#not too notably but there's definitely a shift | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katsu28 · 10 months ago

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home is wherever you are

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out! (hint: it isn’t a very good one.) (5k)

warnings: angst with a happy ending, a smidge of google translated french lol

a/n: CHARLES LECLERC!!! CHARLES LECLERC!!!!LECLERC!!! LECLERAUGHCOUGHCOUGH

“I still cannot believe you’re abandoning me.”

Charles shoved another box of your things into the boot of your car rather huffily, as if to reiterate just how unhappy he was.

“I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving out of your apartment.” You sighed, rolling your eyes playfully at him. You passed him the last box off the ground, wiping your hands off on your shorts before propping them on your hips.

“That is quite literally the same thing.” He mirrored your stance in total seriousness, frown unwavering. “And it’s not my apartment, it’s yours now too. Your home.”

You’d been living with Charles for a while now, having been suddenly evicted from your own place three, almost four years ago. With nowhere else to go, you’d turned to your best friend, and Charles had welcomed you with open arms, giving you a home when you’d needed it most.

There were many good things about living with Charles—he liked to cook (which boded well with you, seeing as you were no master chef yourself. Except for when he’d gone through a questionable phase of combining cuisines that did not go well together.), he was respectful of set boundaries and agreed upon rules. You had the same taste in shows and movies, which made for little fighting when it came to deciding on what to watch.

But most notably, he loved to play the piano. It was a hobby he’d picked up during long days spent staying at home, and he was good at it too. An electronic keyboard when he’d first started out, just to see if it was something he was serious about, but as he zoomed through the basics with ease, he’d splurged on a gorgeous white piano that stood proudly in the living room.

Soon enough, it wasn’t unusual for the apartment to be full of music, beautiful songs of Charles’ own composing.

He played whenever he had the feeling. Whenever he had something on his mind, whenever he was bored, anything, he’d spend hours at the piano, playing, playing, playing. Some might’ve called it annoying, but not you. You found it rather soothing.

It had very quickly become a habit of yours to fall asleep listening to Charles play. Something about it seemed to always relax you just enough to the point where you could pretty much fall asleep anywhere if he was at the bench.

Your favorite spot was on the sofa with a big blanket, watching him get lost in the notes until you drifted off. More often than not, you could rarely get a good night’s sleep without Charles’ accompaniment—your very own version of white noise.

But truth be told, this past year of living together with Charles had been trickier than the first couple. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment things began to change, but something had definitely shifted between you.

You’d been trying to write it off just the two of you being very close, but you’d been dancing on the line of close friends and more than friends for a long time. Falling asleep together cuddled on the sofa, lingering touches whilst you were in the same room and in passing, hugs that lasted a little too long to be considered normal.

The more your feelings for Charles grew, the more worried you became. Worried about what, you weren’t exactly sure. All you knew was you didn’t want to lose the longest and best friendship you’d ever had because you went and fell in love.

“I know. But I think it’s well past time I get out of your hair and try being on my own for once.” You said softly, stepping in to fold yourself into Charles’ arms.

Most of that was true. You did feel like you needed to live by yourself for a chance, to see what it was like to be fully independent in your adult life. You’d moved in with Charles when you were twenty two, and you were twenty five now. It was time for you to venture out on your own.

But the uncertainty of falling in love with your best friend was definitely also a contributing factor.

He made a displeased sound at your words, but tucked you under his chin nonetheless. “I don’t want you to get out of my hair. My hair likes it with you here.”

“I live fifteen minutes away, Cha. I’m not moving across the country. You and your hair can come over anytime.” You scoffed, giving him a gentle poke in the ribs. “And I’ll come over here all the time too, you know that.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know what I am supposed to do with your empty room now, but I’ll figure it out. Maybe I will take up scrapbooking. Knitting. Needlepoint, maybe. Turn it into a craft room.”

“Maybe you can turn it into a music room. Move the keyboard in there, your piano.”

“Ah, bien entendu, my piano. How will you ever fall asleep without my sweet, sweet melodies?”

“I think I will manage just fine.” You chuckled.

Charles held you at arms’ length, dark brows furrowing as he scowled. “What I’m hearing is you don’t love me anymore.”

Oh, if only he knew.

You smiled instead, patting his cheek good-naturedly. “Come on, you drama queen. I want to move in before the sun goes down.”

Charles went full protection mode the second all your belongings had made it safely inside the apartment, intently checking every lock, window, door hinge, cabinet—not an inch of the apartment went uninspected by him. When he seemed fairly satisfied with his safety checks, he returned to where you were unpacking kitchen items over by the oven.

“Everything up to your standards?” You asked, pulling out a stack of plates wrapped in brown paper. Charles shuffled over, easing them out of your hands and unwrapping them to help put them up in the cabinet. “No one is going to break in through my window tonight?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He grumbled, chucking the balled up paper at you gently. “Everything I checked is fine. You will be safe here.”

Food was simple when it came time for dinner—takeout on the floor of your living room, because you hadn’t had the time to go shopping for a coffee table yet. Or a dining room table. Or even chairs, really. All you had were some pillows and an overturned cardboard box to put the food on.

Charles had insisted on helping you furnish the whole place before you moved in but you’d declined, saying that you wanted to get a feel for the place before filling it with everything. The last time it would be this empty would be the day you moved out.

He seemed a little quiet the rest of the night, but you didn’t press it until after dinner, whilst he was helping you with the washing up. Well, helping was a strong word.

“You’ve been drying that plate for ages now.” You observed, tilting your head at him thoughtfully. Charles inhaled sharply, shaking his head like he’d been snapped out of a stupor. He glanced down at the completely dry plate, then back up at you blankly. “What’re you thinking about?”

“You’re really going to be gone.”

“You say that like I told you I’ve only got days to live. I won’t be gone, Cha. I’ll be around.” You chuckled, flicking dish soap bubbles in his direction. Charles responded by flinging his towel at you, cracking a smile. You liked it when he smiled, hated it when he frowned. He was still unfairly attractive, but it wasn’t Charles’ scowl that made you fall in love with him.

“We can spend the day together anytime, you can come over whenever you want, and if it makes you feel any better, I will give you your very own key.”

That seemed to put him a little more in higher spirits.

“What will you ever do without me?” He wondered out loud, feigning a thoughtful expression.

“Probably clean up a lot less. Be able to take a shower without running out of hot water halfway through. Oh! Have a bottle of shampoo last more than a month because someone—not naming names, of course, won’t use it because they’ve run out of theirs. Not have to fight for—”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Charles huffed, grabbing you by the shoulders and promptly shoving your face into his chest to stop you from talking.

You grinned against the softness of his hoodie. “Shall I go on?”

“No, no you shouldn’t.” His hold on you loosened, but you stayed right where you were, wrapping your arms around his torso. “Just admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I will miss you.” You said softly, pressing your cheek into the crook of his neck. If there was something Charles was unbelievably good at (besides literally anything he’d ever tried), it was giving the best hugs. Something about them made you feel safe, like nothing and nobody could ever hurt you as long as you were in his arms.

“You already know how much I’m going to miss having you around.”

“Yeah, I am pretty great.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest. “You are.”

“You’ve been the best roommate I could’ve asked for. Thank you for everything.” Your words were muffled between the two of you, and you were glad for it, because he didn’t seem to notice the waver in your tone. But he did squeeze you a little tighter, so maybe he did hear you. “I love you, Cha.”

Charles’ voice seemed to waver just a bit too. “I love you too.”

“Okay, okay, you really need to leave. Go before I change my mind and make you stay.” You blurted, pushing him away playfully. It was better than letting him see you get emotional.

“Is that a promise?”

“No, it’s a threat. Go home. I will see you soon.” You gave his hand one last squeeze, nodding reassuringly to rid him of the crease between his brows. “Don’t worry about me. Go, get some rest.”

It was only then that he seemed satisfied enough to leave, but even then, he cast another backwards glance towards you on his way down the hall, as if he was waiting for you to beckon him back. You just smiled as best you could.

You’d get over it. You had to. There was still a lot you needed to get done before you called it a night.

It wasn’t until you were getting ready to go to bed that you started to feel lonely. You and Charles had your respective bedtime routines, but they always intertwined.

You never liked being the one to turn off all the lights in the apartment because the switch was at the end of the hallway opposite from your bedrooms, so he knew to do it because you hated running back through the darkness after flipping the switch.

He always filled a glass with water for late night sipping, but never remembered to actually bring it to his room until he was already in bed, so you always grabbed it for him so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back out the kitchen.

The bathroom counter was where you’d find each other the most, terrible jokes and funny stories told muffled through toothpaste bubbles, even though you could’ve just waited until you were finished to tell each other. You’d flick water at him as you washed your face because he took up too much space at the sink, he’d turn off the tap in retaliation, things like that.

Sometimes Charles would stay up later playing video games with his friends, or take some extra time to practice piano, so you wouldn’t get to do your well oiled machine routine, but he’d always take the extra second to pop into your room to say goodnight when he heard you bustling around, even if he was in the middle of something.

The times you fell asleep on the sofa to Charles’ playing the piano, he’d camp out at the other end of the sofa for the night, or at the very least made sure you were covered with a blanket if he went to sleep in his own room.

It was something you’d grown accustomed to over the years, oftentimes the well-needed end to a not so great day. Charles never failed to put a smile on your face, even with something as small and mundane as a bedtime routine.

But there was none of that as you ran through your routine this time.

You didn’t hear him shuffling around over in the other room, the muffled sounds of his shouts as he played his games, and most of all, you didn’t hear him and his piano.

Because there was no Charles. Of course there wasn’t. You were in this new place that you hadn’t had quite nearly enough of a chance to get used to yet, alone, and it was finally settling in.

Suddenly moving out and away from him seemed like the worst decision in the world.

You knew it was only the first night. You had to give yourself a chance to reacclimate, and that would take time. So you inhaled a deep breath, trying to get as comfy as you could for a long, probably sleepless night ahead.

It was nearing four in the morning when you finally decided to give up and call Charles. Part of you thought he might not even pick up the phone, because he was probably asleep. Any sane person would be sleeping right now.

Much to your surprise, he answered on the second ring.

“Why are you awake?” You asked, maybe a bit harshly.

“Um, you are the one who called me? Why are you awake?” He replied, groggy voice still teasing. His accent always grew thicker when he was sleepy. You thought it was adorable. “You cannot sleep, can you?”

“...No.” Your voice grew smaller. You felt embarrassed at the fact that you couldn’t even make it one full night without Charles around. “I just…I wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I miss you already, Cha.”

Charles fell silent for a few moments, the only sound on his side of the line being his gentle exhales. “I miss you too. Do you want me to come over? I can stay the night, if you want.”

“No. No, you don’t need to do that.” You said softly. “Can you just talk to me?”

This was also something that had become somewhat of a ritual when either of you couldn’t sleep.

You’d tiptoe into each other’s rooms quiet as a mouse, slipping into bed beside the other. Charles always stirred when he felt the bed dip under your weight, half asleep but still reaching out to pull you against his chest like it was second nature. On the occasions when he came into your room, you’d feel him tuck himself close to you, nosing against any part of you he could find with a content sigh.

There was no rhyme or reason to the things you’d talk about in those moments, but eventually, somehow, you’d both end up asleep, usually fairly quickly. Maybe it was the extra added comfort of each other that helped, you could never tell.

It wasn’t unusual to wake up a jumble of limbs tangled together, and neither of you ever addressed it either. Just went on with your business as usual, never talking about it because it was just something you did. To help each other sleep, of course.

Another thing that really blurred the line between friends and more.

Charles hummed a noncommittal sound, soft and fond like he always was around you. “I’ll do you one better. How about I play some music for you?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” You sighed, relieved. He knew what you needed without you even having to ask.

You heard him get up, footsteps padding along until there was a thud and some shuffling coming from Charles’ side. A few warm up scales in and you were already feeling a little less anxious, letting yourself get comfortable.

“Any requests from the audience?”

“Been working on anything new?” You yawned, nuzzling a little deeper back into your pillow.

“I have, actually. It’s still—fuck, how do you say it…a work in progress?”

“Anything you play is perfect.”

“You flatter me.” He snorted. “Alright, here goes nothing.”

He began to play. You knew jack shit about music, so there wasn’t much you could think of to describe how it sounded, but you could describe how it felt. You could almost feel the emotion pouring from his playing, even through the scratchy quality of the speaker.

It felt like something you’d hear in the background of a movie montage, lilting and delicate and warm notes swirling together to create a bright melody, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

Memories of good times with Charles flashed through your head—all the long days and even longer nights you’d spent together because you thrived in each other’s company, cooking together, binging Netflix shows until you both passed out on the sofa.

Hushed laughing during dinners at fancy restaurants that Charles could get into by flashing his name, soft conversations accompanied with expensive food and even more expensive wine.

Day trips up the coast with the top down on the car, pushing the speed limit just to feel an ounce of the freedom that it could give you. Walking through Monte Carlo on late night gelato runs, switching flavors because you both enjoyed each other’s choice more than your own.

Most of all, you thought of the love you felt for Charles, ever since you’d first met him. You’d never been one to believe in the concept of soulmates, but fuck, it was so easy to think of him as yours. Never had you felt as much for someone as you did for him.

God, why were you even thinking of those things?

It would never happen. Any love that Charles had for you would be strictly platonic, limited to however much one could love their best friend.

Surely he’d drawn inspiration from something else when he’d composed the beautiful piece. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Soon enough, you’d drifted off like you always did when Charles played, coincidentally right before he came to a lingering stop.

Had you been awake, you would’ve heard him say that the beautiful piece had been inspired by you. Instead you were fast asleep, still none the wiser to anything. Maybe it was a good thing. You might not have believed it if you’d heard him.

-------

Charles was on your doorstep first thing in the morning, coffee and pastries in hand when you opened the door for him.

“Hello, good morning, your savior is here. And with breakfast!” He chirped, coming to just enough of a halt for you to slide an arm around his shoulders in a hug and grab one of the drinks out of the tray before he swept past you.

Bright morning sunlight poured into the open area, washing the whole place aglow. A warm breeze floated in through the ajar window, rattling the shutters only slightly, and you could hear the all too familiar sounds of the city in the morning coming from the streets below. It was a gorgeous picture of peace; one of the apartment’s many fun quirks that convinced you to go for it in the first place.

The only thing that might’ve rivaled the beauty of the moment was Charles standing at the window, leaning against the sill drinking his coffee while the breeze ruffled his hair. His back was to you as he checked out the view, but even the mere image of him here was nice.

You sipped your own coffee, smiling to yourself when you realized Charles remembered exactly how you took it. You didn’t even need to look inside the bag to know they were your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street from your former apartment that both you and Charles loved. He was always thoughtful like that. Things like remembering your favorite foods and drinks, and going out of his way to get them as a little pick-me-up.

It seemed wrong to ruin the moment, but you felt like you had to say something.

“I’m sorry for waking you up last night.” You sighed, taking a cross-legged seat on a pillow.

Charles turned away from the window, shaking his head quickly. He took a seat on the floor next to you, long legs stretching out towards your crossed ones to nudge a sneaker against your socked foot. “There’s nothing to be sorry about, I’m glad you called me.”

“Right, but it’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it? First time on my own and I didn’t even last a whole night.”

“Not pathetic.” He insisted, entirely firm in his words. He set his cup down as if it could strengthen his point. “It is a change, definitely. You can’t expect yourself to get used to such a big change immediately. It takes time, you know.”

You messed with the lid of your cup, picking at the plastic with a scowl. “I know. But I can’t always come running to you whenever I need help. It’s not fair to you to have to keep rescuing me every time I need saving.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, stretching out the last syllable in confusion. “I feel this is about something more than just last night. We can talk about it, if you would like?”

“I don’t know what it is.” You huffed. “I thought I was ready to be on my own, but maybe I’m not. Maybe I don’t know I’m doing and I’ll never figure it out, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down. Where is this all coming from?”

“I don’t know,” You repeated, bordering on a whine. “But what I do know is that I can’t always keep relying on you for everything. It’s not good for me, or for you.”

“You know, you could always just move back home if you’re truly not ready to do things on your own.” Charles offered, taking a casual sip of his own drink.

Home. He said it so casually, like home was with him instead of this new place you’d chosen to make yours. In a way, Charles was your home. Safety, comfort, love—all the things that made something home, you felt with him.

That was the problem. You didn’t feel right relying on him for all those things, not without him being aware of how you actually felt about him. It seemed like too much of a burden to put on a friend, even one as perfect as Charles.

His eyes met yours over the rim and he shrugged. “I still don’t know why you were so insistent on moving out in the first place.”

You sighed, again. There weren’t many ways you could make yourself any clearer. Other than telling Charles one of the real reasons why you had to leave, which again, was more of a last resort (hopefully not at all) type of thing. “It was time—”

“It was time for you to venture out on your own, yes, I know. But it doesn’t seem to be working out so well right now, does it not?” The last sentence seemed to slip out of Charles’ mouth before he knew what he was saying, because his mouth snapped shut right afterward. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I don’t want to argue.”

But what had been done was done, what had been said was out there for you to know. Your coffee suddenly left a bitter taste in your mouth, and the traffic from outside became glaringly loud. The once peaceful atmosphere had been shattered now that you knew Charles’ true thoughts on it all.

You stood up, letting your feet take you across the room from him. “No. Tell me more, Charles. Tell me how you really feel.”

His nose wrinkled at the use of his full name. You never called him Charles unless you were upset with him, which wasn’t that often. Even hearing it come out of your own mouth seemed foreign.

That seemed to change his reaction, because he stood too instead, doubling down on his words. “Okay. Yes, that is how I feel about you leaving. You barely even talked to me about it, and the next thing I knew, you were packing all your things into boxes! I didn’t understand where this—this sudden desire to leave came from. I still don’t.”

“You don’t have to understand it. It’s already done.”

“Did I—did I do something wrong?”

You almost faltered. Almost.

“Did you ever think maybe me wanting to leave had nothing to do with you?”

“Honestly? No. It feels like it has everything to do with me. It feels like you moved out because you didn’t want to be around me anymore!” Charles exclaimed. “And I have kept my mouth shut, I’ve been trying to be supportive of your decision, but I think I have a right to know. Am I why you wanted to leave so badly?”

“That’s…part of it.” You admitted. Charles froze, brows flying up towards his hairline. “But not because of anything you did. Not because of the reason you’re thinking of.”

“I don’t really see any other explanation. And I am sorry, but that is a shit excuse. I would’ve thought that you of all people would tell me the truth.” He didn’t sound angry, just disappointed and a little hurt. Somehow that felt worse. You’d rather him be mad at you than hurt by you.

“I didn’t want to move out.” You said firmly.

“Then why did you?”

“I had to! I—I couldn’t live there anymore.”

“But why?” He sounded desperate, begging for you to clue him in to any reason, anything at all that would help him understand. And god, as scared as you were of changing things by telling Charles how you really felt about him, you were infinitely more scared of losing him for good if you didn’t.

“Because I’m fucking in love with you, Charles!” You blurted, finally. “I couldn’t live with you any longer, keeping this huge secret all the time, because it truly made me feel like I was about to explode. I just couldn’t do it anymore—pretend like everything was alright when every time I looked at you, all I could think about was how I felt about you! How much I felt for you.” Your voice rose with every word, emotion lacing your tone.

You could feel the tears burning your eyes, threatening to fall no matter how much you willed them not to. “I just thought, maybe if we lived apart, if we didn’t see each other all the time, maybe those feelings would go away.”

Charles blinked at you slowly. He scrubbed a hand over his cheek, across his mouth, letting it disappear into the neckline of his hoodie as he continued the motion near his jaw. Still, he said nothing. You weren’t sure if it was a good sign or a bad one, but still you continued.

“So no, it wasn’t because of anything you did. Or maybe it was, for making it so fucking easy to fall in love with you. I don’t know. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t say anything to me, but I’m not sorry for making the decision on my own. It was for the best.”

There it was, out there in the open at last. It felt like a proverbial weight lifted off your shoulders, but at the same time like a thousand rocks sinking to the bottom of your stomach, because he wasn’t saying anything. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how you’d fuck up the best friendship you’d ever had.

Charles was silent for the longest time before he replied, and when he did, his voice was quieter than you’d ever heard it before. It felt unnerving. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Told you?” You had to fight the urge to let out a bitter, watery laugh. “Telling your best friend you’ve fallen in love with him isn’t just something you mention at the bathroom sink one night.”

“It is, if he feels the same way about you.”

A coldness crept down your neck, shooting through your veins like you’d just had a bucket of ice cold water dumped over your head.

“No you’re not—you don't...you can't.” You whispered, disbelieving.

Charles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “What, do you want me to prove it?”

You couldn’t give him an answer even if you wanted to. You weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to say a damn word, just in case this was all a dream and you'd wake up any second, still alone, still without him there.

He must’ve taken your silence as a yes to his question, because he crossed the room in three strides, took your face in firm hands, and he kissed you.

Despite your utter shock, you managed to kiss him back clumsily, fingers curling into his hoodie tightly. Charles kissed you like he was afraid to let you go, like you’d slip through his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

A guiding hand curled around the back of your neck, angling your head so he could deepen the kiss, but only for a few seconds before he broke away, panting. His forehead stayed pressed against yours, soulful green eyes boring into your own in total seriousness.

“Do you believe me now?”

“Maybe.” You breathed, letting your nose bump against his gently. This was not a dream. Charles was real and here and one hell of a kisser (just as you suspected).

“I am in love with you.” He murmured, stroking his thumb over your cheek fondly. “I have been for a long time. And I never thought you would feel the same way.”

“I love you, Cha.” You were suddenly brought back to last night, when you’d uttered the same words to him. Only this time, they had a whole different meaning to them.

This time, you knew Charles loved you in the same way you loved him.

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #cl16 #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc one shot #truly this was only supposed to be like 2k words #this man invokes many emotions in me what can i say #if u made it this far into my tags hi hello i hope u enjoyed and thank u for reading! i appreciate u <3

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sunflowersandsapphires · 6 months ago

Text

In His Element

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: After watching Matt cross examine a witness, your patience is worn thin, leaving you to plead with the devil.

warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. fingering, brief masturbation, descriptions of fem genitalia, dom!Matt's filthy mind, and also him being so attractive

a/n: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER SMUT THAT WASN'T GHOST WRITTEN SO IT MIGHT NOT BE GREAT. I am going to keep practicing for y'all though! As always, please comment/reblog and leave me feedback if you desire :)

w/c: 3.5k

With clammy fingers, you smoothed your wrinkled skirt until it lay flat over your knees, crossing your ankles under the pew you were seated in. In your haste to find a seat before the trial resumed, you’d landed directly below an A/C vent, which was blowing a harsh current over you. The hair along your limbs stood on end, your heart pumping your blood in smaller loops, leaving your extremities to slowly wither. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but you were far too focused on the heat churning in your gut as your eyes followed your partner’s pacing form.

Hands stacked loosely over the handle of his cane, Matt’s head tilted slightly as he prepared to ask the prosecution’s witness a question. He was facing away from you, but you could imagine the exact emotionless-yet-somehow-haughty expression that graced his face. It was one of the attributes of your boyfriend’s stoic appearance that emerged behind the courtroom doors that you found mind-numbingly attractive.

“Officer Bauer,” Matt’s voice sent a shudder down your spine. Though the man wore a literal mask most nights, he had a variety of metaphorical personality-masks that suited various environments—his everyday polite demeanor, the protective and concerned boyfriend that always surfaced whenever you were threatened or hurt, and, notably, the serious, calculating attorney persona he adopted during his trials.

Biting your tongue to freeze your body in place, you inhaled slowly, trying not to draw attention to yourself. A quick glance to the jury confirmed that you were not the only one entranced by the dark-haired man as he strode back and forth, a few feet in front of the witness stand. He had you all captivated.

Shifting his weight to his heels, Matt was angled enough that you could see the innocent smile he directed at the man sweating on the stand. “Can you tell me what you were doing at the corner of 52nd and 8th on the afternoon of Thursday, March 6th?”

A simple question, innocuous enough that the callous man he was questioning let out an indignant scoff as he answered. ”Patrolling.“

You rolled your eyes at his single word response, his disdain for the judicial process evident in his slouched posture and bored tone. He was practically falling asleep in the worn leather chair, his half-lidded eyes trained on Matt like a dazed serpent. The man looked foul and, from the little that Matt had told you, his personality matched.

Despite the apathetic participant he was dealing with, Matt remained calm and composed. His smile widened marginally, revealing a flash of his pristine teeth as he huffed in amusement.

"Of course. And when you were on patrol you noticed the defendant amongst a group of young adults. Is that correct?"

Your chest was convulsing as your heart pounded from your rib cage. Matt was exceptionally intelligent and had explained his tactic for cross-examining this inattentive cop, but that didn't make it any less suspenseful as you watched his game of cat and mouse play out before your very eyes.

The officer's slitted eyes wandered to the ceiling as he sighed. "Yeah."

"Can you describe the group to me?" Matt lifted his shoulders as he posed the question, not quite shrugging, but definitely indicating that, while he believed the leathery-skinned witness had not yet satisfied his curiosity.

“Buncha kids. Messin around.” Four words rather than one. That was progress, right? Akin to the marble rolling down a track at the beginning of a complex Rube Goldberg machine. The task was far from accomplished, but there was motion somewhere within the structure.

“And, as your partner stated earlier, most of the kids were white, is that correct?” The first hint of something substantial. You pressed your lips together, holding in a smile as your mind started to piece together the rocky, cobblestone path your boyfriend was laying for his uncooperative witness.

“Yes.”

“What encouraged you and your partner to approach the defendant and other students in the park?” Tone laced with what sounded like genuine curiosity, Matt raised a brow at the arresting officer. His ability to color his voice in a way that would appeal to the jury never ceased to amaze you.

“We got news of a nearby break in, and they were actin' suspicious.”

At this point, you were pretty much tuning the lazy cop out—waiting for Matt to open his mouth again, to speak in the beautifully deep, almost hoarse way he always did when defending his clients. His words were direct, controlled in the same manner his general conduct was, his anger and need for justice hidden behind an expressionless facade.

It was intoxicating, his ability to hold back. Almost as divine as his ability to let go.

“Can you describe these suspicious activities for the court?”

Fidgeting with a loose thread on the hem of your skirt, you let Matt's voice drape over you like a wool blanket on a winter night. Comforting, warm, and a tad prickly. Only ears as finely tuned to the man's peculiarities could pick up the barbed edge of his questioning—thousands of serrated teeth waiting to ensnare the animal as soon as it was within their grasp. Knowing how talented your partner was in his field, that moment wasn't far away.

The chair creaked as the cop shifted with a hefty shrug. “Ya know, talkin' all low to each other, shovin' things in their bags while lookin' over their shoulder...” He trailed off, mashing a fist against his nose with an awful throat clearing sound.

“And, while on your patrol, you noticed the group acting this way.” More of a statement than a question. Matt was closing in.

“Yea, that’s what I just said.” The cop snorted, completely unaware of the brutal fate that awaited him.

“So you and your partner decided to intervene?” Matt reasoned aloud. He was pacing again. Your attention had been solely on his voice, not his footsteps.

“Course that’s our job.” The ignorant man to the right of the judge shifted again in his seat, his frustration visibly growing as Matt continued to hurl benign and repetitive questions at him.

“And when you exited your vehicle, what happened?” Matt asked.

“They took off.” Bauer answered, irritated.

“On foot?” Matt clarified.

“Yes.” The witness rubbed forcefully at the bridge of his nose again.

“And it’s true that my client left with them?” Gesturing softly to the young woman seated at the defense's table to indicate to the room who his client was, in case they needed a reminder.

“Yes.” Bauer confirmed.

“So the entire group dispersed on foot?” Matt asked with an air of confusion. His rumbling baritone lifting on the tail end to indicate his dismay.

“Yep.” Bauer grit his teeth, tiring quickly as Matt persisted.

“At the same time?” Matt asked with the same bewildered look on his face.

“Yes.” His witness growled.

“The same group that was acting in a suspicious manner?” Matt questioned.

“Yes. I just said that.” Voice raising, you could see Bauer's face getting redder by the second.

“Then can you tell me, Officer Bauer, why you and your partner BOTH decided to pursue my client?”

Bauer's eyes flashed with something similar to understanding, his mouth remaining clamped shut as Matt stepped closer, closing in on his prey.

“You’ve previously reported and just now confirmed that the entire group left when they noticed you approaching. Yet you and your partner both were solely focused on my client rather than any of the other members of the group. Tell me, officer, is that because of her race?” Matt's words flew out of his mouth rapidly, a string of poorly concealed accusations within them.

You barely had time to appreciate Matt's ingenuity before the lead prosecutor bolted out of her seat. "Objection, Your Honor, that is clearly leading."

"Sustained. Counselor?" The judge glanced at Matt for his next move.

Holding up a hand, Matt didn't miss a beat. “I’ll rephrase. Officer, what reason did you have for pursuing my client rather than any of the other students?”

"Well, she was acting weird," Bauer stammered, his eyes bulging with fear. He'd spotted the threat then.

“In the same manner as the rest of the group, as you previously stated, all of whom you approached with your partner. Yet both of you ran after my client.”

“Yes.” Nodding cautiously, Bauer's voice was suddenly small.

“And, besides her race, can you give any other reason she stood out to you as more suspicious than the rest of the group?”

“Objection, leading.” The prosecution called out, her voice a bit shrill with desperation.

"Overruled. Mr. Murdock, please continue with your line of questioning." The judge's gaze flitted between the prosecutor and the witness who was now sweating profusely on the stand.

“Thank you, your honor. Officer Bauer, can you explain to the court exactly how my client was acting differently?” Changing the question slightly, Matt's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk.

“I don’t know, she, she just was!” Bauer cried, flustered.

“Is there any other difference between her and the rest of the group that you can explicitly state other than her appearance or her race?” Matt asked, cheeks twitching as he gleefully listened to the snare clasp around its victim.

“No.” Bauer answered. "But, but it wasn't like that!"

Turning to the judge, Matt's spine was straight with satisfaction as he announced his intentions. “Your honor, the defense would like to file a motion to dismiss this case on the grounds of selective enforcement. The combined testimony of Officers Bauer and Burke demonstrates an intent to frisk my client because she was black, not solely because of her actions, negating the principle of reasonable suspicion.”

The courtroom exploded, the witness and prosecution both howling in protest as the defendant and Matt both smirked. Grinning ecstatically, you stifled a laugh as the uproar continued, until the judge finally granted the dismissal. You couldn’t lessen your smile if you tried.

Flooding out of the courtroom amidst the sea of spectators and journalists, you stepped out of the current as quickly as you could. Craning your neck over the waves of bobbing heads, you broke into a wide grin when you saw Matt trailing after the masses, cane sweeping inches from their ankles like he was chasing them out. As soon as he was within reach, you called his name, eagerly grasping his outstretched hand and tugging him out of the doorway.

“God, Matty, that was incredible.” You exclaimed breathlessly, wrapping him in a tight hug. His forehead landed against your hair, his nose skimming the shell of your ear as he shook with a resonant chuckle.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against your neck, a guttural noise slipping out as he did. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

His words were barely audible, a secret to only be shared with you. They sent another wave of need straight to your core. “Matthew,” You mumbled, his name breaking off into a whine.

Another huff of laughter sounded in your ear. Planting another kiss against your neck, Matt's broad hands squeezed your hips. “My place. Now.”

“What about you?” You murmured, mouth watering as every touch from your boyfriend left a lingering patch of heat along your skin.

“I have a few things to finish up here, but I'll be there when I can. I promise.” You didn't need to hear his heartbeat to feel the honesty in his vow.

The idea of waiting for him made your knees tremble, the joints threatening to buckle as Matt swiped a calloused thumb over the bare skin of your waist, his hand beneath your shirt. “Matty, please.”

Matt shushed you sweetly. “Not here, angel. Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

With one final squish of your hips, Matt separated from you.

The walk to Matt’s apartment was excruciating. With each step, the throbbing between your legs grew more intense. By the time you’d made it up the stairs and flopped onto his couch, you were practically panting with want.

Now, you were desperately trying to focus on your book, but the words on the page might as well have been gibberish given how little you'd retained since you started. How were you supposed to manage when the image of Matt's parted lips was branded on the back of your eyelids.

“Be a patient girl for me and I'll make all your pain worth it, I promise.”

Patience was never your strongsuit.

Digging your front teeth into your lip, you dropped your head to the arm of Matt's couch with a thunk, whimpering as your discomfort crested. Blowing out a breath, you clenched the paperback book with vigor, fingernails stabbing the parchment inside, scarring it with tiny crescents. If only this book was Matt's broad back.

He loved when you got a little rough with him. You couldn't help it. As soon as his mouth was on you, your eyes shut, vision blanketed with stars. Your hands would grapple for whatever surface they could find to anchor you as Matt rocked the two of you in tandem, your nails carving scratches into Matt's beautiful, sporadically-freckled skin in the process.

The first time it happened, you'd been horrified. Stammering out an apology and offering to apply antibiotic gel to the red marks, but your boyfriend had just smiled, assuring you that he didn't mind.

“Each of those marks is a reminder that I'm yours, sweetheart.”

Arching your back as Matt's dulcet tone echoed in your ears, the book toppled to the ground with a flutter of pages. Hands wandering over your body, you reminded yourself to be patient.

Matt will be here soon. He will.

But not soon enough. A voice buried somewhere in your subconscious warned, encouraging your primal desires and urging your hands to free the hem of your blouse from where it was tucked beneath the waistband of your skirt. Fingertips trailing over the now-exposed skin of your lower belly, you hummed softly as a ripple of pleasure circled out from your fingertips.

Unbuttoning your skirt, you slowly loosened the fabric enough for your hand to dip under it. Dragging a finger over your panties towards your core, you hissed as it finally reached your delicate clit. The bundle of nerves was overly sensitive after being ignored for so long. Pulling the cotton aside, you pushed your finger between your folds, smiling as it danced over your clit. Circling it carefully with a single finger, you shuddered as your body began to buzz with a familiar thrill.

Rocking your hips into your hand slowly, you could barely hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears—which meant that the slam of a closing door caught you off guard.

Yanking your hand out of your underwear with a yelp, you sat up, frantically jerking your head towards the door.

“I thought I told you to wait for me, sweetheart.” Matt's face was shrouded by an array of shadows, the glint of his malicious smirk tinted red in the light of his living room window.

“I—I was!” You mumbled, arousal seeping into your panties as Matt stalked towards you with a laugh.

“You know I can tell when you're lying, sweets. Want to try that again?”

“Depends,” You retorted, adrenaline reigniting the confidence Matt always brought out in you. “Are you planning on apologizing for being so late?”

Chuckling sinfully, Matt cornered you against the back of the couch, fingers deftly unlooping the fabric of your skirt from the remaining buttons. Leaning down until your lips were practically touching, his mouth glanced against yours as he spoke, ignoring your question. "Do you know how difficult it is to remain coherent when you've clouded the entire courthouse in your scent?"

"W-what?" You stammered, gasping shallowly when Matt's teeth grazed the underside of your jaw, his lips kissing languidly along your neck.

"Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? Wanted me to take you right there on the floor before the jury?" Matt purred, making your cheeks thrum with bashful heat.

"I'm not the only one who wanted that, it seems." You grinned, cupping your hand over the noticeable bulge in his pants. “I can't help it, Matt. Watching you in your element...you're intoxicating. I can't listen to two words out of your mouth without wanting to drag you to the nearest bathroom.”

Palming his cock through the layers he wore, Matt growled into the skin of your neck, nipping at your pulse point. Static ricocheted from the impact, freezing you in place as your thighs flexed.

Shedding you of your skirt, Matt gently caressed the cotton covering your drenched pussy. “Can I—”

“Please,” You begged, choking in a breath before Matt's mouth crashed against yours. His stubble bristled against your skin, the small pinpricks a pleasant contrast to his plush lips. Tearing the remaining clothes from your legs, Matt threw his leg over your torso, encouraging you to fully recline against the leather. One hand cupping the back of your head, the other was splayed across your mound, a single dextrous finger parting your glistening lips.

He tasted like salt, like want. His tongue lapping at you like he needed to swallow you whole, like he couldn't get enough.

His cheeks ruffled as a strangled moan escaped him. “You're this wet for me, sweetheart?”

“All for you.” You panted, the air between you growing thick with feverish heat. “Always for you.”

With a beautiful grin, Matt's finger swiped over your entrance. “You ready?”

Nodding sloppily, you brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, tugging him back to your lips. Mouth colliding with yours, the force became bruising when your body rutted upwards, a jolt of satisfaction striking your every cell as Matt's finger entered you.

You hissed as the familiar pleasant pain washed over you. Arching your back as Matt pumped his digit upwards, you moaned, clapping a hand over your mouth as the sound escaped you.

Matt chuckled. “No need to be quiet, sweetheart. Tell me how it feels.”

“So g-good, Matty.” You whimpered, every nerve within your folds quivering as Matt dragged his finger out of you, pushing it in again as he scraped his teeth over your neck. You cried out, vision going black as your body strained to find release. Your fingers dug into the silk beneath you, yanking at the sheets.

As your desperation grew, the rest of your limbs faded into numbness, your brain solely focused on the sensations of Matt’s callouses scraping against your walls—as if he was scratching an itch that had been niggling at you for hours.

Matt hummed against your throat, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clit, making you yelp. The fire within you was out of control, your body drawn taught like the string of a bow.

Wriggling slightly beneath his touch, your breaths became shallow, your stamina worn thin after watching him in court. You whined, twisting slightly to avoid launching yourself over the alluring edge into heavenly oblivion.

“So close already, sweets?” He teased, repeatedly strumming the bundle of nerves.

You moaned in assent, fisting the blankets in your clammy hands. His thick fingers tangled in your hair, giving your locks a tug and drawing a pleased yelp from your mouth.

“Go on. Come for me.” Matt rasped, his breath fanning over your face.

The command shoved you over the cliff, your lungs clenching as you stifled a scream. Your tailbone rutted up, your back arching off the mattress. Everything went white, your ears ringing as sheer pleasure coursed through your veins.

Matt was murmuring to you, his words muddled by the blood rushing in your ears. “–at’s my girl. Always such a good girl.”

Rounding the peak, you collapsed to the mattress, your body trembling viciously. Each beat of your heart shook your rib cage, the motions rippling throughout your limbs. Hands flexing, you hissed as the muscles stretched out of mashed fists. Cupping Matt’s cheeks, you smiled as he eagerly dipped to kiss you.

“Good?” He asked, the question punctuated by the noise of your lips pulling apart.

“Fuck, Matty,” You whispered, head still swimming from the influx of oxytocin. “Yes. Yes, it was good. S-so good.”

Withdrawing his hand from between your legs, Matt cradled you against his chest, brushing a thumb over your nape as your soul re-tethered. Lifting one wobbly leg, you shifted, attempting to throw the leaden weight over him, but Matt gently caught you by the thigh, encouraging you to relax.

“What about you, love?” You asked, drawing in a harsh breath when Matt’s teeth nipped under your ear, his fingers already spreading your legs again.

“Later.” He huffed, his stiff length falling against your plush hip. “I’m not done with you quite yet.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase @msjb2002 @blue-devil-of-the-lord @pigeonmama @daisy-arien0 @yarrystyleeza

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bakerstreethound · 2 months ago

Text

Ad Astra (To the Stars)

Relationship: Jayce Talis x Viktor

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Minors DNI! (dom) Viktor, (sub)Jayce, implied lab smut, marking, biting, teasing, claiming, possessiveness, soft confessions, soft domestic bliss, and the hexstrap gets a notable mention

Summary: Jayce always knew he was a goner. Correction, Jayce always knew he was a goner when it came to Viktor, his partner of many years. Of all the fantasies, all the doubts, he finally finds himself confronting his feelings when they come to the surface one fateful night when they rise uncontained. It is a night Viktor will not, and does not let him forget, especially when they wake up in each other's embrace. It's all too real and not imagined, yet Viktor has more plans.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, copy, repost, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.3k+

A/N: Hello lovelies. Well after the craziness that was season 2 of Arcane, I decided to give Jayce and Viktor a reprieve and have them kiss amongst other things. I have held on to this story for a few weeks because I treasure it and I hope you all enjoy. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

To the stars we go, there I may find you

Beyond the catalyst of a dream forged

Forged between two twin flames

Open their arms, a dying star

Bursting into the eternal sky forevermore

******

Jayce, Jayce, Jayce. A soft voice mutters in his ear, stirring him from a dark void of sleep. Blinking in confusion, Jayce shifts, the sheets clinging, falling lower on his chest. He rubs his eyes, attempting to clear the blurriness from them. His eyes open, greeted by the sight of his familiar dark room.

On second glance, he sees the rise and fall of a bundled figure next to him, and last night's events play out for him. Him and Viktor in the lab, Him and Vicktor sneaking out of the lab, stumbling silly into one of their bedrooms. Viktor lifting Jayce carefully on the bed, despite the protest of both his leg and Jayce.

“Viktor, careful please, it’s not safe-”

Viktor arched his brow and in that instant, Jayce knew he was a goner. He always knew in a way but refused to acknowledge it. Until, apparently, he found himself pinned to his bed by Viktor. Being buried under his lab partner was not on Jayce’s list, but he had to admit the thought occurred only during the few couple of times Victor’s hand brushed his reaching for a pencil, bumping into his shoulders, handing over a gadget, fingertips gently brushing his a second too long in hopes of making the moment last. Yeah, Jayce had to admit he definitely did not and could not take the hint.

How stupid he was, he thought, when Viktor’s finger brushed along his lower lip, eyes darkening in desire, warmth, affection and a touch of something else. It couldn’t be. But Jayce was tired of dancing around it and fell to infinity the moment Viktor’s lips collided with his.

Jayce groaned as Viktor became more insistent, tangling a hand into Jayce’s hair, tugging hard as his lips persisted in their conquest. Jacye was in no way shape or form in a position to complain, mind, body and soul lost to the kiss. A kiss he never in a million years thought would have occurred. Apparently Viktor did. Jayce broke from the kiss, gulping in air, Viktor smirking above him in amusement and admiration.

He stroked Jayce’s jawline with his index finger, his thumb brushing gently, oh so gently along Jayce’s lips admiring their warmth, slightly puffy from Viktor’s ministrations. Viktor’s heart swelled in pride at the sight that he did this to Jayce, making him a panting, gasping, then whimpering mess.

“Viktor…I ... what?” Jayce stumbled, too stunned to speak, reaching his hands out to Viktor, pulling him down, their bodies colliding. Jayce stroked Viktor’s back, until Viktor decided to latch on to his neck, making him squirm against him, the air suddenly became harder to breathe, and all Jayce wanted was to savor the moment, as does Viktor, who was incessant in his conquest, taking advantage of Jayce’s squirming to straddle him, teasingly grinding himself against his hips.

“V-Viktor…I…”Jayce swore softly, biting back another noise rising in the back of his throat as Viktor did it again, a soft gasp resounding from his lips all the while Jayce watched in awe, desperation, and desire. His heart swelled as Viktor reached down to press another kiss to his lips. Viktor did not hesitate, nibbling Jayce’s lip, latching onto his neck once more relishing in the feel of his partner squirming beneath him, a complete mess.

Oh, Viktor would show Jayce so much he desired to do to him for months, but for now he would lavish him with kisses, before getting the man on his knees and putting that smart eloquent mouth of his to work.

******

“Jayce,” Viktor's voice comes into focus as the remaining sleep falls from Jayce’s mind. Well, that and the hours before Viktor claimed him over and over again. Jayce groans as he touches his neck, sore, definitely sore.

“Viktor,” Jayce mutters, reaching for him still bundled on the side of the bed. He gently nudges him, grasping him on the shoulder.

“Oh, good you’re awake after all. Thought I lost you there,” Viktor, pulls off the sheet from his head and it drags down revealing his bare shoulders and chest. Jayce doesn’t look away, enraptured once more with his partner, what they did last night.

He has no regrets, except that he wishes they had longer nights to kiss and do, well, whatever the heck Viktor had done to him and taught him last night. What he demanded Jayce to do and that Jayce had done so with eagerness and desperation.

Jayce can’t help but smile, scooting closer to Viktor, to gently run his hands along Viktor’s body, beautiful in the soft light beginning to filter in through the windows. Viktor continues in his own perusal of Jayce’s body, delighting in the marks he left on Jayce.

His hands reach out to trace patterns on Jayce’s chest, coming up to cup his face, murmuring to himself before kissing him to ensure that it is real. Every bit of it was real and Viktor has irrevocably fallen further into the wonder that is his partner Jayce.

Jayce returns the kiss in kind, taking his time, letting Viktor have the control, muffling a groan when Viktor’s tongue parts his lips, exploring, taking it slow, savoring them together in the early morning, exposed, not lost to the night shadows. Jayce lets himself fall, to the thrill of it all, the intimacy, so different from what he has experienced before.

He wants nothing more than this, than Viktor. A future with him. Together.

When they part a fraction of a moment, eyes meeting, searching for answers already spoken in their depths, Viktor doesn’t hesitate to push Jayce further, the space warming between their tangled bodies. Jayce whimpers a plea, his hips trying to desperately search for relief only Viktor could provide.

“We could go to the lab later, and continue our work, Jayce. It does not mean I am finished with you, yet. I need your help perfecting a new idea I have been tinkering with.”

“Viktor?” Jayce says more of a question than anything, swallowing another pathetic whimper, still riled with the nerves of the night and now. Such a pull Viktor has on him he cannot resist. He nods, curiosity getting the better of him. “Can I at least put a shirt on before we go?”

“Take this.” Viktor rolls his eyes, grabbing his cane leaning on the nightstand before absently tossing over a vest and shirt. Or rather one of his shirts and vests he had stolen from Jayce years ago as a joke.

Jayce laughs, taking the offering, inspecting it before unbuttoning the shirt and carefully putting it on. “How long have you had this and why did you not tell me?”

“What’s there for you to know? You clearly haven’t missed it all these years.”

“Fair point,” Jayce mumbles, adding on the vest. Viktor’s eyes remained transfixed on the man in his bed, half dressed, hair a mess and he smiles softly. If this is what home felt like, then he knew he could be happy like this here with the man he had slowly, irrevocably fell for. In this lifetime and every one that follows.

He smiles to himself as he wraps the blanket around his shoulders, sauntering over to the dresser to fiddle through some clothes, choosing a shirt and vest as well.

He feels Jayce’s gaze fixed upon him, and he lets the blanket slide a fraction from his shoulder, and then the other until he lets it fall completely to the floor, giving Jayce a full view of his back. He smirks to himself, making a show of picking out his own set of button up shirt and vest, jacket, and slacks before walking back to the bed, resting his cane down before sitting down and getting himself dressed.

Jayce’s gaze is still fixed upon him, the shifting of blankets doing nothing to hide the advances of the man Viktor has quite literally made to see stars many hours prior.

There is a pure primal satisfaction in knowing. Knowing that he will remember for the rest of his days. Jayce’s lips on his, how willing he is to let Viktor do what he so desires to him, commands.

Viktor allows a small sigh of satisfaction to pass his lips as he carefully puts on his pants, wincing as he twists to grab his shirt, until Jayce’s hand reaches out to stop him.

“May I?” He asks, and it’s nothing but sincere, making warmth spread to Viktor’s cheeks. Viktor nods in confirmation while Jayce holds out the shirt behind him while he slips his arms in the sleeves, tugging it down like so to smooth out the wrinkles. Viktor stands so Jayce can fully face him, taking in his bare chest pale against the dark striped shirt Jayce slowly begins to button for him.

Jayce's gaze does not falter from the task, and he continues his task, helping with Viktor’s vest, buttoning it all snug and secure. When he is complete, Jayce hesitates a moment, locking his gaze almost shyly with Viktor’s who smirks, grasping Jayce by the chin to guide him to his lips, where they fall impossibly further again.

Warmth, so much warmth floods the spaces between them and Viktor swears there is nowhere else he would rather be in the entire universe than here. When they break away once more, Viktor allows himself a small smile, amused by Jayce’s bright eyes and iridescent smile, which falters a bit when he reaches up to caress Viktor’s face with a hand.

“Jayce. Is something wrong?”

He huffs in reply shaking his head in disbelief. “Not at all. It is so far from wrong. Last night. This. Us…it’s been…fantastic. More than I could have dreamed.”

“So…”

“It’s only,” Jayce pauses tracing a finger along Viktor’s lower lip. “You were never broken. Never to me. I only wish you felt you could trust me enough with everything you and I expressed last night.” Jayce sighs, pulling his hand away, which Viktor grasps firmly in his, his other hand reaching for Jayce’s neck, bringing his forehead down to rest against his partners. Try as he might, Viktor cannot hide the half smile that emerges on his lips, causing Jayce to beam in utter adoration.

“In fairness, we both made things complicated, Jayce. And we were busy with Hextech, changing the world and everything. If you do recall.”

“I only recall kissing you last night.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

“I focus on the moments we are given, all while considering the future.”

Viktor rolls his eyes in amusement, his voice growing solemn as he ponders Jayce’s words. “Did you mean it? My whole life I have been broken.”

“Of course I mean it, I meant every word. You were never broken. Your imperfections are what make you you . My imperfectly perfect partner. There is nothing more I could ask for.”

“But you couldn’t accept-”

“Viktor, I choose you. This day and the next. I cannot see so far into the future, but I know that there we exist together. I want to be with you, if you will have me and all I am. Accept me for who I am and all my flaws, everything in between. I feel this for you.” Jayce holds out his hands to Viktor who takes them, squeezing gently, for once this morning at a loss for words. Until, he snickers in realization.

“What’s so funny? Oh no I messed up the speech, didn’t I? I am an idiot,” Jayce groans.

“Not at all, Jayce. We have carried this conversation half dressed. We have not been wearing pants and we will be late to the lab if we wait much longer.”

“You’re right, that is important. Can I…may I kiss you again?”

Viktor smiles, pecking Jayce’s cheek. “Well, at least let me get my pants on. You as well. That is, if we can find any around here,” a raised brow follows the statement with a wry knowing smile.

Jayce laughs. “Yes, that is a wonderful idea. Heimerdinger would be tremendously confused about the situation.”

“That or he would lock us in the lab for an entire night claiming it was an accident.”

“Mel would be more likely to do that.”

“Mel? Wait, was that why she was there last night ....”

“Perhaps…perhaps not.”

“Viktor, did you enlist Mel’s help to get the lab for the night?” Jayce inquires while finding and putting on his pants. Viktor did likewise as he formulates a reply.

“A great scientist doesn't have to reveal all their unique methods, Jayce. You should know this by now. However, I am not done with you today.” Viktor’s eyes narrow as he contemplates all the things he wants to do with his partner, but quickly shoves it away.

“By all means, Viktor,” Jayce whispers in his ear, coming behind him to take him in his arms, whispering more sweet nothings, “I am looking forward to it.”

“Good good. It is nice to know I have a willing participant to test a new device I have tinkered with. You would be the perfect candidate.”

Jayce stumbles, mumbling a few words, not knowing what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to Viktor’s neck, kissing behind his ear, nibbling the earlobe, making Viktor groan low.

Viktor silently swears to himself for what feels to be the hundredth time in the span of twenty four hours. He can’t wait to hear all the pretty sounds Jayce will make for him. How lovely it will be to break him, bring him to the precipice of pleasure again. All because of him.

******

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #viktor x jayce #jayvik fanfiction #jayvik smut #jayvik fanfic #jayvik fanart #jayce talis #viktor arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane league of legends #jayce league of legends #viktor league of legends #it was affection that held us together #my writing #my alleyway

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billskeis · 1 year ago

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heyy! can you do 2010tom x reader fluff where reader asks tom to teach her german but they are ending up doing yk…

ᡣ𐭩 learning german w tom (GONE WRONG!)

“tomtomtom!” “whatwhatwhat baby?” you came running to your boyfriend’s room to see him playing video games on the console. sitting in the gaming chair, he’s manspreading and only had sweatpants on, completely shirtless, and completely vulnerable.

“can you teach me german?” he raises an eyebrow at you

“you want to learn german? what’s this all of a sudden baby?” closing the door behind you, you walk closer to his proximity, “i don’t think it’s fair that we only speak english, i just wanna be closer to you and figured that learning how to communicate with you in your native tongue would be nice..”

tom smiles brightly at you. his heart flutters with the idea of teaching you his language was endearing. he never complained, but tom sometimes had trouble expressing himself the best when it came to english. either he communicated it with his body language which sometimes left you confused or just completely dropped the idea and gave up.

to him, this means a lot.

taking in a deep breath, “okay, let’s get started.. y/n?” you were in a daze at how beautiful your boyfriend was. sitting next to him, you played with a braid twirling in your fingers. “huh—? oh right!” chuckling, he shakes his head in slight disbelief.

you were supposed to be paying attention to his lessons, not his hair.

“we can start of with hair, since you keep touching it ever since i got it done. haar.” giggling, you repeat after him, “haar.” nodding his head in approval, he praises you, “good job baby.” ruffling the top of your head making your own hair messy. you softly swat away his hand playfully.

“hmmm how about, du bist attraktiv?” “awww, danke tom!” “how about that? my pretty princess is learning so quick,” he leaves a quick peck on your cheek as you shy away, “some of the terms sound pretty similar in english, nothing too notable.”

what was notable was the sight that beholds you.

tom’s chest, flat up in your face. you swallow hard, staring. although his body not the most buff, his body was inevitably defined. and holy shit, you almost let your mouth go agape, drooling.

being an observer, tom noted this. smirking, all he could do was just wait for you to say something. “u-uh, did you say something tom?” he shakes his head, “haven’t said a word.. done staring?” “pft, as if..” you definitely were staring and tom wasn’t an idiot.

shifting closer, tom’s figure made its way closer to yours, “this one’s a bit harder, repeat after me okay schatz? ich will..” “ich will,” his arms lift your body onto his, now sitting directly on top of him. your face heats up, but the lesson must go on so, you resist fighting back.

after all, it’s your girlfriend duties to learn german!

“dich so…” his hands snake it’s way under your pjs and under your panties. slow circles on your clit, tom was waiting for you to speak. “d-dich so..”

kisses were left on your neck, they were sloppy and wet as you could feel a cold chilly feeling of air on your neck due to the saliva tom so generously left. “mmhm, good pronunciation babe. sehr.”

you couldn’t speak. tom at this point was finger fucking you, and the way he curled his fingers to hit your g spot left your back arching on him.

in an attempt to run away from the pleasure, you try getting off his lap with the little to no strength you had. obviously, tom won and held onto you strong, pressing his body closer to yours, bare chest flat against your back. “ah ah, we aren’t done yet.. you still have something else to say.”

in the meanwhile you attempted to muster up the courage to finally speak, voice all breathy and only whines being able to leave your lips, tom tugged down his sweats and frees his dick from his boxers. you, fully unaware of this happening as you’re only focused on how tom interchanges from rubbing your clit to fingering you.

“s… s-sehr..!” “hmph, you turn me on too baby,” tom lifts you up and aligns himself, flopping you onto his dick in such a swift motion. you can’t help but shudder at the electricity brought by how his tip just reached and kisses your cervix.

tom guides your hips up and down his length, the shape of your walls already adjusting to him just right, “mein Gott.. you’re already so wet..” “t-tom this is not how i planned to spend our… eveninnngh” unable to speak properly, you drag out the words to the way tom drags his dick in and out your cunt.

“sorry darling, but the way you were looking at me, i couldn’t help myself..” landing a smack on your ass, you and tom fuck each other to each your highs.

it didn’t take long, due to the lack of intimacy you guys had lately due to tom’s music and you working, you were just soo sensitive and tom was horny.

“i-i.. coming!” with a sharp thrust into your pussy, your legs shook with the adding mix of tom rubbing your clit slowly and painfully. shortly after you felt warmth consume your insides, tom had also came and continued to fuck his cum inside you.

slowing down his movements, tom places trails of sweet kisses along the curve of your back. you’re unable to speak, one orgasm already tiring you out. looking behind you, your boyfriend is smiling while breathing heavy. what the fuck man, you thought. tom looks as though he’s ready to go for another round, or maybe ten.

“atta girl.. can you go again?”

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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simplyhughes · 11 months ago

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A Hughes Summer: The Arrival

Synopsis: A Hughes Summer is an ongoing series about a HughesSister!Reader x Connor Bedard! This will follow multiple scenarios of their summer together spent at the infamous Hughes Lake House! If there are any specific scenarios you’d like to see, please let me know! Thanks for reading!

Content Warning: none!

Pairing: Connor Bedard x Hughes!Reader

Part One

wc: 1k

Navigating dating the best rookie in the league while being surrounded by three brothers, all notable players themselves has been extremely chaotic, to say the least. Hockey has permeated all corners of my life, not that I necessarily mind, but being born into a hockey family has definitely altered my taste in men. Connor, my boyfriend, and my trio of brothers have clashed on the ice before, obscured by layers of gear, battling fiercely for the puck. But today marks the moment of formal introduction, and I can't deny the flutter of nerves within me. My brothers are intense; Quinn has this odd maternal instinct toward me, Jack is just downright wild... and with Luke, I'm actually not too concerned, as long as I keep him supplied with a snack to gnaw on.

As the 2024 hockey season drew to a close, Connor and I made the spontaneous decision to embark on a road trip from Chicago to Michigan, where I planned to introduce him to the beloved Hughes summer lake house tradition. Every summer for as long as I can remember, my family has spent the majority of the summer in Michigan, lounging at the lake house. With every mile closer to our destination, my heart quickened its pace, anticipation mingled with nerves as the moment of collision between my two worlds drew near. Yet, amidst my own jitters, I couldn't help but notice the anxiety radiating from the driver's seat beside me, where Connor sat, his nerves seemingly even more pronounced than mine.

It seemed like he was on a timer; every couple of minutes, he dragged his palms against his thighs, wiping his sweat to keep his grip on the wheel. In between that, he’d run his hands through his hair and check his reflection in the rearview mirror. After watching him do this a few times, I couldn't help but chuckle. Connor glanced over at me before turning back to the road and smiled. “What?” he chuckled back at me.

“You are just cute, that's all,” I replied, still with a smile plastered on my face.

“Oh yeah?”

“For Sure”

The car fell into silence for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, but you couldn't help but feel bad that he was nervous. “Connie, they are gonna love you. I promise.”

“I really hope so, y/n.”

“I know they don't know you yet, but I do know they already admire your skill and drive. But they are gonna love you, promise.”

Connor looked at me, his eyes softened and gave me his signature lopsided smile. I stretched my arm out to the car's console and turned up the radio's volume.

The car rumbled along the graveled, mud-plastered driveway, flanked by towering trees that resembled skyscrapers, the only resemblance to the city we had just departed. Finally, the vehicle came to a halt. Connor shifted the gear to park and wiped his palms once more. He unbuckled his seatbelt, popped the trunk, and went to retrieve some of our luggage from the back. Before handling our belongings, Connor opened my door and offered me a hand. I grasped his hand, stepping out of the car.

“Thank you, Con. Chivalry isn't dead, I suppose. But you gotta do something about the sweat, baby,” I teased.

His eyes rolled, and he bumped me jokingly with his hip. Together, we made our way to the trunk. As I started to gather my things, Connor swiftly snatched the bags from me.

“Hey!” I yelped.

“Chivalry,” he smirked.

Connor, busy with all the bags, let out a huff as he unloaded his arms on the front porch. I rammed my finger into the doorbell multiple times, rapid-fire style, just to annoy my brothers.

“HOLY SHIT MAKE IT STOP!” I heard one of my brothers yell, muffled by the walls. The door swung open revealing the shortest of the three brothers. “QUINNIFER!” I shouted, jumping into his arms. “Hey, Peanut!” he shouted back. We shuffled back into the house where I was then greeted by the other two. After almost being squeezed to death, the attention shifted to the awkward blonde standing alongside the bags. I cleared my throat, “Guys, this is Connor!”

“Hey man, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Quinn said, giving him a handshake. Luke followed suit while Jack just stayed back. The middle brother narrowed his eyes, watching his other brothers greet the new guy. “Jack quit being a dickhead and say hello.

“I’m just busting his chops y/n, don't worry,” Jack smirked. “What's up?” He finally spoke, shaking Connor's hand.

“Quinny, can you please handle our bags while I give Connor the grand tour?”

“Whatever, anything for my favorite sibling,” he replied, immediately getting hassled by the other two.

I managed to grab Connor's hand and sneak him around the brawl leading him into the living room. His eyes trailed along the pictures that decorated the mantle; pictures that told the Hughes’ past summers, the quilt that was draped against the couch; the quilt that was ripped and resewn back together, it held too many memories to throw out. He soaked in the room, observing all the details laid before him. I plopped down onto the couch, also soaking everything in. “What do ya think?” I questioned.

“I think that you were adorable,” Connor gushed while picking up a framed picture from almost 14 years ago. He looked it over for another minute, then put it back down in its spot. I smiled watching Connor, seeing him in this house that meant so much to me. He fit in so perfectly, it’s like he's been here all this time. My smile only grew thinking about the events this summer longs to unfold, how this will be his first summer in Michigan with many more to follow.

#luke hughes #jack hughes #simplyhughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #hockey #connor bedard #nhl #njd #blackhawks #connor bedard x reader #connor bedard imagine #connor bedard fluff

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year2000electronics · 5 months ago

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Does Monster Falls Dipper ever get the hang of being a deer?

he does! it takes some time but he's not bumping into walls as much :] (mabel also bumps into walls she just also used to bump into them as a human so its less notable (see her literally running into the door in soos and the real girl LOL))

its a little hard though, because most of the town's residents at this point are people who are in gravity falls because they grew up in gravity falls- soos has been here since he was at least 12 according to the show, gideon was born here, as were people like pacifica and wendy who have LONG family lineages, even characters like tyler and robbie shrug and say "well im a monster because my parents were monsters, too" so there's not a lot of advice for people who are only JUST getting cursed.

the only two who have something close to advice for them are stan and fiddleford. stan's advice is often hidden behind insults or tough love but there's definitely an undertone of "guy who knows exactly what it's like to have your center of weight dramatically shifted by something", and meanwhile fiddleford... isnt actually helpful at all. but he keeps offering dipper parts from the junkyard to "replace those ones".

I THINK HE DESERVES A "BIG DAMN HERO" MOMENT THOUGH. like, a part where not only does he help save the day, but also does it BECAUSE he's a cervitaur, y'know? and where better to put that than GIDEON RISES!!

DEER HAVE VERY POWERFUL KICKS!!

#mothra answers #gravity falls #monster falls #my art #dipper pines #gideon gleeful

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traincat · 9 days ago

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hello traincat!!!! just recently gone through my spideytorch rabbit hole again. only now it is worse. and i’m actually considering writing fics about those two losers…

i LOVE your villain!peter fic, and i have seen a few other premise where peter is the Spider. but now its got me thinking and now i have brainworms of villian!johnny. i think of johnny and he will always be that sincere idiot that always puts others needs before his own. maybe if i break him enough mentally….. hmm decisions decisions….

thoughts?

also ur the bestest ever and i spent valentines giggling and reading your fics… i hate those stupid losers(i am obsessed with them…)

Thank you for reading my fics! I hope you had a good Valentine's Day. 💖

So it's my opinion that you can push pretty much any character into villain territory, you just need to figure out the right buttons to push. Some are admittedly easier than others. With Peter, for The Spider and the Last Spark, I had a very definite breaking point in mind. Spoilers for my own fic but the Spider's universe is a canon divergent version of 616 where, during Civil War, the Kingpin's assassin succeeds and murders both Mary Jane and Aunt May before Peter reaches the motel room.

This wasn't a totally original idea or anything. What If? Back in Black goes in a similar direction, killing off MJ, although its Peter is ultimately less successful than mine. I decided to kill off Aunt May too to completely strip Peter of any positive influence, including his own universe's Johnny, who died as a result of the attack he suffers at the beginning of Civil War.

I also took a lot of inspiration from What If? Grim Hunt, where Peter ultimately doesn't back down and decides to kill Kraven. (Notably my inspiration for his costume -- the black suit sans the mask -- was from Grim Hunt, and also his regular collection of slutty, slutty bathrobes.) The regular Grim Hunt makes a prediction via Madame Web that if Peter did kill Kraven, it would set him on a path where he wouldn't be able to stop killing, which is something Peter himself muses on in Spider-Man: Friends and Enemies. So I had a lot of canon information to use as a foundation.

(What If? Grim Hunt) "You killed someone." "I did that for you too!" Haha. Love him. What a freak. The other big thing I was considering with Peter was his personality flaws and how I could magnify those. Peter's big thing is responsibility, which on the flipside means he often assumes responsibility for other people. The ugly flipside here is control. Peter loves to be in control of a situation, and why wouldn't he? He's the strongest, fastest, and usually the smartest person in any civilian room he walks into. That's a big power rush. So take someone who is angry and grieving, who had that control stripped away from along with any positive influence in his life all in one night -- that's a powder keg.

(ASM #542)

Regret was a big factor for my Spider, too. Regret that he couldn't protect MJ, Aunt May, Johnny. Regret over his dead child. Regret that he didn't provide a better life for MJ when she was alive. My goal was to work from a place of pain and transform it into this little kingdom of control. Peter's not powerful enough to take over, say, the world, but he could take over New York and hold it as his own sovereign territory, especially with how broken the community was during Civil War, and especially with a big show of power, which was why I had him kill the Hulk. (Whether or not Peter could kill the Hulk in canon is a debate I'm not interested in. What's important is that Peter does canonically state that he's figured out a method to kill the Hulk, and I absolutely believe that he believes he could do it.)

So how do we apply this method to Johnny? It's a little bit trickier, because I don't have a clear breaking point in canon where I'm like, okay, if we shifted X, Y, and Z, I could see this being a springboard into supervillainy. Johnny is, at heart, an extremely kind and moral character. He's also not self-motivated the way Peter is -- Johnny functions as part of a team, and when he explores things on his own they tend to be hobby related, like racing and pop stardom. He's not usually an independent actor.

On the other hand, we can use that to our advantage. "If you break him enough mentally" sure, that works, but how are we going to do that? My first thought again is to strip the support system. I think Ben in particular has to go -- we see how Johnny spirals when he and Ben aren't on good terms. (Take "has to go" however you want for your individual context. I don't think it strictly has to mean killing characters off. I had to separate Flash from Peter in The Spider and the Last Spark and I had him lead the rebel army.) Reed and Sue, I think there's wiggle room. Is either of them a villain? Johnny's easily influenced by his loved ones, especially when he's young. If you want to play into his naivete, I think there's the beginnings of a villain route there.

Alternatively, we can play into the destructive nature of Johnny's powers. I talked a little about Claremont's take on the origin story recently, where Johnny absorbs the heat from the shuttle crash and then immediately goes Nova. The only reason Sue and Reed survive is that Ben covers them. But traditionally, Ben isn't rocky until a few moments after the crash. What if his own transformation hadn't taken place yet? Ben still covers Reed and Sue, but it's not enough, and Johnny accidentally kills his family. Add in the more modern Fantastic Four origin approach where the Four are held, at least temporarily, by the military, and you've got an isolated, guilt stricken Johnny who is facing his worst fear: being alone.

(Fantastic Four #214)

(Fantastic Four: First Family)

That's easily enough to break him. I think you could write a villain!Johnny based solely on this. But again, Johnny's not a very independent actor. So some kind of outside influence is immensely helpful. Another supervillain? Someone with other motivations who sees a deeply lonely, emotionally scarred young man with enormous power, and recognizes someone easy to manipulate? Would Johnny even care if he was being manipulated at that point?

Which brings me to the big thing with Johnny for me. What does Johnny want most in the world? He wants to be loved. And while I think a solo Johnny villain story is interesting, part of me is always a little bit committed to the idea of villain couple Peter and Johnny. (Which is what the Spider was clearly trying to swing in The Spider and the Last Spark.) Johnny, lost, directionless, craving the affection that Peter has to give in spades, and Peter, with the capability to be protective and devoted, but who also becomes infatuated at the drop of a hat. Peter, obsessive. Johnny, yearning. A huge hole in both of their hearts that's never quite filled. So yeah, why not take over the criminal underground? It's not like they have anything else to do on a Saturday night.

#*replies #spideytorch #traincat talks comics #long post/#sometimes codependency is fun and sexy

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theunsinkableship1 · 29 days ago

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DEAREST FRIENDS

⚠️ Disclaimer: This is Lukolaland only. Skip if you don't ship nor believe.

Dearest Lukolashippers, for years, Nicola and Luke, have moved in a space filled with undeniable chemistry, synchronicity, and moments that fueled something deeper than mere friendship in the eyes of many. They’ve played into it, danced around it, and left room for speculation by neither confirming nor denying. But now, things have shifted.

Nicola’s recent interview, where she finally used the words “just friend», a phrase they’ve notably avoided in the past was a defining moment. She closed her eyes, took a quick breath, and said it like an apology: "I'm sorry that he's just a friend, but he is a dear friend." The wording, the delivery, the hesitation, none of it felt casual. It felt deliberate, like something that needed to be said but perhaps it wasn’t easy to deliver this message.

The act of closing one’s eyes can sometimes be a way to block out external stimuli while formulating a response. This could mean she felt a certain level of discomfort, perhaps she doesn’t like discussing this topic in such definitive terms. It could also suggest that she wished she didn’t have to answer at all. The breath before speaking might indicate a moment of internal negotiation before proceeding.

The fact that she follows this up with "But he is a dear friend" and then, later, "Luke is perfect," reinforces that there is still warmth and admiration there. But the hesitation in her body language suggests that the topic is not as simple as she wants it to appear.

The statement about friendship was something she felt obligated to say, whereas calling Luke perfect was more spontaneous. The emphasis shift could suggest a disconnect between what she wants to express and what she feels she should say publicly

Whether it’s playfulness, resignation, PR strategy, or something more personal, it’s clear that this wasn’t just an offhand remark.

And then, less than 72 hours later, Luke debuts his long-rumored girlfriend at a major fashion event. The timing is striking. For months, he seemed to be opting for privacy, never confirming, never engaging, never defending her against backlash, and never appearing fully at ease in public sightings. But suddenly, the narrative is cemented. The patterns have changed.

Luke has changed his approach. He was once silent, hesitant, and distant about this relationship. Now, suddenly, he is presenting it in an official capacity, after Nicola distanced herself with her words.

Coincidence? Unlikely.

Lukola’s synchronization remains undeniable, even in the way they navigate this shift in narrative. Whether intentional or not, they continue to mirror each other’s behavior, Nicola makes a public statement, Luke follows with a carefully timed move. It’s a pattern we’ve seen before, a rhythm they seem to fall into effortlessly.

Their bond has always been built on synchronicity, from the way they speak in unison to the unconscious mirroring in their gestures and expressions. Now, even in how they handle public perception, they remain aligned. This kind of unspoken coordination suggests an ongoing connection, whether it’s about protecting something private or simply moving in tandem as they always have.

Whatever the case, the timing is too precise to be a coincidence. The dance continues, just with a new routine.

Previously, two of the strongest arguments for the Lukolashippers were that 1: neither Luke nor Nicola ever called it "just" a friendship. That small omission left room for ambiguity, for subtext, for a space where something more could exist unspoken. And 2: the fact that Luke had never publicly acknowledged his long-rumored girlfriend, but now both things have happened

So, what do we make of this?

Something shifted. Whether it’s PR, a personal decision, the timing speaks volumes. It’s not about whether he’s with someone, it’s about why it’s being handled this way now.

Was this all coordinated? It’s highly possible. A synchronized effort to shut down speculation, to realign public perception, to take control of a story that had spiraled beyond their grasp. You don’t want your relationship to overshadow your career or let natural chemistry and attraction diminish your talent, especially when your career is just beginning to take off. Whether out of personal necessity, professional strategy, or simply to ease external pressures, they’ve made their statement.

But the lingering question remains: Why now? Why not months ago when rumors were at their peak? Why not a simple, clear acknowledgment that could have saved them from the relentless discourse? They had countless opportunities to set the record straight but remained elusive, leaving space for doubts to linger, letting ambiguity fuel the flames, until now. Yet here we are.

Why had Luke previously been reluctant to acknowledge his girlfriend. If he was taking the private approach why the change?

Why did Nicola phrase it the way she did, with hesitation and a quick breath?

Why is the timeline of events so closely linked.

If this was all about PR, the goal could be:

To remove lingering speculation that they are secretly together.

To establish Luke’s relationship in a way that doesn’t feel abrupt.

To allow Nicola to move forward without being constantly tied to Luke.

This doesn’t necessarily mean that what they had was fake, but rather that they might be transitioning to a new phase, whether that’s a real separation, a private arrangement, or something in between.

If they were (or are) involved in any way beyond friendship, the intense scrutiny could have made it difficult to navigate. The coordinated move could be an attempt to create distance, not necessarily because nothing ever happened, but because they need space to breathe without constant speculation.

By clearly defining themselves as just friends, they might be hoping to calm the intensity of their fandom’s interest. The logic could be :

If Nicola says just friends, people will have to accept it.

If Luke is seen with someone else, the speculation will die down.

If they maintain the bond behind the scenes, they can preserve their real connection without external interference.

This could be a temporary measure, especially if they are trying to figure things out privately.

Whether this was directly coordinated or simply a natural alignment of circumstances, the timing is too precise to be accidental. Nicola’s words and Luke’s actions work together to establish a new public image, whether it’s entirely reflective of reality or not. Ultimately, this could be:

A mutual decision to shift focus away from their relationship dynamics.

A move to protect their bond by reducing outside pressure.

A way to create distance for personal or professional reasons.

A redirection of attention whether toward other relationships, their careers, or a more private arrangement.

The first thing we should accept is the reality they present to us at this moment, as it is highly likely to reflect their current truth.

No matter what the current truth is, one thing is clear: This was not a random occurrence. It was a deliberate shift in narrative, one that raises more questions than it answers.

It's time to take a step back and let this breathe. Nicola and Luke have clearly coordinated their messaging, and this is the narrative they’ve chosen to put forward. Whether it’s the absolute truth or just the version they want the world to accept, it’s their life, their choices, and their prerogative. We should not send them or their close ones any negativity. We only see what they choose to show us, and like all human beings, they have their own reasons and emotions. In my opinion, they don’t deserve hate, they need respect. As I’ve mentioned, I appreciate their work and talent, but the only reason I’m here is because I love their love.

Whatever the reason, they have chosen this path, and it’s one that deserves to be respected. This isn’t about being buffeted by the wind, but about letting it guide the sails. If this is the story they want to tell, so be it. Whether it’s the full truth or a narrative built for necessity, only time will reveal what lies beneath the surface.

For now, I take a step back, not because I’ve stopped believing, but because I recognize the signals they’ve given. Some truths take time to unfold, and if there’s one thing Nicola and Luke have taught us, it’s that not everything is as simple as it seems.

There’s no love lost here, only the ebb and flow of tides, the natural rhythm of a journey that isn’t necessarily over, just momentarily obscured. History has shown us that where there’s smoke, there’s often fire. The question isn’t whether the fire has burned out, but whether it’s simply smoldering beneath the surface, waiting for the right conditions to ignite again. And the vessel will follow the glow of the beautiful flame to be guided through the rough waters.

Many couples have charted similar courses before finally finding their way back to each other. Tom Holland and Zendaya spent years insisting they were just friends, even dating other people, before finally making their relationship public. For example, David & Victoria Beckham (kept their early relationship low-key) or Ryan Gosling & Eva Mendes Even classic Hollywood saw the likes of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward navigating relationships before settling into a lifelong love. The list goes on, proof that timing, public perception, and even a little misdirection often plays a role in love stories that unfold at their own pace.

So, is this ship lost at sea, or merely waiting out the storm? Sometimes, when the waters are uncertain, the best course of action is to drop anchor and wait. Wait for the skies to clear, for the waves to calm, for the true direction to reveal itself. The Lukola ship may not be sailing in plain sight right now, but that doesn’t mean it has sunk. Some journeys take detours, but the current always has a way of pulling things back to where they belong.

#lukola #lukolaland

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ajwrks · 2 months ago

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—Art of Flirting

thunderclash x gn! human reader

there isn’t many things out there for him 💔. this is about thunderclash trying to get at the reader, but reader has noooo idea who he is. this also might be a littleeeee bit of an x rodimus as well

warning: rodimus being salty

imagine thunderclash sauntering inside swerves bar for the first time on his temporary stay at the lost light, and his optics widening in a fraction of infatuation for the ships dear human

i think that him coming up to you trying to spit game while you have no clue who the hell he is is hilarious to me. i honestly think he’d be more than dumbfounded at your clueless expression as he tries to list off all his accomplishments and the notable reputation he’s established for himself.

he ignored the attention of mostly everyone just to get to you— and then for you to ask “who are you?” straight to his face

“aw man. its the man of the hour! he's coming straight for us!” swerve marveled at the mere sight of the autobot as he made confident strides towards the bustling bar top. thunderclash in all his charismatic glory, effortlessly slotted himself between you and the vacant barstool, giving you all his undivided attention. “or just coming straight for you… i guess,” swerve grumbled underneath his breath as he resumed wiping cups down.

“may i know your name?” he asks you sweetly. you offer him a MEAN side eye as you take one final sip of your concoction before fully turning to face this hulking mass of an autobot. you made a puzzled expression as your eyes drink him in. his striking appearance decked out in a few of the brightness colors possible practically blinded you.

“its y/n…” you answer slowly.

“y/n,” he repeats your name, testing it on his glossa. you straighten as you continue to look at him.

“since we’re getting names, what’s yours?” thunderclash physically looks taken back at your question. you were even more perplexed to see swerve in your peripheral mirroring the same look— maybe more exaggerated. thunderclash, who is so used to having fans clobber him to death and his name being thrown around by many, utterly shocked.

“y/n? don’t tell me you don’t know who thunderclash is?!” he exclaims, planting both of his servos on the counter, bewildered.

“no? should i know who he is?” you laugh off your defensiveness, your eyes flickered between swerve and thunderclash awkwardly.

thunderclash definitely thought you’d be all “oh i know you! you did this and that and blah blah blah” but it was the exact opposite

he sat there for a good minute trying to get you to “ring a bell” on him and his name. overtime, he saw no change (poor thunderclash)

he thought if you knew his status, it would expedite the process of trying to get you as equally interested

not to say you weren’t impressed by his accomplishments and… whatever else he did. it was too much to count. at the end of the day, those things can mean nothing. but! you were flattered by his efforts in trying to pursue you, but he had to work for you (as he should)

thunderclash also made the grave mistake of mentioning you to rodimus…! attempting to get a general idea of your interest due to discovering you and rodimus' close relationship.

“what did you just ask me?” he folded his arms firmly over his chassis, unimpressed. thunderclash released a nervous chuckle.

“i asked if you could tell me… some of their interests?” rodimus stayed unbearably silent before stepping up to jab a finger into his plating.

“ow! what the hell is up with your chest!? anyway, why are you so concerned with them?” he interrogated, relenting as he took a step back to further bathe thunderclash in his gaze of scrutiny.

“i find them fascinating— i want to get closer to them,” his faceplates shifted to one akin of being “lovestruck,” rodimus scoffed.

“how about you ask them yourself since you like them so much,” he sneered, looking away. thunderclash hummed, oblivious to rodimus’ internal conflict with his arising emotions.

“you’re right. that should be our next topic of discussion,” he said thoughtfully. rodimus perked up at his revelation. well that flopped!

“wait—”

“thank you, rodimus!”

rodimus sulked for the rest of the day like the baby he is

thunderclashes persistence reflected how enamored he was by you, it didn’t take you long to succumb to his endeavor of getting you to go out on a date with him

it went from gifting you the snacks or little trinkets you were fairly fond of, to him stuffing his processor full of your current interest so you could talk to him for hours and listen to your ramblings

lets just say… he successfully wooed you! #gothunderclash. soon enough, he had you whisked away on a date he thought would be full of enjoyment

don’t worry rodimus will have his time to shine! (i hope) he had no break as he had to sit there, pretending to care about your growing relationship with the legendary autobot as you ranted to him

#lost light #transformers mtmte #x reader #idw thunderclash #idw rodimus #transformers x reader

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fumifooms · 10 months ago

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"Marchil? I guess I can see it on Chilchuck’s end, but what about Marcille’s? What makes you think she could develop feelings for him?" I’m glad you asked!

The first thing to note is that she does think highly of him

In the page on the right, literally defending his virtues and literally comparing him to Dalclan. And oh…

She does love a brooding mysterious guy who closes himself to love. But surely, Chilchuck isn’t her type at all, right? He’s not princely or knightly at all. In apperances certainly not, both looks wise and demeanor wise, but then that’s why she seeks to know him on a deeper level, to not only look shallowly.

And hmm. Chilchuck really is quite selfless isn’t he? Always looking out for others, and saving specifically her often, always making sure himself and, staying in or even running towards danger for her sometimes. Modesty is often considered heroic…

And can we talk about that drowning one… You can definitely frame the special attention as him knowing she tends to hesitate or be clumsy, and then his insistance on pulling her out of danger that she’s the healer aka the most important to keep alive, but. From the one who says that he just keeps his ass out of fights and won’t help this is a lot of risk to take, and he does die trying to pull her to safety in the dungeon rabbits chapter. And the drowning bit??? That’s when the dungeon collapses. The only reason they DON’T die of drowning here is that the water then gives way to outside. There was NO hope of pulling her to safety here and resurrections would likely not work either, he truly preferred to die with her than try to survive himself.

Sit your ass back DOWN you are in no state, self-sacrifical hero much damn

And Marcille definitely noticed this imo, after all she loves learning all she can about him, remembering things like how he hates waiting on people too. She pays attention to him and what he does and what he says. This to say that it’s notable, whatever reason for it you may think (though we know by this point at least she was already aware he was an adult though it wasn’t internalized), out of everyone it’s Chilchuck’s bed that she wants to sleep in during the Golden Kingdom stay. He’s safe and comforting to her: dependable, the defining trait in her view of him as is shown by the relationship chart in the Adventurer’s Bible.

^ Lending handkerchiefs is a romance trope btw and handkerchiefs have irl history of being used for courting. Especially in old English literature and plays like Shakespeare’s Othello, and personally I do see a lot of Shakespeare in Dalclan (nobility political drama with some romance). There’s how his cowl is a dearly beloved souvenir from his family too, there’s a lot of aesthetic tropes you can apply to him.

All this to say you can 100% romanticize Chilchuck into a princely noble guy if you try and that’s exactly what Marcille does with the wife roleplay. She doesn’t need much in the first place, she latches onto crumbs and makes aesthetic narratives out of details, give her an inch she’ll take a mile.

But what’s interesting about the shift throughout the arc of her and his relationship is that she starts out idealizing him into a little angel of a kid (shapeshifter), and she ends it idealizing him as a virtuous husband and family man instead.

And what’s doubly interesting is that in the former, she’s actively warping who he is personality and demeanor wise to fit the aesthetic, he doesn’t have that bitter pride of not asking for help and the edges have been smoothened. But what she does during the wife roleplay is something else, she acknowledges the flaws and just… Accepts them, rolls with them. She’s aware of his flaws and implements them into the narrative, but the reason why his wife left doesn’t capitalize on them even, rather Chil is chilblivious and his wife loves him very much still, she’s just testing him after having had a night of feeling out of place at his side.

And this is what separates the idealization vs romanticization, she’s not twisting him into someone else she’s just uplifting what he is and focusing on the good sides.

Marcille: "he has a shitty personality sometimes but if he was my husband I’d still cherish him" "If I were your wife I’d be overjoyed to go out with you and would get myself prettied up while you complain about me taking a long time, your friends would tell me that I’m nice and that’d make me happy, but I’d also be sad because you wouldn’t tell me that you love me enough"

He’s angry and his wife left him, he’s *flawed*, but he’s still worth hyping up, still worth having his own romance story, still has a shot of winning back his beloved. She sees him for what he is, human and real and not a carefully scripted character that fits an aesthetic, and she thinks it’s still worthy of love and admiration and fighting for

And what’s funny too is that you might expect her to cool down on him once she learns more about him but actually she only gets increasingly into his business. You tell her your age and next thing you know you promise to introduce her to your family. Give her an inch she takes a mile. And too the thing is, Senshi is equally mysterious but she doesn’t pester him like at all, asks him ONCE about his succubus and he doesn’t even answer and that’s like… It. With Chilchuck it starts off innocently enough with her wanting to know his age, hometown, the stuff she mentions having asked pre-canon. But it just keeps and keeps going and escalating. Think she’ll be satisfied now knowing you have a wife and kids, maybe she’s disillusioned now? Wrong! She wants to know their names and ages and occupations and hey how did you propose to your wife? Do you think she’ll stop after meeting them? What’s next? What will she want to know next????

She’s… Like it’s not a reach that Marcille is all over him. Like it doesn’t mean it’s romantic but she just is. She is not normal about him idk. Can you not ask him about what tongue technique he used when first kissing his wife, give the man breathing room

Marcille could literally go "if I was Chilchuck’s wife" having deeply pondered and thought out the hypothetical and people would still ask where anyone sees any romantic potential between them. Oh wait

There’s a platonic explanation for everything (almost?) in Dungeon Meshi don’t say I’m saying otherwise, but it’s definitely not like there’s nothing here to read into lol

Going off a bit more under read bc it’s my fave topic

Marcille has a whole theme with the charming prince trope with her idealization and storybook motif and Chil is kinda the "Well someone perfect like that isn’t very realistic and romance is usually more complex and that’s ok and good and flawed people can still be ✨virtuous✨" catalyst

Do you see do you see she starts canon thinking the most romantic thing is a prince charming but her arc in the end has her romanticizing an average, flawed, real and realistic family man, who’s on the poorer side and is on the verge of divorce. And that’s what he needed, too, seeing the positive of himself and the situation instead of focusing on the negative is explicitly what inspires him to hope that he might be able to reconcile with his wife, gives him the courage and self-esteem to shoot his shot.

He IS a prince figure instead that now it’s not about idealizing the grand and overt it’s about romanticizing the small things in real life!! About finding joy and beauty in things that seem normal or mundane and uplifting them to make the world feel kinder!!!!

He’s the devoted virtuous man that she wantsss not the storybook prince that’s unrealistic and could crumble like a script at any time. He’s the perfect example of a flawed realistic but virtuous & devoted & loving man. Far from a prince charming, but not fully detached from it either. Something worth fighting for despite the flawed cracks. Like literally, flawed romance being worth fighting for is literally the finale of Chilchuck and Marcille’s arc on the matter, where their separate arcs and issues intersect at the most crucial moment.

Marcille is important to Chil’s arc not only because of her optimism, but also because of her interest and knowledge in romance & matters of the heart, and that’s what he needs to both open his heart up to hope and to try to reconcile with his wife, like idk sounds gay

Their arc together is literally learning to 1) see each other for how they are and not undermining their qualities capacities etc etc while still not leaving flaws unchecked either and 2) opening up to people. Marcille LITERALLY makes Chil open his heart up to hope like idk man. What do you want from me. He’s literally the guy helping her through deconstructing novels and fantasy and rose tinted glasses and like. Deconstructing the prince charming figure into something more real but still romantically beautiful like KUI KUI STOOOOP STOP I’M ALREADY HOOKED I’M ALREADY-

Ok fine that’s me reading into the tropes too much forgive me for being storybook brained but like. Speaking his heart out to a lone woman on a balcony, Romeo and Juliette shit, asking if she, too, doesn’t want to meet his family, madly blushing. And like she’s learned with Chilchuck it’s all in the little things, all the implications he cannot speak aloud. She does reciprocate, does blush madly back, and the first thing she does is shower him in flowers and jewelry and what in her heart is coded as romantic gifts

A lady, stashed away in a high tower by her lonesome, waiting for someone to call out to her from below… Romeo courting type shit with an offer, a heartfelt spiel, implicit confession from underneath her balcony. Offering him flowers because he succeeded in calling out to her heart…….. And they have to climb to her too…. Crazy

Doesn’t it sound like a proposal. One that’s both so storybook-like and not, contrastedly real and grounded, all about the implications rather than in your face grand gestures, "Don’t you want to meet my family?". They literally have an arc about the topic of romance and this is the climax/pinnacle of it like god?? This is @ the woman who said "Chilchuck is a shy/bashful man so I know he wouldn’t tell me he loves me, but…" btw

To quote a friend, truly the shiny secret unlockable dating sim capture target : THE DUNGEON LORD BIT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE HE KNEW SHE'D TAKE IT HOOK LINE AND SINKER HES THE ONE WHO GOT HER TO TURN AROUND COMPLETELY SHES LIKE. WIDE EYED FLAG RAISED???? FLAG RAISED WITH CHILCHUCK 👀👀👀‼️👀👀‼️👀

And the way that this is the culmination of their arc together… Like people are not ready for the ‘Chil calling out to dunlord Marcille on the balcony has Romeo and Juliette romance novels imagery’ take. Or the ‘their arc is about growing to see beauty even in the non-idealized, in the flawed and in the real’ take which makes it so so perfect if she were to lower her ideal from a charming elven prince to a virtuous halfling man (which she does end up romanticizing)

So there, you got to witness in real time what happens when I think about marchil for longer than 2 minutes, there are so many layers it’s a deranged rabbithole. I saw the necronomicon of subtext and it’s driving me to madness with forbidden knowledge that no one else sees

……. Like what if I told you she implicitly picked Chilchuck over a "unrealistic prince charming who’s actually disingenuous" much earlier in the story already. If she was given the choice to think through going with a guy that seems perfect and chivalrous like her succubus she’d pick Chilchuck over the other actually. If I sound insane rn tune in for my full analysis on them coming this month hopefully thank youu. Interwoven arcs of fantasy vs reality and idealization vs pessimism I love youuu

So now you know the general thesis of my planned analysis about the importance of the prince charming figure in Marcille and Chilchuck’s arc, where she romanticizes things to a sometimes worrying degree or idealize people into something easy and digestible and poetic (like Chil being a kid, and then him being a virtuous ✨✨✨husband), and how she needs to value aesthetics less and actual acts and facts more, be more grounded (like seeing people for what they are flaws and all, and accepting that people need money and not pulling through on principles of honor or unity shouldn’t get Namari shamed) and a part of that is accepting that Chilchuck is BOTH flawed and virtuous, a loving husband that still has shitty moods and fumbled his marriage so bad etc etc. So it’s like, her image of perfect prince charming that will whisk you away on an ethereal romance -> realistic flawed middle aged dad with personality issues and a failing marriage but he still is worthy of love and having his cute grand romance story and his happy ending. Ik I keep repeating the same point through this but I need it to be burned into everyone’s brains it has its grip on me I can’t do this. They are so special……

#Someone did ask (on discord) btw i’m not just being a smartass though I do love being that too #This is stuff I cover in my upcoming marcille & chil arc analysis except here I can go full romo and don’t keep the strictly platonic angle #It’s at like 15k words rn I think. The 30 pics limit is killing me which is why I started asking my friend to do collages of panels for me #Sob #I keep alternating between it and the Falin analysis save me. Should be dropping soon idk i might test out having a beta reader for that on #Marchil foreplay is 2 years of being coworkers and slowly worming personal questions out of him until he blinks and she has #a key to his house #Dungeon meshi #marchil #marcille donato #chilchuck tims #like they’re so so funny look at this shit. Nonconsensual romanticizing of you as a person. Obsessive interest in your personal life #She’s latched so hard onto the “mystery” of him they’re deranged #MAYBE ITS ALL COMPROMISES MAYBE ITS ALL SWEET INBETWEENS <3 #maybe we'll take our vision of what we thought we could be and make something new together. something for just us #Fumi rambles #Maaan Marcille’s ‘idealizing him into liking him even for all his flaws bc his personality is often kinda shitty’ arc’#and Chilchuck’s ‘prejudice against elves and mages and optimism into respect and trust’ arc are everything to me #Meta #Spoilers #Dungeon meshi manga spoilers #Tagged this so late oops #It’s so funny. She’s canonically wondered how Chil would be like as a lover #No no but like do u see. Fantasy is a key part of her chrcter and arc and he’s the foil to that he’s the thing that comes challenge it

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gingersnaptaff · 3 months ago

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who are the main characters in welsh arthurian mythos?

Hi anon! You know, I looked at this question and just fuckin DIED with GLEE! Ehdhdjdhdjd I LOVE SHIT LIKE THIS!!!!! SHDJDJDH

First off, Arthur is pretty big. He's less a king and more of a warlord, but there's still a lot of cultural reverence for him in Welsh things. Seriously, Henry VII - a notable faux-Welshman - named his firstborn son Arthur purely because he was going to be Prince of Wales. Also, in Culhwch and Olwen his retinue has TWO Welsh GODS in it - Manawydan and Pryderi (my beloveds.) Idk what they're doing in it but I am inordinately pleased that they are there.

Also, Uther Pendragon / Uther Ben. Taliesin wrote a poem about him which is super fun. (Also, oddly enough Taliesin himself HAS been linked into Arthurian legends on multiple occasions. He's also another Arthur-type in that he's still regarded as tooling the line between mythical and real.)

Gwenhwyfar is also important even though she takes a back seat. Speculation is rife about whether she had a quest/myth about her (sorta like Culhwch and Olwen) and also her name means 'white phantom!' BRING IT BACK. I, for one, think she definitely did have a quest attributed to her in which Arthur had to do something to get her hand in marriage but idk WHAT.

Also, she's a GIANT!!!!!!!! EJDJDKDKDKD

Gwalchmai is also Super Important. There's speculation as to whether he was a mythical character who got implanted into the mythos or if he was always Atthur's nephew. Basically, he's a giant and he kills giants. Seriously, he's CONSTANTLY killing giants in the mythos. Plus he is called 'Gwalchmai Golden / Silver-tongued' in poetry too. In the Mabinogion, he's very often the one to soothe discord between the other knights so he's very diplomatic too.

Cai and Bedwyr, obviously! They come as a pair. Do Not Separate. Now, Cai is sometimes also seen to be a giant but his dad is Cynyr Ceinfarfog who was a real king. He ruled Dyfed and was the dad of Saint Non and, therefore, grandad to SAINT DAVID. (Wales' patron saint!) So Cai, like Arthur, has a saintly lineage. Before the French Romances shifted his character into the more recognisable Kay, Arthur's grumpy seneschal, Cai was a warrior of great renown. And literally superhuman. Like, nobody would received from.a blow from his sword, he could brave fire and water like nobody else, he has the ability to go nine nights and days without sleep or the need to breathe. He's a ledge.

Now, Bedwyr! Again he's a great warrior and ONE-ARMED. He's called Bedwyr Bedrydant (Bedwyr of the Perfect Sinew) and he's HOT SHIT. Seriously, he's like the most beautiful Knight in Arthur's court. The 10th-century poem 'pa gur' says that assailants 'fell by the hundred / before Bedwyr of the Perfect sinew ... fighting with Garwlwyd/ furious with sword and shield.' (Also, BTW Garwlwyd is possibly a werewolf.)

They have to put up with SO MUCH SHIT from Arthur's escapades it's ridiculous. They had to convince Arthur not to intervene in a King abducting a princess and carrying her back to his court, ffs. Give them a HOLIDAY. WITH SALMON TAXIS.

Now, I would say Merlin BUT he is added later into the mythology. He isn't there straight off. But he is Welsh. He's FUN. He was apparently based on Myrddin Wyllt. He went mad, and lived in a forest. His bestie was a king who died.

Now, I also think Owain, and Geraint on account of their having stories written about them but they're two kings who got folded into the mythos a bit later. Urien (Owain's dad) is another example.

Also, Macsen Wledig too. But again writers melded him in later. And I mean this in the sense that he and Arthur share similarities in how they're perceived in Welsh culture.

Anyways, anon, I hope this helps. I'm probably forgetting a TONNE of characters (Peredur, for one.) But I Don't want to bore you or make anybody trawl through this unwillingly so I shall stop! Hopefully, this helps! Thank u for the question!!!!

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randomdwellerr · 7 months ago

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Hello, I really liked your priest Alucard, reading it being or having another job was fun and great, do you think you can expand it? As if he managed to lock the reader in the basement of the church and when they started looking for her, priest Alucard feigned concern, but when he was with his beloved captive in the basement, he told her what the others were doing to find her, while Alucard had her. To satisfy him, you can include NSFW, if you feel comfortable. And if this idea doesn't catch your attention, you can ignore it.

A/N: I’M SO HAPPY SOMEONE FINALLY REQUESTED SOMETHING! Thank you soo much. I hope u like the story <3 Also clean up on Aisle my pants, it’s something ab mentally unstable Alucard that just.. If anyone here is slutty, it’s Alucard for looking like that in this gif.

Priest Alucard Part 2

Warnings: Hypocrite Alucard, power imbalances, kidnapping & isolation, choking, creampie, brief nipple play, drugging, lmk if anything else.

“Missing?” Alucard rubbed his chin in thought, “what is her family saying happened?”

“Her Mother said she probably ran away and that’d she be back before long.” A Young man who had been attending the Priest’s Sunday classes since they started, answered him from across the round table. “We should still search for her though.”

The boy, whose name was Pip, had been the one to bring up your disappearance in the first place. Shifting the Groups conversation from how to find God in your everyday life to how you were most likely taken.

The Youth had begun to chatter amongst themselves, putting together and deconstructing each other’s theories regarding your disappearance.

Someone speculated that you had ran away with a lover and went to live as Modern Bonnie and Clyde. Another person wondered how you could have left without a trace, not even taking any shoes, make up, or even clothes. Alucard would interject from time to time, fueling people’s wild ideas with little hms of agreement or occasionally giving his own opinion.

Before long the church bells rung alerting the group that it was now 2:30 and time for the meeting to adjourn.

“Alright young ones,” Alucard had silently moved from his seat at the head of the table to doorway, “it was nice seeing you all as usual.” The Priest had taken to shaking everyone’s hand as they shuffled passed him and back into the Sanctuary. All but one person had left the study room.

“Are you alright Mr Bernadotte?” Alucard faced the Young man, who had taken to standing behind his chair. Pip wore an eye patch but his one visible eye swirled with many, many emotions. The most notable one being his worry for you.

“I’m fine Father,” the boy shifted his weight from his left leg to his right before walking to the door, “I just hope (Y/N) is ok.”

Pips empathy made the Priest’s eyes narrow slightly. Just what was your relationship with this young man?

Well whatever it was, it definitely wouldn’t be happening anymore. That Alucard was sure of.

A still second passed before Alucard’s hand lifted to pat the boys shoulder, “Pray for her.”

Sudden fiery footsteps followed by a blur of blonde hair ran up to the two Men before grabbing Pip from the Priest.

“Come on, we need to catch up with everyone else.”

As Seras dragged Pip away, he called over his shoulder to Alucard, “You pray too Father..”

The Priest watched the couple walk away down the hallway, their conversation drifted from his ears, before he turned on his heel and started for the basement. Alucard hymned lowly as he turned into a different hallway, his song reaching a crescendo as his hands found a rusty door knob. The door squealed as he opened and closed it behind himself.

His boots echoed through the cellar as he trekked into the inky darkness, his fingers danced in the air before pulling on a floating thread, for a lightbulb, that illuminated the lower floor.

Oh lord in heaven, seeing you like this awakened something forbidden in the Priest’s gut.

Wth no pillow or blanket, you tightly curled into a ball on a mattress, that was tucked so carefully, into the far right corner.

The drug he had procured from a traveling merchant seemed to be working well. Alucard cooed at how docile you seemed as he stepped closer to your bed. The Merchant had advised him to not use more then half of a tablet at a time but Alucard couldn’t wait and had anxiously slipped the whole capsule into your mug.

The Priest couldn’t control his excitement then and he couldn’t now (not that he truly tried to anyway), as he kicked the donated bed you slept on.

You were probably dreaming of how to tempt other men, that thought made him hit the mattress harder the next time.

“Wake up,” noticing that you still didn’t move Alucard began to grow concerned.

Had he actually put too much in your drink?

Impatient outweighed his sympathy as the Priest bent down to shake your shoulder, “get up now.”

Alucard forwent all decency, instead his shaking became rough, as he unconsciously started to dig his nails into the bone of your shoulder blade.

The pain must have been enough as you lethargically sat up. You shielded your face from the light with your hand as Alucard crouched closer, he used one hand to grip your chin and the other still clutching your shoulder.

Your throat was coarse as you reached out to him, “Father?”

Fog blanketed your mind, and its heaviness couldn’t be dispelled by simply shaking your head. When your finger tips grazed Alucard he reeled back, removing both of his hands from you and stood to his full height again.

“Don’t touch me.”

Your body slumped slightly as your arm fell. The Priest sneered down at you, his words carried by abject disgust.

Alucard lips settled into a line as he watched you look around the basement, he loved the frightened way your eyes jumped around the room.

“Do you like it?” He stepped to the side to let you get a good look at everything. Well, maybe not, as the only things down there was the mattress you laid on and a door to your left that opened to a cramped bathroom, “this is your new home!”

A noise of surprise, or perhaps fear, tumbled passed your lips.

Alucard faked a pout, “so you don’t like it? I put so much effort into making it livable for you.”

“Even cleaned up all the cobwebs,” the Priest snickered at your expression, “close your mouth you look foolish.”

Your jaw clamped shut at his teasing, making Alucard rear his head back and laugh louder, “oh dear, do I have to tell you to do everything?”

Your sight was blurred with beady tears, Father Alucard wasn’t usually so callous, in fact there had been a time when he listened to you cry about how unfair life was to you. Before.. before your relationship changed.

But even after that, Alucard had been so kind to you, sure he was a bit on the rougher side in bed, but you didn’t mind. If anything you preferred to be held down tightly by his thick hands.

Now wasn’t the time to reminisce though, even though Father wasn’t a man of few words but he always meant what he said.

“My new home?” Blinking away the wetness that clouded your eyes was nearly impossible when it kept flooding back in again. Not being able to see Father’s expression somehow made the situation worse. You knew he was looking over you in distain, but not having the opportunity to look away, made you feel the weight of it instead. The pressure from his glower was crushing your brain along with any thoughts it contained.

“Yes dear, you would do well to adjust to your living arrangements sooner then later..” His words hung heavily in the air.

How could you adjust to this life when you never asked to be here?

“What’s wrong, little dove,” Father bent at the waist to twirl on a loose strand of your hair, “was I mistaken in thinking we had a connection?”

You didn’t know what to say. Because you really had felt it too, that undeniable spark the first time he had taken you inside a cramped confessional. It had taken a while to find a comfortable position, multiple times your knees knocked into his.

But soon enough, one of Alucard’s hands was wrapped around your throat, stopping any cries before they could released, while his other was wrapped around your upper body to hold you up, sinfully coarse fingers pinched and pulled your nipples. You lived the vitality brought on by Alucard trailing his palm down your stomach to grind it against your clit. You definitely felt the sparks when his Cossack would dig into your back, as he’d lean down to nip at your neck just above your pulse point. All the while, his hips would remain unrelenting against yours, creating loud slaps that were completely muffled out by the sound proofing of the small space.

Even close to his orgasm, Father never, ever, let up. His pace remained steady, the only sign that he was close to relief was a low rumble he’d release just before he emptied his holy ball sack into you. And Alucard always came inside you too, he said contraception was the true devil and that if you got pregnant, that’d be a bridge crossed when you got there. So, in other words, you guys were lucky.

Luck runs out though, which is probably how you had ended up here anyway.

“I don’t know, this is too—.”

You were words meshed into a pained whimper as Father went from stroking your hair to pulling on it so harshly, that your head titled in response.

“You don’t know??” Alucard’s tone was incredulous, “you’re finally somewhere I can take care of you and that’s all you can say?”

Alucard continued to pull your hair, and in turn your head, closer to the mattress.

“That just won’t do at all.”

Earlier’s unshed tears now streamed down your face in fat droplets. Your eyes crinkled but in a brief moment of clarity you could make out Father’s cruel smile.

Alucard truly was the devil in disguise.

#hellsing alucard x reader smut #alucard x reader smut #hellsing smut #hellsing alucard x reader #alucard x reader #alucard smut #hellsing

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sillyassboy · 1 year ago

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i should post here more ive grown too accustomed to twitter's character limit

anyway something that's been on my mind about bugbo recently is the way ive tried to kinda shift the perception of the series one way a bit too hard. when i saw even the slightest chance of people seeing bugbo as a horror series or an ARG with deep lore or whatever , i wanted to put it out there multiple times that this wasn't my intention at all and that bugbo was mostly just a stupid fun series in the style of old 2000s flash animations.

anyway im kinda worried now that people are using this to dismiss Any possible meaning behind the series. i love seeing people's interpretations, and there Are genuine things I want to convey through the characters. theres still no meta deep lore, that's for sure, but there a few characters, most notably bugbo and gerbo, who i have very specific ideas for in my head of what kind of people they are. if there's anything in the series to analyse, it's the characters.

I am kind of a dumbass sometimes so a lot of things in the series might contradict each other, but I really want to make sure at least the characters remain consistent. the worldbuilding is absolute nonsense, yes, and a lot of what happens in the series is comedic and stupid and played for laughs, but i really hope I can give everyone a concrete idea on what the characters are like. so far I think it's been relatively successful but im also worried that my constant re-iterating of bugbo just being Stupid Fun may have fucked with that a little bit. there is very much a certain way I want you all to see bugbo and gerbo, who I consider the two main characters.

and while im rambling about bugbo I wanna say here, don't get used to the tone of a familiar foe. as proud as i am of what we did for that episode, i consider it the tonal limit for the series right now. future episodes will be more in line with the feel of episode 1-2, and they will Definitely be shorter for the most part

ok bugbo ramble over

#bugbo #bugbo series #bensilly #this is a post from me BENSILLY!#fun and games and whatnot

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cozymochi · 2 months ago

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What is your secret/tips when it comes to analyzing the art style and anatomy of TWST? 👀

Studying the rest of Toboso’s work as it was presented over time and how it evolved, identifying it, noting the patterns, breaking down how she came to the visual conclusions she did on top of what process is probably being taken in regards to twst, and putting that into practice when going off the beaten path to do my own thing with it.

I don’t know if that makes any sense. It’s just master studies. I’ve done it with Takahashi, Toriyama and a myriad of other artists I’ve liked. It’s kind of why my junk can kinda shift around when I feel like it. I have some gripes with that links wording, but it’s basically just that and not some grand secret. I only really came to a better understanding of how twst is constructed extremely recently when I got my physical hands on the first artbook. Then I realized how much I was overthinking. [shitty scans are my own]

You can even see the ghost lines and more of the uncertainties on where elements should go, and how they were ultimately changed.

Something about seeing the original card art completely broken down with notes and without all the bells snd whistles (and definitively from Toboso herself) kind of put into perspective how twst isn’t as complicated it seems to be when it’s cleaned up. It might be just me, but looking at a solely finished work can potentially skew someone’s perspective, especially if the only thing being noted is coloring- a completely seperate step altogether. Which I see a lot of, tbh. I’m not exempt no matter how deep in the rabbit hole I get.

But—

But, I probably shouldn’t be the one talking since I have like… [redacted] years of having a trained eye for that sort of thing.

I’m not too concerned about coloring ( again, separate step, and not even done by her), it’s the drawing part. That’s the actual meat and potatoes. So, someone could see competent twst coloring mastered but the drawings themselves aren’t really following the general processes at play, and folk will still call it the “twst style.” So, whenever anyone says that, even here, I’m not sure what others mean by that. What is this alleged “twst style?” (Disclaimer: Rhetorical)

Yeah it’s a combination of every element at once (as every style is), but as far as my learning goes- I define the quote “twst style” is just Yana Toboso’s general artwork (notably from the 2020s, but the rest are helpful). Even if there are other artists in D-6th that are contributing. They’re all essentially trying to accomplish a unified look and that unified look is based off of hers. So, I don’t find looking at just twisted wonderland itself all that beneficial, low key. I’ll look over Black Butler, her miscellaneous fanart, her disney fanart, whatever happens to cross my path that I think would be informative for my purposes. Again, I’m not looking at every possible thing ever, obviously, just what I think would be informative.

I’m not sure how often anyone thinks about that. Especially since her visual process just carries over nearly 1:1, even if her point of reference and intent on designing something changed.

It’s like how Snake from Black Butler and Silver look pretty similar. No, it’s not from being “lazy” which- side note I hate those bad faith reads, total peeve.

Designing Snake and designing Silver came from two completely separate and unrelated intentions nearly a decade apart from each other. It just happens there are tropes that she clearly likes as an artist when designing characters. I’m more inclined to believe based on what I’ve read and practiced that it’s just a case of that, nothing more.

Which makes me reflect on a lot of my own repeated visual tropes. Such as how a lot of my female character designs always end up having some form of short curly hair, meanwhile the male characters keep having long hair 😩 God knows the wavy asymmetrical swoop bang rearing it’s head. It’s not intentional, but it keeps happening anyway.

That’s the kinda joint I’m talking about with master studies. Again, not just looking at something and trying to mimic it, it does go into trying to break down the process even at that level.

All this reminds me of this conversation I overheard in college while I was stuck doing printmaking work— some person said they, really wanted to draw like the guy who made Naruto since they liked his artstyle. Only for some other guy to cut in like “No, you shouldn’t do that! That’s not original :/ you should figure out your own original style first” or something to that end. I partially wish I butt in to that conversation. I didn’t much like how quick that guy shut that person down either.

Because… That’s… that’s not even remotely how that works? How can a person even find their own style/voice/whatever without studying the work of someone that came before them? If they wanna draw like that mangaka, then let them learn via that avenue. You can’t work backwards starting from nowhere. I even learned that in character design.

This person would have learned a lot more about how the process works and what works for them in their attempts to understand his style. They’d find their own organically after that. It’d also be more fun for them in the moment since they’re focusing on something they like. Then when it comes time to learn the boring (but important) stuff like fundamentals, they’d be able to articulate themselves more and identify what they’re doing. (Don’t knock art history and bring stuck breaking down meaning in seemingly “useless” stuff.)

But I’m starting to digress on the common “ugh im not original and unique enough if im not immediately doing my own thing from scratch” thing I saw/ overheard too much during my years at that campus. (It also led to me seeing zero progression from beginning to end from those peers)

As for the whole twst art thing, I can’t really tell you what conclusions to draw should any of this be put into practice. That’s not up to me to say.

I’m of the mindset that if you can sufficiently understand at least one art style, you can pretty much do anything else you want.

Take that with what you will.

#cozy ask #twstposting #did it with a bunch of different folk 🤧#and unknowingly did it with uekawa from the sonic series #when i was a kid #So most of that process to me is second nature but i only had a word for it when i was in highschool.#THIS IS ALL PROBABLY SUPER BORING AND NOT ALL THAT INSIGHTFUL.

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