. He never sleeps well when the team is on a case, it’s like his mind can’t rest. Well, his mind can never really rest, since it’s technically always growing and changing, especially during sleep.

Spencer’s thoughts travel from his messed up circadian rhythm to the piece of paper that burns a hole in his wallet. He steps out of the shower and dresses in his pajamas. It’s cold in the hotel run, as JJ likes to sleep in the coldest temperature humanly possible. Spencer knows that she finds the weight of blankets comforting. He makes a mental note to put some of his pillows on JJ’s bed, so she can pretend it’s her boys and Will in the bed with her. Spencer can’t help but wonder what’s like to have a child or a partner that misses you. It must be so bittersweet: the promise of coming home, but the threat of having to leave them all behind at moments notice.

Letting his hair air dry, Spencer unlocks the door and enters his and JJ’s hotel room. Out of the whole team, Spencer likes sharing with JJ the best. She’s the most organized and usually, they’ll spend the night on FaceTime with the boys and Will watching a movie, depending on the time.

“You’re all good, JJ. Thanks for letting me get in first,” Spencer says, flopping down on his bed. He shuts off his light, essentially telling JJ that he doesn’t want to talk about the case, or Henry, or anything really.

“Good night, Spence,” JJ says, before shutting off the rest of the lights and heading into the bathroom.

For a couple of minutes, Spencer lays in the all consuming dark. He tries the breathing exercise that’s scientifically proven to make you fall asleep. He counts, one, two, three, four breaths in and holds for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven and let's go for one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

He tries it for a couple of rounds, but suspects thinking about numbers makes him think about the phone number. Spencer can’t exactly pinpoint why he’s nervous to reach out to the number. Maybe it’s his constant fear of judgement or fear of not being enough, he can’t tell.

Knowing that sleep is probably not coming anytime soon, Spencer rolls on his side so he faces the window overlooking the hotel parking lot. He can’t stop thinking about the case. The way the victim’s mother and father walk around the precinct with a lifeless look in their eyes, staying villgiant no matter how many times JJ tells them to go home and rest.

Spencer doesn’t want to think about the case, so his mind flits to another subject: Hooked on Books Book Buddies. He can’t really pinpoint why he didn’t reach out to his book buddy. But laying there in the bed, Spencer feels strongly compelled to do anything to get his mind off the case, so he climbs out of bed to reach for his phone.

It’s tucked away neatly in his go bag, unlike JJ, Spencer doesn’t have anyone that’s waiting for him at home. Sure he has his mother, but if she needed him, the home would wait until 8 am to call Spencer. He unlocks it and the blue light illuminates the room. Somehow, Garcia had convinced him to get an updated phone. Spencer hardly uses it, but does appreciate being able to get pictures of JJ’s boys and his mother.

He memorized the number in the ten seconds or so it took him to rip the little slip of paper from the poster and put it away in his wallet. Spencer punches the numbers into a new contact, but hesitates when he’s prompted to give a name. He doesn’t know the first thing about this person. Seriously, this is like FBI 101 on the do not listen, he thinks.

Spencer pushes the thoughts of serial killers, for what feels like the first time in ten years, from his mind when he hits the button to message his mysterious book buddy. He types out a message a couple of times, but ends up deleting them because he sounds so incredibly stupid.

Spencer: Hello. I do apologize for my late message. I work odd hours, but I came across your number at the gas station on the corner of Richmond Street and Connor Avenue in Woodbridge. If you are interested, perhaps we can have a conversation about Hooked on Books’ Book Club?

Spencer, realizing that the message he wrote is going to be as good as it gets, hits the little arrow for “send”. He watches as his message turns blue and the little gray delivered pops up. He doesn’t expect the person to send a message back yet. He’s all the way in Montana and they’re in Woodbridge, Virginia, presumably. If it’s 2:30 am in Montana, it’s 4:30 back at home. That’s a little too late for someone with a normal 9 to 5 to be up for work and a little too late for a person that’s joining a book club to haven’t gone to sleep yet.

Don’t profile them, Spencer.

“What’s got you glued to the phone, Reid?” JJ says, with a smirk as she walks out from the bathroom and climbs into her bed. She came in so quietly, or rather, Spencer was staring so intensely at his phone that he didn’t realize.

“Something with my mother, JJ,” he lies, and he doesn’t even know what he can’t tell her the truth.

“Okay, Spence. I just want to make sure you’re all good,” JJ says quietly, her back must be facing Spencer because her voice is muffled a little bit.

“Thanks, JJ, uh good night, now,” Spencer says, effectively ending the conversation.

JJ doesn’t say anything after that, perhaps she just understands that Spencer doesn’t want to talk. Spencer rests flat on his back and tries a couple more rounds of the breathing exercise, but nothing seems to make his brain shut off. Despite the way his eyelids droop and the way it’s almost painful to continue to think, Spencer can’t seem to fall asleep.

He thinks about his Book Buddy, whoever they might be. Spencer hopes that they are around his age. He can’t remember a time that he had a friend his age that wasn’t through work. He has people. JJ is the closest thing to a sister that he’ll ever get and he knows that Derek loves him like a brother, despite his teasing. Emily and Penelope are Spencer’s rock. And then there’s Tara, Matt, and Luke, though Spencer has really gotten a chance to know them all too well, he knows that they’re a team.

But Spencer has always dreamt of having a friend. As a little kid, he used to make up imaginary friends that would listen to his science facts and perform chemistry experiments from him. When he got to high school, his dreams were occupied by someone who’d reach for his hand after he’d been beaten down or strung to a football post. Sure he had Ethan, but that was something charged and electric that left Spencer longing for someone again.

Spencer hadn’t had dreams about a friend in a long time, but tonight he dreamt of coffee and books in a small café and a faceless stranger that would listen to him and laugh with him.

Even though he fell asleep relatively shortly after thinking about his Book Buddy, Spencer did not feel well rested. He turns around in his bed and notices that JJ’s bed is already neatly made. The bathroom is empty, so Spencer reckons that JJ and Emily must already be at the police station.

He wants to savor the last couple of minutes in bed, maybe chase a dream or two of strangers swapping books and making memories over expensive coffee and scones. But reality calls him back home. Spencer checks his phones for work updates (and maybe a message or two from his Book Buddy), but the only notifications on his phone is a Forbes article and a couple emails from Georgetown.

Spencer, heading to the bathroom, gets interrupted by a loud and persistent knock on his hotel room door. He opens the door, revealing an equally tired looking Luke. He waves Spencer good morning before slumping down in the desk chair in the corner of the hotel room.

“I’ve been sent by JJ to get you, she thinks you’re acting weird,” Luke says, expecting Spencer to explain himself.

Awkwardly, Spencer makes something in between a grimace and a frown. He rolls his eyes, but plays along with what he thinks Luke’s little game.

“Well I’m always weird, it would be weird if I wasn’t being weird,” Spencer says, heading into the bathroom with a pile of work clothes. He shuts the door, both literally on Luke and metaphorically on their conversation.

In the bathroom, Spencer dresses out of his pajamas and into a pair of well worn pants and a light purple button up. He forgot his contacts at his apartment, but luckily had a back up pair of glasses in his go bag. Spencer, looking in the mirror, never particularly carried for the reflection that looks back at him. It always seems like his hair is too messy, or his collar is all twisted, or his eyebags are too prominent.

At least the glasses can kind of cover up his eye bags, Spencer thinks as he shuts off the light and closes the bathroom door behind him. Luke, who still is slouched in the chair, looks at his phone.

“Waiting for Penelope to send you a picture of Sergio or something?” Spencer asks, the snark in his voice isn’t missed by Luke.

“You’re one to talk, JJ was telling me how you’re being kind of secretive for the last couple of weeks,” Luke counters.

“Yeah, that’s my work mandated therapist, Luke. You know from the time I was in jail,” Spencer shoots back a little harder than he intended. The look that Luke gives him is something akin to a hurt puppy and Spencer can’t help but feel a little bad for snapping at Luke’s teasing.

“Sorry, man,” Luke says, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “I get it, and you know I’m here for you, Reid. We might not be as close as you and Penny or you and JJ, but I’m here to listen to you,” Luke says, his hand on Spencer, who’s usually so hesitant to touch, is something Spencer never thought he would find comforting.

“Thank you,” is all Spencer can manage and somehow, Luke just gets it. They walk quietly to the parking lot where the SUVs are. The silence continues as they drive to the police station.

It’s still early, only 7:13 am. Spencer can only hope that they catch the unsub in the next couple of hours, so they can file the paperwork and be on their way to Quantico by 8:00 pm. Luke’s steady driving threatens to lull Spencer to sleep. His quiet presence, however, is interrupted with a buzz. Luke’s eyes dart to his phone that navigates them to the police station. He refuses to take direction from Spencer, who has a habit of being a terrible co-pilot.

“Check that for me,” Luke says, “it’s probably Penelope,”

Spencer raises his eyebrows and attempts to suppress a smirk at Luke’s blatant transparency.

“You know with updates about the case and whatnot,” Luke says, brushing Spencer’s teasing off and putting his attention back to the road.

“It’s not Garcia and for what it’s worth, Luke, I don’t see how she’d say no,” Spencer offers, genuinely wanting to see his two friends, who are so perfect for each other it’s almost ridiculous, get together.

Luke shuffles in his seat uncomfortably and pulls into the station. He shoots Spencer a lot, as if to say drop it. The last thing Luke wants is Tara and Matt to get wind of his excitement at Penelope texting him.

Spencer, who’s phone lights up alerting him that he has an unread message, feels a sudden surge in his heart. He’s so used to only getting messages from JJ about the cases or pictures of her boys, that a text not related to his work or his family leaves a smile to his face.

Spencer tries to not profile the message, but to just read it like a normal friend would.

Book Buddy (Y/N): Hey there😊! I can’t believe someone actually grabbed my number...I’m glad you’re interested in this. I’m Y/N and I don’t think you mentioned your name, I don’t make it a habit to meet up with strangers before not knowing their name.

Reading the message twice to make sure he can recite without any hesitation, Spencer’s face falls as he realizes that he forgot to tell them his own name. How could you be so clueless, Spencer, he thinks.

Quickly, because he knows that the rest of the team is waiting inside the police station, that is like a portal to the past, Spencer types out another message.

Spencer: My name is Spencer.

Spencer: I tend to be away for work quite often, so I do apologize for the late message. And for hiding my identity-- not that that was on purpose. Is it okay if we plan something when I get back to Virginia?

Spencer doesn’t expect a message right away, but he can tell that there’s going to be something Pavlovian about the way that little swoosh sound makes his fingers reach for his phone.

Thank You!! I love and appreciate all and every comments, likes, and reblogs. I love knowing what you think!!

--Taglist--

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@nomajdetective

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds reader #spencer reid x yn

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youngbeezer · 3 years ago

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Do you Believe in Happily Ever After? | Joel Farabee

A/N: Hello again! I got such a great response to my first fic I posted which literally made me so happy, so thank you so much to anyone who gave me the time of their day to read my fic. Here is a new fic for mr. joel farabee!! This one is a little longer and I tried my best, feedback always appreciated, but I hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: Few curse words, overall just fluff

Word Count: 2160

Tagging a few people again so this doesn’t flop,,,

@ollywahlygator @joshsandersons @joelsfarabees @fratboyzegras @sorokns @butgilinsky @ricohenrique

I haven’t been to too many weddings in my life. I attended one for my uncle when I was around 10 years old but I don’t remember much from it. My mother also got remarried around 3 years ago, but up until this year, weddings weren’t a natural occurrence in my life.

This past year though.. I’ve attended two weddings, got an invitation in the mail today for another one, a close friend of mine just recently got engaged (so that invitation will be coming sometime in the near future), and one of my best friends’ wedding is tomorrow. Now I feel like everywhere I look, I am surrounded by love.

Now I’m not saying that is a bad thing, but when every one of your friends are either having kids, getting married, or in serious relationships, it starts to feel a little discouraging. Is there something wrong with me? Am I the reason why I’m still single?-- No, I refuse to think like that! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted to. Maybe my friends are right though… Maybe I’m not putting myself out there enough.

Anyway, one of my best friends, Karly, is getting married to her long-time boyfriend Travis tomorrow. I’ve met Travis, or as everyone seems to call him ‘TK’, a handful of times and I know he plays for the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team-- which is cool I guess, but other than that I don’t know much about his personal life or who he hangs out with.

Karly and I met running into each other at a cafe once. Yeah, yeah I know it sounds like one of those cliche romantic meetings, where two people bump into each other and immediately fall in love. I mean we did hit it off almost immediately and from there we became like two peas in a pod-- just not in the way you think. I’ve always wondered though, if maybe I ran into a handsome man at a coffee shop or walking down the street, would I be having my happily ever after right now?

I snap out of my thoughts when an incoming call from- speak of the devil, the bribe to be. Before I can even say my greetings, Karly jumps right into business;

“Ok! So since you weren’t able to come to the dress rehearsal or rehearsal dinner. I’ll give you the rundown on what you need to do.”

Oh yeah, did I mention that I am one of the bridesmaids? Sadly, I was not able to attend the functions before the wedding due to not being able to get time off from work. But, Karly was super cool with it, which brings us to the reason for this call.

“Ok so basically, your dress and everything is already in the bridal suite, so everything will be ready for you when you get here tomorrow. You’ll be walking down the aisle third with one of Travis’ buddies Joel-- he plays on the team with Trav and he’s such a sweet guy he’ll definitely help you out if you need anything.. You know now that I think about it you guys would be such a cute couple-”

“Uh Karly? I don’t think now's the time to play matchmaker, when we should be preparing for your big day tomorrow.” I cut her off.

“Alright, alright. But I will be coming back to that thought. Ok so anyway--”

After that I kind of zone out from trying to keep up with whatever Karly is spitting at me right now. While still on the phone, I pull out my laptop and search for the name ‘Joel’ with ‘Philadelphia Flyers’ next to it in search of this man who is said to be walking me down the aisle. Right away the name ‘Joel Farabee’ pops up with a wikipedia and multiple photos. Hm this guy is kinda cute. Just as I go to click view more images, Karly’s words register back in my brain;

“Ok y/n, did you get that?”

“Hm.. oh yeah! Got it. What time should I be there tomorrow?” I ask, praying that she didn’t already mention that and realize I wasn’t paying attention.

“8 AM sharp,” she responds all giddy.

I suddenly remember that my best friend is actually getting married tomorrow. Feeling giddy as well I reply, “Sounds good. I am so happy for you Karly and I can’t wait to see how beautiful you look tomorrow!”

Karly does a little shriek in response and reiterates her excitement as well. We then say our goodbyes and I wish her a great last night as an unmarried woman before hanging up. I got back to what I was working on before the call and all my jumbled thoughts entered my brain, totally forgetting about a certain someone named ‘Joel’ as I exited the browser.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning I arrive at 8:17 AM at the wedding venue and as soon as I exit the Uber, I start booking it to the bridal suite. When Karly says to be somewhere at 8 AM sharp, you be there at 8 AM sharp, and I’m not particularly fond of facing her wrath today, especially on her wedding day when stress levels are through the roof.

There’s just one problem though… Since I wasn’t able to attend the rehearsal, I have no idea where I am going.

Trying to recall the directions Karly told me on the phone last night (when I wasn’t paying attention), I take a sharp turn around a corner looking the opposite direction and suddenly collide with a dead end. Wait- no that’s not a dead end, it’s a person.

Immediately going to spit out an apology, I stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with the handsome man I bumped into.

“Oh shit! I am so sorry. Are you alright?” I see his lips moving, which are very nice to look at by the way, but my mind doesn’t register his words as I stare dumbfoundedly at this handsome stranger. Who, now that I think about it, looks a little familiar.

When I still don’t answer, the familiar stranger clears his throat before giving me a once over of my whole body, which does little to bring me out of my trance. If anything I now start to feel my whole face flush from noticing him obviously checking me out.

His face then seems to light up in recognition before asking, “Wait, are you y/n?”

When he notices my look of confusion on how he knows my name he continues, “I’m Joel, Joel Farabee.” Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, I notice a slight blush coating his cheeks before he adds, “We’re paired to walk down the aisle together… Um, also I think Karly is looking for you. She was kind of freaking out a little.”

With that last sentence my whole body comes back to life realizing that I am late and Karly is going to kill me. Hurriedly I exclaim “Oh my gosh! I am so late and I have no idea where the hell I’m going.” I frantically search around for any directions to point me to the bridal suite.

Joel kindly puts his hand on my shoulder, which immediately ignites a fire on the skin he is touching, before he reassures “Hey, you’re good. Just take your first right down this hall and then it will be at the end of the corridor, you can’t miss it. Seriously. She hung up streamers and balloons everywhere with a poster on the door that says ‘Bridal Suite. NO BOYS ALLOWED’.”

Letting out a soft snort I gently thank Joel before rushing in the direction he pointed me to. Before turning right, I sneak a quick glance over my shoulder to find Joel already glancing my way. My heart does a little flutter when we make eye contact and he gives me a little lopsided grin before going on his way.

What just happened…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as I walk through the doors of the suite, I am immediately ambushed by the bride to be on why I was late, until she notices the deep blush covering my cheeks, which then prompts another ambush on what made me blush.

I change the topic as quickly as I can and direct our attention on getting ready for the ceremony. Karly looks absolutely beautiful in her white gown and her hair all dolled up. She doesn’t even seem remotely nervous for today as well. Most weddings I have been to, the bride is always going batshit crazy making sure everything is perfect or worrying that her soon to be husband might back out. That just shows how happy and comfortable Karly and Travis are in their relationship. God, I wonder what it must feel like to have that kind of love that is so solid and healthy. Suddenly my mind starts drifting to what it would be like to have that type of relationship with Joel.

Oh who am I kidding? I just met the guy. Sure, when his hand touched my shoulder my whole body felt like it was on fire. And yeah, maybe when he gave me that little lopsided grin it gave my entire stomach butterflies. Oh jeez. Today is gonna be a long day…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ok now I feel like my whole body is going to explode. He is looking at me like I’m now the bride and he is the groom. And suddenly, I’m wishing that were the case. We are getting closer and closer to walking down the aisle together, and every step we take towards one another my stomach does a little flip.

When we finally reach each other, he offers his arm for me to take as he speaks, “Wow… Uh yeah wow, you look gorgeous.”

Blushing, I respond with a quiet “Thank you.”

“Guess I was the lucky one eh? In case I end up tripping and making a fool of myself, no one will even be paying attention because all eyes will be on you.” There’s that little lopsided grin of his again.

“Well aren’t you a sweet talker.” I responded.

He just gives me a subtle wink before we ascend through the doors and down the aisle where Travis is waiting for the big moment. He gives us both a little smirk before we part ways like he knows something we both don’t.

…

Eventually Karly walks down the aisle looking like an absolute princess. The officiator says his whole ordeal, Karly and TK both say their vows to one another, there are lots of tears, and Joel and I can’t seem to keep our eyes off of each other.

After the ceremony, we all head in the direction of the reception hall where the real fun begins. Don’t get me wrong, the wedding was spectacular, the way everyone expected it to be. Now as music filled the air with a giddy sort of elation, the newlyweds looking beautiful and so happy while dancing, friends and relatives chatting between one another about this and that; I can’t help but feel a little bittersweet about it. I want this. I want that giddy elation to be surrounded around me, I want to wear that beautiful white gown, I want the guy to be looking at me like I just hung the moon while we had our first dance. Where’s my happily ever after--

“You know you never properly introduced yourself?”

Startled, I spun around to find the source. Joel.

I give him a sweet smile before returning my gaze back to the happy couple and responding, “Y/n y/l/n.”

He follows my gaze and lets out a little sigh before expressing “They’re perfect for each other, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they really are.” Before I can get another word in Joel blurts;

“Do you wanna dance? Like,” He stumbles a little with his words, “like with me?”

Letting out a soft giggle, I happily reply, “I would love to.”

Seemingly relieved, Joel takes my hand and leads me out onto the dance floor as soon as a slow song comes on. He puts his hands respectively on my waist while I put mine around his neck inching him closer to my body. We dance with each other for a while, even after the song is over and a fast high tempo song blasts through the speakers. It’s like we are lost in each other, just savoring this ‘moment’ together.

Eventually after the fourth song comes on and we are still dancing, Joel pulls away just a little to look me in the eye before softly whispering “Do you believe in happily ever afters?”

Seeing that look in his eyes again, the one where it seems like he is looking at me like I just hung the moon? I answer in that same soft whisper, “Yeah… yeah I think I do.”

#joel farabee #joel farabee imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #joel farabee fic #ahh i just wanna dance with joel farabee and immediately fall in love with him #hope you liked it :)#my writing

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crystalas · 3 years ago

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Hind Sight

This is both inspired and a sort of prequel to Starfics’ answer to my prompt, I loved the idea of it so much that I started a Demon Bull Divorce AU, have fun!

Hindsight

Like a lot of things in hindsight MK could see that this was a very dumb idea.

It was a spur of the moment idea that came to him and Mei as they saw Red Son in the garage with his signature jacket hanging up because said fire demon was currently up to his elbows in tuk-tuk engine bits.

Red Son had just shown up at the noodle store one day declaring that he was there to ‘pay off his father’s debt’ after the whole lunar new year event. Everyone was a bit suspicious at first but Mei and MK decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all they knew he wasn’t all evil. True to his word he helped out with fixing stuff and had offered to upgrade the Tuk-tuk, after a few weeks they had managed to convince him to hang out with them after work as well.

That day MK had figured out how to shrink himself and after showing Mei she grinned and suggested they surprise Red Son with it.

Which was the aforementioned very dumb idea.

Said idea was for MK to shrink himself and then have Mei put him in Red Son’s jacket pocket, and when Red Son put it back on, have Mei ask the fire demon if he has seen MK and when he said no ask him to check his pockets…boom! Itty MK!

So, the joke was set, a shrunk MK in place and Mei was now walking up to Red Son as he clambered out of the Tuk-Tuk’s mechanical guts wiping away the grease from his hands.

“Hey Red boy” she beamed.

“Hey dragon horse girl” he said back as he got up.

“Have you seen MK?”

“No but I need to show him how to operate the upgrades…” he began but stopped when he looked at the clock on the garage wall, his smile dissolved into mild panic.

“Is that the time?!” he yelped and rushed past Mei grabbing his coat, igniting his hands to burn off all the grease and oil that had clung to him still and began to make a move for the door. “I’m sorry I need to get home tonight, tell Noodle boy I’ll show him tomorrow, okay?” Red Son yammered quickly.

“Red wait!” Mei cried as he vanished into a swirl of fire.

“Did you check your pockets?” she whimpered sheepishly.

MK felt like he was in a weird fair ground ride, cushioned in fabric and being swung around like on a rollercoaster; it was kind of fun. Not to mention he found a wrapped candy in here and at his current size it was as big as a pillow! He could hear Mei and Red Son talking and waited for his que but then things got very bumpy and then felt very hot and weird for a second as he felt his whole body move in a way that shouldn’t be possible for him before the background ambience of the city suddenly died into a hushed sound of far-off clanking and whirring.

He poked his head out of the pocket to see he was now in an old Chinese style mansion but it was underground and hewn from the rock itself, the walls were adorned with demon Bull family heirlooms and pictures all showing the grand history of the conquering demon clan. MK could hear Red Son muttering to himself.

“I’ve got enough time to check on the projects and get in my best clothes…did I remember to check the repair schedule for the clones?”

MK was about to poke out of the pocket and announce himself when Red Son stopped by a large door that seemed to lead to a main hall, he seemed to hesitate near the entrance as MK and no doubt Red Son could hear angry raised voices.

“How is it I was the one stuck under a mountain but you are the one stuck in the past?” Demon Bull King demanded.

“I am thinking of our legacy and heritage, things you seem keen to throw away!” Princess Iron Fan retorted.

“Our pursuit of power has only brought us trouble!” came the angry reply “We need to move with the times!”

“Listen to you!” Princess Iron Fan screeched “You sound that useless son of ours!”

MK poked out of the pocket and looked up at Red Son who looked forlorn but not surprised as he carried on past the door his shoulders hunched over as he hurried through. Red Son came to a kitchen that seemed big enough to feed a whole court full of people but it was sadly empty and hollow except for one corner where a bull clone was currently working at a stove top. It saw Red Son and bowed respectively.

“I don’t think family meal time will be happening tonight” Red Son declared “so I will be taking my evening meal in my room…again…” the bull clone nodded and got back to preparing said meal. Red Son continued walking through the vacant halls as the vicious shouting ebbed away to quiet muffled sounds. He came to his room and sat at his desk; MK looked around to see his room unlike the rest of the castle had a bit of life to it. There were posters of car designs and movie mechs adorning the walls, a work table filled with small cabinets of tools and gear and what looked to be a shelf filled with scrolls and old tomes. MK had wondered why someone as tidy as Red Son would have what looked to be an arranged pile of tinfoil and fabric in a corner of his room before he realised that must his bed. He remembered Pigsy saying how some demons prefer nests to human style beds.

Okay I really need to show myself before things get even more awkward MK decided and he started to climb out but froze when he heard the door open, Red Son turned to see his mother glaring at him and MK quickly dived back into the safety concealment of the jacket.

“You’ve ruined him” she hissed, and MK could feel Red Son flinch. “Your father was a proud mighty demon King who conquered whole armies alone and made the heavens fear him and now looked at what you have done!”

“Isn’t this better?” Red Son said quietly “I mean…this way we won’t have to worry about him being hurt or sealed… aah!” came the pain gasped as MK could hear a very sharp and painful smack, MK grabbed the fabric of the pocket as Red Son’s whole body violently jerked to the side.

“Be quiet you worthless whelp!” she snarled “I kept our family name safe and proud for centuries and in one year you’ve weakened your father, the great Demon Bull King to the point that he wants to ‘settle down peacefully’!” she said the last bit dripping with venom and MK wished for Red Son to speak up or say something or at the very least move from where he was sitting but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry mother…” was all he managed after a moment of silence.

“Sorry doesn’t undo what you have done!” she spat and MK listened to the sound of her shoes moving away, “Sometimes I wish you had never returned!” she exclaimed coldly before shutting the door.

The fabric around him lurched as Red Son moved and he could feel energy pulse around him like the sky before lightning struck, it was only then did MK realised how dumb this idea really was. Red Son ignites into flames when upset or angry and it’s pretty obvious his clothes are fire proof to deal with that.

MK wasn’t fire proof…

MK made a mad scramble out of the pocket and leapt away just in time for a massive inferno engulfed where he had been hiding and everything else around it. He landed on the cold stone floor and patted himself down to make sure nothing was on fire and once he was sure he wasn’t smouldering he looked back up at the crackling fire ball that was his friend. Red Son still hadn’t moved from the desk but was now hunched over it his hands clawing into his fiery hair his eyes tightly shut but flames still leaked out and his whole body was shuddering as he tried to control his breathing.

MK decided that maybe he should give the fire demon with known anger issues some time to breathe and started to make his way to hide in the nest till he seemed to have calmed down but as he tiptoed his way across the room Red Son sensed the movement. The fire evaporating into the air as Red Son turned around and scanned the room, he glanced down to see a tiny MK in mid sneak.

Red Son looked at MK confused.

MK looked at Red Son worried.

There was a pregnant pause.

“Heh heh …Ta da!” MK said weakly and held out his hands as if to show off “Look what I can do now!”

“Noodle boy?” Red Son muttered quietly as his brain tried to fathom him being there before it clicked that he was and what that might imply. “How long have you been here?” he asked a look of dread falling on his face.

“Oh pssh!” MK tried to dismiss “Not long…no not long at all!”

“Noodle boy” Red Son growled, “How long?”

“… … …” MK struggled to come up with a decent excuse before sighing and returning to his full size, if they were going to have this talk he wanted to be able to look him in face. “Since you made a mad dash out of the garage…”

Red Son gave a groan and covered his face before returning to slump on the desk.

“I know this is going to sound dumb but is everything ok?” MK inquired, “I don’t know how demon families work but that…didn’t sound good.”

“Everything’s fine Noodle boy!” Red Son declared sharply, “My parents are just…going through a rough patch, that is all!”

“A rough patch huh?” MK muttered before walking over to the desk and lightly touching Red Son’s face where the red mark showing where his mother had slapped him was now fading away. How many times had that happened and no one knew thanks to demon healing powers? Red Son batted his hand away and snarled angrily.

“Yes!” he snapped and glared at his desk.

Things were clicking into place in MK’s mind, in hind sight he should have wondered why Red Son showed up out of the blue and wanted to pay off some demon debt, why he had wanted to stay around them as long as possible and even agreed to hang out in the evenings and only on certain days [apparently for family meal times] would he actually go home before anyone else.

MK remembered in the first week of Red Son coming over, Pigsy finally gave in and let Red Son help by telling him to try and get his old tricky stove working again. Red Son had not only fixed it but cleaned it up and gave it a full work through and when he was finished the thing looked and worked as if brand new. Pigsy in his joy of getting his stove back to its prime for free patted Red Son on the back and declared he had paid back the debt in spades.

MK had wondered that day why Red Son had looked so upset but had dismissed it when a moment later the fire demon had gone on a tirade about how insulting it was that Pigsy thought his father’s life was worth only an afternoon of labour.

Maybe Pigsy and Tang had cottoned on a lot sooner than he had because after that they would always find little things for Red Son to do to ‘pay back the debt’.

“Red Son” Mk said as these thoughts mulled in his mind “Was there even a debt to pay off?”

Red Son turned to face him, he fidgeted with his hands for a few moments before sighing.

“I…I…I thought you would be more at ease if you thought that I was honoured bound to behave…”

“Why didn’t you just say something?”

“Like what?!” Red Son retorted “Please may I come over here because I rather spend my days with my enemies rather than my parents because they’re constantly fighting and I can’t do anything to fix it?!” Red Son jaw snapped shut and his hair flared up angrily. “Because they don’t! Fight all the time…I mean…” he exclaimed as he tried to back pedal out of the conversation.

MK watched Red Son and felt a wave of pity come over for him, it was like looking into a mirror of seven years ago. He could almost feel the emotions Red Son must be going through right now, the uncertainty of what was going to happen next, the guilt of not being able to stop it, that gnawing anxiety of thinking if he was to blame somehow. And that horrible cold fear of knowing that sooner or later one of them will be coming up to take their frustration out on someone who won’t fight back…

He thanked the gods regularly that he was fortunate enough that it was Pigsy that caught him dump diving behind his store, how different would his life had been if Pigsy and Tang hadn’t taken him in? He probably had starved to death on the streets that winter.

“Everything was supposed to get better when Father came back…” Red Son muttered to himself but was jolted back into the room as MK put his hands on his shoulders.

“Your parents are going through some stuff right now, so do you want to hang out at my place while they work it out?”

“What?” Red Son spluttered.

“Maybe they just need some space I dunno” MK said, “but what your mom did was not okay, and I’m worried about you”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends you dummy!” MK laughed “and friends help each other even without demon debts to pay!”

Red Son stood up and pulled out a duffle bag from his wardrobe, he started to fill it with clothes, a stuff bull toy that looked to be antique and over-night necessities.

“You seem to have experience with this sort of thing” Red Son ventured quietly as MK helped him put his tools away in a box for travel.

“Let’s just say I’ve been where you are” MK said softly.

“In your experienced opinion…will me not being here helped my parents to reconcile?”

MK swallowed a hard lump in his throat, he didn’t know if it helped with his parents because he ran away from home and as far as he knows they never came looking for him. Mk was on the streets for three weeks before that fated night at Pigsy’s and it’s been seven years since then and he’s only ever caught a glimpse of them while during his deliveries on the streets.

“Sure, they will” MK answered with a smile “I hope so!”

Red Son left a note telling his parents exactly where he was and how to contact him before they left.

MK wasn’t all that surprised when after explaining the situation Pigsy happen to have a spare fold out bed in the store room.

#monkie kid red son #monkie kid mk #demon bull divorce AU #red son

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 4 years ago

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IOTA Reviews: Miraculous World: New York - United HeroeZ

So... with the recent announcement that Seasons 4 and 5 of Miraculous Ladybug will air on Disney+, with one episode set to air around March 27th (and it's out of order because of course it is), I figured I would try something new with this blog.

While I'm sure Astruc will be more active while the new season is airing, I figured I'd take a stab at reviewing new episodes of Miraculous Ladybug when they come out, as I already have a Disney+ account that I only really use to watch Star Wars and other Disney Channel cartoons I've never seen before. Well, that and the gloriousness that is Mech-X4.

And I was thinking that since a certain special is already available on Disney+, I'll review it now. Consider it my, uh...

279 Follower Special. Yeah, that’s it.

Miraculous World: New York – United Heroez is the first in a series of Miraculous Ladybug specials with the premise of having our heroes travel around the world. Because I guess that's what you do with your show when you run out of ideas for things your characters can do. Just ask Ash Ketchum and Thomas the Tank Engine.

The special is somewhat polarizing among the fandom, with some loving it, and some hating it. If you've seen some of my earlier posts, you probably already know how I feel about this.

Anyway, let's take a look at Miraculous World: New York – United Heroez

We start off with a logo letting us know this is going to be the start of a series of specials called Miraculous World.

Yeah, I'm sure that'll be remembered among other great cinematic universes like the Dark Universe and Ghost Corps.

In all seriousness, this is actually a pretty decent opening. It has some nice visuals that inform the audience of the globetrotting gimmick seen in the special, and the orchestral cover of the Miraculous Ladybug theme sounds pretty badass.

The special truly starts off in the middle of an Akuma fight, where we see that Mr. Pigeon is taking inspiration from Startrain's plan to escape to the one place that hasn't been corrupted by capitalism... SPACE! Apparently, this is the 51st time that Ladybug and Cat Noir have fought him, which makes you wonder if Hawkmoth is either running out of ideas, or if he just wants to see how insane Mr. Pigeon's plans can get for the hell of it.

Ladybug and Cat Noir transform into their new space forms that they've obviously had for a while, given Alya's familiarity with their names... even though those forms probably would have been useful when they were fighting Startrain. And this is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of things this special retcons.

We get a few interactions between Ladybug and Cat Noir to give new viewers an idea of what the Love Square dynamic is like, with Cat Noir fawning over Ladybug after she leaves, and Marinette gushing over a new poster Adrien is in. I'll get back to this later,

After that, we see a brief clip from a student film teaching the audience about the real life friendship between George Washington and Marquis de Lafayette (the latter actually becoming one of Washington's close advisors during the Revolutionary War), and how it lead to the completely made up, “French American Friendship week”, which is basically an excuse for Marinette and Adrien's class to go to New York for a week.

Their teacher, Ms. Bustier isn't going with them because she's having a baby (God help us if the writers resort to pregnancy jokes next season), so the only other teacher in the school, Ms. Mendeleiev, will be supervising the class instead.

Adrien isn't able to go to New York because his father won't let him, and even he lampshades how predictable this is. But as soon as Lila suggests spending time with Adrien, Marinette immediately declares she will try to get Adrien to come on the trip with everyone, because he's her friend... and then Alya mocks her for saying that in the very next scene.

And here is the first problem with this special: The way Marinette's crush on Adrien is portrayed.

We're supposed to see Marinette as being in denial about her feelings for Adrien, but when you think about how Season 3 ended with Marinette realizing Adrien and Kagami (who will make an appearance in this special later on) are happy together, it makes sense that she wants to do this. She wants to move on from her crush on Adrien and try to be friends with him.

Unfortunately, her “best friend” Alya isn't willing to let her move on, which is extremely hypocritical when you remember how often she teased her for her behavior around Adrien, to the point where her other “friends” made bets about Marinette's hesitance to confess to him (Cat Blanc). Does she even know about Adrien and Kagami?

And throughout this special, rather than acknowledge Marinette's decision to move on, she constantly teases Marinette about how she still has feelings for Adrien, instead of simply leaving her alone. She reaches salt fic levels of unlikable in this special.

It doesn't help that Marinette's anxiety around Adrien is cranked up to twelve in this special, with her constantly stammering, or fidgeting around to the point where she struggles to get through a door. Twice. And as always, this behavior is only going to be played for laughs, because the showrunners are running out of ways to make Marinette suffer for comedy. And it only gets worse from here.

While watching a news report about a necklace and sabre George Washington had given to him by Lafyette, Nathalie, bedridden from the events of the season finale, tells Gabriel that the necklace in question is actually a lost Miraculous.

And as soon as Marinette arrives, Gabriel tells her that he's going to let Adrien go on the trip. His reason?

Gabriel: Letting Adrien go to New York will be simpler than hiding my absence here from him. Besides, this will allow me to continue keeping an eye on him.

Yeah, he seriously thinks it's a good idea to send his son to the same place he's planning to attack as part of one of his plans. At least you could make the argument that whenever Adrien is endangered during an Akuma attack, he's simply caught in the crossfire because he's in the wrong place at the wrong time, like with “Style Queen”. Here, Gabriel is intentionally letting Adrien go to New York, while claiming that he will be able to monitor him while he plots to attack the city. This is like if Grand Moff Tarkin let his son go to Alderaan for vacation. And again, it only gets worse from here.

Though Gabriel waits a day to tell Adrien he's going to New York, because of he did, we wouldn't get any scenes of Adrien moping around about how much his life sucks. Well, that and a scene of him and Kagami, where the latter kisses him. This is Kagami's only scene in the special, and she isn't mentioned again after this.

As Ladybug, Marinette tells Cat Noir she's going away for a few days and trusts him to guard Paris as long as he alerts her of an Akuma or Sentimonster. What will happen to the Miracle Box Marinette inherited from Former Master In Name Only Fu is never explained.

To Adrien's credit, it's Plagg that convinces him to go on the trip even though Ladybug trusted him, and even then, it takes a little bit to convince Adrien, showing he still takes his job seriously, with him coming up with a plan in case an Akuma attacks. It's not perfect, but it's something. That all goes to hell later on, though.

We then see Gabriel once again talking to Emilie's corpse about his plan.

Gabriel: Blah, blah, blah, Emilie. Blah, blah, blah, blah, I'll get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous this time for sure. Blah, blah, blah, blah, I'm such a good father and sympathetic villain.

Oh, sorry. That's how I hear most of his monologues to Emilie these days. My bad.

The next scene features something I bet you've never seen before, Marinette being late for something. Thankfully, Luka gives her a ride to help her catch up, hoping that the trip will “give her some clarity”, most likely referring to her conflicting emotions. Marinette then kisses Luka goodbye and gets on the bus. This is Luka's only scene in the special, and he isn't mentioned again after this.

On the plane, it turns out that Adrien is conveniently sitting next to Marinette, prompting Alya to tease Marinette yet again while making this face.

Alya: (smirking and talking in a very smug tone of voice) Awesome, Marinette! Go and sit next to your “friend”! So you two can enjoy a nice flight together! A very long flight.

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Alya continues to relentlessly tease Marinette and makes fun of her crush for no real reason, suggesting Marinette get off the plane because “New York is the most romantic city in the world after Paris”. And this gives her a goddamn panic attack where she frantically tries to run off the plane. Remember kids, if someone has some kind of anxiety or social awkwardness, it's perfectly fine to tease and make fun of their behavior, and even exploit it for your own amusement.

And after some unfunny hilarious slapstick involving Marinette on the plane, Alya continues her streak of treating Marinette like her plaything.

Nino: If only this trip could help Adrien finally come out of his shell.

Alya: And if only it could help Marinette be more honest with herself and clearer about her feelings!

Nino: Operation New York?

Alya: Operation New York!

Nino: Let's help them loosen up!

Alya: After all, isn't the United States the land of the free?

Well, the only thing you actually got right about America is forcing others to do things they don't want to do. Just ask the Native Americans.

It's scenes like this why Alya is portrayed so negatively in salt fics. And this happens throughout the special. Now, while I'm not really a drinker, I'm guessing there's at least one person reading this post right now who is. So I have a little idea for a game. Every time Alya acts like a terrible friend to Marinette, take a shot. I'd just have a donor ready in case one of your kidneys gives up on you.

After an admittedly nice scene of Adrien thanking Marinette for convincing his father to let him come (undercut by Marinette creepily commenting on Adrien's cologne as they hug), another problem with this special rears its ugly head, as a man with oddly-colored skin arrives on one of the plane's wings.

Alya: Oh, no! That's Techno-Pirate, the supervillain who steals technology!

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Yeah. This is happening. The special is just casually introducing this new supervillain, Techno-Pirate as well as some other superheroes, neither of which had any buildup before, not even a throwaway line They're just here now.

So some of the American superheroes are to save the day, now, I guess. Majestia, the Superman knockoff, helps steer the plane back into position, her robotic daughter, Uncanny Valley, helps fix the plane's broken wing, while Knightowl and Sparrow, the Batman and Robin knockoffs, deal with Techno-Pirate. And everyone just treats this like a regular occurrence.

Marinette: Wow! That all happened so fast! I didn't have time to transform or help out!

Adrien: Good thing the American superheroes were here. I couldn't have transformed here. I'm supposed to be in Paris!

Plagg: Relax, Adrien! Let the local superheroes handle their own problems.

I have so many problems with this plot development. Just how common is the knowledge that there are other superheroes besides Ladybug and Cat Noir in other countries? How have they never been mentioned until now? Why is everyone just accepting the fact that there are other superheroes?

I get that these characters weren't conceived around the time the show started, but the way they're just thrown into the story is just so confusing and does so many things to hurt the narrative instead of helping it. In other episodes, Majestia and Knightowl were only seen in comic books, and Ladybug and Cat Noir were seen as the only heroes in the world because the world itself was fairly down to earth, barring some more advanced technology (the police's weapons in “Origins”, Hawkmoth's lair, Max's robot, Markov, the space dumpsters in “Reverser”, and the AI in Startrain).

The fact that New York is apparently filled with all kinds of superheroes for very mundane things like directing traffic and selling hot dogs just makes the Miraculous seem less important. If there was more work done to better integrate them into the story, like maybe making them an American secret or something, it could have worked. To quote a character voiced by Jason Lee...

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And the sad thing was that Power Rangers was able to pull something like this off far better in 1995. During the third season of Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Master Vile had successfully reversed the Earth's rotation, turning the Power Rangers into children (yes, it runs on Superman logic, just go with it). Because of this, the Rangers are unable to morph, with the villains free to attack the city. In response, Zordon sends out a distress call to another team of Power Rangers from the planet Aquitar.

Now I know what you're thinking. If Zordon had the ability to contact another team of Power Rangers for help, why did it take him so long to do so? The episode immediately answers the question by pointing out that Aquitar is a planet made entirely of water, so it's incredibly dangerous for them to head to a planet like Earth, making their intervention a last resort. And even after they come, a major plot thread is finding ways to keep the Alien Rangers hydrated, which only gets worse when the Alien Rangers' enemy, Hydro Hog, arrives to drain Earth's water while teaming up with the main villains.

The integration of the Alien Rangers into the story generally feels natural, and there is a clear explanation as to why they haven't joined the battle until now, and even then, still place some hurdles for them to overcome. Here, the special just wants the audience to immediately accept the fact that there are hundreds of superheroes in New York.

So as Marinette and Adrien's class arrives in New York, we see Sparrow watching over them, referring to them as “the little croissants”. That's another thing the special gets right about America: casually making racist comments.

Uncanny Valley's civilian form, Aeon, sees Marinette and Adrien, and, of course, she says that they're “made for each other”. If only the writers actually bothered to give us evidence of that fact that everyone loves to say for some reason. Though we do get the only instance of sanity regarding the Love Square in this special, where Sparrow's civilian form, Jess, calls out Aeon for thinking of getting them together.

Aeon: Those two are made for each other.

Jess: Seriously, Aeon? Not again!

Aeon: But I am programmed to help people, Jess!

Jess: Just stop meddling with people's private lives!

Also, I had already mentioned the unfortunate implications of Aeon being programmed to “help people” in an earlier post, but I still want to reiterate that I don't think any of that was intentional at all, and I definitely don't think a single writer on this show is actually racist. Everyone got that? Okay, moving on.

Jess and Aeon are assigned to watch over the Parisian students while they sneak out to a party on the rooftop of the hotel they're staying at, where they meet another superhero, Hot Dog Dan. He gives random people magical hot dogs that give them temporary superpowers. Marinette and Adrien share one, and they both start flying before Adrien offers to slow dance with Marinette.

Okay... It's clear they they're trying to reference an earlier episode, “Despair Bear”, by having Marinette and Adrien dance to the same song they danced to in that episode. The problem is that the context isn't right.

Adrien is dating Kagami, and he's offering to do this... why? What makes him so interested in Marinette all of a sudden? I get that he doesn't realize Marinette has feelings for him, but if someone says they only see you as a friend, do you offer to slow dance with them? Especially if their reaction to your offer is recoiling in fear?

I'm sorry, writers, but you can't try to recreate some of the magic you had in earlier episodes with Adrienette when you have clearly established Lukanette and Adrigami as official relationships at the moment. And don't give me any of that “that's not the point of the special” crap. The season finale showed Marinette and Adrien getting together with Luka and Kagami respectively, so it's natural that a lot of people were looking forward to seeing how they worked as couples. I'll get back to this point later on.

Meanwhile, Gabriel has made his way to New York, and decides to akumatize the arrested Techno-Pirate into Technolizer, asking him to steal Lafyette's sabre from the museum instead of the necklace.

Back to the museum, Alya and Nino decide to send Marinette and Adrien into a room alone where they're locked in and attacked by the supervillain Solutide...'s hologram, which was all part of Jess and Aeon's plan. In a city where there is a superhero and supervillain on every street. They seriously planned on giving Marinette and Adrien a near-death experience to get them to realize their love for each other.

That's... pretty fucking demented.

What if Marinette and Adrien did something reckless in their attempt to escape? They could have seriously gotten hurt. Hell, what if the scare gave either of them a heart attack? And let's say either of them found out what the plan was (which would be pretty easy, given “Solitude” is a hologram). Do you think either of them would be happy with Alya and Nino, even if they confessed their love for each other? And none of them even think to apologize for what they did, and this scene is never mentioned again. To quote a certain internet reviewer. WHAT WERE THEY THINKING!?

Though to be fair, the scene before was the only scene where Alya gets to use a brain cell in this special by pointing how wrong that plan is... for a second before she goes along with it. So close, Alya. So close...

So after Adrien gets a news report revealing that Robustus is attacking Paris (even though Markov is with them in New York), while Marinette isn't contacted by Cat Noir. The situation only gets worse when Technolizer attacks, getting the sabre in the process.

Sparrow and Uncanny Valley try to fight him off, but are quickly overwhelmed, with some of the latter's technology getting stolen by Technolizer. Marinette and Adrien transform and help out the two heroes, naturally being confused by the other's presence.

But while the four heroes chase after Technolizer, Hawkmoth shows competence for once and steals the necklace in the process, while revealing that the Robustus attacking Paris was actually a Sentimonster created by Mayura.

During the fight, rather than focusing on stopping the already dangerous supervillain powered up by Hawkmoth, Ladybug decides to trash talk Cat Noir instead. I get that she's angry at him for not following through on his promise, but can't she wait until after the fight?

Ladybug: (mockigly) “Just go and rest easy! Yeah, leave Paris with me!”

Cat Noir: I-I didn't know I was going to leave! It was a last-minute decision, that's all!

Ladybug: Do you realize that because of you, there's no one in Paris to protect the city?! Why didn't you tell me that you were leaving?!

Cat Noir: I was afraid you'd get angry!

Ladybug: And you were right, because as you can see, I AM angry!

To quote our recently inaugurated president, will you shut up, man? People say I'm too harsh on Cat Noir for the way he acted during episodes like “Syren”, but this is basically the same thing. Ladybug is prioritizing her own feelings over stopping Technolizer. Yes, she has a right to be angry at Cat Noir, but all she has to do is wait until after the battle to chew him out.

And during the battle, Ladybug outright says she can't trust Cat Noir anymore, making the latter flinch, so Technolizer throws him into Uncanny Valley with his Cataclysm activated, killing her.

In her anger, Majestia punches Technolizer through several buildings before Hawkmoth recalls the Akuma inside him before helping the villain get away. Ladybug casts her Miraculous Ladybug, fixing Uncanny Valley, but that's not enough. Knightowl is pissed, and orders Ladybug and Cat Noir to hand over their Miraculous, not listening to why they're so important, so the two run away.

To make things worse, the two find out about Hawkmoth's plan, and Ladybug explains she can only use Miraculous Ladybug to fix damage caused by a specific villain, and since the Sentimonster is gone, she can't do anything.

In his grief, Cat Noir admits that everything that happened is his fault, so he renounces Plagg and hands over his Miraculous to Ladybug before running away.

So... this scene.

This. Scene.

Where. Do I. Begin?

First of all, this is what causes Ladybug to lose trust in Cat Noir? Not the multiple times he disobeyed her orders because of his own personal feelings? Not the constant flirting and unwanted advances even though she's made it clear she doesn't see him that way? Not the time he trusted an evil doppelganger of Ladybug over the real one? It's this? Cat Noir leaving Paris alone while a Sentimonster attacked?

Okay, let's say that Cat Noir decided to stay in Paris after all. What was he supposed to do when Robustus attacked around the same time as Technolizer? What was Ladybug supposed to do when she found out about Robustus in Paris? Was she supposed to abandon New York and head back there or focus on helping the American heroes?

Second, who does Knightowl think she (yeah, she's a woman, I'll get to that in a bit) is ordering Ladybug and Cat Noir to hand over their Miraculous? What authority does she hold over them? Why should they listen to her? Why can't they simply explain why their Miraculous are so important, and that they can't give them up? Why doesn't Ladybug just explain that she's now the Guardian of the Miraculous? In fact, why does Majestia go along with the order? Ladybug still saved her daughter's life! If anything, she should be sticking up for the two.

There's actually a Superman comic where Captain Marvel storms a police station to interrogate a criminal who killed his best friend so he can find out who hired him. Though he comes close to doing it, Captain Marvel ultimately doesn't kill the criminal's boss, but still flies over to Mount Everest to grieve his friend's death.

Enter Superman, planning to call out Captain Marvel, but instead, he sees him crying. He explains that the boy killed was his best friend before revealing his identity as Billy Batson. Superman's response?

He goes to the wizard Shazam and demands to know why he did this to Billy, furious that a child was forced to go through stuff like that. While Shazam can't take back the powers he gave Billy, he encourages Superman to reach out to Billy, leading to him revealing his identity as Clark Kent to the kid.

I'm not saying that Majestia or Knightowl should have called out Master Fu or ask who made Ladybug the Guardian (as awesome as that would have been), but the point I am trying to make is in that comic, Superman made the effort to understand what Billy had been through, and understood what happened. Majestia and Knightowl made no effort to do anything like that. In fact, they never even knew Hawkmoth existed, which I call bullcrap on, given that he once MOVED THE PLANET AWAY FROM ITS ORBIT. Were you all asleep that day? Why didn't you do anything to help Ladybug and Cat Noir fight Hawkmoth? Were you expecting them to just fight this magical terrorist on their own? They don't have the same support system the American heroes have, and they could really use the help.

And third, Cat Noir. Yeah, just because I'm calling out Ladybug doesn't mean Cat Noir isn't taking any heat either. Again, I have to ask, this is what makes him give up? Keep in mind, when he was Aspik in “Desperada” and saw Ladybug get captured by an Akuma, he reversed time 25,913 times to try and save her before he threw in the towel. At the same time, he was willing to quit in “Syren” because he claimed Ladybug didn't trust him. The level of Adrien's willingness to keep going is incredibly inconsistent, and this doesn't really help his reputation as a character.

And then there's the fact that he's bailing on Ladybug when things are at their absolute worst. Yes, Marinette also briefly gave up in “Origins”, but that was after her first battle, and she was overwhelmed by her screw-up endangering countless lives in Paris in addition to being a nervous wreck even before she got her Miraculous. But here's the difference: She took responsibility. She realized people were in danger, so she jumped into action to save Alya and Cat Noir. Even then, she acknowledged her failure and felt unsure of herself, with Cat Noir helping to reassure her, showing the emotional support their partnership has.

Adrien, who has been a superhero for months, and has faced some pretty stressful situations, as soon as things head south, he immediately gives up and leaves Ladybug to fend for herself while two separate cities are in danger. And he knows that she has no other allies, because Master Fu ran away at the end of the last season, and Miracle Queen exposed the identities of the other temporary heroes. She has nobody to go to for help. He doesn't even show Ladybug her civilian form to apologize, just so he can't get any flak in his regular life. He just gives Ladybug his ring, and literally runs away.

A wise man once said “With great power, there must also come great responsibility.” Adrien has shown no responsibility at ALL in this special, barring the one moment I mentioned earlier.

It's nothing more than a forced emotional moment that has no buildup. This is basically the same with basically every time Miraculous Ladybug tries to be emotional. The writers think that despite never really having any tension or character arcs in their story, they can just have their characters cry out of nowhere, and suddenly, it's a deep moment? That's not how writing works, idiots!

Back at the hotel, Jess and Aeon are getting chewed out by their mothers (Who are the civilian identities of Majestia and Knightowl), and have a conversation about being superheroes... less than a few feet away from the French students. Though at least Barbara, the civilian form of Knightowl (again, I'll get to that later) calls out Aeon and Jess for their stupid “fake supervillain plan”, so there's that I guess.

So we cut to a press conference where the President of the United States, Camilla Hombee (An anagram of Michelle Obama's name, because Astruc has made it clear what his political views are) advises everyone to stay inside while Techno-Pirate is still an active threat. Why does this seem so familiar? And then she... transforms into a superhero too.

Oh, for the love of-- THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES IS A SUPERHERO?! The person in charge of the country and relations with foreign nations is a superhero too?! If she's the president, why didn't she do anything to stop Hawkmoth?! I get that America doesn't really care about news from other countries outside of America, but you would think that the frickin president, WHO IS A SUPERHERO, would at least acknowledge the existence of a supervillain in Paris as a threat!

GOD, this is stupid! And it only gets worse...

Gabriel sends a car to pick up Adrien, realizing the city was too dangerous (I still don't get the point of sending him here in the first place), causing him to tearfully say that he “wouldn't have minded being stuck here a little longer with a friend like her” before leaving. And then Alya...

Alya: What is wrong with you, Marinette?! Couldn't you see that he was just waiting for you to tell him to stay?!

Marinette: What-? But I...? He...? He made his choice. What did you expect me to do?

Alya: It doesn't matter what I expected you to do! Who's Adrien to you?! A friend or more than a friend?! There will never be a better time to be clear with yourself, Marinette! Do you want him to leave or do you want him to stay?!

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NO. You do not have the right to say ANY of that! It doesn't matter what YOU expected Marinette to do? This whole special, you've been teasing her about her feelings for Adrien, and forcing her into uncomfortable situations with him all because you want your OTP to be a thing. And now you're saying Marinette had a choice the whole time? Marinette expected herself to get over Adrien and start to see him as a friend, AND YOU WOULDN'T LET HER DO THAT! For three seasons, Alya has made fun of Marinette's crush on Adrien, while at the same time, has constantly pushed her into situations where she was clearly uncomfortable around him to the point where she discouraged Marinette for trying to move on in a previous episode (Frozer). And then in this special, she trapped them in a room with a fake supervillain (which is this world's equivalent to pretending to be a terrorist) just to get them to confess their feelings for each other. AND THE WHOLE TIME, IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE MARINETTE'S CHOICE???

If Obilvio didn't make me stop caring about Alya, this was the moment that actually me despise her.

And the worst part? The narrative frames her as being right. This is somehow enough for Marinette to run out in the pouring rain while a supervillain is lose in New York, with nobody even trying to stop her, to chase after Adrien's car, where she tearfully confesses that she still loves him after the car gets away.

What is the point of this exactly? We already knew Marinette liked Adrien last season, her nonexistent character arc was learning to get over him, and now she's supposed to learn she's still interested in him? What about Luka? Are we just going to ignore Luka? What about the fact that Kagami is already in a relationship with Adrien? None of these questions are never explained.

Gabriel finds the lost Miraculous, the Eagle Miraculous, which represents Freedom, and gives it to Techno-Pirate, turning him into Miraclonizer. Using the Eagle Miraculous' power, Liberation, he can undo any mental boundaries someone has, but since he's using it for evil, it basically drives several heroes crazy without their own moral codes. And while I claimed it was an original power in one of my earlier posts, the more I think about it, Liberation is really just a different version of Reverser's airplanes. All they did was just phrase the explanation a different way.

So despite being a city full of superheroes, Miraclonizer manages to drive every hero crazy in a matter of minutes, with the exception of Jess and Aeon. So do none of the other heroes have sidekicks? Is there not even a Young Justice or Teen Titans-esque team in this city? I'm just saying, if they have a hot dog superhero, there should be at least more than two sidekicks in New York.

Aeon goes to search out Ladybug and Cat Noir, and because of some technobabble stuff, Aeon can easily figure out their identities. Again, this was something I already talked about in an earlier post, so I won't harp on this scene. It's a dumb retcon in a special full of dumb retcons, what else can I say?

So Aeon goes to find Adrien on his private plane to give him back his Miraculous... even though wouldn't it make more sense for Aeon to use it instead to save time? I didn't mention this, but right before this scene, Majestia was pushing the moon towards the Earth. Time is kind of the essence here. It also would have saved us more of Adrien's whining.

Uncanny Valley: Cat Noir, New York and Ladybug need you!

Adrien: (looks at where his ring used to be) I'm no longer Cat Noir.

Uncanny Valley: To err is human, apparently!

Adrien: My mistakes are unforgivable. I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes.

“i'M sO tOrTuReD. fEeL bAd FoR mE, dAmNiT!”

Cut it out with Angstdrien Depreste already, writers. It's gotten old.

And despite making a big deal about how much he failed Ladybug, he immediately jumps back into action as soon as he hears a recording of Ladybug saying she needs him. I know it's supposed to be a heartwarming thing by showing him wanting to support his lady, but to me, it just comes off more like he needed an ego boost. He was fulling willing to let Ladybug save the day on her own, but as soon as he heard how important he is to Ladybug, he's more than willing to become Cat Noir again. Because it's not like he could regret his decision to abandon his partner, and realize it isn't too late to make up for his mistake, right? That would imply Adrien is motivated by anything other than his feelings for Ladybug. Then there's the fact that as soon as Cat Noir returns, Ladybug instantly forgives him, despite saying earlier that she didn't trust him. It's almost like that whole debacle was only there to eat up about fifteen minutes of the special's runtime.

Hawkmoth issues an ultimatum to Ladybug and Cat Noir. Miraclonizer is ready to fire a nuclear missile (though the dub calls it a rocket, let's be honest, it's not), fully intending to start World War III unless Ladybug and Cat Noir give up. He's seriously willing to risk making The Day After a reality all for his wife. But remember, you're still supposed to feel bad for this literal war criminal.

Ladybug, Cat Noir, Aeon, and Sparrow manage to get to Miraclonizer's hideout, the Statue of Liberty, and take back the Eagle Miraculous, with Sparrow taking it and transforming into Eagle.

And then there's the design of the new hero's suit. While I'm glad it isn't another skintight jumpsuit, and the wings are a nice touch, people have raised some questions regarding Eagle's design, and how it feels like the animators really want to remind the audience that Jess is Native American. I mean, it looks like what Zack Morris wore in that one episode of Saved by the Bell barring the headdress.

And this might be because I'm a history major, and I just brushed up on this subject in class last semester, but I'm a little uncomfortable with the fact that someone actually thought it was a good idea to give the Native American girl the Miraculous of the Eagle, the symbol of America which represents Freedom. I don't want to go too into detail about this, but, uh... let's just say if you know about the history of the relationship between the Native Americans and the colonists, you'll get why this raises a couple of red flags.

Does this mean I think the showrunners are racist? No, it was an honest, albeit questionable mistake. Do I think this is the worst Native American representation on TV. Oh, hell no. Chakotay from Star Trek: Voyager was a walking amalgam of every Native American stereotype in the book, and was featured in an episode that said, with a straight face, mind you, that Native Americans used to be backwards savages, so a group of white aliens genetically altered them so not only could they survive the Earth's harsh weather, but so they would become more creative, leading to the birth of Native American culture. I apologize to any Native American human being who had the misfortune of learning about that for the first time. But over all, Jess is far from the bottom of the barrel of poor Native American representation.

So Jess uses her powers to calm every superhero down, while Ladybug and Cat Noir de-evilize Technolizer. And of course, Hawkmoth assumes that since there are other lost Miraculous, “they will be his”. Maybe focus on getting the two Miraculous you originally set out to get first, buddy.

So Knightowl and Majestia apologize for their behavior, and we learn that apparently Knightowl and Sparrow have been around for at least since the Wild West, and that the Knighowl and Majestia we've been following have been keeping up the illusion that the original duo are still alive for several generations.

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Was this special written in the 1950's? Why make a big deal out of this? Why is it so important that Knightowl and Sparrow both have a Y chromosome? The president is a woman and a superhero, the strongest superhero on Earth is a woman, and you were just saved by a female superhero all the way from Paris. I don't think people will be afraid of getting cooties from this Knightowl. Hell, we live in a world where if you don't like a female superhero, people automatically hate you. Just ask the people who didn't like Captain Marvel.

We see that Alya still learned nothing, as she continues to tease Marinete for daring to call Adrien her “friend”, as our special mercifully ends with the class sending a picture of a banner to Adrien to show their support... but not before a brief scene where a Guardian tries to take Eagle's Miraculous, before she makes him instantly pull a 180 as soon as she suggests he help to “create a new generation of heroes together”.

I'm guessing this is meant to be yet another tie-in to yet another Miraculous side project that will go absolutely nowhere. You might as well have had Nick Fury, oh, I'm sorry, Mick Flurry, recruit Eagle and Uncanny Valley for the ZAG Initiative.

But it doesn't matter, because the special's over, and once again, I never have to think about it ever again.

So... what else can I say that I haven't already said. This special sucks.

While the animation is honestly some of the best to come out of ZAG, and the action can get pretty good at times, it honestly doesn't really mean much when the story surrounding it is just so abysmal. Basically the only thing I liked about the Season 3 finale was the idea that the status quo was shifting in terms of Marinette's feelings for Adrien, and this special just ruined this interesting idea by the end faster than you can say “the series finale of Quantum Leap”.

Alya is at her most unlikable here with everything she does in this special. Almost everything she says to Marinette is either some catty comment or making fun of her trying to get over Adrien. Because God forbid she actually try to grow as a person and not let her life revolve around a cute boy. It's stuff like this that I genuinely wonder why Marinette even bothers to stay friends with her when all she does is tease her and force her out of her comfort zone. And according to co-director Wilfried “Winny” Pain, Alya is meant to be like Jiminy Cricket to Marinette's Pinocchio. I don't know which version of Pinocchio he read as a kid, but clearly, it's not the version we're mostly familiar with.

I'm still glad they didn't have Cat Noir revert back into his Ladybug-simping self we all knew and loathed in Season 3, but that doesn't mean he's still enjoyable in this special. The angsting about how sad Adrien's life is stopped being interesting years ago, and it's only done as a way to get the audience to care about him, but it comes off more like the writers are holding the audience at gunpoint and demanding they sympathize with him for bailing on the world when they need him the most.

I thought Aeon was a pretty likable character. Maybe it's because I'm a sucker for socially awkward robot characters like Data or Penny. I just wish we got to know her more, and why exactly her mother felt the need to play God by create her instead of just adopting like what Olympia and Barbara presumably did with Jess.

As a matter of fact, despite being played up as a big deal, there's still a lot about the American heroes that we don't really know about. How were the “United Heroes” formed in the first place? How did Majestia get her powers? What exactly is the origin of Knightowl and Sparrow? Why are all the American heroes so open about their identities to the point where the President's identity as a superhero is so well-known she can casually transform on TV? Hell, Ladybug and Cat Noir barely even interact with any of the heroes, and that includes Uncanny Valley and Sparrow/Eagle.

Generally, the special feels very rushed at times, with a lot of ideas not really being utilized. According to Astruc, there was actually a lot of things cut from the special, including a deleted subplot with Chloe and Ms. Mendeleiev. Although, given Astruc's track record, I don't think it would have been a good one given Chloe is involved.

This leads into a personal theory I have regarding this special, that I want everyone reading this to take it with a huge grain of salt. As much as he claims that he can't change anything he's already written, I personally believe that Thomas Astruc rewrote part of this special so Adrienette could get more focus to renew interest in the ship.

Hear me out on this. During Season 3, there were a lot more shipping debates between Adrienette shippers and Lukanette shippers, with the latter gaining more traction that season. It was also the season where other ships like Felinette, Kagaminette, and even Maribat became more prominent. And all of these ships were featured in post-Chameleon salt fics bashing Astruc's sunshine child, Adrien.

So, given how Astruc already dedicated an entire episode to bashing Felix fans, why wouldn't he use something like the New York special to convince the shippers to have more faith in the Love Square? After all, aren't Adrien and Marinette made for each other? Astruc has already said so on his Twitter.

Unfortunately, right now, I like to describe the Love Square as “Shrodinger's Relationship”. While the show can claim that Adrien and Marinette would make a great couple, they simultaneously show no real chemestry happening between the two in favor of Love Square shenanigans. And yes, I'm actually thinking of talking about the Love Square in a future analysis post.

And then there's the fact that Astruc himself said that everything that happened in this special is going to lead into the events of Season 4. What do I have to say about that?

Bring it.

I already talk about Miraculous Ladybug itself on this blog almost as much as I talk about its creator, and since I have a Disney+ account, I might as well subject myself to everything Season 4 has to offer. I've already seen one of my favorite shows go to hell, so why don't I chronicle another one of my favorite shows going to hell as well?

So yeah, as soon as a new episode is officially released on Disney+, expect a review from your boy IOTA.

I survived Season 3, so let's see if the number 4 is as unlucky as some countries say it is.

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awhmilkywey · 4 years ago

Text

burgers and fries | t. carrick |

pairing & genre: tobias carrick x f!mc (ava dahl) — fluffy as hell

warnings: one curse word | english is not my first language

word count: 2.4k

request | prompt | neither | challenge

tags: @usuallyamazinglyaverage ; @perriewinklenerdie ; @cyb3r-kat ; @moonsoltice ; @romewritingshop ; @tsrookie ; @hedwigsbixch

a/n: a special thank you to @usuallyamazinglyaverage @perriewinklenerdie and @cyb3r-kat for allowing me the use of their characters (anna dawson, claire herondale and bianca hemgrove, respectivel) and a bonus to perrie for being generally awesome and helping me out with this fic. You can thank her for the Romeo line!

Ava has a history of flouting protocol to assist her patients.

The machine whirred to life, shooting a steady stream of murky liquid into the small paper cup. Ava skimmed her medical chart while she waited. Her patient was a young adult who came in with severe chest pain and discoloured skin around her calves. The primary doctor wrote down that earlier scans ruled out heartburn as well as pericarditis. She reached for her coffee and took a cautious sip. The blemishes could point towards a blood clot—deep vein thrombosis, perhaps? It could quickly develop into a pulmonary embolism if left untreated.

The nurses' station was relatively quiet when she approached.

“Could you order a lung scan and a chest X-ray for my patient, please?”

Marlene took the chart with a professional nod. Her exhaustion matched her own.

Ava murmured a quiet thank you and tossed her cup in the bin. The results wouldn't be back for a couple hours. If her hunch was correct then she would most likely need to page the surgical department. For now, however, her rounds were finished and she could take a breather.

Her face twisted into a frown as she remembered her bag was still in the conference room. Her confrontation with Harper ensured she had been too uncomfortable to remain there. Ava decided to take the stairs one at a time. Saying she was dreading their next meeting was an understatement. They would need to have a serious conversation with Bloom. Ethan breaching protocol was on him alone. A conversation with Harper was in order as well; earlier she had been caught by surprise but she wouldn't let that kind of treatment stand. Barging in, wrongfully accusing her without any evidence whatsoever, yelling and refusing to believe her even when the culprit was standing right there—Ava wondered when the cool renowned surgeon became an unruly child.

The revelation that Harper still saw her as a reckless intern made her incredibly angry. Her one mistake happened over two years ago and she came forward to shoulder the blame. Ava had grown since then, both as a doctor and as a person. Her near-death experience also served to put things into perspective, to say the least. She would always have the best interest of her patients at heart but she would never again jeopardize her career so foolishly.

That thought brought her back to Ethan. Frankly she didn't recognise him any more. He came back from the Amazon a different man—one she wasn't sure she liked all that much. Their tentative relationship hadn't stood a chance. Him being her attending was difficult enough, then she was facing the possibility of being suspended, and just as she thought they could make it work after all, Naveen promoted her and Ethan was her superior once more. He maintained a painfully professional demeanour around her from there on out. Ava wasn't doing too great during that time.

And when her intern year came to an end, he disappeared. He wasn't answering her calls nor her texts and her trips to his apartment were fruitless. She found out he was out of the country through WHO's Instagram account. She stopped bothering afterwards.

Ava shook her head, red curls bouncing over her shoulders. Dwelling on the past wasn't helpful. Especially when the Ethan from her memories didn't correlate with the Ethan she was currently working with. Her most recent conversations with him left a sour taste in her mouth.

The conference room wasn't as empty as she expected.

“Heading out?” Tobias sent her a warm smile.

“I've some free time to kill.”

He nodded in understanding. “Holding up okay?”

Ava hesitated. It occurred to her that he was the only person she was truly comfortable with on the team. The only one who'd never underestimated her or made her feel lesser.Tobias was the person who either supported her suggestions or countered them with his own logical arguments and used both as teaching opportunities.

“I've been through worse,” she replied, shrugging non-committally.

He scowled. “What Harper did was uncalled for.”

Ava offered him a wry smile. “I have a history, don't you see?”

“Oh you mean the history of being civil to Bloom even though you want to punch his face in?” he asked innocently.

A laugh bubbled up in her chest and he soon followed with his own deep chuckle.

“There's this place downtown.” He sobered up but was still grinning. “One of my favourites, if you want to check it out.”

“What's in it for me?” Ava raised a playful eyebrow.

His eyes darkened, tongue briefly flickering out. “Good music, good books. We could get dinner after.”

Ava swallowed. “Sounds fantastic.”

Tobias' intense look softened. “It's a date,” he said cheekily.

She laughed again and swatted at his arm. “Lead the way, Romeo, before I change my mind.”

Bantering with him was easier than it should've been. Knowing how laid-back he could be when comfortable made her notice more about how he carried himself around the rest of the team. It gave her a small thrill to be able to witness that side of him.

Tobias drove her to a time-worn shop tucked away between a colourful diner and a boarded-up building. An old sign hung over the entrance reading The Starlight Den. The outer walls were covered in messy chalky drawings and splashes of peeling paint, broken crayons and plastic buckets sitting to one side. He laid a hand on her lower back, gently guiding her through the battered wooden door.

“I used to come here all the time as a kid,” he commented, glancing fondly around the shop.

Neutral colours predominated with the occasional vibrant hue flashing here and there. Bookshelves lined the left side, brimming with works from classics to comic books. Customers could settle down on various armchairs and sofas, reading under the light of several dimmed lamps. Ava slid her eyes from the makeshift coffee bar to the vintage posters on the opposite wall. A soft tune drifted from the gramophone in the corner. Neat stacks of vinyl records were arranged in polished boxes in the centre. A counter held several players for general use nearby.

“This is a dream come true,” Ava marvelled, running her fingertips across the book spines.

Tobias hummed, reaching to pluck a comic from the shelf. He presented it to her with a flourish. Spider-Man was holding a man clad in green on the cover.

“First introduction to Spidey. Also the first comic I ever read,” he disclosed, absently thumbing through the pages.

“I didn't know you read comics.”

Tobias cocked his head. “Haven't read them in a long while but they were a big part of my childhood.”

Ava cast a look about. “I can see why you'd like to come here.”

Two teenagers were hanging around a record player, giggling quietly to each other, while a sharply dressed man made small talk with the handsome man behind the register. The overall atmosphere was quite cosy. It felt a bit like home. When she returned her wandering gaze to Tobias, he offered her a knowing smile.

“I have an idea,” he announced with a quick clap of his hands. “We each pick a book and a record for the other. I have a player back at my apartment.”

Ava crossed her arms. “Is this a ploy to get me into your bed, Carrick?”

He raised his palms up in mock surrender. “Absolutely not. Just a ploy to get a pretty woman eating take-out on my couch.”

“From that diner next door?”

“Rosa makes the best burgers and milkshakes in Boston.” He gave a solemn nod, cracking up in the following beat.

Ava contemplated him. “It's a date.”

He lit up with a boyish smile.

She didn't know much about his likes and dislikes given that all their interactions revolved around their work. Browsing the bookcases, she opted to get him a copy of The Little Prince. She remembered her papa reading it to her when she was sick or when grief was heavier than most days. She picked up A Day at the Raceson her way to the counter.

“Don't peek,” Tobias warned after their purchases were done. “I'm going to get our food and then we can head back.”

“I want nuggets.” Ava blushed when her stomach growled.

He patted her head. “As you wish, m'lady.”

Ava watched him walk away, unable to remember the last time she was this happy. Tobias was so carefree. He didn't allow their work to burden him, always trying to finding the silver lining in each case, and refused to let it interfere with his life outside the hospital. It was a breath of fresh air, compared to her previous relationship with Ethan. Tobias was light where Ethan was dark.

The ride back to his flat was mostly quiet. He tapped on the wheel along with the song playing on the radio—she vaguely recognised it as being a new Ariana Grande single. She, on the other hand, was more occupied with staring out the window and trying to control her nerves. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, making her almost want to throw up. Tobias was undeniably attractive, charming and witty. And they were going to be alone at his place.

Ava choked on air.

He was quick to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, hey, I got you.” At her lack of response, he slid his hand further and began to rub her back, eyes briefly leaving the road to look her over.

“I'm good,” she gasped.

His touch continued to burn her skin until the car was parked in his garage.

Tobias' flat was messier than she expected but not in the dirty sense of the word. It was a sort of organised chaos that breathed life into the walls. The coffee table peeked from beneath a mountain of medical journals, two blankets were thrown haphazardly on the couch with a pillow half-fallen on the carpet, like he had dozed off while reading. The telly was still on as well and she paused to watch Jessica Aniston and Matt LeBlanc acting on the screen.

He steered her towards the kitchen.

“I forgot to clean, sorry.” He seemed unusually sheepish.

“Mine's not much better, believe me,” she reassured him, squeezing his arm. She took the food bags from him and set them on the table. “Kitchen or living room?”

“Living room!” he called out from the pantry, coming out with a package of napkins and a container of assorted candy.

He had stored away the blankets and the pillow by the time she brought the food to the coffee table, journals stashed away in the corner bookcase. Ava noticed that he also changed into a looser tee, his biceps highlighted underneath the artificial lighting. He grabbed their purchases from the shop and turned to her with a bright smile.

“I realised we don't actually know each other that well,” he said, grabbing the book from the bag, “and I would like to remedy that.”

Ava accepted the gift, lips quirking up at the sight of the blue cover. “I've never read The Great Gatsby,” she informed.

His smile widened. “Let me know what you think when you're done, yeah?”

“I got you this one.” God she was nervous. “I, uh—I didn't know what you liked so I figured I'd give you one of my favourites. After my mum died... my dad used to read it to me as a kid.”

Tobias met her gaze and she was surprised to see him so serious. “I—Thank you, Ava. It means a lot that you would share that with me.”

She needed to look away. Was he getting closer?

Her stomach growled again.

“Eat,” he murmured, slowly leaning back. “I'll put the records on.”

He returned to the couch as the beginnings of Dancing Queenfilled the room. Ava beamed.

“How did you know?”

He popped a fry in his mouth. “I may have cheated on this one. Claire told me you were a fan.”

The mention of her friend warmed her heart. “I didn't know you and C were buddies.”

Tobias rubbed the back of his neck. “We're not, not really. I, um, went to ask her how you were after what happened. Anna and Hemgrove were gone already, so...”

His concern sent the butterflies into a frenzy. Ava focused on her burger so he wouldn't see the deep red staining her cheeks.

It was only two episodes into Friends that she noticed the missing fries in her plate. An indignant yelp was muffled by the food in her mouth. Tobias blindly reached for another one but she slapped his hand away, earning her a surprised squawk from the man. Ava made a move for his plate and was stopped when he put his arm between them, lifting the other up so she wouldn't touch his food.

“Oi! That's not fair!” she protested, not realising she was half-sitting on his lap as she tried to get her fries back.

“All's fair when you're hungry, sweetheart,” he retorted, laughing at her worthless attempts.

The loud sound of porcelain breaking was unmistakable. In an effort to get closer, she had pressed against his chest, their bodies practically glued together, and the twist of his wrist weakened his grip on the plate. Ava sunk into him in defeat and promptly peeped as her groin made contact with his.

“Shit, sorry Av—nghh...” He cut off with a strangled moan.

Ava hurried to relieve the pressure of her thigh on his crotch, feeling mortified.

“I'm sorry—” “Wait—” they spoke at the same time, both floundering.

“Just—wait.” Tobias held onto her hips, heaving out a frustrated sigh.

She would never admit to anyone that no, she very much did not want to move.

Except maybe to the girls, who would most definitely grill her tomorrow.

They remained in that exact position for a couple silent moments. Neither sure what to say nor how to act upon the revelation that they were entirely too comfortable physically for two people who were supposed to be just work acquaintances.

Up close, his eyes looked more green than brown. Ava told herself that she had bigger things to worry about.

But it was a pretty colour.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he quietly confessed. “I have to know, though. Is—is there anything between you and Ethan?”

She let out a shaky breath, touching her forehead to his. “Not since last year.”

He gave a short nod, raising a hand to cup her face. “Could there be anything between us?”

“Why don't you kiss me and find out?” she whispered against his lips.

She felt his smile before he did.

#tobias carrick #open heart #choices: stories you play #choices open heart #open heart tobias #choices #fanfiction #f: burgers and fries

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puthyflapps · 4 years ago

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Thot about Anya making one of those cheesy promposal signs for Raven. Her plan was to have the sign read, “prom with you would be out of this world” and there would be images of all things space covering the poster board –planets, stars, the whole nine yards. But she wasn’t exactly good at this artistic stuff. Her block letters were sitting rather crooked on the paper and the picture she’d drawn of the moon looked more like a chocolate chip cookie and the rocket ship...well, I shouldn’t say. All in all, it was a real eye sore.

She’d spent way too many hours working on this stupid thing and it was too late to make an emergency trip to the store for more poster board. So, Anya decides the best course of action at the moment is to just flip the board over and start fresh. Now, with a new, blank canvas she gets smart and enlists the last-minute help of her resources. God bless her sister for dating an artist, right?

With Clarke’s help, this thing actually looks presentable and Anya isn't entirely embarrassed to be seen standing outside of their school with it as she waits for her girlfriend to get out of her last class of the day. Anya and Raven were never ones for cliche high school rituals but this was their last prom together so she wanted to make it special. If that means Anya has to stand awkwardly in front of everyone with a giant, dorky sign then she would because Raven deserved to feel special.

The bell rings signifying the end of class and it makes Anya’s heart thump with a dizzying kind of excitement. She keeps her dark brown eyes trained on the doors of the school, searching for her girlfriend’s form. She notices a few familiar faces staring at her in a mix of shock and confusion. If this were any other day she would’ve sent a sharp scowl back their way as a reminder to fuck off but right now, she is too preoccupied with finding her girl. Another minute or so passes when the blonde finally catches a glimpse of a bright red jacket and she knows immediately, that’s her.

Her sweaty hands tighten their grip on the paper as she waits for the girl to get a little closer before hoisting it up in front of her chest for all to see. A few beats pass and Raven still hasn’t quite noticed yet. It leaves Anya momentarily second guessing herself. Maybe this was a dumb idea. What if Raven didn’t want some grandiose gesture for something as simple as a high school dance?However, before Anya’s thoughts can further spiral, she hears the warm voice of the girl she’s been waiting on call out.

“Oh my god!”

Raven’s bright smile is blindingly beautiful and the happy giggles that overflow from her lips are all the confirmation Anya needs to know she did the right thing. She visibly relaxes and it finally feels like she can finally breathe again but there’s still somewhat of an underlying nervousness clawing at her because Raven hasn’t said yes yet.

The brunette takes her time approaching her girlfriend; making sure to take a mental screenshot of this moment so she can tuck it away safely in her mind and revisit it for years to come. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and although it doesn’t seem remotely possible, her smile seems to only grow wider the longer she stares at her adorable girlfriend. Anya doesn’t like to be the center of attention. She’s always been the back-of-the-class, silent observer type. So, to say this was a surprise would be an understatement because this display was certainly an attention grabber.

“Baby,” Raven says as all her words seem to fail her in that moment.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go to prom with me.”

“Yes, of course,” she answers as her hands gently take hold of the sign so she can take an even closer look.

Honey brown orbs meticulously inspect every detail from the nerdy pun to the cute doodles strewn about the board.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she declares and pauses briefly to rise on her tiptoes and place a sweet kiss on Anya’s thin lips before continuing.

“Did you get Clarke to help you?”

Raven asks sweetly as she notices the familiar art style. Personally, she thinks it’s rather cute that her girlfriend reached out to her best friend for help. The idea of the two working together is a little funny considering the two don’t have much in common besides their love for Raven.

“Yeah, blondie’s a little better at this art thing than I am. She drives a hard bargain though. I owe her like a week's worth of Starbucks for doing this,” Anya mutters in faux frustration.

“Aww, well hopefully it was worth it.”

“It definitely was.”

The two stare lovingly at one another for a moment; just basking in each other’s presence and the feeling of contentment.

“Can I keep it?”

Raven asks, her eyes darting down to the paper and back up to her girlfriend.

“It’s all yours. I just wouldn’t look at the back of it if I were you,” Anya replies as the tips of her ears tinge pink.

The brunette’s brows crease and her head tilts in confusion, prompting the blonde to explain.

“I tried to do it by myself at first but it didn’t turn out the way I hoped it would.”

Curiosity gets the best of the girl and she can’t stop herself from turning the poster over to see what has her girlfriend so flustered. On the back are colorful block letters of varying sizes that to someone else’s eye might be unsightly but, to Raven, are nothing shy of gorgeous. Perhaps her favorite part is the random sprinkling of stars throughout the page. They had been erased and redrawn several times if the faint smudges from what was most likely not the best eraser are anything to go on.

“I wish you would’ve used this side,” the shorter of the two says quietly causing the other girl to vehemently shake her head in opposition.

“It wasn’t good enough. I wanted it to be perfect for you.”

“It is perfect,” Raven argues as her eyes trace over all of the girl’s haphazard pencil marks.

Anya presses a chaste kiss to the other girl’s head and chuckles softly, “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“I’m not,” Raven replies earnestly and honestly, “I love it.”

And really, she wasn’t lying. There was not so much as the faintest falsehood coating her words that day. That poster remained taped to her bedroom wall for the rest of the school year. Unsavory lettering and poorly drawn doodles on full display for all to see. Raven even brought it with her when the pair moved into their freshman dorm room despite some hesitance from Anya. When the couple moved into their first home together, she made Anya store it safely away in their attic so that one day, when it was time for their children to enjoy a prom of their own, Raven could proudly show them a little piece of their parents past.

#this was supposed to be a paragraph but i didn’t feel like I could accurately explain the vibe #jfc 💀😂#ranya #raven reyes #anya woods

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sepublic · 4 years ago

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Happy Birthday to The Owl House!

Honestly, I’m… REALLY shocked to think back on how it’s been a year? It’s been a full, actual year, since that first episode?

I remember when The Owl House was first announced around early 2018. Something about it, the premise, the characters from that one poster we got; It really drew me in, and I kept track of the show’s progress in eager anticipation. Whenever Dana released art of Luz, Eda, and King, I was ecstatic- And when the show was delayed to 2020, I was dismayed.

Then we got our teaser trailer; The opening them, the end credits, even a little sneak peek! I remember speculating a lot about Luz and all of the other new characters we were introduced to, such as Willow, Amity, and Gus- And then we got more and more trailers in the days leading up to the show. I wondered about Luz’s home back on Earth and where her family was, I listened intently to the Hooty and the Parliament music video, finding an almost melancholic, weirdly nostalgic (despite having never watched the show yet) vibe to it- Whilst also avoiding looking at the screen and seeing all of the various clips it offered, because I wanted to be surprised! It was two years of anticipation, two years of wait for this show- I’d never looked forward to a series before like this, last I can recall… So having this content FINALLY come out, seeing these characters in animation, hearing their wonderful voices! My soul was vibing, it was time, it was coming after all this time…!

Eventually I finished Infinity Train Book 2, the same day that The Owl House premiered… I was blindsided when I woke up to the first episode’s release online, in full- I was already planning to wait until later to watch it on television, so having it permanently accessible from the internet was such a pleasant surprise! And the show… The show, man- That premiere caught me off-guard with how much I enjoyed it! I knew I was looking forward to this show, but still…! It blew away my expectations, and even now, has continued to; It was like my personal investment and attention had paid off so patiently well! I even got a DisneyNOW subscription so I could watch each new episode ASAP, the day it premiered, hours before it aired on television!

I remember scouring Tumblr before the show officially premiered, and there was understandably very little- A few pieces of fanart here or there. And when the show DID premiere, for a while there wasn’t really much of a fandom- There was barely anyone, in fact! But I can remember a few notable blogs who have been around since the beginning… Me, I got invested into this show. I found myself really enjoying Lumity as a ship, especially since I resonated with both characters in it; Luz was such a ball of sunshine that brightened my day, and Amity really spoke to me with her more introverted, top-scoring personality. When the show hit its mid-season hiatus, I remember not handling it too well, as I got impatient and frantic in my speculations- I wanted so badly to learn more about these characters, see what happened- Get a look at Emperor Belos (then known as Bellows by the fandom), etc.

I wrote my Bile Coven piece in preparation for Halloween, even got to know a mutual or two over shared theorizing! I kept track of Dana’s updates, and even had people come to my blog, of all places, to send asks! It was and still has been such an engaging part of fandom for me… I recall impatiently waiting for the Owl Pellet shorts and freaking out over them- And when Adventures in the Elements leaked early? I LOST MY MIND, I remember postponing something I was supposed to go to, just so I could watch the episode- And it was so good! Then I started wondering and hoping the rest of Season 1 would come out, and well- It took a while…

And when Season 1B’s trailer came out, I was all over it; Scouring every possible frame, freaking out over the Grom screenshot, and appreciating the influx of new fans! It was amazing to watch The Owl House go from a relatively minor and obscure fandom, to becoming so much more mainstream and populous! I got into Rebecca Rose’s channel, I began writing more meta and posts about the show, as well as little recaps for each new episode. I feel like my blog really took off from here, as I got to interact with more and more people who shared this mutual love of The Owl House, and I was so ecstatic to see more content and buzz about it!

My mind was solely focused on The Owl House, it was one of my huge hyperfixations, even moreso than during Season 1A’s run- I remember being anxious about Enchanting Grom Fright, wondering if we’d get queerbaited… But NO, Amity was in love with Luz! She canonically had a crush on her, a girl in love with another girl- And I loved it because Lumity was a special comfort ship of mine! Then Amity was confirmed lesbian… It was amazing! And I found myself SO invested, so inspired by the show and its characters, and all of the little allusions to things, the foreshadowing, the moments here or there that made so much more sense after a new episode.

This show inspired me creatively- It got me to write some of my personal favorite fanfics, and I was and still am so touched by whatever feedback I get from them! The Owl House really got me to write, to obsess over characters and analyze them, to look at motifs, to think about worldbuilding… It’s been such an artistically enriching experience, both the show and the fandom! I remember despairing so terribly when Agony of a Witch came out, the genuine betrayal I had when Lilith revealed the truth- Because I’d been legitimately endeared to her character beforehand, even formed a sort of ‘trust’ in a sense… And like many others, I agonizingly anticipated the season finale, the much-needed emotional reconciliation!

I remember how the episode titles were revealed, bit by bit, and how I and others speculated on what they’d spell out! I remember when the fandom obsessed over the Witch’s Apprentice game and its relics, for clues and new lore after each episode, the little hints here or there! I was freaked out by characters like Belos, who lived up to my hopes and expectations- First being alluded to by name, then his amazing appearance… And then his voice and mannerisms and everything about him! And when the Season Finale came out…

Well, there was relief. But there was a bittersweet emptiness- That it was over! The first season was over! There was a celebratory triumph, of course- We finally wrapped up the first, major arc of the show, the first batch of episodes that had been worked upon, the whole thing now unveiled and appreciated! But I was a little dismayed because a part of me KNEW a hiatus much longer than the previous one was ahead of me, and I did not handle the mid-season hiatus well. Of course, then Dana had her Reddit AMA, and the charity livestream; Both of which NOURISHED me creatively, and have helped to fill out the wait! To carry out my momentum, to not flounder about in hiatus; I invested myself into more meta, into various posts, etc. I read fanfiction that genuinely floored me, obsessed over fanart, etc.

I supported the show’s release on Disney Plus, ecstatic to get this kind of ready access. I revisited past episodes and characters, looking at them in a new light, appreciating things; Like Luz’s relationship with fantasy… King’s surprising development, all of Eda’s little hints and clues. There’s been an emotional catharsis with these characters for me- And I genuinely feel like I’ve been a lot happier lately because of this show! I’ve met so many other blogs and gotten to know them, seen their ideas and displayed mine as we appreciated one another… I even remember doing another blog’s fanart prompt prior to the show’s release, in preparation!

I feel like The Owl House has genuinely given me a new appreciation for meta, for fandom and analysis… For headcanons, for writing my own stories and contributing my own ideas and speculations, etc.! It’s contributed SO much joy to me as a hyperfixation, and rapidly risen through my blog as my most frequent tag! And even as I explore other fandoms and hyperfixations, both then and now, especially to pass on this crippling hiatus… This show holds a VERY special place in my heart for me. It’s really made me feel for these characters, the love and sadness, the excitement and sense of comfort… Its love and emotions, angst and found family, lore and speculation, it hits so hard to me in a way that other media hasn’t!

It’s provided representation- Such as canonically queer characters, or protagonists who speak so well to the neurodivergent experience for many people! I’ve had delight in seeing people suggest Amity as autistic, when before Season 1B, I lowkey headcanoned and saw her as such- So seeing more evidence for this resonated deeply in my heart! I remember all of the discussion about King as a character, the confusion and talk about whether or not he WAS a King of Demons, when that first announcement in 2018 had made a similar claim… I looked forward to Eda and Lilith’s relationship, speculated on who cursed Eda, and remembered when I’d considered the Blights as a potential culprit! I remember thinking about Hooty, wondering what his deal is- And thinking then and now about that Owl Deity mural in the Owl House! Watching Luz’s development as a character and as a witch, seeing her become more proficient with magic until it finally pays off with her squaring up against Belos, and wounding him- I’d never felt so proud of a character and their progress before!

There’s still so many more questions and mystery, lore… as well as just genuine character interactions, to look forward to! I think The Owl House is one of my favorite shows of all time… It’s deeply touched me as a person and creator, and I genuinely strive to create something even close to this one day. This show has inspired me, made me laugh and cry, compelled me to creatively make content; It’s introduced me to a wider fandom that I genuinely feel like a part of, had me meet other mutuals… It really is something special to me. And while I am eager for Season 2, I also want to appreciate what Dana Terrace and her crew have already established. I love this show’s art style and animation, the designs and overall weirdness of its characters- I love speculating and thinking about them, getting more and more details, and so forth.

If it’s for a better product, I’m fine waiting for Season 2. And honestly, I love what we already have, and I’ve done a lot with so many people. I’ve even looked over supplementary materials and stuff posted by the crew or news articles, in my need for content… And I love every bit of update, art, and/or acknowledgement of the show’s hiatus, and Season 2’s development! There’s so much to look forward to… And there’s so much that I’ve enjoyed, after plenty of anticipation!

Thank you @danaterrace, and everyone who worked on this- For everything. It really is crazy to reflect on this entire year, to realize it’s been a full year since that first episode, since that first premiere that lit up my world like Luz’s light spells; And it feels like such a milestone that we’ve reached! I look forward to what comes next, and I also intend to keep appreciating and cherishing what we’ve already gotten. Here’s to this show’s second year, people- It’s been such a journey to look back on and remember each step, each phase, each particular moment and stage… And I can only imagine what will come next! This show has SUCH a special place in my heart, and has made me feel in so many ways I haven’t before!

Happy Birthday, The Owl House! You’ve earned it!

#the owl house #toh #owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house king #lumity #happy birthday #dana terrace #ramblings #nostalgia #meta

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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years ago

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There is no such thing as vampires #1 || Jurdan AU

Jurdan Smut Week 2020 • DAY 2

The prompt was technically dagger play...it didn’t really worked that way but HEY more smut! (vampire smut cough)

@jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Rating: E (no I don’t mean ‘everyone’)

Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of blood, some biting (it’s a vampire au c’mon), swear words (just in case)

Summary:

Behind me stands a tall, slender man dressed in black trousers and one of those puffy white shirts men always use in period TV dramas. Raven curls frame the sharp angles of his face and his pale skin resembles marble. I stare at him unsure if my eyes widen because of the scare or how good looking he is. Maybe both.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying.

Extra comments: Just because I’m extra af, I’ll leave you the ambience music videos I listened while writing this. In case you’d like to hear them while reading:

Rain in a forest at night - Haunted Mansion/rain/thunder/wind - Narnia Lullaby

Written for: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 MA’AM AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR ALL THE HELP AND SUPPORT, FOR BETAING THIS UNENDING PIECE AND FOR HELPING ME CRAFTING THE IDEA FOR IT! ❤️

Part 1 || Part 2

Masterlist • AO3

“Please tell me again why are we doing this?” I ask for the third time, leaning to rest my head on my sister’s shoulder. We bounce as the uncomfortable van we travel in turns to a cobbled path, leading us deeper into the woods.

“Because,” Vivi hisses back. “Your little brother is currently in his Twilight-obsession phase, and he just broke up with his girlfriend so we’re trying to cheer him up!”

“He’s 9! And they lasted like, what? Four hours?”

In that moment, Oak turns violently from the front seat, scowling at me. “First of all Jude, we were together two full days ok? She was the love of my life and suddenly she’s not sure about us anymore? Now I shall never find love again! I might have to become a priest. I expect a little consideration.”

Vivi ruffles his hair affectionately. “We absolutely understand, your sister here doesn’t have an ounce of romance in her veins but of course she supports the cause.”

That said, he returns to his place. I bite my lip hard, trying not to laugh. Typical Oak. I love my brother I really do, even if half of the time I can’t understand his dramatic outbursts.

Sighing, I stare through the window, to the heavy clouds gathering on top of us. Great. We are probably far away from the highway by now, nothing more than trees, rocks and occasional wild animals around. For some reason, our father had thought that there was no better way of fixing a kid’s broken heart than going on a quest in search of legends and hidden castles.

The thing is that apparently, it works. Instead of an incessant whining about love being doomed, my brother spends the days throwing the most random facts about werewolves, vampires, ghosts and any impossible creature. To be honest, I don’t think wikipedia and the Twilight books are a reliable source, but if it makes Oak happy I could live a couple of days with it. And most importantly if I have to choose between this or spending the week back at home with my mother and twin sister going to tea parties for old ladies, well, the answer is very clear.

I remember reading a few books about myths when I was younger. When I turned fifteen, I developed a hard crush on Brad Pitt after I saw Interview with the Vampire, filling half of the walls in my room with posters of him. Even now ten years later, I actually enjoy talking about old folklore and legends, urban myths and stuff like that.

What bugs me, are the fraudulent morons who want to take advantage of Oak’s naive curiosity to engage us in the most ridiculous tours that were obviously a waste of money. So far, we’d entered three “museums” where most of the so-called relics were made of plastic, and a haunted house with special effects so poorly done, father had discreetly asked for his money back. Only another two of the places we visited were actually interesting, but since the guides spent most of the time flirting with Vivi or me, it had annoyed our father.

Now though, we are driving behind the car of an old couple who swore their ancestors owned a castle where true vampires had lived once. The sole mention of the word “castle” was enough to make Oak hang from our father’s sleeve begging to go.

I’m not going to lie, it is an intriguing idea. But I remain a little worried about how much money Madoc is ready to pay before he hurries his little son back to his fantasy books and videogames.

“Dad, did you know that vampires like to live in the woods because it allows them to make racing competitions without being interrupted?” Oak asks with enthusiasm.

Madoc gasps. “Do they? Is it because they’re so fast?”

Okay, he might be willing to pay more than I thought. Next to me, Vivi muffles a laugh and keeps taking pictures for her instagram, occasionally asking for my help.

Upon arriving at the castle I have to suppress a curse. This, now, is a real castle. Nothing like the pitiful buildings we’d visited before. It is huge, made of pure stone and a modest wooden bridge that connects the entrance with the spot where the cars park. A slight fog covers the sides of the castle giving it a creepier look.

A shiver goes down my back. I turn to find my family who are all equally gaping at the place in front of them. Oak is visibly shaking with excitement. Vivi shoots me an astonished look before taking my brother’s hand and following the couple across the bridge.

The first thought that pops into my mind is that this place must have been taken out from a movie. Or set up for one. Maybe this is one of those pranks for TV. There is no other explanation for the massive room we find behind the giant front gate. Every inch of the walls is covered by paintings, several images barely recognizable through the dust. Aged furniture rests under dust and spiderwebs, pointing out they haven’t been used in quite some time. The illumination doesn’t help either. Electric lights hang from a few spots on the walls, though not enough for the big space, which I suspect is the reason that long candles are lit up too.

My next thought is that I should’ve brought my sweater. The damn place is freezing.

“Phew, sorry about the dust!” The old man says, flashing an embarrassed smile to us. “We were not planning to have any visitors yet.”

“You said this is going to be a museum?” Madoc asks, carefully surveying the walls. Next to him, Vivi tightens her hold on my brother’s hand to prevent him from starting to run around. I swear his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets.

“It will indeed! This place has been in our family for generations, but since it’s hard to adapt it to modern technology it was abandoned.” He turns to Oak and winks. “Not to mention the creepy things that happen here all the time.”

His gaze widens. “What kind of things?”

“Well, some distant relatives used to try spending their vacations here. But after a couple of days they left in a big rush, claiming some strange force had commanded them to go away.” With a lower voice, he adds. “They also mentioned noises coming out from empty rooms and dark hallways. Steps. Shadows that followed them along the place.”

For a second everyone remains silent. The only noise I can hear is the wind outside and the start of a slight rain. Somehow my hands are even colder.

“The legend says,” The woman, whose name is Marrow if I remember it correctly, continues while taking one chandelier with her hand. “This was the hideout of ancient vampires, how many, we don’t know. But they didn’t appreciate people trying to live within their domains.”

“So why come here at all?” Vivi asks. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“It might be.” She shrugs. “But that’s half of the fun, isn’t it?”

“We like to think we’ve found a safe way to open this castle to the public without taking any risks. We will use a part of it as a museum, to show some of the family relics. But be aware, no one is allowed to go further than the marked area.” He signals at the yellow tape stuck on the floor forming arrows.

“If you please...” Marrow says, motioning at the stairs where the markings start.

They get me for a moment, not gonna lie. The surroundings and the way they speak are creepy enough to make me doubt my beliefs for a second. I shake my head to clear those thoughts away and walk behind my family. There’s no such thing as vampires or haunted castles.

We go through passages. Madoc has to remind Oak to not touch anything, constantly. From what I see, he’s living his best day. Several counters line up side by side against the wall. Some of them contain jewelry, others weapons, old writing pens among other things. Most of them carry a family shield, although it’s too blurry to properly identify what it says.

The rain thickens outside and Marrow keeps talking. She tells the story of her so called ancestors, whose family were big enough to fill all the rooms in the castle. Elwen, Eldred… something like that, and his many wives had once lived here. Along with his abounding children. I see in Oak’s face the intention to ask about how that family arrangement worked but Vivi gives him a slight pull of his hair.

I would have thought our guides would try to keep a proud name for their so-called ancestors. But they don’t. In fact, she seems particularly interested in explaining how Eldred’s cruel and terrible nature brought him nothing but disgrace. His once prosperous castle and assets were gone little by little. He claimed he was under the effects of a curse, but no one dared believing him. At least not until people started disappearing.

I stop listening at some point, focusing my attention on the relics in front of me. I’ve always felt a significant attraction to weapons, but not the ordinary ones like guns or rifles. These ones though, such beautiful daggers and swords. I’d give a kidney just to hold one of them.

On the next shelf books pile one next to the other, the dust around them a clear sign of how long they’ve been unbothered. All except for one. The navy blue cover has almost no dust at all, yet it looks like it would fall apart with a gentle blow of wind. The title is partially gone, probably through time.

I turn my head to my family but they’re gone, probably to another corridor since I can still hear the muffled voice of Marrow and my brother. Would she care at all if I check out that book?

I bite my lip. As long as it doesn’t break it’s probably alright. Standing on the tip of my toes I reach for it.

“That is an excellent book.”

I shriek and whip around, my hand flies to my mouth trying to cover the embarrassing sound. The book falls open next to my feet.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying. “My personal favorite. Too bad the author was a poisonous bunch-backed toad.”

My mouth opens to apologize, but I only manage to let out a strangled. “Shit”

The stranger lifts an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Sorry, I- that wasn’t what I meant to say.” I stutter. I feel as if my heart has jumped to my throat. “I wasn’t trying to steal the book.”

“I did not say you were.” He answers, his voice is like velvet.

I nod and take a deep breath. “I came in with my family. Marrow is showing us the place.”

His dark eyes wander down my body, but not like one of those rude men on the streets. No. Something in his gaze feels feral, like an animal sizing up his prey. A strange urge to run pools in my stomach, yet at the same time my muscles seem to have forgotten how to do so.

He looks me in the eyes again and it’s all gone. I let go of the tension in my back and a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When he smiles again, I feel as if I could trust him. Why shouldn’t I?

“And are you enjoying the tour?” He bends to pick up the book I’d dropped before and puts it back on the shelf. His movements are fluid and carefree. I doubt I’ve ever seen such elegance in a simple action. It is unsettling as much as it is attractive. Then I realize I’m supposed to answer.

“Yes, this is amazing actually.” I look around and take in the aged stone of the walls and ceiling. In that corridor there’s only one electric lamp, the rest is only lightened by candles. I can see our shadows dancing along to the flames. “All of this really helps getting in the ‘mood’.”

“The mood?”

I look at him and notice his tilted head. “Yeah you know, the mood of enchanted castles and old legends. This is well put enough that a credulous person would believe any story. Marrow is pretty good at it too.” Motioning a hand to him I add. “They even have their own actor.”

A thunder roars outside. “I beg your pardon?”

I roll my eyes and flash him a smile. “You don’t really have to keep the charade with me. I’m not some schoolgirl.”

“Yet I managed to pull a scream out of you, didn’t I?” The way he says it feels as if he was talking about an entirely different subject. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

“That was… not the same.” I mumble. “I didn’t hear you approaching. That could scare the living hell out of anybody.”

“I have been told I am quite sneaky, I concede you that.” He nods. “Why don’t I give you the rest of the tour? As an apology, of course.”

He’s doing his job, I remind myself, he’s not flirting with you.

“You haven’t even told me your name.” I say. “If we’re roaming around a castle together I should at least know who’s guiding me.”

That sounded an awful lot like flirting. Dammit.

“Cardan, at your service madam.” The tone he uses feels like a caress, he bows his head in a way I’ve only seen in movies. He takes his role seriously. I almost chuckle, but the sound dies in my throat.

“Cardan.” I repeat, just for the pleasure of doing it. “My name is Jude.”

He straightens. “Delighted to meet your acquaintance.” He answers and offers me his arm. “Shall we, Jude?”

I can’t believe how far away my family has gone. Cardan and I walk through a couple of corridors and still there is no trace of them. Did we take that long talking?

He’s an excellent guide, I have to acknowledge that.

While Marrow uses a tone of suspense and mystery, Cardan has this melancholy in his voice that sounds as if he’s talking about a memory. It’s bewitching. He also drops the most ridiculous “facts” about the people on the paintings. I refrain myself from asking if inventing things is allowed for employees, because saying that the girl with the pearl necklace enjoyed to play on the beach while saying she was the Princess of the Sea, certainly sounds like it.

“If you bite your lip one more time, I am going to do it for you.”

My heart skips a bit and I let go of my lower lip. I hadn’t realized I was tugging it. It’s an unconscious habit. I turn to him and I find his gaze different, hungry. It sends a shiver down to a place I know it shouldn’t. He arches an eyebrow as though he notices it.

“Is that a thing vampires like to do?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. The last thing I want him to know is that for the last twenty minutes I’ve been listening to him speak wishing he put a different use to that wicked mouth of his.

His gaze doesn’t change. “It is a thing I would like to do.”

I am pretty sure my expression is giving me up by now. Knowing my traitorous body, I’m probably flushed, my mouth open in awe. Desire coils inside me.

At my lack of answer, he continues. “Why don’t I show you something vampires really like to do?”

He walks back without letting go of my hand. I notice he steps out from the marked section and into a forbidden corridor.

The sensation returns, the one that is telling me to run. The problem is that I don’t know whether to run away, or straight to it. My mind wants both and my body, only one.

“You’re going to the restricted area.” I’m partially surprised by how breathless my voice sounds. “You can’t go in there…”

Cardan pauses and a confused expression crosses his face. A second later, it returns to his charming and teasing smile. “Are you afraid?”

I am.

Yet, I don’t care. I walk into the shadows with him.

As we cross the passage darkened by the lack of chandeliers I tell myself this is a terrible, terrible idea. The way he devours my mouth the moment a door slams shut behind us, convinces me it is the best.

Cardan pushes me against the wall, the cold temperature of the stone goes through my clothes making me gasp. He takes the opportunity and kisses me harder, his tongue explores my mouth with such deliciousness I have to bite back a moan.

My fingers are tangled in his hair pulling him closer to me, if such a thing is even possible. His hands are everything but still. They roam intensely from my breasts, down my sides and finally to my rear, where he grabs me, pressing me against his pelvis. I hear him groan and the sound makes something clench inside me.

Before I can double-think about it, one of my hands lowers to rub his hardness, still hidden behind his trousers. His breath hitches. He pulls back a bit and whispers to my ear. “Needy little human.”

I frown a moment, something about his words not clicking inside my brain but whatever it is I forget it the moment he slides his cold hands under my jersey. I yelp at the sensation, not sure if what flutters down my back is a result of the temperature or the eagerness which he’s holding me with. When he reaches my bra I hesitate for a moment. Cardan pauses too and leans back to stare into my eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” His voice is throaty and charged with desire. Still, he doesn’t make a move, waiting for my answer.

An instinctive part of me knows this is something I shouldn’t be doing. But that’s definitely not any close to me wanting to stop. Without removing my eyes from his I take the hem of my jersey to pull it over my head. The piece of fabric hits the floor, but neither of us pays attention to it. Once again Cardan’s gaze roams me in that predatory way.

I don’t stagger this time.

When my bra falls to the floor too, I take his hand and guide it to my jean’s button. “Do I look like I want to stop?”

Without hesitation he yanks the button open and slides his hand inside to cup the apex of my thighs. The contrast of my warm skin against his coldness makes my hips buck. Cardan buries his other hand in my hair and tilts my head back. I can feel his lips nipping down my jaw and my neck. A moan escapes my lips as he swipes a finger along my heat. He hums in response, the vibrations of it against my neck makes my eyes roll back.

He continues his ministrations until he feels me wet enough to slide a finger inside, he curls and pulls out. Then back inside. My breath comes out in elaborated pants as he quickens his pace. My hands almost finish unbuttoning his shirt when he slides another finger through my folds, his movements turn fast and punishing. Wet sounds taint the silence around us. As pleasure takes full control of my body I cling to him like a life saver, trying to muffle my moans.

“Let go Jude, let go for me.” He breathes next to my ear. My back arches and I sob a curse, writhing down on his hand.

He slows down as I come back from my orgasm, but never stops. Despite the freezing surroundings a drop of sweat runs down my chest. My heart beats as if I just ran a marathon. Cardan’s lazy moves continue, frequently grazing that spot that makes me mewl.

I hear him sigh. “You smell so good.” He claims my mouth one more time and bites me hard enough to make me wince. His tongue caresses my lower lip and a warm throb expands through my veins. He freezes and pulls back, releasing me. I stare at him in confusion, or at least as much as I can manage giving my current state.

He pants a couple of times before looking up at me. There’s a fiercess in his eyes that would’ve been scary under normal situations, right now, it only makes me want him more. He swallows before finally speaking. “If we go further, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice is like sandpaper.

My body seems to work on its own account, as I move to cup his face between my hands. “I already told you.”

“Jude…” He warns me, but I interrupt him joining my lips to his.

“I want this.” I breathe into his mouth. Cardan lets out a defeated groan before pulling my body back against his. Either he’s been holding back or it is until that moment that I realize how strong he actually is. He kisses me like a starved man and I can feel my pulse rise once again.

Soon his shirt joins my other clothing. My fingers trace his chest and torso, marveled at the softness of his skin. I mimic him moments before and kiss his neck. A low sound that almost resembles a growl comes out from his throat. My hands travel lower.

Somehow I manage to free his raging erection from his trousers, closing my hand around him. He hisses and then tilts his hips up to my touch. I start pumping him with unsure movements before gaining confidence to do it harder, tighter. Now it’s his turn to curse. Even though it sounds like something taken out from a Shakespeare novel, it makes my core pulse.

Cardan grips the hem of my jeans strong enough that for a moment I fear he’d rip them away.

“Take these off.” He demands instead.

I’m not sure of how I manage to do it. My mind feels blurred with a mix of sensations. Disoriented, not sure about exactly how my body is doing all of that, and the bliss of knowing I’m enjoying every second of it.

Before the air hits my skin, Cardan lifts me from the ground. My legs circle his waist in a reflexive move. His lips quirk in approval. Then my back is once again pressed against the wall, making me arch in a failed attempt to avoid touching the cold stone. A sound leaves my mouth, though it is not clear if it’s a protest or a moan. I hear him chuckle in my ear and I turn my head, searching his lips.

His kiss is slower but still deep. I feel as if small electric sparks are tickling every single one of my nerves. More, I need more. Cardan holds me in place with his hips, letting his hands wander up and down my legs.

The tip of his shaft is grazing my core over the thin fabric of my remaining piece of clothing, with an aching slowness that is not enough to ease my thirst. More.

I might have said that out loud because Cardan’s hips grind faster against me. It feels so good. And yet, it’s not enough.

I whine his name like a plea.

He continues for a couple of torturing seconds before reaching between my thighs again. There’s no teasing now as he moves my panties aside and immediately sinks his fingers inside me, pumping in and out with a pace that has me gasping in no time. He murmurs something I can’t understand and lines himself up to my entrance.

With soft, deliberate movements he slides through my heat, letting me feel every inch of him until he’s completely filling me. Then he stills. My muscles twitch around him, trying to adjust to the invasion. The exquisiteness of it is making my head swoon.

Cardan grabs my jaw and locks his gaze with mine. I can imagine what he’s looking at. Hooded eyes and flushed skin, though he doesn’t let me think a lot about it as he starts to move. Slow at first, with careful strokes that quickly evolve into long and deep. My mouth falls open at the sensation and my eyes shut.

“I warned you.” I hear him pant. “That there was no coming back.”

A whimper escapes my lips. I’m not even sure I’m actually trying to say something. He doesn’t seem to care either and leans to whisper to my ear. “You are mine now, Jude.”

There is something in the way he says it, his words carrying some compelling implication I can’t fully catch. His lips trail down my neck and I want to answer. To tell him that I am, that after the way he’s taking me, how could it be otherwise?

That’s when I feel a sharp stinging pain on the base of my throat.

I cry out and try to shake it away but whatever it is won’t let me go. Cardan’s words echo at the back of my mind, Needy little human.

As if sensing my thoughts he grabs my thighs and opens them wider, he thrusts into me harder and faster. Everything mixes in sensation. Pain leaves as fast as it came, leaving behind it that throb in my veins I can’t really explain. It is more intense now, what I felt as warm now is scorching. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, I’ve never felt so exhilarated before in my life. I don’t want it to stop.

Cardan sucks on my neck again and I moan his name. Without realizing it, I’m on the brink of another orgasm. I only realize it because he groans when my legs start to shiver around him. I cling to his neck and his hair. If I’m pulling too hard I can’t really know. A familiar swirl comes up from my core to the rest of my body as I spasm around him. It takes me a moment to notice the broken moans and sobs I hear come from my own mouth.

He keeps going a little longer until his fingers tighten over my skin, surely leaving bruises on both thighs. Muffled moans ring against my skin as he comes, thrusting in a couple of times more before stilling. A warm sensation covers the place where we join together. His mouth lets go of my neck. I grunt and shiver.

He puts me down carefully, still holding my waist, which is good considering I don’t know if I’m able to stand by myself. I feel dizzy. Cardan lowers his lips to mine one more time. He’s slow and gentle as though he’s worried. There is a slightly metallic taste in his tongue but I don’t pay attention to it. I trace the fine features of his face with trembling fingers. Little by little my senses start to take in the surroundings, the cold.

The place rumbles with another crack of thunder.

“You have to go back.” Cardan says, barely pulling his lips apart. Go back. I frown, then images of my family crash in my mind. I look around searching for the door, there is something�� on the floor. I realize soon those are my clothes. Shit. The tour, Oak. How much time have I been gone?

I dress in a hurry, not really caring if I put on my jersey correctly. He does the same but with the calm an elegance he has.

Panic must be written in my face because he grabs my chin and turns me to him. “Hey. Calm down.” He soothes me. Then his tone changes, turns commanding. His eyes are darker too. “Listen to me. You are going to do exactly as I say, do you understand Jude?”

I want to ask why, but for some reason I only nod. Cardan grabs my hand and pulls me out of whatever room we were in. “You must follow this passage until you find a way to turn left. Then continue until you see a painting of a black snake then turn right, you cannot miss it or you will get lost. Walk straight, and you will be back to a safe area.”

“But-” I start. I don’t want to go alone. And I don’t understand why but I don’t want to separate from him either. Which is nonsense, I barely know him and still...

He interrupts me. “I cannot go with you, I have lost so much control already and I don’t think…”

“Cardan, I can’t-”

A growl echoes in his chest and he pulls me closer to him. While his voice is still hypnotizing it sounds threatening now. “You will not tell anybody about what you saw here. Now go if you intend to leave this place alive.”

Then he's gone. I can’t recall if I blinked or turned, because a moment before I could still touch him and now he vanished.

I take a deep breath and start walking. Focus. Go straight, then turn right. Or was it left?

All passages look the same, some spaces don’t even have a painting or anything at all to help me differentiate them. Sometimes I whip around, thinking I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. Distant rain is the only sound that is a constant companion, but even with it I’m able to hear an echo of every step I give. It unsettles me more with every minute that passes. Although I feel more in control of my body than before, my knees falter constantly and a sensation of tiredness slides over my mind.

I find the snake painting just as I’d started to think I would be trapped here forever.

It’s huge, and despite the years that have probably passed the scales still seem to shine. The head is painted in an angle that gives the illusion of the eyes following the person looking at it. It doesn’t help that the candle’s flames also make the snake look as if it’s moving. Stalking. Before noticing, I start hyperventilating. I shut my eyes close and turn away. Something is terribly wrong with me, I need to get out.

Turning right, I start running. I cover my ears fearing that if I don’t, I’ll start hearing the snake’s hiss behind me.

I cross an arch made with the same stone and stop right in my tracks upon realizing somehow I’m back at the room where we first arrived. I blink to adjust my eyes to the change of light, since here’s where all the electric lamps are. The room is empty though.

I’m not sure of what I am supposed to do now. Sit and wait? Go out to the car?

While I’m weighing my options, trying to choose any that doesn’t imply dropping myself on the floor to have a panic attack, I hear murmurs and steps getting closer.

“Jude!” My little brother yells and runs to me. Behind him, Vivi scans me like she’s trying to find something wrong. I straighten my back and put on my best calmed face.

“Where were you?” She demands. “We lost you hours ago! Are you ok? You look pale.”

Always such a mother hen, I sigh. “I’m fine. I fell behind and lost y’all. Then... I guessed it would be better to just… return here.”

I try not to frown at my last words, since I didn’t fully intend to say them. You will not tell anybody about what you saw here.

“Jude knows how to take care of herself.” My father adds. I could hug him, but we’re not exactly the affectionate type. So I just flash him a smile.

Vivi does not look convinced but still stands down. “I guess so. The weather did a mess with your hair though.” A flash of Cardan’s fingers pulling from it to gain access to my neck sends a shiver through my body. Had that really happened just minutes before?

Before I can answer, Marrow calls for us. We turn to find her standing next to a big set of paintings that apparently were covered with a curtain. “You cannot leave without meeting the royal family.”

The canvases are ordered to mimic a family tree. A man with a severe expression rests at the very top. Eldred, I assume. Just by looking at it I feel judged. I can’t imagine what was like to actually live with him. The pictures of his wives look all so different but under them, their sons do have resemblance to one another. A weird sensation tickles my fingers as my gaze continues travelling over the paintings. Finally, I get to the last one. Once more, I cover my mouth to avoid an undesired sound.

Staring back at me I see Cardan.

I don’t care if it’s a painting, there is no way I could not recognize those features. Those lips.

“A big family, I see.” Madoc’s words seem so far away.

Marrow hums in agreement. “The Greenbriars always felt proud of their vast offspring. Such attractive sons and daughters. It’s a shame the curse took most of their lives all those centuries ago.”

“Did he…” I start, without knowing how to continue.

She approaches me to look at the canvas. “Ah, young master Cardan. He was the last one of Eldred’s children.” Then a frown appears on her face. “There was a lot of controversy regarding his death. Some say he died because of the curse, some others say he was the curse. The books all have different versions.”

“That sounds creepy as fuck.” Vivi says.

“Creepy as fuck.” My brother mimics her, the thoughtful expression on his face makes him look ridiculous. We cackle as Vivi shouts Oak he’s not supposed to say bad words.

By the time we get out of the castle the rain has decreased to a drizzle.

Madoc carries Oak on his shoulders, listening to his non-stop squeals of excitement after visiting what he calls ‘a real vampire hideout’. This time, I don’t find the words to contradict him. Vivi is the first one to get to the car, shouting back some nonsense about the Greenbriars needing a protection hex.

The moment I step down from the bridge something shifts in my head and I feel as if I had just woken up.

Perhaps it is me who needs a protection spell after all.

Before closing the car’s door, I turn to the castle one more time. Marrow and her husband wave at us from the front gate.

A dull ache throbs on the base of my neck and my hand flies to the spot. I retrieve it and see blood staining my fingers.

My heart misses a beat when I lift my gaze to the upper windows, where a tall figure with white shirt and dark hair is looking right back.

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