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artemiseamoon · 2 years

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Pt 1: It wasn’t supposed to be this

A narcos mx one shot | Calderoni x Slate f agent*

Words: 6,200 | read on A03

Fic info | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 -finale

An: I made an exception and posted this in full. Anyway, I’m going back to my system after this, just previews on tumblr.

Warnings: violence, mention of injuries and blood, drinking, vague sexual content, drug traffickers, character deaths, lots of angst

Narcos disclaimer: I fully understand how sensitive all this is, which is why I struggled with writing for the show or not. But, I do, and I enjoy it so don’t plan to stop anytime soon. The show is naturally a very real trigger, so off the bat, you are triggered, block the narcos tag. I’m only one of many who write for this show (I blame the actors, it’s their fault, they charmed us). Filter the tag and save yourself and the writers unnecessary exchanges. Criminals, drug traffickers, drugs, really bad people who hurt so many are talked about in this show. In writing these little stories I’m not trying to erase that or gloss it over. Now that I’ve said my peace, remember it’s fully your choice if you continue and your fault if you get upset not mine. Last, if you don’t like the fic/story just move on. Plenty of other things to read. Don’t waste my time. Plenty of other fics around.

The full realization of what happened last night hit during the shower. She drank a lot; this job is stressful, and she usually limited herself to one beer or one drink as a calming agent for a few reasons; to keep in control and to avoid letting her defenses down.

Last night, she lost both those battles and ended up in bed with the Calderoni. Slate couldn't put her finger on why she was drawn to him. They didn’t trust him, she didn’t either he’s not even her usual type but there was something about him.

As they worked with him over the last four weeks, she shoved her curiosity away and denied it was real. She chalked it up to horniness, it had been a very long time since she got laid; a full two months before she came down on this mission. And hooking up locally was out of the question, with anyone in her team? An absolute no, a completely bad idea. Living in abandoned warehouse with a bunch of dudes really limited her private time, so self-pleasure was also not an option.

Maybe all the drinking, combined with a need to get laid led to this. Still, Calderoni didn’t seem like the type to just end up in someone's bed. The man was like a fucking wall; he said what he had to say, made his point, and wasn’t trying to make friends. So maybe the curiosity was mutual, had to be.

Calderoni never outright flirted with Slate, in fact, she was sure he was pretty indifferent to her at first. But then she caught it, the briefest lingering stares, the short, well-hidden glances when he thought she wasn’t looking. At the time, she didn’t know if the attention excited her, scared her, or a little of both.

Slate was thankful he was gone upon waking, seeing him in the light of day, would make all of this worse and she was pretty sure Walt was likely losing his shit because she hadn’t checked in yet. To be fair, she wasn’t that late, just 10 minutes or so. But he already wasn’t a fan of her leaving the place for the night, no matter what bullshit reason she gave him.

...

Walking into the warehouse after a night in a real bed and a decent hotel made it feel gritter than usual. With her shades still on, Slate found the guys gathered into one room.

“Look who decided to join us.” Ossie commented with a grin.

Slate flipped him off and he chuckled. She sat on the edge of the L shaped countertop and sipped her coffee.

Though she felt Walt's stare, she didn’t make eye contact. “I needed a night away from all you stinky boys and a damn shower.”

The reply seems good enough for most, except Walt, who continued to observe her.

She's not too worried though, she's known him a long time. “So, fill me in, what's going on.” She sets the coffee cup aside.

Walt took out a cigarette, lit it, then caught her up with the few minutes she missed.

-The Next day-

Back pressed against the wall, Slate crossed her arms and listened intently as Calderoni addressed the room. It took some work, but she was able to shift the events from a day ago to the back of her mind.

“Felix was in Panama last month, meeting with members of the Cali Cartel.” He walked into the center of the room, hands in his pockets. His profile was still facing the group.

“What was on the agenda?” Walt asked. Calderoni made eye contact with him and stopped walking.

Calderoni responded, “Not sure, but it ended with Felix committing to move more weight. Lots more.”

“Why now?”

"El Padrino’s feeling the pressure.” Calderoni switched to Spanish at this point.

With the tension between the plazas, this intel could be a big win; it had to be connected. Slate and Ossie look at each other, then back at Calderoni.

Calderoni rested his palms flat against the table. “There’s been talk of major construction somewhere outside of Juarez.”

“Construction of what?” Daryl asked.

“Runways.” Calderoni responded. He flipped open the folder he previously placed on the table. Everyone moved closer, including Slate. Walt remained on the opposite side of the table, beside Calderoni.

Calderoni continued, “Amado Carrillo Fuentes. Used to be some kind of pilot, among other things.” Walt examined the file as Calderoni addressed at the group, “Now, Felix has him buying up passenger planes.”

Slate doesn’t hold his gaze for too long, she breaks away first and leans over the table to view the file. This is weird. Just play it cool.

Gaining control of her thoughts again, Slate’s eyes moved to Walt as he spoke. “Federation’s building their own air fleet.”

“And running it out of Juarez.” It’s the first comment she’s made since the meeting started; her voice almost felt unfamiliar to her ears.

Walt adds, “Yeah, if we can pin down Felix’s distribution hub, then we can unlock his entire route network.” Walt hands the file over to Danilo.

Daryl spoke next, “Track shipments across the border, pick them up one by one.”

“That’s right,” Walt nodded, “bleed the motherfucker.”

Done with the file, Danilo passed it to Slate who looked it over before passing it to Ossie and Amat.

Walt leaned over the table. “Starve him of his cash until the government cuts him off.” His eyes met Daryl's. “You know, hang him out to dry.”

“Now, we need to track Amado and the purchase of planes. Especially in large numbers. Maybe discount sales.” Slate said.

Calderoni made eye contact with her, before addressing the group again, “well, Amado just bought a one-way ticket to Belmopan, Belize.”

“What the fuck for?” Ossie asked.

Slate looked at him, then Walt, “Let me guess, an out of business airline getting rid of planes?”

Impressed, Calderoni raised a brow. “That’s where Aero Tropical is based. It’s an airline. It used to be. They just declared bankruptcy. They’re liquidating their entire fleet at an auction next week.”

Walt’s eyes scanned the group, “Looks like we're going to Belize.”

-One week later, Belize-

This might be a win, and it feels damn good.

At the same time. Slate doesn’t get her hopes up. Wins were rare in this work, it's something one just got used to and had to find a reason to keep pushing, to keep trying to make some kind of difference. Some days it was easier than others. But right now, she feels glad she said yes when Walt asked, maybe all this could amount to something useful.

Though they’re here for work, it feels good being in a different setting, like a breath of fresh air. Not just because of the dusty ass warehouse, but because of the whole Calderoni situation.

What happened that night, when she grabbed a drink at the same bar he happened to be at, was never discussed. She went about her job like nothing happened, and even after the meeting last, he didn’t say anything extra to her; just spoke to her as needed according to the situation.

It seemed like that was the end of things. One messy ass slip up. One very wrong but sensual one night stand. Just as Slate was making amends with that fact, she found a little envelope slipped into her jacket pocket after he left.

She stepped away to the broken-down bathroom for privacy. Inside the small envelope was a room key, she recognized it from the other night, same hotel. They had eyes on him the whole time, how he got it in here? She wasn’t sure. On the back of the little envelope was some kind of code, but once she figured it out, she deciphered it as a time and a vague date.

One of the things about being on this crew is most of their time was spent sitting around, talking, coming up with plans, going over information for the 1000th time. Action was few and far in between. Now with this trip to plan, she knew she couldn't get away in the coming days, but from the code on the back, Calderoni was aware of that too.

She didn’t use the key until 5 days later, once all the travel plans were set and all their new equipment arrived. She didn't know if it was pure curiosity, or if she really wanted to see him again; but something led her to that room.

Upon stepping in, she was gently swept inside. Once the door was closed, and locked, his lips met hers. There was no talking, no conversation, just two people swept up in desire and need.

-Flashback-

After drying off with the towel, Slate started to get dressed. Calderoni was still in bed. Though her back was to him, she felt his eyes on her, but didn’t turn around.

“Being seen together once at the bar was dangerous enough, we need to be careful.” She slid her jeans back on and pulled the zipper up.

He sighed behind her, but it had a more relaxed tone to it.” Neither of us knew the other would be there.”

“Because it’s so out of the way.” She glanced at him over her shoulder with a smirk,” that was my hidden spot. Now I have to find another.”

“No,” he sat up against the headboard, “it was mine, then you showed up.”

She turned to face him, “I barely leave the safe house, except a couple of times to get a drink there. Now, I don’t even have that.” She poked his arm playfully.

Calderoni shrugged,” shit happens.”

“Asshole.” Slate chuckled and glanced at her watch. “I need to get back. And, if this happens again, we cannot come to his hotel.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he inched closer and gently caressed her bare back with his fingers. “Relax, there won't be any issue with this place. Trust me.”

Calderoni moved his fingers from her back to her arm, making feather light strokes over her soft skin.

“We’ll have to end this.” He said, his fingers wrapping around her arm with a tight grip before pulling her closer to him.

“I know.” Slate steadied herself with one hand as he drew her into another kiss. Her other hand cupped the side of his face. In between kisses, she whispered, “last time?”

“Last time, or” he slid one of his hands behind her head, “second to last time? Third to last?”

Slate smiled and kissed him once more before breaking away. “I guess we’ll see where the cards fall.” With her lips still tasting of him, she finished getting dressed and grabbed her things.

“I’ll have one of my guys drive you back, drop you off a block away.” He pushed the sheet off and started gathering his clothes. He stopped to look back at her, “Be careful.”

Slate tapped her holstered pistol then moved toward the door, “I usually am.”

-Flashback over-

Belize is beautiful, Slate reminds herself to come back some time, after all this is over and long in the past.

Glancing to her left, she sees Walt using the binoculars. To his left is Ossie, Danilo, then her. Amat, Daryl and Sal are taking care of the other end of things in Juarez.

The auctioneer: Next we have a 1779 Boeing 727, registration number N-1779. Featuring forward and rear galleys. Currently featuring 12 first class seats and 136 coach seats and this aircraft is ready, willing, and able…”

Her eyes drop to Danilo’s hands and his notes.

“We can get in through the north side of the fence. Bad sight line for security,” Ossie said quietly to Walt. They are in the furthest row from the auction, nosebleed seats with no one sitting directly next to them. But there are a few people in the row before them.

Walt replied, “Cut through. Two in, two outside for lookout.” He hands the binoculars over until they make it Slate. She takes a look and listens as they continue to talk.

Ossie, “We need radios. A ladder too.” he paused, chewing his gum. “We can get in through the rear airstairs, under the fuselage.”

“You figure it’s open? Can you even lock up a fucking 727?”

Ossie grinned.” Either way, I can pop the lock.”

“Of course, you can. Troublemaker” Slate commented with a smile. And for a fleeting second, a tiny grin flashed on Danilo's stoic expression too.

Ossie continued grinning for a little longer. Light banter is exchanged between the guys, with little interjection by Danilo.

“I definitely went astray somewhere,” Ossie stared straight ahead, “end up sitting here with you three broke motherfuckers.”

Danila makes a micro expression in response, Slate chuckled, and Walt turned to him,

“I got an amen to that.”

Slate adjusted her shades, while holding her grin a little longer, "You mean four broke motherfuckers.”

-Later that night-

The night sky was dark and starless; the only light is coming from the airstrip, the guard center, and the city in the distance.

Slate took a ground position, on the other side of where Danilo is in the jeep. Covering both angles was a good idea, and so far, everything was going as planned. With the mics, they could all hear and communicate with each other.

Carefully concealed, with a good vantage point, Slate continued watching through the binoculars.

Walt over the mic, “okay talk to me. Are we clear?”

“He’s still there.” Slate answered.

Danilo is watching the same thing she is. “Okay, hold on…"Up ahead the guard left the center and stepped outside. “Guard moving”

Slate and Danilo watch him enter this vehicle and head for the landing strip.

“He’s making his rounds.” She said,

Danilo waited a moment, then gave them the signal, “All clear. You’ve got three minutes. Go!”

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she waited. Her eyes dropped down to her watch, 2 minutes and 55 seconds to go.

55 seconds later, Danilo’s voice met their ears, “2 minutes, get a move in it.”

Two seconds passed by.

“Heads up. Security on the move.” She leaned forward, following the guards' movements. A nervous flutter filled her stomach. “Fuck, come on guys, hurry up.” She muttered under her breath. The guard's jeep is getting closer to where the guys are.

“Walt - " Danilo warned.

“Yeah, yeah. We see him. We see him.”

Ossie and Walt exchanged a few words, as Ossie worked on the lock.

Danilo, growing increasingly concerned, spoke again, “Walt, you’re running out of time.”

Slate watched closely with bated breath as the guys finally made it inside the plane. She continued holding her breath until the craft door closed. The guard drove by almost immensely after. “Thank fucking god,” she exhaled.

Everything fell quiet for a moment. The guard was now headed to Danilo's view and was out of hers.

Danilo's voice was next over the mic, “He’s going out again. You’ve got three minutes. Move!”

If Slate smoked, she would have a cigarette right now. She hated the things too much to ever indulge.

-Minutes later-

Danilo drove as Walt slipped a cigarette between his lips. His expression full of pride as he glanced back at Ossie. “Six for six baby. He’s a goddamned artist.”

Danilo glanced back through the rear-view mirror, “nice work”

A closed mouth smile grew on Ossie's face. “Thanks man.”

Sitting there, next to him, it almost feels like a proud father kind of moment, in both the way Danilo speaks and holds himself, and Ossie’s response.

Slate gently nudged him, “Nice job, that shit’s impressive as hell.”

Ossie’s smile grew a little wider, “thank you.”

Slate settled her eyes on the landscape through the window again. It’s been a while since everything felt so hopeful, and she hoped this is a feeling they can hold on to a little longer.

-Juarez - Early morning, Chiapas airfield-

Standing on the rocky dry edge, the group waited as Walt viewed the plane and its inhabitants, which included Amado.

Walt lowered the binoculars and turned to his team. “Alright. Find a spot to set up surveillance. Two teams. Sal, me and Amat work the first rotation.” he handed the binoculars to Sal. “This is it.” Walt paused. “Fuckin’ A.”

- Flashback, the day before -

The coffee was still too hot to drink, Slate placed it on the floor and fixed her eyes on Walt. The team is in a half circle, some sitting, some standing, all facing Walt the evidence board.

The room is fuller than usual, there are 4 more guys present, Slate didn’t know them, but she assumed they were working with Walt too, just in a less direct way up until this point. But, if they were about to do what she thinks Walt is going to suggest, they need all the help they can get. The odds are far out of their favor.

“We’ve been over the risks.” Walt takes his time, making eye contact with each one of them. “But I want to be really clear on something. This is no longer the same job you’ve been hired for.” he moved into the center of the circle, “We have no support on this. Shit goes south, it’s on us. Believe me, this is not worth the shitty stipend you’ve been getting paid. Some of you have kids and families.”

Walt continued, his eyes on the other guys now, “Just because you’ve been helping us run surveillance and have known this asshole your whole life, doesn’t mean you're locked in, so if any of you are feeling any hesitation or nervousness, you need to tell me now.”

The room falls dead silent.

Slate stared down at the ground as her mind worked overtime. If they were lucky, a few of them would make it out, but not all, and she didn’t know what side she’d be on. A lifetime of trying to make a difference and help, just to die on some floor like so many others. It’s not what she wanted, but it’s a realistic outcome to all this.

Or, she could go home, pack her bags and head back to the states. It felt like the easy way out, especially after everything, even if it was the safest option. Though her answer scares her, she’s not a quitter, or a runner; she's seeing this through, no matter how terrifying that thought is.

Ossie was the first to speak, he asked “We do this, we cripple Felix’s entire operation?”

From where Slate is sitting, she could see the serious look in his eyes, the determination, she knows his answer too.

“Si.” Walt answered with a nod.

“Fuck being nervous.” Ossie said with more umph to his words. “We’ll never get this chance again.” He flashed a half smile, then looked at Daryl, “come on, let’s do this shit.” Ossie kept his eyes on Daryl and extended his hand.

Never a man of many words, Daryl leaned in and affirmed his answer with a brief slap to Ossie's hand. He then set his eyes on Walt. Slate glanced at Danilo whose eyes were cast down, his left brow slightly raised. With a small head nod, Danilo confirmed his answer, yes.

In short succession, Amat and Sal also say yes, followed by Slate and the remaining guys.

Walt proceeded. “Okay, let’s fucking cripple it.”

-Flashback over-

-Now -

“All right, everybody be safe out there. I’ll be in your ear. Stay alert, stay alive.”

Slate’s original station was on the high point, back at the jeep with Daryl, until shit hit the fan. It started with the overhead lights of the airstrip coming on, followed by yelling. She didn’t know it at the time, but Danilo was shot dead then.

“Fuck!” Slate grabbed a rifle and ran for the trees.

“Slate!”

“I’m going to help!” She called back at Daryl before disappearing into the trees. Running as fast as her legs would take her, she made it down the side of the ridge.

Eventually she made it to the guys and ducked behind the red flatbed truck where Amat and Sal were, both firing from either side, she announced herself as he approached, to avoid getting shot by one of her guys.

With a quick glance to her left, she saw Walt pulling a badly wounded Ossie to the side of the yellow truck, Danilo was nowhere in sight; neither were the extra four guys. Bodies are already piling up in the airstrip.

“Ossie! “She called out,” are you okay?”

“No! We’re fucking pinned!” Walt yelled back. “We gotta move!”

Amat takes cover behind driver's seat door and aims his rifle, then fires, “And fucking go where!”

Sal stayed low to the ground on the other side of the truck, “let’s head to the mountains!”

“We’ll never make it!”

Slate could barely hear Amat over the shattering glass and bullets. What's left of the truck's windows are gone, she lowers her head and shields her face from shards of glass before taking fire again.

Two tires of the truck get shot , the truck titles with a slant. Walt kneeled to the ground and shields Ossie from the continuous gunfire.

Sal was behind the truck now, with Slate, “what the fuck else are we gonna do?”

Slate’s eyes jumped to Ossie again, she needed to get to him. She takes a few more shots and makes a run to the yellow truck, then ducks behind it. “We have to do somethin, or we’re going to fuckin die!”

Staying low to the ground, Slate made her way over to Ossie and Walt. She covered them, continuing to fire as Walt turned Ossie over.

Ossie was in bad shape, her eyes jumped from him and Walt, and back to the caret ahead. Walt kneeled on the ground, over Ossie,

Ossie gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain, "Walt, wait. The keys are in the truck, right?”

Walt continued checking his injury, “the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m fucking dying, man!”

Slate continued to fire back while trying to hear what Ossie is saying to Walt. A heavy feeling of dread washed over her.

“Hang on Ossie! You can make it dammit!” She yelled, her eyes trained ahead; she's working twice as hard to take out as many as she could.

Ossie’s voice was strained when he responded, “no I, won’t Slate.” Even with his hand in the way, they could see the blood pouring out of his gunshot wound. Its fatal, the organs, right under the hem of the fucking vest.

She looked down to find his wet eyes on her. Above him, Walt was still. Slate cursed under her breath and lowered to the ground, by Ossie and Walt.

“Don’t die on me asshole, we have rock concerts to see.”

“Rock out for me,” he forced a grin then looked at Walt, “Please, Walt. Let me fuckin' do this!” he grunted.

The cartel pressed forward, Slate rose back to her feet and returned fire. Walt joined in, then returned to Ossie.

“I can help you get out. Get me in the truck.”

Amat, Sal, and Slate continued to fire. She catches sight of Walt helping Ossie into the truck.

Part of her wanted to run to them, to convince Ossie not to do whatever he’s going to do; but they were dangerously outnumbered, and the cartel continued to get closer and closer.

“Walt, what the fuck are you doing!” Amat called out.

Once Ossie was in the truck, Walt stood on the driver's side door, “cover me!”

Walt made his way to the passenger side where Slate was. Before she could ask a question or, think a thought, Ossie was already moving, driving the truck head on into the cartel as they littered it with bullets. In seconds, he ran over some of the cartel and ran the truck into the gas tank. A huge red-orange fire erupted with black smoke.

With feet hitting the ground hard, Slate, Walt, Amat and Sal ran for the woods, returning fire over their shoulders as they sped away. They had no idea how many the explosion killed, but it did what Ossie said it would, it gave them cover to run.

Walt and Sal reached the tree line first. Amat and Slate stop to take out a few more guys. Slate is first back on her feet, Amat just steps behind her until she heard a body drop. Taking a fearful glance back, she saw Amat was down and continued to zig zag as she ran.

Finally reaching the trees, Slate looked around for Walt and Sal as her heart banged in her chest. Spotting them to her left, she limped over, careful to stay in the shadows.

Walk grabbed her arm and pulled her deeper into the shadows, his eyes moving from her to Sal.

“This is on me.” He pushed Sal forward, “get the fuck back the safe out, both of you, Go!”

Sal looked ahead where Amat was, hesitated then turned to run.

“Get the fuck out of there Slate!”

“I’m not leaving you out here alone!” She walked past him and crouched down, “we’re both making it out of this!”

“Fuck!” Walt crouched down too, the both of them peering through the trees. He would drag her back if he could, make her leave; but there’s no time for it right now, and there’s no way he's going to leave one of his alone out here.

A car pulled up, even in the dark of the night, the sight of it makes Slate’s heart drop. She knows that fucking car; it’s a black Cadillac. Her grip tightened on her pistol; her throat was closing up.

An ill feeling washed over her as Amat laid on his back ahead, a guy on either side of him, rifles trained on his body. Each time their fallen friend groaned, the sicker she felt. Slate shut her eyes quickly then opened them, she hoped the person getting out of that car is a stranger, maybe he just has the same car as -

“You guys got one?”

It’s his voice. His fucking voice.

“Fuckers still alive.”

Calderoni came into full view, the car lights on him like a spotlight, his right hand raised; gun in hand and ready to shoot. Calderoni then shoots both the cartel guys, each one a kill shot to the head.

He kneeled down beside Amat, Slate and Walt were too far away to hear what Amat was trying to say as he spit up blood. Slate narrowed her eyes and saw Amat motion back to them with his head, followed by Calderoni looking that way.

It seemed he was helping Amat up when four guys came running in the near distance. Calderoni dropped Amat, looked back at the guys, then fired once, killing Amat. Walt shut his eyes and lowered his head.

Slate gripped the tree tighter and closed her eyes, tears fell down her cheeks. Her eyes were still closed when Calderoni addressed the men.

“One went that way, and the other went that way.” She opened her eyes to see him pointing in the opposite direction, then another wrong one. “Run, you can still catch them.” The smaller group quickly broke off, leaving Calderoni alone again.

“Stay behind me.” Walt orders as he aims his pistol at Calderoni.

“You out there Walt?” Calderoni takes a step closer, also ready to fire. Then another, the two men inched forward. “There’s nowhere to go.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Walt asked, his eyes glued on him.

“What you made me.” He paused. “If you hadn’t cut me off, I could have warned you this would happen. They found the transponders two days ago. You walked into a trap. But you wanted to go your own way.” Another pause. "He deserved to walk away Walt, they all did. But they were never going to. You made sure of it.”

Slate moved over slightly; a sliver of her face came into Calderoni's view.

Calderoni raised his chin, his brows tensed as he looked at her. He released a heavy sigh, then shifted his eyes back to Walt.

“You should have been the one to die tonight, Walt. But I’m going to let you live.” His eyes moved back to Slate. “Get the fuck out of here and don’t stop walking until you hear them speak English.”

Slate took a step back and gently placed a hand on Walt's arm. They had to get the fuck out here, there was no winning. Even if they could get a shot at Calderoni, dozens of men would descend upon them, and they had no chance of surviving that.

Walt slowly stepped back, his face eventually disappearing from Calderoni’s view.

Late that night at the warehouse

Slate trudged up the dark staircase behind Walt. With the rush of adrenaline gone, the pain in her leg came back full force. Her skin is coated in dirt, sweat, blood; hers and others.

“Who else made it out?”

Daryl appeared first; Walt walked right past him. Slate stopped in place and made eye contact but couldn’t find the words to speak. Her eyes then darted to Sal, who stepped into the room next.

Daryl’s eyes landed on Slate again, then Walt.

“Walt! Who else made it out?”

Walt pulled out a chair at the desk and sunk down into it with a silent breath. He looked broken, completely broken and more fragile than she’s ever seen him before, even counting the times she was around him back home.

Slate sniffled and shook her head, no, to Daryl.

Walt put the gun down, and when he finally spoke his voice was shaky and low, “ eveyones gone.”

Daryl paced, hands on his hips, shaking his head in disbelief. Sal sat on a nearby bench, slouched over and lowered his head, his hands clasped together.

Slate leaned against the nearby wall and looked up at the ceiling, swallowing the lump in her throat and trying to will the tears in her eyes to stop.

-Five days later-

Slate tapped the rim of the glass and watched as the bartender refilled the drink.

“Thanks.”

She quickly knocked it back and lowered the glass to the counter. They were out of Mexico in less than a day. Since being back, it’s been meetings and other bullshit, but to a lesser extent than whatever Walt had to do, since this was his operation. After her last meeting, Slate put in her request for extended leave; she turned down her reassignment papers.

It felt wrong, being back. Maybe she was supposed to die out there. She hasn’t slept much because all she sees is dead friends, especially Amat and Ossie. Then there’s another ghost haunting her waking and sleeping hours. The man she shared a bed with and later watched as he shot her friend and teammate dead. A man she snuck off to see two more times before the trip to Belize and Juarez, a man she had a weird comfort with she could never describe or explain away. A man she now hated with every bone in her body.

She felt betrayed by him. Even if he had a point, even if playing both sides was the only way to get shit done there. Even with that understanding, she still felt angry, and hurt.

Though they all knew death was a possibility when they didn’t walk about that room, none of them deserved that. Not even the ones who had to do sketchy shit in the past. They did not deserve to die; not Ossie, not Amat, not Danilo. From the brief conversation she had with Walt, Ossie and Amat were denied what he promised them, and written off as criminals.

Three weeks later

Slate got out of the elevator and turned left to her new apartment. She wasn’t sure how much it would help, a new city and a new place, but she was desperate at this point to shake the events of Mexico.

Two doors away from her own, she stopped cold in her tracks. A familiar face stared back at her, dark brown eyes, hair combed back, his arms crossed.

The moment their eyes met, he uncrossed his arms and stepped forward, using a calming tone to speak, “you’re a hard woman to find.”

Slates heart rate sped up with each step toward Calderoni. “Get the fuck out of here!”

He called her by her real name and raised a hand, in an attempt to calm her down. “Take it easy.”

“Take it easy! Take it easy!” She rushed toward him and shoved him hard in the chest, he barely budged, and remained rooted on the ground.

Slate shoved him again, this time tears coming to her eyes. He grabbed her shoulders and lowered his eyes to hers.

“Calm down. Can we talk? Inside?”

She wants to shoot him, to take every bad feeling in her body and mind out on him. Down the hall, a door opened, someone stepped out.

Slate cursed under her breath and tore herself away from his strong grip. After fumbling with her keys, she got the door open, went inside, then slammed it in his face.

Distraught, she headed to the Livingroom and sat on the couch, covering her face with her hands. When the door opened, she jumped to her feet and retrieved the gun she kept hidden behind a desk.

Calderoni didn’t budge at the sight; or show any signs of worry.

“I can’t stay long. Put the gun away.”

“No! You set us up!”

Calderoni stood directly in front of her and pried the gun from her hands. He clicked the safety back on and put it aside.

“Listen to me, “he lowered voice, “I did not set you up.”

Slate stared at him; he could see her mind going a mile a minute. She was also trying to decide if she believed him or not.

“It’s not as simple as you, Walt, and those agents who try to help think it is. Everyone, even the good guys, need to be bad and make some grey calls. It’s the only way. You’re smart, you know that Slate.”

She pulled her eyes from his and sat on the couch again.

“Those guys didn’t deserve that, I meant what I said.”

She shook her head and pressed her palms into her knees. “Why didn’t you warn us? Me?” She raised her eyes to his.

“I would have, you heard what I said out there. I was telling the truth.”

Slate rounded her shoulders, getting smaller on the couch. She shrugged weakly and stared at the floor.

“Hey,” Calderoni took a seat next to her on the couch, “I hoped you weren’t there. That you were smart enough to say no and go home.”

She turned her head to shoot him a dark look, “and abandoned the team? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Calderoni started to speak, then stopped himself. It was properly for the better, Slate was nearly shaking with anger now.

“We’ll talk about this, if not now, later, when you’re ready.”

She clenched her jaw, speaking through gritted teeth, “I never want to see you again.”

Calderoni lowered his gaze. He reached out and carefully placed a hand on her thigh. Her eyes dropped down to his hand, but she didn’t move it.

“Tell me to fuck off in the morning, but for now, “he raised his eyes to hers, “let me be here for you, even if it’s in silence.” he forces a small smile. “Keep the gun close if you want.”

Slate scoffed and stared at the table before them. Calderoni stood, retrieved the gun, and put it in her hands before sitting back down.

He watched as she looked it over, turning it, then placed it on the table.

Shooting him could feel cathartic, or it could make her feel worse.

Slate exhaled and closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper, “I don’t want to look at a fucking gun again for a while. I’m so fucking tired - I’m tired - “she let her head hang low.

A moment later she felt his hand on her back, caressing her in a slow circular motion. At first, she stilled to his touch, then, she relaxed into it. With his right hand, he slid two fingers under her chin, angling her face to his. She opened her eyes.

Slate wanted to scream, to yell, to kick him, to use a time machine and take saying yes to this job back; but she couldn't. She couldn’t do anything but sit here right now, as her body felt everything at once, anger, rage, disappointment, grief, loneliness.

Maybe she would yell at him tomorrow, tell him all the things she wanted to say, but for now, she doesn’t have the energy. Calderoni wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Slate leaned against him with a sigh and let her eyes fall closed.

More Narcos

Masterlist

#Commander Guillermo Calderoni #not the real guy #the show!#narcos Mexico #Calderoni narcos Mexico #Guillermo Calderoni #my longest oneshot ever #Ossie Mejia #Amat narcos #Daryl narcos #Danilo Narcos #sal orozco

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years

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There’s a thread on r/panelshow where people have started posting good Mock the Week clips in honour of this week being its last, I recommend checking it out if anyone wants a laugh. It’s already had me falling down some rabbit holes of fun YouTube clips.

It freaked me out a bit for a second when I first saw it, because the Sara Pascoe and John Robins video that they linked in that post is one I edited from the original episode, I only made it to post on here but I wanted to put it in a reblog and you can’t upload videos directly to Tumblr that way, so I put it on YouTube and linked it. Seeing someone link to it in r/panelshow did give me a moment of, “Oh shit the Reddit people can see that I exist”. It’s an amusing video, though, if you like second-hand embarrassment and car crashes of an idea (said idea being going on a panel show with your romantic partner when your relationship has very nearly fallen apart completely) and feeling sorry for Rob Beckett as he cringed his way through sitting next to them.

I think my favourite clip I’ve revisited in these rabbit holes is the cities on legs one. People talk about Frankie Boyle’s comedy that’s based on extreme offensiveness, they forget that just as integral to its foundation is the absolutely pitch dark view of the future. So much of his material is based on being convinced that the world is going to end at any moment. When I watched New World Order last year, I posted about how in their first season that happened after COVID hit, Frankie looked more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. I feel like he was more comfortable existing in the world once the giant disaster he constantly expected had actually happened, and the world around him finally matched the one he saw all the time. I mean, obviously he exaggerates that perspective for comic effect, but I’m pretty sure it’s at least a bit genuine. He has actually had his career limited by the fact that he can never play in America because he refuses to go in an airplane, because his fear of technology is not 100% a joke.

The most intense Frankie Boyle gets is not actually finding the most creative uses for the word “cunt”, it’s: “Anyone who pays close attention to how the world’s going will know that environmentally, you should re-use your plastic bags to suffocate your children.”

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anerol152 · 2 years

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Hello! This is anon #2, back with another essay, LOL. I figured I’d try to submit a post instead because tumblr asks have a character limit and it’s such a pain trying to avoid blowing up your notifications. xD

only got a few friends to talk about it that I won’t spoil or bore after half an hour and is nice to have a way to discuss it.

Same here! I don’t know anyone else who’s just as invested so I’ve been doing my best to pretend like I’m having a normal amount of thoughts about this which, HA. HAHAHA. I really wish there was a Discord server, but I get the feeling it’d just get lumped in with all the other RE things and my brain is just like NO, ETHAN AND ROSE. xD

Also you two are really good at making Rose’s childhood even more tragic and I both thank you for that and am in a ;_; mood of my own

Misery loves company. I need someone to suffer with me because I’ve just been completely plagued with thoughts of what kind of life Rose has had and how heartbroken Ethan would be to learn about it.

Though, if I have any gripe with SoR it’s that I wish they spent a little more time with ‘Michael’ and Rose before the big reveal. Just have some scenes where they’re just trading stories about who they are! Give Rose a chance to piece together who Michael really is and Ethan to learn who his daughter is now. (On the other hand, I do love how Rose has known Ethan for all of a few hours and she’s still ready to to completely put down a smackdown when something happens to him. Ethan being like that for Rose is a given, but it was amazing to see Rose turn around and do the same. She threw away a normal life to protect him and didn’t even regret it! MY HEART.)

[…] Which is why I’m afraid she kept her mindset of 'scientist first, mother/wife second’ after Rose was born. Plus the trauma. Even if she was stone cold cruel like some fans believe (think they might be mixing her up with Miranda tho -_-“) she would have had some trauma from it still.

Yeah, sadly, I’m feeling this as well. RE8 never made her seem like a bad parent, but they definitely planted the seed for being a secretive, distant one. Especially considering Mia is still keeping secrets and who knows if she ever told Ethan about her involvement with The Connection.

SoR just kept hitting me over the head with that too. It’s possible it’s just because SoR was about Ethan-Rose, but I kept noticing that Mia was completely absent from all of the memories he shows Rose. It makes me think that Ethan was the one usually the one doing the childcare and the memories were of Ethan maybe telling Mia about their day.

On top of that, the Mia mannequin was in an area where Eveline was preying on Rose’s fears so wtf happened to cause Rose to have anxiety about her mother catching her? W H A T.

Also Rose was… way too trusting of what 'K’ wanted her to do. Going about it in secret like that? Was just odd from the start.

Oh yeah, I think it was a combo of Miranda preying on Rose’s desperation and also using someone Rose would trust completely to lure her in. I also side eye Chris here because it wasn’t him either so jfc, everyone Rose was left with failed her.

Yes Ethan justice!

He really is just a guy. A random dude. A dad. But he is a good dad. Man him cradling baby Rose at the end of RE8 plus saving her in the DLC made me cry so much (first part more but man would it have been very emotionally effective if both came out at the same time)

Oh my fucking god, yes. I was exposed to things a bit backwards because I saw SoR before I watched the ending of RE8. Even knowing what would happen, it completely broke me. Ethan’s voice throughout the entire thing as he struggled to keep going just a little longer and the "Goodbye, Rosemary” just akgjhajf. ;__;

They did such a fantastic job with him - Ethan is my absolute favorite now Rose in second and it absolutely cracks me up that all it took to wreck everyone’s shit was one very upset father-daughter duo (and how it kept going even beyond the grave.) Miranda really messed with the wrong people. I seriously wish RE7 could have given him the same depth and didn’t just have him as a placeholder for the player.

Knowing what I know about his personality now, I can fill in the gaps on how he would have reacted to things like, idk, killing his wife repeatedly, but his character really could have used some love back then. :( I don’t think people would have thought he was boring if he had been given the same treatment.

But yeah, the DLC really does hit you in the feels with the what ifs of Ethan taking care of Rose. Saw a… comic? Animatic? Not sure which; of Ethan taking care of Rose through her life, being there for her. Man. Really gets you feeling ;_;

;_; It does. Both of them deserve to have a family with unconditional love and support. Though, I absolutely adore how self-confident Rose is by the end of the DLC knowing that her dad is proud of her no matter what.

There’s a little easter egg at the very end of RE8/SoR with Ethan’s character model and I’m really hoping it’s a hint he’ll be back (maybe as just a side character to cheer on his daughter or give her ammunition). Like, ffs, Capcom. They’ve both been through enough, let Ethan stay with his daughter! Though… if this happens, it will still make me sad knowing he missed 16 years of her life. You know that’s going to hurt for him.

#RE 8 #re 8 village #ethan winters #rosemary winters #tumblr submission #never posted one of those before #will reply after #I guess??#Loved this tho

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gryith · 2 years

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My Favorite Albums This Year

I’m not a big music person, but I still have opinions on music, so here they are for this year. I’ve decided to go with full albums because if I was doing favorite songs of the year I’d hit Tumblr’s character limit, so here we go, top ten albums (if it was 11 there’d be Laurel Hell in here too fyi but what can you do):

LEVEL SELECT - PIZZA HOTLINE

A chill little EP with vibes of the ps1/dreamcast and early ps2 era, and I think every single person born between 1997-2003 has a lot of nostalgia for that vibe.

World Wide Pop - SUPERORGANISM

Whilst not as good as their debut album, this is still a great entry, and the halved size of the band brings a little more musical cohesion at the expense of some of their unique sound. This was, however, the first gig I went to post-covid (I think), so it was a big deal for me and really helped me like the album.

Nisemono - Ginger Root

It’s a short EP but every track is like something playing on the radio in a good memory.

DISCO4::PART II

HEALTH have gone full dark synthwave in the last few years and I couldn’t be happier, and whilst I wasn’t in love with the first album, this one really hits right, thanks in part to the incredible and talented musical guests.

I Love you Jennifer B - Jockstrap

After being introduced to, and loving, Wicked City earlier in the year I was looking forward to this, and whilst I wasn’t disappointed, I do wish it was as intense as Wicked City, though this is definitely a better album on a technical level.

THEIR MONEY IS YOUR MONEY - 1 800 PAIN

I like when things are good, this is good, don’t fight back on this.

Ants From up There - Black Country, New Road

With the drawn out, progressive structure of bands like The Mountain Goats, the repetative, rhythmic sounds of more experimental artists like Colin Stetson, and the vocals and subject matter of a contemporary indie band like MGMT (not a coincidence that all three of those have made three of my favorite albums), this is a fantastic journey that’s storyful and emotive, and I’ve listened to it countless times since it was introduced to me.

Digital Spool - Jazz Emu

Despite the fact they’re just silly comedy albums, I enjoy Jazz Emu’s new album when it releases every year, and it’s insane how much improvement he’s had musically in just the last three years. Even moreso than the last album; ‘Humilis’, this album has a lot of self-analysis. Many of the songs on the album ask ‘it’s not right that people don’t take my music seriously on a technical level just because the lyrics are silly’, and that’s made clear from the prologue. It becomes more clear during ‘tonally inconsistent’, which introduces that actually you can have comedy tracks and serious tracks on the same album. we then end with Hummingbird, a fully serious ballad about a pastoral type of innocence that’s simple and understated yet subtly beautiful, then the titular song which states the thesis; ‘do you really hear my music? or do you just hear setups and punchlines?’ it’s his best work yet musically, with some great comedy tracks and leaves him in a place where he can go anywhere he wants on the next album.

Mr Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar

When I first heard this album, I remember thinking ‘nah I’m not as into this one’, but then a few weeks later I was overcome with the urge to play it again, and I liked it a lot more, then a few more weeks later the same thing. As always this is an introspective and simultaneously macrospective analysis of people and person that knows when to be aggressive and when to be soft. Absolutely one of the best of the year.

LABJAMS - Michael Whyckoff

Normally I don’t like to include soundtracks in these lists, despite them constitutuing a good 30-50% of what I listen to, and it has been an extraordinary year for soundtracks; from Bodies Bodies Bodies, Nope, Turning Red and Everything Everywhere all at Once to Immortality, the bad guys and Paradise Killer, but BONELAB’s official soundtrack was so good that it transcends just being a score. Featuring several fully vocalised tracks on top of atmospheric tracks and regular score tracks, this album is at the same time cohesive yet jumps around so many styles and tones and feels, it’s a genuinely impressive feat of music and a genuinely great album (scoring a genuinely great game) and I highly recommend it!

#music #ranking #music ranking #album review #I really did want to include Laurel Hell but it just didn't fit #Also I always stop myself putting in soundtracks because then that'd be the whole list but I had to include one #Spotify

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the-internal-journal-of-peachii · 2 years

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Welcome welcome.

Let’s get this outta the way. My life currently focuses on these topics: Weight (Mostly healthy thoughts, I have recovered from an ED and sometimes do still struggle. There will be mentions of calories/goals.), trying new workouts, medical trauma/chronic illnesses, and fertility issues. If, by any point, you are upset by my posts, please take a break and walk away. To you, I am simply a stranger on a website. A post on the internet that you won’t remember too much in 20 years. To me? This is my day in day out. Thank you for joining if you wish, but under no obligations do you have to stay. I appreciate you either way.

I suppose this is my “who am I?” post, for anybody who might be interested in following along.

I’m 22, Female (Cis), Bisexual in a long term relationship. I’ve been on tumblr since I was 13-14, but I never was a super duper active user. I’m ND, but undiagnosed with whatever it may be exactly.

My special interests include: Disney, Farming simulators (stardew, Dreamlight Valley, etc,), Books (Currently Reading Neon Gods by Katee Roberts.), board games to name a few.

Hobbies: Occasional digital art spurts, Occasional Twitch streaming, building Lego sets, collecting board games, collecting dnd dice, etc.

Here’s where we get into the heavy stuff. Weight, depression, and other stuff will be mentioned.

Medically, what’s going on?

First thing to mention? I was the second person in the United States to undergo a procedure in my right knee using a bio mechanical device to fix my issues. (constant dislocation of right knee, due to my bones growing improperly. It was originally triggered when I smashed my knee into a rock as a middle schooler, and it never recovered ) It was first cleared in Europe. I got the surgery when I was 18, and literally had to relearn how to walk. I was so determined to walk before my prom. Short story? I did. Not well, but I did. My left knee does require the same surgery, however I find the issues I occasionally have with my left knee not worth the time & money that the surgery would need. It does limit my activities.

I was diagnosed with ADPKD (Auto Dominant Polycystic Kidney Disease) when I was a week away from being 20. Which essentially means that my kidneys are growing cysts non stop, and this is increasing the size of my kidneys. It causes me pain from time to time. The worst time it flared, all I could do was lay on my parent’s bedroom floor and cry. There’s no cure for it, nothing I can really do at this stage except help prevent it from getting worse. This means no salt, no dark brown sodas, and a bunch of other things that make food taste good. Do I follow this diet to a T? No. Should I? Absolutely. However, being 19 going into 20, and then 2 days later after my birthday, the whole world shut down for the Pandemic? I was over it. Turning 20 and then being told that instead of 80 years, I now only had 40, was devastating. All I remember was being angry, and giving up everything. Giving up kids, giving up every life plan I ever made for myself.

So here I am, 2 years after the fact, in the worst shape I’ve ever been. The “fuck it I’m gonna die” attitude didn’t exactly motivate me to care for myself. I realized that I hit rock bottom, and now is the time to take back control. This is not a success story yet. This is just the turning point. So let’s get into specifics.

Currently, as of post, I’m 271 lbs. 5”7’. My BMI is 40-41 I believe. Because of this, I have chronic joint pain. I find myself tired, unmotivated, and just overall more depressed. Self consciousness comes with it too, but I wouldn’t be sitting here journaling if it didn’t.

Why use Tumblr?

Maybe someone out there can relate. Maybe someone out there can read my plights and relate a little bit and feel a little less alone. I know I feel alone in it all. Or maybe, someone can read all of this, and use me as a “oh, we’ll I don’t have it as bad,” and find comfort in that as well. Any take you have on it is fine with me. However, all of this genuinely is to satisfy my need for accountability and to feel like it makes an impact. If I put it out there, I want to be raw and I want to have a reason to convince myself to do better.

What to expect from this blog:

-Workouts I’m doing to get my body moving

-Food journaling

-Discussion of emotions, of pain, reflections.

I want to be as raw as possible; as open as possible. My journey is not a story of self love just yet. Since I’m still discovering that. However, I’m working on it. That’s what matters.

#TIJOP #About Me #weight loss #tw weight #chronic illness #chronic pain #obesity #journaling #food diary #adpkd #tw calories #female #biseuxal #neurodivergent

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hyunjilicious · 3 years

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a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer.

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next.

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation.

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information.

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind.

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes.

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you.

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display.

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet.

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs.

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment.

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter.

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes.

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted.

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear.

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties.

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease.

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?"

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?"

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-"

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Did he spank you good?"

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me"

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before.

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear.

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear.

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise.

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it.

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going.

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone.

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now.

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely.

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible.

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing.

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times.

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fics #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #walter marshall x reader #ahh #a helping hand

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willwriteforhugs · 3 years

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you saved me- park seonghwa

seonghwa x reader - one shot !

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, meet-cute

synopsis: a busy and cold winter day leads you to a (very close) brush with death. but a stranger seems to be in just the right place at just the right time...

warnings: mentions of loneliness, near car accident (nothing too serious)

a/n:

me as i open tumblr with the intent of actually posting for once: god i need to go post something so i feel less bad about being alive

so, anyways. first seonghwa fic- which is really just a long drabble. i always knew i wanted a seonghwa meet-cute, and this idea just seemed to suit him... please remember that this is for entertainment purposes only, though, so be respectful! (also, ^^^THIS genre of seonghwa pic, with the grainy filter and the tan...bruh...)

anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always- thank you for reading :)

- - -

your breath comes out in short, angry puffs, which you can see reflected in the cold afternoon air. the temperature in seoul is absolutely freezing, and you are not dressed for it. when you had left for work this morning, (in your standard sweater + jeans combo) you clearly were not anticipating that the sky would dump snow all day long. you long desperately for your warm winter coat.

so now, here you are: jogging, but only as quickly as you feel is safe in this weather. your condo is only a few blocks down- hence why you had walked in the first place, and why you hadn’t brought cash to pay for a bus. but god, the cold is just piercing.

the streets are practically empty, because of the terrible weather. so, at the very least, you are spared the embarrassment of having to waddle awkwardly on the ice in front of others.

but, to add to the stress- your day had seriously not gone as planned.

when you first took it, you thought that the simple receptionist job would be easy- and doubly so with the convenient location. but these past few weeks were proving you wrong, today especially. while being distracted by coworkers, you accidentally put an important client on a somewhat permanent hold, and ruined a potential sale. as if that wasn’t enough, the next call you routed to a completely different office by mistake, earning you a strict talking to by the supervisor.

so, to put it plainly: you were tired, annoyed, and cold. so. freaking. cold.

heaving a sigh, you continue your jog/waddle towards your street corner, which is two intersections away. faintly, you can hear a city bus approaching, the one that always stops near your work building. from where you are standing, the bus will be driving perpendicular to you, and you cock your head in thought. you don’t need the shuttle itself, since you live so close, but you wonder how close the bus is now...

feeling a sudden burst of energy, you speed up a bit, challenging yourself to beat the bus to the empty corner, even though you know it won’t stop there. this is something you do often- set up little games for yourself. it’s mostly an attempt to stay busy, but- though you’d never admit it, it helps with the loneliness too. when you race against the clock (say, to make a speedrun to the copy room at work) it almost feels like you are competing against an old friend.

you obviously know that you can’t beat the bus, but the thought itself is entertaining, so you throw caution to the wind. your feet slap the pavement as you run, and you hear yourself laugh a little. the cold air rushing by your cheeks helps distract you from your own thoughts.

you sprint through an empty intersection, and as you approach the final corner- having obviously lost the race to the bus- you begin to slow down a bit. but as you near the end of the sidewalk, (which is parallel to the moving bus, whose hulking body is getting ready to pass you) you feel your previous momentum get the better of you.

you stumble off of the curb- and right into a vicious patch of ice on the waiting asphalt.

it happens in slow motion: your feet slide harshly backwards, and you scramble for any traction- but to no avail. you hear yourself cry out as you fall forward, right into the path of the oncoming shuttle.

you slam your eyes shut.

but instead of hitting the ground, or the bus, a sudden weight catches you around your middle and lurches backwards. you scream again, certain you’ve already died.

you hear the sound of the bus honking as it speeds by- the only thing traveling faster than it is your frantic pulse.

you hit the ground hard, with all of your weight on your left shoulder and hip. even so, you start with the relief of knowing the bus didn’t even graze you.

only after a moment do you realize why it hadn’t.

someone had caught you.

grabbed you from behind, and used their whole body weight to get the two of you to safety.

you lurch forward, startled. as you turn around, you see him lying on the ground, in the same position you were in just seconds before- and you meet the eyes of the person who’d just saved you.

it’s a man- a young one. and good god, he’s beautiful, too. the boy on the ground before you is seriously the epitome of korean beauty- large, dark eyes, an open face, and full lips. as soon as he opens his mouth, you wonder at how his teeth could possibly be so perfect.

it takes you a moment of staring before you realize he’s speaking to you.

“um.” your voice breaks. “what?”

the boy scrambles onto his knees, shuffling towards you. “i asked if you’re alright- are you hurt?” his voice is concerned, and his hands flutter about your face- too wary to touch you, but clearly wanting to.

his eyes are more genuine than you can even take in, and you hesitate at the whole scene- what the hell is happening? did you hit your head?

you stutter, trying to make sense of the situation. the boy leans back on his heels as you finally catch your breath.

your words are breathy, but deliberate. “you- you saved me.”

the boy tilts his head slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards. “yes, i suppose i did.” a beat passes before he continues. his eyes, though now bordering on playful, still look worried. “you probably shouldn’t be running in this sort of weather.”

you heave a sigh that comes out in a laugh. “yeah, i realize that now.”

your counterpart picks himself up off the ground, brushing off his front. he then extends a hand towards you. you stare at it for a moment, confused. for a moment, he looks down at you intently, waiting. your puzzlement passes, and you blush as you cautiously place your palm in his, allowing him to help you up.

“i’m seonghwa, by the way. park seonghwa.” the man- no, seonghwa looks down at you, letting his sentence hang.

you clear your throat, feeling a harsh wave of embarrassment at the situation. “um- i’m y/n.”

seonghwa nods at you, taking a step back. his brow is furrowed. “well, y/n-ssi- you didn’t actually tell me if you were hurt or not. do you feel dizzy? nauseous?”

you throw your hands up in protest, not wanting to cause any more distress than you already had. “no, uh- i’m fine, really. maybe a little bruised, but i’m okay. i think it would be a bigger problem if you were hurt...”

you are not exaggerating- you can only imagine the guilt you would feel if he’d been injured.

seonghwa represses a smile. “i’m alright too. you did startle me, though. thought i was about to witness something pretty terrible...”

at this, you give a surprised chuckle. “yeah, i’m so sorry...you really came out of nowhere, huh? i seriously didn’t even know you were there until i was on the ground!”

this time, it’s his turn to laugh. “yeah, those bus stops provide great cover.”

the two of you settle into a stiff silence, and you can practically hear your heart pounding- both with leftover adrenaline, as well as the sudden nerves that seonghwa was giving you.

“here,” he says, breaking the quiet. “take this.” he shrugs off his long winter coat, and before you can argue, he’s reached over and settled it on your shoulders. the relief is near instantaneous, but you find yourself a bit too tongue-tied to thank him.

you sigh again, determined to get the words out. “oh, god, i really am so sorry about that, um-” you stutter. “i really should thank you, for the coat. but also-” you take a deep breath. “thank you, park seonghwa, for saving my life.”

at this, the man actually blushes. he reaches a hand to rub the back of his neck. “no, really, it was just a gut reaction...”

you shake your head, insistent. “it doesn’t matter. i could have died, but you prevented that. now-” you can feel yourself gaining confidence. “what can i do to repay you?”

seonghwa’s face, which had previously harbored a look of child-like innocence, suddenly turns mischievous.

you tilt your head, indicating an answer.

his smug smile is full now, chin tilted upwards. “i actually do have a request.”

“okay, shoot.”

“you’ll do anything i ask?”

you frown, narrowing your eyes in an almost flirtatious way. “i suppose i have a few limits...”

to your surprise, seonghwa interrupts you, eyes twinkling. “you’ll repay me- by allowing me to take you out on a date, y/n.”

your mind goes fully blank for a moment.

...huh?

you blink in shock, not being able to suppress your initial reaction. “wait, come again?”

“will you go on a date with me?”

you stare at him- this terrifyingly beautiful man was asking you on a date? after you’d fully humiliated yourself in front of him? what on earth?

suddenly, before you can even finish the thought, you find yourself nodding. “i suppose i can arrange that.”

seonghwa’s smile is completely smug at this point. “does tonight work?”

you bite your lip, heart pounding despite the chilly weather. your voice comes out in a whisper: “yes, i suppose tonight works.”

seonghwa tries to bury his smile and looks at the ground. “that’s great.” he pauses, allowing his gaze to flit back to you. “do you- i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you want me to walk you home?”

you smile, but shake your head. “it’s alright, i live close. here- i’ll give you my number, though.”

you dig through your work satchel for a piece of paper and scribble your phone number on it. when you extend it, he accepts the slip, still trying to suppress his grin.

a beat passes, and the two of you look at each other intently.

and with that, seonghwa reaches down and gently takes your hand, glancing at your face to make sure the action is alright with you. when you don’t pull away, he lifts it up and presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, holding your gaze the entire time. his lips are cold, an unlikely and romantic nod to the temperature.

you feel your neck and cheeks go red, but you smile in an attempt to seem casual. “thanks again, seonghwa. for helping me.”

“of course.” the man’s eyes are twinkling again. “as grim as it sounds, i’m sort of glad it happened. if it hadn’t, i probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”

you smirk in what you hope is a flirtatious manner.

“well,” he continues. “don’t let me keep you. after all, you’ve got a date to get ready for.”

seonghwa begins to walk away, then turns back. “although,” he calls over his shoulder. “i’m pretty sure the guy you’re meeting with won’t care what you’re wearing. you could probably show up in your pajamas and he’d still think you were gorgeous. just for the record.”

before you could manage an answer, he turns on his heel and strides away- but even from here, you can tell he still has a goofy grin plastered on his face.

heart pounding, you turn and make your way towards your apartment building.

despite yourself, you also can’t seem to keep the grin off of your face.

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gogglor · 3 years

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Cap-Ironman RecWeek: What-If Wednesday

Time for another installment of @cap-ironman rec week! Today’s theme: AU’s.

I know AU’s in different settings are half the reason most people read fanfics, but they’re not really my thing on the whole. AU’s where different choices are made, or different events transpire? Absolutely. Coffee shops? Not my cup of... you know.

So, here’s my AU recommendations for mostly “turn left” scenarios. This time with an under-the-cut break so I don’t take over everyone’s timelines (sorry about that last post). Also with some summaries truncated for length.

Alone Like This

Author: GotTheSilver

Word Count: 7,452

Summary: Steve, post waking up, runs away from SHIELD, and Tony's the one who tracks him down.

Why You Should Read It:

First off, GotTheSilver’s been consistently and regularly putting out solid Stony since 2012 and not only are they not stopping, they’re only getting better. This writer doesn’t get nearly the fanfare I’d expect in Stony circles for someone who puts out this much good stuff, and here’s hoping this post can be a part of changing that.

While I am always a sucker for enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, there’s something to be said for stories where Steve and Tony hit it off right away. And watching these two very different people look at each other and see the same sense of being lost, then finding each other again is... excuse me, there’s something in my eye, ignore me.

Second Chance Lives

Author: raeldaza

Word Count: 43,872

Summary: Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?

Why You Should Read It:

This writer doesn’t write a lot for the MCU but when they do, dang.

“Tony is the one helping Steve acclimate to the new century before Avengers 2012″ is a whole genre of Stony fanfics that scratch an itch I didn’t even know I had before I started reading fanfiction, and this is one of the best ones out there. It’s got it all - Steve poorly coping with his PTSD, Tony poorly coping with his immanent mortality, some breathtakingly poor communication between the two most emotionally stunted men in the MCU, and a cat named Roomba. What’s not to love?

Should You Choose to Accept It

Author: elwenyere (look, you’re gonna be seeing a lot of them this week, sorry-not-sorry)

Word Count: 27,106

Summary: After a terrorist attack and a field operation gone wrong, the Avengers realize that Nick Fury's secrets are just the start of a much bigger mystery. Steve and Tony try to keep some things from each other as well, but that can't possibly affect the mission — right? Mission Fic + Getting Together (or Mission: Getting Together) that mashes up elements from Iron Man 3, CA: Winter Soldier, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season one, and Mission Impossible 3.

Why You Should Read It:

You can see my post yesterday for singing El’s praises, but what I really liked about this fic was how how damn creative it is. The CAWS/IM3/AOS mashup is everything I wished the actual MCU gave us and more, with well-developed characters and an exciting story to put them in. And because it’s El, you know the banter’s gonna be on point, the way the characters care for each other is gonna be emotionally constipated but touching, and the pacing’s gonna be exciting enough to draw you in and keep you there. Also, this fic doesn’t have nearly enough kudos so please go read it and fix that or I’m gonna have to try to hack AO3 and that’ll just be embarrassing for all parties involved.

What Happens In Vegas

Author: sabremc

Word Count: 161,951

Summary: “What the hell, Tony?” Rhodey demanded brusquely. Tony winced and drew the phone away from his ear. “You’ve got cops and Feds all over the hotel. I’m watching you perp walk out of the police station on repeat on CNN. They’re saying you tried to bribe Stern? Fox News has you selling weapons on the black market, and God that picture they’re using is the one from Bali in ’09. You look like shit. They wheeled Stern out and put him in an ambulance, by the way. Got some paparazzi swearing you decked the guy. Now they’ve got ‘copters following it like he’s OJ.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Sourpatch, I’ve got it covered. Uh, though, I should probably tell you that, purely in the interests of national security and the greater good, I kind of had to fake marry that stripper-gram you sent. Thanks for that, by the way,” Tony added quickly.

Why You Should Read It:

If you’re deep enough into Stony to see posts like this on Tumblr, you probably know sabre’s what we in the business call a “big name author.” They’re prolific, they’re popular, and most importantly, they write words good (technical term). Seriously, sabre just keeps cranking out high quality stuff over and over again, raising the bar for the rest of us like a jerk (not really. I’m not bitter they write stuff so good I wish I’d thought of it first. Not at all.)

I never read stripper!Steve or stripper!Tony as a rule, but this came so widely recommended that I broke that rule and boy am I glad that I did. This is also the only fic on this list that’s a true-AU, with Steve being a non-powered vet from Afghanistan who left his army career to help Bucky and is stripping in Vegas to raise money for a prosthetic arm. He’s booked to do a private show for Tony, shenanigans ensue, and now they’re fake-married. This fic’s got some top-of-the-line banter and character development, but I particularly love it for its rich setting. Sabre paints a Vegas not just with strip clubs and blackjack tables, but KISS-themed minigolf, romantic dinners on the Eiffel tower, gaudy hotel lobbies, and making out on giant ferris wheels. It’s such a richly developed playground for the characters to play on, and through it, Steve manages to find a life for himself he’d given up on, and Tony finds multiple ways to show his kindness and depth of feeling for Steve. I know the word count’s long for this one but trust me, you’ve gotta read this fic.

Wait & Sea

Author: Lenalena

Word Count: 53,244

Summary: In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds....

Why You Should Read It:

This one’s old and popular enough to be considered one of the “classic” Stony fics, and for good reason. Lenalena doesn’t write too often and not as much as they used to, but the fics they have up there are an absolute delight.

This is another fic that I skipped a bunch of times for being outside my comfort zone, but when I finally read it I saw why everyone’s so wild about it. In this story, Steve’s defrosted a bit earlier and not revealed as Captain America. He and Tony are sent undercover to sniff out Hydra shenanigans on a cruise and, because it’s fanfiction, they’ve got to pretend to be a married couple while onboard. There’s tons to love about this fic, but the things that bring me back to reading it over and over is first, Tony’s kindness and the way he’s attuned to Steve’s feelings, which... God, just inject “kind, observant Tony” straight into my veins, please and thank you. This is also another really rich setting for a story, and Lena knows how to fold the the hokeyness of the cruise into the seriousness of the mission and the depth of feelings Steve and Tony are finding for each other in a really beautiful, layered way. It’s funny, it’s heartfelt, it’s steamy, it’s gripping... why are you still reading this here? Go check it out for yourself!

Ashes to Ashes

Author: dirigibleplumbing

Word Count: 51,582

Summary: After regrouping following some surprise time travel, the world's heroes and sorcerers come up with a plan to protect the Mind and Time Stones by taking them into space in opposite directions. The result involves a lot more time loops than Steve would like, but at least they're getting a second chance to stop Thanos. (As well as a third, and a fourth...) And if Steve takes the opportunity to try to reconcile with Tony, too—well, they have the time, and Steve's going to make the most of it.

Why You Should Read It:

Dirigibleplumbing’s another name in Stony fanfics that does not get nearly as much fanfare as they deserve. They’re consistently a really creative voice in Stony fanfics and I always look forward to their stories showing me something new. Go read all their fics, I need more people to geek out with me over them.

I tend to limit myself on Steve-and-Tony-mend-things-after-Civil-War fics not because they’re not good, but because they’re so heavy, and also the Sokovia Accords have five hundred layers of crap in them that no good fic could possibly hash out well. This one, though? When you add in the Infinity War/End Game fixit? Poetry. Art. Music to my ears. DP wrote a really engaging, twisty story where it’s hard to predict what’s coming next, in spite of it literally being a pseudo-Groundhog day scenario. The characterizations are great, the story is engaging, and the feelings are big and sad and eventually happy. Go read it, you’ll love it.

I have tons of other recs for this category but this seems like a good place to stop for today. Tomorrow’s Alternative Media Thursday, and I’ve got some real gems I’ve been saving for that day (aaaaand possibly a self-rec or two ;)

#capimrecweek #tony stark #Steve Rogers #stony #fanfiction #MCU #ficrec

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napoleon-usher · 3 years

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Basic Giffing Tutorial

How I make gifs for a simple scene + coloring + captions under the cut:

I’ll show you how to make this ^^^ gif (including the sharpening, coloring and captioning process).

Okay let’s start with what you need to do this: A version of photoshop with timeline (I use photoshop 2020 but probably any version will work, the program layout might just look a bit different), HD videos to gif from (preferably 1080p, especially for making big gifs, but 720p is also okay if you can’t get anything better, I just recommend making smaller gifs with it), some kind of video player that lets you trim clips in it (I use Quicktime Player because it’s the default for Macs)

1. Start with a video clip of the scene you want to gif. I usually download full episodes and clip scenes from the episode. My computer is a MacBook Pro and the default video player is Quicktime so I just trim my clips directly in that. In Quicktime you can just press CMD+T and it’ll give you trimming options. Most people use the screencapping method to make gifs, but it requires extra software and that’s not how I learned, so I’m going to tell you how to gif straight from video clips. I have no idea if there’s a difference in quality or ease between the two methods, but if you find that my way is too difficult then there are plenty of tutorials on how to do it via screencapping too like this one.

2. Open the clip in Photoshop. Just hit CMD+O and then select the video you want to gif from (or go to File > Open). Then, in the Timeline window at the bottom, scrub through the video and trim it (with the little scissor icon to the left) at the first frame of the scene/shot you want to gif and the last frame. Delete the excess clips. Before the next part, I usually crop off the black borders that some videos have if their original aspect ratio isn’t 16:9 (which most aren’t). For TV shows from Netflix, for example, the aspect ratio is usually 2:1 (or 540:270) so if you set the crop ratio to this you can get rid of exactly the black, no more and no less. I have several preset crop ratios (540:270 for TV shows, 540:225 for most movies, etc.). You can do further cropping after you have made and colored the gif, but getting rid of borders before converting the video to frames makes this easier. If your video does not have these black borders to begin with, ignore this part.

3. Convert video to frames. In the upper right hand corner of the Timeline window there is an icon that is four small lines stacked on each other (time line menu). When you click on it, a drop down menu will appear. In this menu select “Convert Frames > Flatten Frames into Clips.” Then click the button in the lower left hand corner (three small rectangles next to each other; frame animation button) that says “Convert to frame animation” when you hover over it.

After, it should look like either of these. Sometimes, if you crop the video before you start the process, it gives you two frames like in the image on the right above. If this happens, delete the frame with the shorter time stamp on it (as indicated by the number at the bottom). Next, click the dropdown menu in the timeline window again and select “Make Frames From Layers.” It will then turn into multiple frames, as shown below:

Delete the first frame (it will have a number under it, while the rest of the frames say “0 sec”), then use “select all frames” from the dropdown menu so that they are all highlighted and click “0 sec > other” and set the frame delay to “.06 seconds.” Scroll down to the bottom of the layers channel window and click and delete “Video Group 1″ then scroll back to the to top of the window and select all the layers by holding Shift and clicking on the top layer. Click the icon in the lower left hand corner that says “Convert to Video Timeline (video timeline button) and the frames should convert to long purple bars stacked vertically on top of each other. Then, under the “Filters” drop down menu at the top of the screen, select “Convert for Smart Filters.” This converts the layers to a smart object, turning the stack of bars a single purple bar and a single layer in the layers channel. When you press play in the timeline window, the image should move and play through like a video. If it doesn’t, you missed a step. It should now look like this (the left is the timeline window; the right is the layers window):

This seems like a lengthy process, but I have compiled most of these steps into a few Actions. With the actions (starting at step 3 of this tutorial) you use “Part1″, delete the frame with the shorter time stamp on it (if needed), “make frames from layers,” delete the first frame and Video Group 1, select all frames in Timeline and change frame delay to .06 seconds, select all layers in the Layers window, then use "Part2″. I assign my actions to function keys so all I have to do is use a few keyboard shortcuts ( i.e. Part1 is F1, Part2 is F2, etc.). This makes the whole process much quicker. Here is a link to download the actions I created for this process. Once you get the hang of using the actions, it all goes pretty fast. Also, when using the actions you might get messages like this:

Just click stop and keep going with the instructions.

4. Duplicate the frame in the layers window and set the top layer to screen using the drop down menu in the window (it’s the second from the top and should say “Normal” to begin with. That changes the scene from this:

to this:

5. Make coloring adjustments. Everyone colors gifs in their own ways, so you absolutely don’t have to follow what I do. This is just the basics of how I color:

I always start with Levels (some people use curves, some people use both, I never learned how to use curves though). Under the levels adjustment menu, I start by using the black point dropper and select the darkest part of the image. Sometimes it takes a bit of clicking around with the dropper to find what works. Depending on the scene (colors, lighting, etc.) I also move the sliders if needed. There’s no real formula to it, I just do everything by sight, changing things until it looks good to me. For this gif, I selected a dark part of Jamie’s hair with the black point dropper. Then I did some minor adjustments with the sliders on the graph. If you’re coloring a darker scene, the sliders are very useful for brightening the scene, but this is a fairly well lit scene so not much is needed. This is the scene with Levels added:

Next, I usually use color balance to fix the color changes that Levels made. This looks too yellow to me now, so I use the yellow-blue slider to add in blue. You’ll have to play around with what looks best for whatever scene you’re giffing, but I’ve found that most scenes I add blue and sometime add red or cyan, but rarely use the magenta-green slider. With color balance added:

Next I use a series of selective color layer. Make a new layer for every different color adjustment you make, it makes it easier to edit if you make a mistake or want to make changes later. I always start with Black, usually just adding a little to Cyan, Magenta, and Yellow so that it increases the contrast of the whole scene.

From there, you have to pick out what colors you want to accent or correct. You get better at this the more you do it. In this scene, I want to accent the green of the plants and the purple of their clothes. Normally I would do Red next to adjust skin tone, but because I want to increase the green in the picture, I’m going to start with Yellow. This will make skin tones look too yellow-green, but you can correct this with a Red Selective Color layer. The Yellow layer made the plants greener, but the Red returned the proper color to Dani’s skin.

I keep adding more selective color layers to bring out more color in the scene.

To make it even more vibrant, I use several Hue/Saturation layers to increase the saturation of certain colors.

Sometimes I also add a Vibrance layer, but for this scene it wasn’t needed. Lastly, I usually add a Brightness/Contrast layer. I prefer to get contrast out of deepening the blacks in the scene rather than use the contrast setting in this adjustment layer, but sometimes I do use it. Most of the time I just increase the brightness a little, depending on the lighting in the scene.

Really, coloring is all about just messing with different settings until things look right to you. I’m still learning new things every time I make a new gif. There are tons of other adjustments available that I haven’t even tried out, so feel free to mess around with them. Note: The more adjustment layers you add, the more the quality might decrease. I do try to do minimal adjustments normally, but I wanted to make this coloring fairly vibrant so it has a lot more layers.

If you are making multiple gifs from the same scene, repeat the process of Steps 1-4 and then copy the adjustment layers from the first gif to each subsequent gif. I normally group all the adjustment layers together (select the layers and press CMD+G) which makes it easier to copy the layers to another PSD.

6. Crop and resize the gif. You can crop your gifs any way you want. I’m in the habit of making rather large gifs (which is thankfully now possible due to the 10mb size limit) and most of my gifs are cropped at ratios of 3:2, 4:3, or 1:1. For longer scenes I usually use 16:9. Crop your gif at whatever ratio you want and then resize it. For Tumblr, there are specific dimensions that gifs have to be for them to format properly in posts. For “large” gifs (one per row), they must be 540px wide. Height does not matter. For smaller gifs they have to be either 268px (two per row) or 177px (three per row). Resize the gif by either using CMD+OPTION+I or going to the “Image” dropdown menu at the top of the screen and clicking on “Image Size” If you already cropped at your desired ratio, just change the width to 540, 268, or 177, according to the size gifs you want.

7. Sharpen the gif. After you have cropped and resized the gif as desired, you need to sharpen it. Because of the method I used in the beginning (duplicating the layers and setting the top to screen), you will have to add a Sharpening filter and a Gaussian Blur filter. Select the top layer of the gif (not the top coloring layer) and click on the “Filter” dropdown menu at the top then select “Sharpen > Smart Sharpen” These are my sharpening settings (if you’ve ever giffed before, or looked at other tutorials, you’ll notice this is sharper than most people would use. That’s because you also have to slightly blur the layer below it, which dilutes it to a proper sharpness):

Next, select the lower layer of the gif and go back the the “Filter” menu and select “Blur > Gaussian Blur” and set the radius to “1.0 pixels.”

These sharpening and blur settings are also actions I’ve created. If you download the action I listed before, assign them to function keys and you will just have to select the appropriate layer and use the function key to do the work. Additionally, learning the keyboard shortcuts speeds along the process.

8. Export/save the gif. Go to “File > Export > Save for Web (Legacy)” or CMD+OPTION+SHIFT+S. These are my save settings (I actually have no idea what any of these things mean... I’ve never changed any of them).

The important thing really is that you make sure that under looping options near the bottom (not shown in this screenshot) it says “Forever,” not “Once.” And also check how big the file is in the bottom left corner:

As long as the number under GIF is less than 10M, you’re good to go. Then save the file and name it.

9. Caption the gif (if needed). You can either do this in the PSD you already had open to create the gif or you can open the gif you just saved and caption it there. I find it easier to add captions directly in the current PSD. When it comes to captions, it’s really based on your own preferences. I’ve seen people use all different fonts, sizes, colors, and placements for captions. Some fonts I can recommend are: Myriad Pro, Calibri, Arial Rounded MT Bold, and Keep Calm.

There are plenty of others too. The main thing is that they normally look best when they are bolded and italicized. I have been using Keep Calm for my captions lately. I also add Stroke and Drop Shadow to the text (my text settings are also included in my Actions):

Just make sure the text is centered and has a good margin from the bottom.

This is what it looks like with those effects ( font: Keep Calm; size: 13; tracking: -25).

Anyway, that’s my basic process for gifmaking and coloring. I hope this gives you some kind of foundation to work off of. Just keep experimenting with different techniques and you’ll keep getting better. Read other people’s tutorials and tips and try them out to see what you like and works for you.

#if you're seeing this now i dont make gifs like this anymore #if you ask i'll make an updated tutorial #riah.txt

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cristalconnors · 3 years

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TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet.

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow?

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career.

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward.

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it.

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine?

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either.

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too.

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world?

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay.

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want.

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

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Non-binary lich x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This has been up on Patreon for a week now on early release. New stories for Tumblr go up on Wednesdays at the moment and are available there for a whole week before they hit Tumblr, so if you want to have access to the next one (it just went up), make sure you’re on the $5 tier. I’d love to have you as the newest member of the Patreon supporters!

Anyway, contents: It's 7688 words long, features a non-binary, skeletal lich, is set in a fantasy setting, and I don't think it comes with any warnings. Looking forward to your reaction!!

“So, you’re the new librarian…”

The softly rasping voice behind you startled the life out of you, and you dropped the three-volume stack onto the thick, oak table with an undignified squawk. The boom rang out through the castle library and one or two scholars shot glares at you over the top of their research. Turning, you found yourself face to face with a moving skeleton and your eyes widened even further.

Wearing a long, unadorned, shapeless, black robe with the hood pulled right up over the bare ivory of the skull, the figure had a glowing green light in their eye sockets and one of their teeth had been replaced at some point by a silver prosthetic. More than that, you couldn’t say, but it was apparent that their entire body was just a humanoid skeleton beneath the billowing robes.

And then the penny dropped. “Oh!” you gasped, straightening a little. “You’re… You’re Avery… the court mage…” How many liches could one royal castle have after all?

They dipped their head in a curt bow. “Indeed.”

“I’m sorry, I just… wasn’t expecting…”

Another little bow. “It’s quite alright. I realise that meeting a someone like me for the first time can be somewhat… unnerving.”

You opened your mouth to counter them, but realised it was actually true, and just nodded. “How can I help you anyway?” you asked instead.

They seemed to appreciate the segue into safer waters, and told you the name of the tome they were looking for. “It’s essentially a compendium of plants and fungi that grow only on the fringes of Silver Perch Lake in Aragantia,” they added. “A somewhat… specialised catalogue, I’m aware.”

With a nod, you headed to the vast catalogue system and in almost no time at all, especially given how new you were to the post, you and the court mage were walking silently through the shelves of the royal library in search of the book’s location. Avery made no attempt to talk to you, and you assumed they preferred it that way. After all, you supposed, what could a humble librarian have to say to a necromancer and a mage as powerful as them anyway? In your relatively limited experience of mages, they tended to look down on anyone not powerful or supposedly intelligent enough to wield magic.

As you proceeded further and further into the dark stacks, the light dwindled to almost nothing, and in that moment you cursed the innate flammability of paper and parchment, longing for a lamp of sorts.

Slowing, and trying not to fumble, you squinted and ran your fingertips along the shelves to keep a straight course. During your interview for the position, you’d been told about the glowing crystals that the team of three librarians had access to, but apparently you were still too junior to warrant their secrets yet. It had not been expected, it seemed, that someone as important as Avery would require your assistance. Re-shelving returns in the main library was all you’d done so far in your short tenure after all.

“Here,” the lich said from behind you, the word spoken aloud making you jump all over again, and a moment later, a flickering ball of blue light wafted past you to float a pace or two in front of you. It moved when you did, bobbing slowly.

“Handy,” you grinned back at them over your shoulder. “Thanks.”

In the eerie pulsing light, the dark sockets of their skull and the smooth bone looked almost frightening, but you reminded yourself that this was not an old haunted castle from a horror story, and was in fact the hub of a great trading network whose machinations were aided by the work of the court mage, who also just happened to be a lich and, by extension, a necromancer.

With no expression at all to offer you comfort or reassurance, Avery just lowered their gaze and waited for you to move on again.

The book was right where it should have been - thank all the library gods - and once their skeletal hands had taken it reverently from you, little bones clicking softly as they shifted, Avery turned and left you in the stacks with a short ‘thank you’, the light light for company, and a thousand questions buzzing around your head.

Naturally, the first place you went after that was the section on liches and phylacteries, and there you lost yourself for well over an hour.

After that, the court mage found their way back to the library almost every time you were on duty. To your surprise, they were actually quite chatty, answering your tentative questions about their research with long and interesting answers, leafing through the book they’d just taken out to show you a diagram or ritual, constellation, or phase of the moon, and relaying its relevance to their work at the time without reserve.

“I’d always thought mages were secretive about their work,” you ventured one afternoon as sunlight flooded into the open study room at the back of the library where Avery had set up camp for the afternoon.

At your words, they looked up, an oddly tense and intrigued set to their head and you got the impression that, had they had the body to go with the bones, they might have been smiling curiously. “Why do you say that?”

“Well,” you began, feeling a little warm under the collar. Their close scrutiny made you shuffle and turn a little away from them to lessen it. “At the university, your lot always kept to themselves, you know? And no one else was allowed in their section of the library without a mage escort and a note of recommendation from about fifteen different tutors… I got it eventually, of course —”

“— of course,” they interrupted with a wry smile in their voice.

Their tone may have been light and joking, but it carried the weight of enormous respect too, and you choked for a moment before babbling on again. “I’m not suggesting that anyone should just go in and help themselves to dangerous magical texts, don’t get me wrong… It was just… frustrating to be treated like that, that’s all.”

You turned to find them still regarding you with that birdlike curiosity and for a moment you forgot that they were little more than an immense reserve of magic holding together a stack of humanoid bones and wearing a dark robe. It might have been comical to see them that way, but honestly, in that moment, their blazing intelligence and slightly off-the-wall humour endeared you towards them even more. It wouldn’t have been a secret to suggest you had the beginnings of an almighty crush forming. If you didn’t beat it back soon, it would become unwieldy and unmanageable, and it wouldn’t end well for either of you. A member of the castle staff you might have been, but the court mage was one of the most powerful figures in the entire kingdom, and not meant for the likes of you.

And anyway, who was to say that there was anything about you to interest them anyway? The whole point of becoming a lich was to strip away all earthly connections save for the absolute fundamentals - the skeleton - and become an entity largely made of magic, the better to channel it. There were, you had to admit, one or two cases of liches binding themselves to living lovers, and accounts detailing the fierceness and loyalty of those rare unions had left you breathless as you’d scoured the volumes on liches all those weeks ago, but you couldn’t assume that Avery would be such a person after all.

If they had given a reply, you didn’t hear it behind the buzzing, rushing disappointment in your ears at that thought. Closing yourself off a little, you excused yourself politely and returned to your duties in the library beyond, leaving them alone in the study room. After all, Avery still had to figure out a way to harness the power of the sea itself in order to reduce the risk to life of those currently engaged in preparations to dredge and deepen the large trading harbour along the coast. Such complex calculations were hardly in the realm of a librarian.

About a week later, as you sat in the servant’s parlour one afternoon, where most of the castle staff gathered during their time off, a bookish young satyr, with curly, ash blond hair and contrastingly dark brown skin and horns, the stoop of a scholar, and a pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses sliding down his nose, approached and asked for you by name in a warm, stutter-laced tenor.

“Yeah, that’s me…” you said, turning from your conversation with one of the naga guards. “What’s up?”

“Y-Y-You’re the llll… the lllll…” the words just died on his tongue or stuck there like treacle, refusing to leave one syllable and move onto the next, but he took a breath and on the exhale said, “Librarian…?”

“I am,” you said. “If you need something from the stacks though, I think Timothy is on duty today.”

He nodded. “I… I know. Avery… sss-sssent me to… to llll… to lllllook for you. They’d llllike you to… to… to…” At the repetition, his cheeks flushed a bit, but you waited him out and he rallied. “To attend them in their t-t-t-tower to c-c-consult on something.”

“Oh. Really? What… now?” you asked and the satyr nodded. He had a flighty, twitchy energy to him, but his features were kind and open and you decided immediately that you liked him. You turned back to the naga with whom you’d been sharing tea and easy conversation, and shrugged. “Guess I’ve been summoned. See you later.”

She nodded and hissed, “Good luck…” at you and you followed the young scholar out of the parlour. His large hooves clopped conspicuously on the stone of the passageways and he set quite the pace for you to keep up with.

“Are you… like… Avery’s… assistant or something? I’m sorry, I don’t know the technical names…”

He nodded. “Name’s D-Devon,” he said as he ducked left through a doorway and held it open for you to follow. “Apprentice m-mmage and runec-c-caster.”

“Sweet,” you said, impressed. “I studied some very basic runes for another project a long time ago, but I’m not really magical in any way, so… I didn’t pursue it. Is it as complicated as I remember?”

He smiled sweetly and shrugged. “Varies…”

You smirked and said, “That sounds like you’re being modest and generous, but I’ll let it slide. What does Avery need from me anyway?”

With a soft chuckle, Devon pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose and shrugged, beginning to climb a tight, spiral staircase. “Nnnot sure. They’ve been di-di-distracted all morning.”

“Guess I’ll just have to find out. I’ve never been up to the mage’s tower.”

The staircase went on and on forever and you actually had to stop for breath twice, rather embarrassingly. Devon was fitter than his scholar’s physique suggested, but he didn’t comment. You supposed doing this every day would build up anyone’s cardiovascular system in no time. “The view had better be worth it,” you grunted as you started up the last stretch of spiral staircase, and Devon nodded.

“Oh, it is.”

“Thank all the gods,” you hissed.

The door to Avery’s study was open, letting light flood in from the room beyond. For some reason, you’d imagined it would be dark and intimidating, and possibly full of bats and spiderwebs and creepy cursed objects in display cabinets, but theirs was a chamber full of bright light and warm colours. Taking half a moment to catch your breath again, you paused on the threshold while Devon headed on inside with evident and easy familiarity to inform Avery that he’d found you.

“Ah wonderful,” came that papery voice from inside. As you heard it, you wondered how a skeleton - with no vocal cords - could produce sound, deciding to chalk it up to magic and move on. “Thank you, Devon. Would you mind running over the plans for the layline ritual one more time while we have a quick chat?”

“Nnnnot at all,” Devon smiled, and disappeared into another room out of sight.

The delicate tread of footsteps on the bare floorboards announced Avery’s approach, and you stepped inside, not wanting to be seen to be lurking nervously. “Hi,” you breathed, still a tiny bit winded, as they moved into view around the huge trestle table that occupied the centre of the room. It was littered with books and pieces of velum, scrolls, and ancient clay tablets, all stacked at frankly alarming and precarious angles.

“Hello,” Avery said with a real warmth in their voice. You could hear the smile, even if they had no lips to form the gesture. “I apologise for making you come all the way up here. I realise it’s a long way from your usual quarters and duties.”

It was true - the library was in an entirely different wing of the rambling old citadel, and your sleeping quarters were again on the far side of that from the tower.

You shrugged. ��It’s nice to see a new bit of the castle, I suppose.”

They tilted their head, the movement almost birdlike. “You haven’t seen all of it?” they asked.

You shook your head. “Only the bits I need to. Besides, I’ve only been here a couple of months now.” And in that time, you’d seen Avery almost every day at your library desk. “What did you need me for?” you asked with no small degree of incredulity in your voice.

With a little chuckle that honestly sounded a little nervous, Avery turned to a small writing desk that was tucked up against the stone wall beside a window with a spectacular view. They picked up a scroll and undid the ribbon that held it together, and you found your eyes fascinated by the tiny finger bones of their hands. You wondered what they’d feel like against your skin and flushed hot again, unable to look Avery in the face.

“This is a copy of an inscription that was found in a tomb just north west of here, and while I am familiar with the writing system used, I cannot crack the meaning of it. I’m sure it’s right there, but… I wondered, since you mentioned you’d studied the Early Peoples, if you might take a look at it for me?”

You blinked. “You can’t read it?”

“I can read it,” they said, “But I don’t understand the words. I know the symbols upon which the language is based, but not the language itself.”

“I thought there was nothing you didn’t know,” you murmured fondly as you stepped over and took the parchment from their extraordinarily delicate looking hand. The urge to touch grew once more almost overwhelming.

A soft snort of laughter almost in your ear sent shivers down your whole right side, the skin prickling into goosebumps. “Please,” they scoffed good-naturedly. “Besides, if I knew everything already, I wouldn’t need to make such frequent trips to the library, would I?”

“And here I thought you were coming all the way down there just to visit me,” you quipped self-effacingly, turning your attention to the inscription and missing they way they went completely still before shaking their head ever so slightly.

It took longer than your pride might have liked for you to figure it all out, and you sent Avery scuttling about their office for three different dictionaries and half a dozen grammar tables before you were happy that you’d got it right. Devon had long ago excused himself for the evening, but you’d barely even noticed him leaving, though the murmur of their soft conversation had drifted around you for quite some time while you teased out a bit of odd grammar.

When you looked up at last, you found Avery standing alone by the window, bathed in the rosy light of sunset. The rich, warm rays made the black of their robes seem dull and almost drab - humble beyond what you’d have expected of a court mage with the coffers of the castle at their fingertips - and the angle of the light blazing into their face almost eclipsed the green, misty glow in their eye sockets. For just a moment, they almost looked like nothing more than an ordinary skeleton in an anatomy lab. When they felt your gaze on them, however, they turned - every bone animated and shifting fluidly, bone scraping with a soft, familiar whisper over bone.

They cocked their head again and you smiled. “All done, I think,” you said, standing from where you’d been hunched over the small, cluttered writing desk, and cracking the tension out of your neck with a grunt.

“Thank you,” they murmured. “I am indebted to you yet again, it would seem.”

You shrugged. “What’s it for anyway?” you asked. “I mean… I don’t really see how knowing that the sun will hit the back of the tomb on the winter solstice is of much use to anyone…”

They gave another little movement of their head that seemed like a pout to you, though you had only the bare skull to go from. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure. The tomb contained artefacts that thrummed with energy, so it would indicate that the Early Peoples had access to - and some degree of control over - magic too. Perhaps that date was of significance to them too. I will have to return to the site on the solstice to find out. Then we’ll know if it was of any ‘use’ as you say, or if it’s just interesting.”

“I see,” you said and your stomach chose that moment to growl at you like a spoiled house cat.

“Would… Would you like to stay here for some supper? I can have food brought up here to my chambers if you’ve missed out…” they said awkwardly, turning away from the window and back towards the central trestle table. As they moved the line of gilded sunlight slid from their delicate brow bones and plunged their skull into shadow again behind the hood. You’d never seen them without it raised. “It’s… later than I realised…”

“I’d have thought you could just magic some food up for me,” you grinned, honestly hoping it would disguise the fluttering nerves you felt at the thought of sharing a meal up here. Plus, their tone had gone inexplicably sad somehow.

They looked down at the table and said, “I could do that, of course, but transmuted food tastes awful, or… so I’ve been told. I don’t eat any more for… obvious reasons.”

“Do you miss it?” you blurted.

They stilled and trailed a bony fingertip across the wood. “Yes and no. I miss the pleasure that eating my favourite things brought me.”

“You still remember the taste…?”

Fixing you with a steady, if sidelong, look, they said, “I’m not that old, you know?”

“I…” you said and then stopped when they started laughing. “What?”

“I have to admit that I find it immensely entertaining any time someone assumes I’m a thousand years old. I’m not. I’m only thirty.”

“Thirty?” you gawped. “That’s… That’s so young to —” again, you cut yourself off before you said something truly insensitive, but Avery didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m used to it. And it is indeed young to have your physical form completely stripped bare in exchange for unfathomable magical power. It’s not a choice made lightly, and it’s not a choice that everyone would be prepared to make. It’s rare these days for someone to undergo it willingly.”

Horrified, you blinked at them. “Willingly? You mean it’s inflicted on people?”

They shrugged. “Rarely. It’s hard to control a person’s soul like that, but with the right runes on the phylactery, it can be done. Mercifully, that wasn’t the case with me though, and if you’re caught, the punishment is severe.”

“So… how does someone so young get the position of court mage?”

With another rasping laugh like dry autumn leaves, Avery said, “As opposed to someone so old and experienced, you mean?”

You shrugged, still kind of mute with surprise at the new revelation, and they laughed again. “Sorry.”

“I went to university with the princess. We became friends, and she saw what I could do. I was still an elf then though.”

“You’re… You’re an elf?”

“I’m a lich,” they corrected, “But yes, I was an elf when I was officially alive. Did my short stature and particularly fine wrist bones not give it away?” they joked self-deprecatingly, proffering their pale wrist towards you to examine.

When you actually reached out and touched them, however, a spark like static jumped between you and you both gasped.

“Excuse me,” they gasped, withdrawing their hand immediately. “I… That hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“What was it?” you asked, rubbing your fingertips and thumb together where the skin tingled. It hadn’t hurt, and it left your entire body tingling all over beneath the skin, and heat was rapidly pooling between your legs.

“My magic,” they said. “It’s usually not as forward and ill-mannered as that. I apologise if it startled you.”

“Forward? Ill-mannered?” you asked, amused and intrigued. “You say that like magic has a personality…”

“It does,” the lich sighed, the bones of their ribs creaking softly.

While, academically speaking, you knew what any elven skeleton looked like, you still ached to know the exact shape of Avery beneath the black robes that draped shapelessly over them; the exact way their bones fitted together; the exact colour; any breaks they’d sustained, leaving the evidence in their skeleton… “Alright, but why… ‘forward’?”

“And here I thought I was being terribly obvious,” they muttered.

“Obvious?”

A tilt of their head in your direction served perfectly as a rueful glance, the ardour behind it striking you in the chest with an alarmingly painful pang, and exactly as it occurred to you that you’d learned to read Avery pretty well by now, you also realised precisely what they’d been insinuating. “Oh…” you said, imbuing the sound with significance.

“Oh indeed,” they said bitterly. “Never mind. I quite understand that the attentions of a lich are not… not what everyone would aspire to after all… I apologise if… if I made you uncomfortable. I will not persist.”

“Wait, slow down,” you said, stepping forward suddenly and trying to catch their gaze with your eyes. It was hard to tell where they were really looking, given that all you had to go on was the rough direction of their head and the soft glow in their otherwise empty eye sockets, but when you got the impression that they were looking directly at you, you spoke up. “I’m sorry,” you began.

“Don’t be sorry,” they hissed, trying to turn away.

“No, wait, that’s not… that’s not what I meant!” Finding you had no choice, you reached out and latched onto their wrist. The bones beneath the long fabric of the sleeves felt so achingly fragile that you almost recoiled for fear of hurting them, but you made your fingers loosen just a fraction and stayed put. You needn’t have worried anyway; Avery was tethered and still at your touch in a heartbeat. “I mean, I am sorry, but I’m sorry for being dense, not that you… you know…”

“That I’ve been so poorly attempting to flirt with you for the last month?” they finished dryly.

“Now that I know, why don’t we start over…?” you said, releasing them and smiling hopefully.

Adopting a truly sarcastic pose and tone, they held out their skeletal hand and said nastily, “I’m Avery, I’m a lich, and I’m apparently an appallingly poor flirt.” The ugliness in their voice was not directed at you, however. Avery had turned it back on themselves and it galled you to hear someone so brilliant sound so defeated.

Unflinchingly, you took their hand and stared fiercely back at the lich who had become your friend in these first months at the castle, and perhaps something more. “I didn’t mean to start over that far back, but I’ll play your game.” You added your own name and profession, that you were human, and finished by saying, “And I’m very much open to being flirted with by you, however poorly you think you do it.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Avery said, their thumb playing back and forth over your skin before promptly changing the subject. “You never did answer me about dinner though. Would you like to stay here and eat? Or would my not partaking make you uncomfortable?”

Sensing that they needed a moment’s diversion, you allowed them to skirt around the issue of being interested in you, and shook your head. “Dinner here with you sounds lovely. Plus the view is spectacular.”

“I knew it. You want me for my advantageous chambers,” they moaned, still deflecting defensively.

“I meant that there’s something to keep you occupied while you wait for me to finish, that’s all,” you huffed in response to their teasing. “But if the view bores you by now, I’m sure you could always read to me from some dusty old volume you’ve nicked from the library and neglected to return…”

“You wound me!” they said, placing both hands over their heart, or at least, where their heart would have been if they weren’t just a skeleton anymore. “Is there anything you don’t eat? Would you like wine?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m good with most things, as far as I know, and…” you bit your lip and then reluctantly admitted that actually a glass of wine might be really nice. Your salary was not so meagre that you couldn’t afford a drink or two in the local taverns, but you suspected a wine from the castle cellars might be a little more special.

Instead of ringing for a servant, Avery picked up a quill and a small piece of paper, and dictated their message aloud after a quick flick of their wrist had brought the quill to life. It skimmed across the page like a breeze-blown willow branch trailing through a pond, and as you watched, you wondered if that was what Avery’s handwriting looked like, or whether the script was a result of magic, or the quill itself. Either way, it was beautiful, and you suddenly thought of the rather romantic notion of having love letters penned to you in that hand…

Their voice turned more confident as they dictated the note to the quill. “I am entertaining a guest in my tower tonight. Please have a fine supper for one brought up to the mage’s tower at your earliest convenience, with a bottle of Aktissian red too, if you please.”

“Avery!” you gasped, recognising the quality of the wine purely from it’s location.

They shrugged and finished off the note with another brief gesture, and you watched as it disappeared with a little pop. “I like to dictate my messages in case the person on the other end cannot read. Not all of the castle staff have been blessed with our educations, after all. In such a case, it will read itself aloud.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” you commented.

They shrugged. “It saves me sending Devon, or going myself and terrifying the wits out of the kitchen staff, or ringing for someone to trudge all the way up here, only to have to go back and return later…” It seemed odd to you now that Avery could be frightening to anyone, but you recalled your own unease at your first encounter, and merely smiled at them again.

Wherever the note had gone, it must have reached the right ears, because twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at Avery’s door and a castle servant entered with a large tray.

“Thank you so much,” Avery said as the half-orc set the meal down on the table.

“Anything else you need, mage?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.”

You chimed in with your own thanks and the servant left.

Avery waved a hand at the table where they’d cleared a space amid the chaos of stationary and books, and you sat yourself down. They lifted the lid of the silver cloche and revealed a beautiful supper that looked fit for the princess’ high table. Eyeing Avery, you caught a little glint in their glowing eye sockets, and you assumed that they were pleased too.

In fact, Avery did not read to you while you ate, but they did watch you rather intently. “You’re going to make me all self-conscious,” you muttered. “This is delicious though.”

“Would you rather I not watch you?”

“No,” you said honestly. “I’m just not used to such… intense attention…”

“You’re gorgeous,” they murmured awkwardly, voice rich and husky, as though their magic was crackling uncontrollably beneath the surface.

After a pause, during which you encouraged your heart to beat normally, and the poor organ took absolutely no heed of your pleas whatsoever, you said, “So are you…”

If Avery could have rolled their eyes, you were sure they would have. Instead, they just pressed their hands to the table and leaned back in their chair. “I’m just a pile of bones and magic now… I’m honestly surprised you permitted me the indulgence of courting you.”

“It’s not an indulgence, Avery. Well, maybe it is, but it’s an indulgence for me. Each visit you’ve paid to the library has left me in quite a state, I’ll have you know.”

The lich went still at that and then very slowly tilted their head to one side. “Oh?” they asked, voice dipping lower with obvious intrigue. “Care to explain that?”

With a half smile, you set down your cutlery on your empty plate and pushed back a little way from the table to make yourself more comfortable. Crossing your legs, you said archly, “Any time you come close to me, you leave me tingling all over. I don’t know if it’s your magic, or you, or what, but… When you were leaning over my shoulder back there —” you nodded over at the writing desk, memories of their right hand pressed to the wood as they peered over your shoulder at your progress, the heady scent of incense and ozone swirling around their robes, the particular timbre of their voice as they hummed in thoughtful understanding at your translation…

“Yes?” they prompted, voice cracking.

Heat coiled between your legs and in your lower body, slowly filling you with a warm, glowing sensation that shot up your spine and made your head spin. “I could hardly think,” you whispered. “It’s a miracle I finished the translation.”

The light in their eyes guttered and flickered before returning with a new, brighter intensity. Where before it had been a pale, pastel green, it now burned with a searingly hot blue.

“Avery?”

The lich sat there and stared at you before twitching their head and shoulders a little. “Forgive me. We… We probably shouldn’t move that quickly…”

You raised your eyebrows. “How quickly?”

“Quickly,” they said. “You deserve to be courted properly.”

“And what if I’m as impatient as you are?” you asked, heart pounding. Gods, you wanted whatever they had to give you and you wanted it now. You ached, inside and out. “It wouldn’t stop you from still ‘courting’ me if you wanted…”

Avery stood and then stalled. “I…” They growled softly in frustration and started again. “I am… I haven’t… not since…”

“Avery… I know what you are. I know what you must look like under that robe, and I still want you,” you said fiercely.

“Gods,” they hissed, turning to face you, eyes blazing blue.

“Your eyes?” you asked. “They’ve changed colour. Is that your magic?”

They nodded. “What… What would you like from me?”

“Touch me,” you said honestly.

“I can conjure… uh… a variety of physical… um… shapes…” they faltered awkwardly and your brain supplied the rest, but they raised one hand and you found that where the bones had been before, they now supported a ghostly hand. They turned it over to show you their palm and then flipped it over again. You could still see the bones through the spectral hand that moved like translucent, living glass.

You shook your head, “Come here,” you said, and they did.

You stood up and ignored their new spectral hand in favour of running one fingertip around the orbital bones of their skull. Avery shuddered, joints rattling audibly beneath the robes as it shivered down their whole skeleton.

“Can I kiss you?” you asked. “Could you create… a tongue for me?”

With a mute nod, looking stunned, Avery opened their jaw and you saw a glowing, green tongue inside, translucent and glistening.

Pressing your lips to their teeth felt odd at first, especially when the cool of that single silver tooth caught your lips, but when the tongue immediately lapped at your lips, begging entry, you forgot the strangeness of it. You came alive again beneath that kiss as Avery’s hands found their way to your waist and then up to the back of your head where they let their bony fingers snake through your hair before gripping you tightly and tugging until you pulled back with a gasp. Panting and dizzy you let Avery nip at your exposed neck, tongue occasionally laving at your skin, shockingly cool and leaving it tingling.

One of Avery’s hands palmed your groin questioningly and your knees nearly went out from beneath you. “Yes,” you gasped. “Oh gods, please… I want… touch me… please…”

Your chest heaved and you let them steer you back into your chair behind you. When you landed, they tenderly began to undo your waistband, and you lifted your hips to slide a little way free of your clothes. Avery’s eyes blazed as they stared at you, your arousal evident with your clothes around your ankles. “May I use this…?” they asked, opening their mouth to reveal that long, thick, prehensile tongue.

“Gods yes,” you blurted, lifting your hips weakly again. “Please… Avery… I need you…”

The lich knelt before you and hesitantly placed their skeletal hands on your thighs. Looking down at them, nestled between your legs, you felt like you could come just from that sight alone.

“I’m not going to last long,” you warned them, practically shivering with arousal. “Gods… Avery, you’re…” Whatever Avery was to you in that moment, you never got the chance to tell them.

The instant their tongue touched you, lapping teasingly at you to start with, magic and sensation roared through you, ripping along your nerves and wiping your mind blank of all but intense pleasure. The slickness of their conjured tongue, supple and almost like a tentacle as it pleasured you, and the coolness of the mouth behind, set against the firm, unyielding pressure of their bare bones digging into the muscle of your thighs hard enough that it would bruise, drove you to the quivering edge in minutes.

Your hands scrabbled helplessly at the arms of the chair, your hips bucked unbidden up into the sensations Avery was offering you, fire danced along your nerves, and your blood sang in your ears. “Avery!” you screamed in warning, and then, with one final flick and press of their tongue against your most sensitive spot, you shattered.

With your mind blank, vision dark, Avery tore your release from you and prolonged it, either with their magic or just by their presence, until you whimpered and slumped in the chair, limp and spent and ironically boneless.

Finally, after lingering just a little longer, Avery sat back on their heels and stared up at you, one hand still on your quivering thigh. “Beautiful,” they rasped. “Gods above and below, but you come so beautifully.”

“I’ve never… come like that,” you croaked, throat raw. Had you come so hard you’d made yourself hoarse?

Avery summoned a goblet of water from the table to their hand and stood. “Here,” they said.

You drank, and as you set the goblet shakily back on the table, you glanced at them and saw a glistening droplet slide down their exposed ankle bone and drip onto the floor. Seeing where your gaze had gone, they chuckled. “Am I expected to remain unaffected by what you just gave me?” they said archly as you did your own clothes up again, just enough not to be completely exposed any more.

“How…? What…?” You began, but then shook your head and leaned forwards. Tentatively, you reached out a hand for the front of their cross-over robes and unbuttoned them at the waist. Drawing the fabric slowly aside, you felt them tense, but you kept going and they permitted it.

As the final fitting came loose, the robes hung open like a coat and revealed their skeleton beneath. To your surprise, they were not merely an empty ribcage and spine, hollow pelvis and slender leg bones. Constantly swirling inside them like a mixture of phosphorescence and ink, was a kind of magical core. Like an entity all of its own, it pulsed and coiled, writhing with tendrils of light and darkness that played along their ribs and teased up their spine like ivy. “Gods, Avery, you’re stunning,” you murmured and looked up to find their face tilted downwards, regarding you carefully.

Your eyes roved down their body to their pelvis, where the phosphorescent light seemed to have coalesced, spiralling around their hip bone like swirling liquid in a glass and… dripping tangibly down their leg.

“Can I… touch it?” you asked and they nodded. There was a long drip of it running down their femur almost to the knee, so you brought your fingertip up and trailed it cautiously through the strange, glowing wetness. “Is it magic?” you asked as your finger went numb and then began to tingle rather enticingly. Gods, what would that feel like against your body… even… inside you? Now there was an unexpected thought.

“It’s… akin to… oh gods,” they hissed suddenly, their hand flying to your shoulder as you traced a circle through it on the very edge of their curving hipbone.

“Mmm?” you asked, not relenting but not moving anywhere else.

Struggling to form words, Avery tried again. “Akin to when a ghost becomes corporeal.”

“Your magic is coalescing like ectoplasm?”

“In a way, oh… oh… ohhhh,” they moaned, staggering as you moved further up the wide scoop of their hip bone towards their spine and back again. “I can’t… I can’t keep upright… if you do that again… I’ll fall… I…”

“You want to move somewhere else?” you asked and they nodded.

Turning and leading you unsteadily without a word towards a closed door that led off from the study, Avery showed you to their bedroom and then hesitated, as though unsure as to quite what you wanted with them now that you had then naked.

“Bed?” you asked and they nodded, encouraged.

The fact that they seemed to be waiting for you to balk and run stung, but it made you more determined than ever to show them pleasure. Especially since they’d apparently not been with anyone since becoming a lich.

“Tell me what you like best,” you said.

“Your touch,” they blurted immediately.

“Alright,” you said with a tiny laugh. That was a start. “Lie back then.”

They lay down on the dark green blankets of the neatly made bed, their robes pooling behind them like ink, and stared up at you as you followed and sank down beside them.

Watching that swirling magical core for a moment, you reached out and traced their wrist first, working up to their shoulder, and then to that ever-present smile on their bare skull. The light in their eyes now burned a softer blue, occasionally flaring to the intense cobalt you’d seen before when you skimmed a particularly sensitive spot, and their jaw worked as if they were panting and gasping but couldn’t summon the magic to make the sounds.

The storm of essence in their ribcage swirled and crackled, tiny forks of lightning dancing through the clouds where their heart would have been, and you watched their spine flex and arch. The bones of their hands clenched the sheets into balls and as you moved lower and lower down their enchanted body, you watched the phosphorescent light begin to condense again as it hit their bones, running down in thick, slow rivulets to pool in the fabric of their robes, leaving only glittering, darker patches behind.

“Where’s most intense?” you asked, assuming you knew already. The point where the two halves of their pelvis met at the centre proved to be extremely sensitive, and as you ran your finger around it, they lurched wildly, the magic in their chest flaring and sparking again. “There?”

“Yes,” they gasped.

The magic began to grow, solidify, and as you circled the cool bone of their lower pelvis, a long, thick tentacle of magic coiled out of it and wrapped around your hand. It was real and tangible, corporeal, and slick as sin. “Avery,” you moaned as it clenched tightly around your wrist like an octopus’ limb.

“Want you,” they said. In the next moment, the tentacle released you and coiled back on itself, creating a soft passage inside them. Taking advantage of this, you slid two fingers into the channel and crooked them against the solid wall of pulsing magic.

Avery yelled with pleasure, spine arching again like a bow at full draw, magic expanding out through their ribs like a storm cloud, unable to be contained. Pressing hard against their walls, you rubbed intense and tiny circles while the magic flared and reached for your hand in return.

Flowing back and forth like waves of the ocean, Avery’s pleasure enveloped you and you felt it in your own mind as suddenly and as keenly as if it were your own. Their magic was reaching out for you and you allowed the connection without hesitation.

“I’m so close,” Avery whimpered, body taut and thrumming.

“I can feel it,” you whispered.

At that, Avery chanted, “I’m… Oh gods, there, like that… I’m… I’m going to… I can’t hold back any more… I…”

“Come for me, Avery,” you begged, and they broke.

Tendrils of black shadow shot out from their body like vines, filling the corner of the room and staying there like webs, while the core of their magic pulsed and throbbed, blazing with blue light. Liquid magic rolled over your hand as they came and came, body undulating and heaving, jaw open wide in a rictus of pleasure. The sight of it was almost enough to make you come too, but instead you simply stared at the magic you’d brought out and the pleasure you’d wrought in them.

Eventually, the black tendrils evaporated into a fine mist and vanished altogether, and the cloud of roiling magic settled down again and retreated back within Avery’s ribcage. The phosphorescent magic lingered on your skin, however, and as you moved to lie down beside them, you slid your hand down the waistband of your clothes and touched yourself with it still on your skin.

Avery was barely able to turn their head to watch as you brought yourself to another blinding orgasm, but their fingertips brushed against your free wrist just as you neared your second peak and you tumbled over the edge with a grunt and their name on your lips.

In the aftermath, you both lay there for a long time before either of you moved. Swallowing, you turned to look at them and found that the light in their eyes had gone back to green again, though this time it was dark and almost imperceptible. “Avery? You alright?” you asked.

They hummed softly in response. “Tired,” they admitted. “That… That was a lot of magic. I didn’t expect…” they huffed a laugh.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, horrified.

“No,” they smiled, gripping your fingers in theirs for a moment before they lost the strength and went limp. “Quite the contrary. But I’m spent, in more ways than one.”

“Sorry…?” you ventured and they laughed. “Can I stay?” you added.

“Of course,” they replied. “I’m right in the middle of the bed, aren’t I? Do you have enough room?”

“I could use a little more, but if I lie on my side, I can manage alright.”

“I can’t even lift a finger at the moment,” they admitted. “I’m sorry. If you need me to move, you’ll have to lift me yourself.”

The vulnerability they were offering you struck you deeply. “Alright,” you said. “You sure you don’t mind?”

The tiniest shake of their head was all they could muster.

Sliding your arm beneath their neck and your other behind their knees, you tentatively raised them and nearly gasped at how light they were.

As if sensing your surprise, Avery managed a dry chuckle. “Elf, remember? Bones of a bird…”

You set them back down on the further pillow and nestled in beside them. “Can I put my head on your shoulder?” you asked.

“It won’t be comfortable. Bring a cushion over…” they whispered, nodding at the other side of the room where a modest chaise longue, upholstered in what looked like silk, sat against the wall, adorned with a couple of dainty pillows. The sight made you smile for some reason, and you took the opportunity to clean up a little at a washstand in the corner of the room. When you returned with a cushion, you found that the light was completely extinguished from their skull.

The magic still swirled away inside their chest, and as you laid the pillow down on their shoulder and watched their core shifting lazily - contentedly - you found yourself following them into a blank and blissful sleep.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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#lich #exophilia #lich x reader #non binary monster #gender neutral reader #reader x monster #monster x reader

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marvelgurl · 3 years

Text

Off-Limits Part 2

Characters: (Eventually)Tom Holland X Reader Osterfield, Harrison Osterfield,

Word Count: 1854

Warning: Language, Fluff, Over-Protective Harrison

A/n: Feedback is always welcome, the good and the bad. Also Tag list for this series is open.

I don’t have a set schedule for this series. i will be posting at least 1 a week. maybe 2 if I’m feeling generous

Tumblr Masterlist Off-Limits Masterlist

You pulled all your bags inside before yelling for your family.

“Hello? Anyone home?”

“Y/n?” You heard a voice coming from the kitchen. You also heard noises coming from the upstairs as you walked past.

“Mum?” you walked over and hugged her. “I have missed you so much.”

“I have missed you too Darling.” You pulled back to look at her.

“Where is Harrison?” You looked past her to see a figure standing at the table, with his back turned to you. You quickly let go of her, moved around her and ran over to him and wrapped your arms around him, you felt him tense up.

“Y/n, that’s not Harrison.” She tried to warn you, but it was too late.

“What?” you quickly let go and turned slightly towards your mother to see Harrison standing next to her. He gave you a small wave. Your eyes went huge.

“Wow, I see how it is. Tom gets a hug before I do.”

You looked back to see Tom, he turned around. He had a large grin on his face. He was trying to hold back a laugh. “Hey Y/n.”

You close your eyes and took a breath, opened your eyes and look at Harrison.

“It’s not my fault that you guys look alike from behind.” You walked over to Harrison and try to give him a hug. He held his hand out in front of him to stop you.

“No, we don’t.”

“Come on, you so do.” You pulled Harrison over to Tom. “Tom turn around.” He gave you a confused look before turning around. You walked over to your mother. “Mum, don’t they look the same?”

“Not really.” She looked from them back to you.

“Seriously?! They have the same hair color and their build is the same. The only real difference is Harrison is slightly taller.”

Both Tom and Harrison turned around with their arms across their chests and they were giving you a weird look.

“Fine, never mind. I’m going to unpack.” You throw your hands up in defeat.

“Wait, where’s my hug?” Harrison asked just as you got to the doorway.

“Hug Tom. I gave it to him.” He looked over to Tom.

“I got you Haz.” Tom opened his arms to Harrison.

“Y/n, come on.” He started walking over to you. Leaving Tom standing there.

“Nope.” You took off running.

Harrison ran after you. He ended up catching you before you got to the stairs. He was able to get his arm around your waist and pulled you into a hug.

“Ugh, Let Me Go Harrison!” You struggle to get out of his hold, but he is slightly stronger than you. You looked over to the doorway to see your mother and Tom laughing their asses off.

“Not until you give me a proper hug.” You felt his grip loosen up slightly. You took that opportunity to grab his hands and push him back. He ended up stepping back, losing his balance and falling over the couch. You turned around just in time to see him go over. You couldn’t hold in your laughter.

“Y/n Y/m/n Osterfield!” You looked up to see your mother walking over to you with an angry expression on her face. “Watch what you’re doing! You almost knocked over my vase.” Her face softened.

Your mother started laughing. Then you and Tom joined her. She went back to the kitchen after that. Tom came over to help Harrison back over the couch. They shared a look before looking back to you. It was a look you knew all too well.

You started backing up. Holding your hands out in front of you.

“Harrison, Tom Don’t you dare.”

“Do what Y/n?” Harrison asked as he and Tom started moving closer to you.

“Yeah Y/n, Do what?” Tom tilted his head as he said it.

You backed up to the door. You had 2 options here. 1 try to fight the boys off or 2 you push your luggage at them and make a break for your room. When they had gotten close enough, you pushed your bags at them and started running up the stairs. What you weren’t expecting was for Tom to jump towards the banister and grab it to pull himself over. Tom ended up knocking you down onto the stairs, with him falling on top of you. Luckily you were able to cradle your face, so it didn’t hit the stairs.

“Oh shit! Y/n are you okay? I didn’t mean to knock you over.” He quickly moved off you. He rolled you onto your side. He held you there by placing a hand on your hip. You just started laughing.

“Oh my gosh, let’s not do that again.” Your laughter slowed down, now you were just trying to breath.

Harrison had come up the stairs and was standing next to Tom. Tom was still down next to you, holding you in place. He wasn’t looking away from you. You looked at him, you just looked at each other for a few seconds before Harrison spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I have taken worse falls and hits than that.” Not realizing what you had said, you looked up to see two worried faces looking down at you. Then you quickly spoke to fix it. “Dancing is a lot harder than it looks guys. One wrong move and it can change your entire career.”

You start getting up slowly. As Tom went to help you up Harrison moved in front to help you stand. You finally gave him his hug. You wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. You let him go and went back down the stairs to get your bags. Harrison and Tom grabbed the larger bags and carried them up for you.

After dropping your stuff off in your room, the boys went to leave. Tom stopped in your doorway and turned back.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” You looked up from your bag.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t realize I would hit you.”

“Tom I’m fine. See.” You put your arms out to the side and turned around slowly. “Nothing’s broken, I’m not bleeding or dying. So, it’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile before walking over to him and giving him a hug.

“Okay.” You let him go but he didn’t move.

“Tom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Umm do you want to hang out tomorrow?”

“Yeah. We have a lot to catch up on.” You smiled at him.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He also had a smile on his face. He gave you a small wave as he was leaving.

Over the next few days Tom, Harrison and you were inseparable. It was just like old times. Before Juilliard, acting and movies or just adulting in general. You absolutely missed these two. Even though you talked almost every day, while you were gone. That will never compare to actually being with them.

One day, Tom had come over with Tessa to hang out with you and Harrison. Only Harrison was gone for the day.

“Hey Tom. Oh, my Goodness! You brought Tessa!” you immediately opened the porch door for her. You got down and started petting her. She was so excited. She jumped up, put her paws on your chest and started licking your face.

“Hello Pretty Girl. I missed you so much.” You started kissing her on the head.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you like Tessa more than me.”

“I mean...” you showed Tom Tessa’s smiling face. “She’s adorable.”

“I’m adorable too.” You just looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

“Wow. I think Tessa and I need to leave now.” He started pulling Tessa away.

“No, you’re adorable too okay.” You stood up with a sad look in your face, from the loss of puppy love.

Tom walked back up to you. Tessa was right back at your feet.

“You only said that to get her back, didn’t you?”

“Do you really want me to answer that.”

“No, no I don’t.”

“Wise choice.” You gave Tessa one more scratch before talking again.

“Haz isn’t home but do you want to come in? I’m watching Harry Potter. I’m only 10 minutes in, I can restart it.” You saw him perk up at the mention of Harry Potter.

“Absolutely.” He quickly walked in and let Tessa off of her lead.

You went and sat down on one end of the couch. Tom sat on the opposite end. You called Tessa over, she sat down in between both of you. By the third movie, you were partially laying down. Your head was on Tom’s shoulder and Tessa was cuddled up next to you. Tom had started playing with your hair, it was making you fall asleep.

Before Harry could even cast his first Patronus charm, you were out. Tom was starting to fall asleep as well. His head was doing the sleep bob. He ended up moving too much, which caused you to move and it scared Tessa. She jumped off the couch and went to the recliner. When you didn’t call her back Tom looked at you with his sleepy eyes.

Tom ended up maneuvering the two of you so that you were both laying down together. He made sure that you were on the inside of the couch. He had his arms wrapped around you. You cuddled into his chest.

A little while later your mother had come into the room and saw you guys. She couldn’t help but smile. She took out her phone and took a photo of the two of you. Harrison walked through the door just after she had put her phone away. She covered the both of you with a blanket.

“Mum, what are you doing?”

“SHHH! You will wake them.” She shushed him quickly.

“Who?” He looked over the back of the couch to see Tom and you cuddling. He wasn’t very happy about that and your mother could see that.

“What’s wrong with you?” She turned her full focus to onto Harrison.

“I’m fine.”

“I can tell when one of my children are upset. So, I ask again, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, but we should probably wake up Tom. Nikki and Dom will be wondering where he is.” Harrison wanted to break-up this cuddle fest as quickly as possible.

“No, I will call the Hollands and let them know he is here.”

“Whatever.” Harrison just walked up the stairs to his room without saying another word.

“okay…” She turned to Tessa who had woken up during their conversation. “Come on Tessa. Let’s get you some food and maybe a potty break.”

Tessa quickly followed her to the backyard. Your mother had gone to get her some food and water. Tessa was over so much that Y/n had bought food for her, just in case she was here for a long period of time. She placed the bowls on the floor so she could come back to it whenever she wanted. After that she let Tessa back in and went off to bed herself.

Off-Limits Taglist: Open

@aidinniram

@houseofflufff

@justafangirlduh

@shrutipatel08

@thevelvetseries

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #reader osterfield #harrison osterfield #mcu imagine #mcu cast #rpf fanfic #rpf #rpf tom holland #fan fiction #fanfic #new series #fluff #angst #Holland brothers #off-limits #part 2 #tom holland x reader osterfield

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