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#and yes of course it was in the southeast

kashilascorner · 2 years

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quick i need help. my whole dissertation i had a question in which i based the investigation on. however i had no hypetheses. the conclusion of my dissertation led me to pose one hypotheses. So all and all, my dissertation has a question and the dissertation's hypothesis is the dissertation's conclusion so do i explain to the tribunal that this is basically preliminary work for a future investigation (which i won't do because i won't pursue an academic career) and i'm not sure if that's valid for a master's thesis or do i try to hide the fact thus leading the tribunal to believe i have no conclusions/results on my work

#i don't want to ask my tutor because she didn't seem to see a problem in any of this but as the #date for the defense is getting closer i have doubts about literally everything #like i told her this was preliminary work and she said that's ok but. BUT!! i just realized that yes my results/conslusion and hypothesis #are the SAME because the goal was to find an hypotheses and idk if any of this is valid. like i assume it is but will i get a bad grade for #doign a work that's so simple (probably intelectually immature too) and not innovative at all #but then with my topic there was no way i could do more like. i don't have the capacity to analyse the statistical data from china #and a bunch of southeast asian countries and frankly the statistics by themselves wouldn't give me much to work with and of course there #was absolutely no way for me to go to china and do fieldwork like. lol. no money no sponsorship no knowledge of mandarin etc #blabla

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tkingfisher · 1 year

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Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

#crayfish #crawfish #crustaceans #nature

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zedecksiew · 4 months

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DECOLONISING D&D

In 2019, after seeing yet another round of alarmist discourse in Xwitter about how Dungeons & Dragons is FULL of COLONIALIST tropes and patterns, and needs to be revised, SCRUBBED of its PROBLEMATIC FILTH---I rage-tweeted this brainfart:

"Decolonising D&D"

I've seen this thread round the community, since. Humza K quotes it in Productive Scab-picking: On Oppressive Themes in Gaming. Prismatic Wasteland quotes it in Apolitical RPGs Don't Exist. Most recently, it was referenced in a 1999AD post about Western TTRPGs (an interesting discussion on its own merit; one that already has a counterpoint from Sandro / Fail Forward.)

If folks are still referring to it five years later, maybe I should give the thread a little more credit? Perhaps the fart miasma has crystalised into something concrete.

In the interest of record / saving this thought from the ephemerality of Xwitter, here is the text in full, properly paragraphed, and somewhat more cleanly expressed:

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"DECOLONISING D&D"

Firstly: saying "D&D is colonialist" is similar to saying: "the English language is colonialist".

If your method of decolonising RPGs is to abandon D&D---well, some folks abandon English; they don't want to work in the language of the coloniser. More power to them!

For those who want to continue using the "language" of D&D---

Going forth into the "wild hinterland" (as if this weren't somebody's homeland);

to "seek treasure" (as if this didn't belong to anybody);

and "slay monsters" (monsters to whom?)

Yeah. There's some problematic stuff here, and definitely these aspects should make more people uncomfortable.

But! I think it is an error to "decolonise D&D" by scrubbing such content from the game.

That feels like erasure; like an unwillingness to face history / context; like a way to appease one's own settler guilt.

Do you live in the West? Do you live in any Asian urban metropole? White or Person of Colour(tm)---you are already complicit in colonialist / capitalist (yes, of course they are inextricably linked) behaviour. (I can't speak for urban metropoles elsewhere, but I bet they are similar centres of extraction.)

Removing such patterns from the TTRPGs you play might let you feel better, at your game table. But won't change what you are.

I think it is more truthful and more useful NOT to avert one's eyes from D&D's colonialism.

The fact that going forth into the hinterland to seek treasure and slay monsters is a thing, and fucking fun, tells us valuable things about the shape and psychology of colonialism. Why conquistadors in the past did it; why liberal foreign policy, corporations, and post-colonial societies do it today.

Speaking personally:

I write stuff that evokes / deals with the context I'm in---Southeast Asia. An intrinsic part of that is looking at the ways colonial violence has happened to us---as well as the ways / reasons we now, supposedly free, perpetrate it on others.

A long chain of suffering. Heavy stuff.

I also write for people who want to have fun / kill monsters / pretend to be elves, of course. But for those people who want to consider serious stuff like colonialism: I offer no FIGHT THE POWER righteousness, no good feeling, no answers.

Only discomfort. Because the truth is uncomfortable.

Here's a screenshot of the Author's Note for Lorn Song of the Bachelor:

"Any text inspired by Southeast Asia has to reckon with colonialism ... This text presents a difficult situation; there are no easy solutions. "... If I offered a mechanical incentive for you to fight colonial invaders, you wouldn’t be making a moral decision, but a mercenary one. "The choice you face should echo ... the kind of calculus my grandparents faced."

I stand by that.

Also: might we be more precise and more careful about using the term "decolonising", please?

Here I quote Tuck and Yang's landmark and (sadly) still trenchant "Decolonization is not a metaphor":

"Decolonization brings about the repatriation of Indigenous land and life; it is not a metaphor for other things we want to do to improve our societies ..."

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Further Reading

So this post isn't just me reheating a hot take, here are some touchstone writings from around the TTRPG community about colonialism as a subject and mode of play in games:

"Jim Corbett was called upon to hunt down another fifty maneaters over the course of the next 35 years. Together, those tigers had killed over 2000 people, for much the same reasons as the Champawat Tiger - injury, desperation, starvation, and habitat loss. Would you look at that. The root cause was British colonialism."

D&D Doesn't Understand What Monsters Are from Throne of Salt

"Another effect of having colonizers in my setting would be giving players the opportunity to drive them away from the islands, their home. This maybe just be for the catharsis. After all, isn’t catharsis a big part of why we play roleplaying games?"

I’m Adding Colonizers To My Setting from Goobernut's Blog

"When you have a slime boy and the other characters are a really fat lizard and one's playing Humpty Dumpty, it completely shatters the straight-faced serious authoritarian illusion of race, and replaces it with complete fucking nonsense. I love the idea of proliferating the number and types of "races" into absurdity, to the point where the entire logical structure of it collapses in on itself and race as a category ceases to become coherent or meaningful in any sense."

Interview with Ava Islam - Designer of the RPG Errant from Ava Islam / The Lost Bay

"Perhaps most critically, the fundamental basis of power is not land or even money but manpower. That’s what local rulers fight over, and what Chinese commercial networks export, in return for unique island products. It’s what the European colonists really need (even if it’s not what they most desire). There is rich loot to be grabbed in the form of spices, Spanish silver, Indian gold, sea cucumbers (the Chinese love ’em), perfumes, dyes, cloth etc. so there’s ample opportunity for piracy, trade and smuggling, but the key to long-term success – the key to independent survival – is nakedly and unquestionably uniting people."

Counter-colonial Heistcrawl: previous high scores from Richard's Dystopian Pokeverse

"They worked their own land—which they dispossessed from American Indians—or became small shop owners or opportunistic gold diggers or bounty hunters or itinerant ranchers. To me, substituting these situations for one ruled by industrial monopoly ignores that the Wild West is a perfect example of how capitalism operates outside of (or prior to) mass industry, instead being composed of self-employers and self-sustainers."

Fantastic Detours - Frontier Scum from Traverse Fantasy / Bones of Contention

"... using the Western framing and D&D's baked-in imperialist and capitalist structure to get people earnestly participating in the experience of forming imperial power structures and the early roots of regional capitalism ... The PCs aren't the drifters on the train or the townsfolk watching with apprehension - they're the railroad itself."

An Arrow for the General: Confronting D&D-as-Western in the Kalahari from A Most Majestic Fly Whisk

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#colonialism #theory #ttrpgs #d&d #politics #lorn song of the bachelor

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trueloveistreacherous · 2 months

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This is the first of 20 shows Girls5eva has booked throughout the Midwest and Southeast. Boy, it's hard to believe I'm even here, given the start I had in life. One day there will be a biopic, and yes, of course I'll play myself. From birth, goo-goo, gaga, to death. I think there's a bomb on the yacht! Renée Elise Goldsberry as Wickie Roy in season 3 of Girls5eva (2021-present) created by Meredith Scardino

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rookieloveskashi · 3 months

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Tell Me Again

Part of the ANBU Series Prev → Next

Relationship: Hatake Kakashi x fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI

Warnings: smut, mild dubcon (power imbalance), degradation, oral sex (male receiving), cum swallowing, spanking, vaginal fingering, (very light) ass-play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation, praise kink, squirting, multiple orgasms, possessive!Kakashi, POV reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: Kakashi finds himself in an uncomfortable situation after his authority is called into question.

AO3 Link

Following closely on Kakashi’s heels, you hurried through the corridor with your teammates at your flank. The Hokage had summoned Team Ro for an urgent mission, but so far, that was all the information you had. It must be something highly classified if the ninja who’d delivered your summons hadn’t been informed of its contents.

The door was closed when your team arrived. Kakashi knocked and announced your presence. “Team Ro, reporting for duty, sir.”

The Hokage’s voice answered from inside. “Come in.”

Kakashi opened the door and entered first, followed immediately by Tenzō. You were right behind them, and when you entered, you were surprised to find not only Lord Hiruzen, but the leader of the Root faction of ANBU, Danzō Shimura.

You’d heard some dark rumors about him, but you’d never really seen proof of any of it. His high standing with the Hokage was also a point of confidence in his favor. Still, you didn’t like the way both Tenzō and Kakashi tensed as soon as they crossed the threshold. It wasn’t the way a shinobi would stand at attention while being addressed by a superior. There was an undercurrent of discomfort…and wariness.

“Thank you for getting here so quickly,” Hiruzen said, either not noticing the strange tension or choosing to ignore it. “I’ll get right to the point. I need the four of you to assist one of Root’s squads.”

Kakashi responded with the barest of nods. “Sir.”

Danzō stepped forward. “A few of my soldiers have been attempting to assassinate a man who poses a threat to the Leaf. Originally, we planned to do it quietly of course, but my team hasn’t been able to find an opening. We need a diversion to separate some of the man’s guards from him.”

“And we’re to be that diversion?” Kakashi answered, sounding less than pleased with the situation.

“My men are led by a shinobi under the codename Hinoe,” Danzō continued without acknowledging Kakashi’s question. “He will give you the orders when you arrive. This map will show you how to get to their location.”

Danzō held out a scroll that Kakashi accepted and opened immediately. As he looked over the route, Lord Hiruzen cleared his throat. “Memorize that and leave it behind,” the Hokage requested. “And Kakashi?”

“Yes, Lord Hokage?”

“The Root squad is taking the lead on this. I trust that you will defer to Hinoe’s command.”

Professional and cool as he was, you still noticed your captain bristle. “Of course, sir.”

“Well, no time to waste,” Danzō announced. “It shouldn’t take you more than a day to reach them. Better get moving.”

All told, the journey didn't take as long as expected. The team was making extremely good time—almost like Kakashi wanted to prove that he was better than the Root director’s prediction.

The destination was a small farming village in the southeast region of the Land of Fire. Neither Danzō nor Lord Third had explained exactly how the man in this village was threatening Konoha, but it was not your place to question the mission.

Upon arriving at the destination, Kakashi directed the team to stay out of sight until contact with Root was confirmed. You, Tenzō, and Yūgao trailed behind your Captain in the shadows as he clandestinely searched for the man Danzō had described.

Finally, Kakashi gave the signal for the three of you to come out.

Hinoe was a tall man, with dark, messy hair and a large build. From what you could tell, he was a bit taller than your captain, but the hood of his cloak was up, so your judgment wasn’t perfect. He wore his porcelain mask, which resembled a tiger. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, you felt like you could sense his appraising gaze as he took a pause before allowing your team into the Root squad’s hideout.

They had set up in an abandoned building not far from the center of town. The way the Hinoe explained it, there was currently a small faction in the process of overtaking the village to control production and distribution of their crops with the larger goal of negotiating for power within the Land of Fire. Many of the farmers who had resisted had been killed, leaving behind a village that was more of a ghost town.

“Alright.” Hinoe put his hands on the table in the center of the room, where they had a few scrolls laid out. “You know what you’re doing?”

“We’re here to assist under your command,” Kakashi answered diplomatically. “We were told that you need a distraction to split your mark’s defenses.”

“Be easier if I knew what you could do.”

Kakashi gave Hinoe a brief explanation of the abilities and strengths of each member of Team Ro so that the Root Captain would know how to best utilize the reinforcements. Hinoe nodded and seemed pleased to hear that you were medically trained. Apparently, the shinobi in Root were better trained in inflicting damage than healing it. Although that was generally true for all branches of the Leaf’s shinobi forces, it seemed to you like Root was neglecting a key area of shinobi knowledge.

Still, not your place to question.

“According to the intel we’ve gathered, we should have a good chance to attack tomorrow,” Hinoe continued. “You guys rest up, and we’ll fill you in in the morning.”

It was obvious that Kakashi felt Hinoe was already underestimating his squad, but he bit his tongue and deferred to the other captain, just as Lord Third had requested. “Anywhere in particular you want us to set up?”

Hinoe shrugged as he gestured to a closed door. “That room’s empty,” he smirked.

Kakashi led you, Tenzō, and Yūgao into the room without a word. You were sure that your captain would have rolled his eyes if he’d thought Hinoe was worth the energy.

The room was a decent size, but that only made it more obvious just how empty it was. Instead of furniture, you found discolorations on the floor where any furniture used to be. Tenzō shut the door and sighed. “Yeah, that’s about what I expected.”

“Do you think the place was looted in the coup?” Yūgao asked.

“That’s a possibility, but I think it’s more likely our comrades out there already took anything useful for themselves.”

“Good thing we came prepared.” Yūgao scoffed as she set down her pack with her bedroll. “I’m just gonna say it—these guys already seem like assholes.”

Some might say being an asshole came with the territory when talking about shinobi. While a lot of ninjas had reputations for their ruthlessness on the battlefield, you knew most of them to be decent people. But you also knew there were shinobi who thought their rank gave them some kind of privilege, particularly among the members of the Foundation. And with these guys, Yūgao’s assessment seemed right on the money.

“Remember, we’re just here to help them finish what they haven't been able to accomplish on their own,” Kakashi stated. “Let’s just keep our heads down and get the job done. The sooner we do that, the sooner we leave.”

Not even a day later, you were headed back. But not to Konoha; no, you were rushing back to the hideout, keeping a lookout for any enemies that might be following you. Kakashi was in front of you, carrying a wounded Hinoe on his back; one hand covering the deep gash in the Root commander’s leg to keep from leaving a trail of blood.

As soon as the three of you made it inside, Kakashi tossed Hinoe onto the nearest futon while you secured the door.

“Fuck!” Hinoe shouted, grasping at his leg. “You fucking idiot!”

“Me?? Are you kidding?!” Kakashi spat. “I'm not the one who went in without securing the area!”

“Oh shut up, Friend-Killer,” Hinoe sneered as he removed his mask. “You’ve got no room to talk.”

Kakashi tore off his porcelain mask and tossed it aside. “I told you not to go in like that!”

“Well you're not in charge here! And I told you we needed to bring one of the men in alive. The fuck were you doing electrocuting everybody?!”

“The situation was getting out of control,” Kakashi seethed. “It’s called defending my squad.”

“It’s called defying my orders! And after this report goes to the Hokage, you won't have a goddamn squad.”

You watched their shouting match from the corner of the room, too uncomfortable to take another step. With their masks gone, the rage in their eyes was fully visible. But at Hinoe’s last comment, you saw Kakashi step back; a different kind of rigidity in his stance that made you want to come to his defense, even though that would only make things worse.

It was true—Hinoe had ordered Kakashi to capture the insurgent leader’s right-hand man. But the plan had fallen apart from the jump. Hinoe had gone off-script and rushed in, sparking a fight that almost immediately devolved into chaos. And with Konoha’s joint forces separated into three-man units, there was no one but you and Kakashi to salvage the situation.

Outnumbered nearly three to one, the situation looked dire—until Kakashi stepped in with his signature jutsu and saved all three of you from being killed…or worse.

He was a one-man army; the strongest shinobi in the Leaf by a mile. Yet Hinoe’s influence with Danzō could ruin him.

“Oi, Medic.”

You quickly turned your head from Kakashi to Hinoe, worried that you were now the subject of his ire. If he could ruin Kakashi, he could make it like you never existed in the first place.

“Yes sir?”

Hinoe gestured to his leg, indignantly drawing your attention to the deep gash and the blood stain that was soaked into the fabric of his pants. Your eyes flashed back up to his impatient face. “Gonna do something about this or not?”

“O-of course.” You made your way over to him and knelt down beside him, focusing your healing chakra and channeling it into the wound. Maybe, if you could heal him quickly, his anger would diminish and you could save Kakashi some aggravation.

Hinoe shifted his weight, sharply sucking air through his teeth at the sting of your chakra. Groaning, he leaned forward until his face was nearly pressed into your neck. When he breathed in again, you could feel the air being pulled into his lungs.

“Hmmmmm. You smell good…” He inhaled again, then audibly gnashed his teeth together right by your ear. “Good enough to eat.”

You stiffened at his unexpected, inappropriate behavior. The chakra flow in your hands stuttered enough for him to notice. Instead of taking your reaction for the discomfort that it was, he smirked.

“Think I could use someone like you,” he smugly chuckled. “Sure Danzō can arrange your transfer.”

“That’s enough.” Kakashi was suddenly standing behind you with his hand on your shoulder. The shock caused your chakra flow to completely stop. You looked up at him, but his fierce gaze was locked onto your patient. “The bleeding has stopped. I take it you’ll survive.”

Before the other man could respond, Kakashi pulled you to your feet and led you to the other room, slamming the door behind him.

“Captain Kakashi—”

“Do you want that?” he barked, clenching his fists at his sides.

“Want what?”

“Reassignment.” He gritted his teeth. “A new captain.”

A new captain? The idea sent your stomach into your throat. “No!”

Kakashi relaxed his fists, but still held his inflexible posture. “No?”

“No,” you pleaded. “You’re my captain. I want to stay with you.”

For the next second, he just stared at you—both eyes open. You’d seen Kakashi use his Sharingan in battle, but you’d never had it trained on you. It was invasively hypnotic, making you feel beyond exposed; like you’d been stripped not only of your clothes but your skin as well.

“Tell me that again.”

His words were delivered with as much authority as any other command he’d given. But when you complied, you responded more to the hint of vulnerability that he hadn’t been able to hide. “I want to stay with you, Captain—Kakashi.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “That’s what you want?” You nodded, and watched that vulnerability in his eyes be replaced by relief, then quickly replaced again with hunger. “Show me.”

He pushed you down with his full strength against your shoulder, forcing you down to your knees in front of him. His eyes were both dark and piercing as he looked down at you. “Show me how badly you want to stay with me.”

Your breathing turned shallow as your gaze shifted to his lap, where his deft fingers worked to free himself. Saliva gathered in your mouth and your heart hammered against your ribcage. You couldn’t help but want him, but in the back of your mind you wondered if this was the time or the place.

Holding his half-hard dick in one hand, Kakashi extended the other and put two fingers under your chin to tilt your head up.

“Eyes on me, Y/N.”

He lined the head of his cock up with your waiting mouth, using his grip on your chin to pull you slowly forward. “Eyes. On. Your. Captain.”

Who were you kidding? Time and place didn’t matter to you. Only Kakashi did.

You nodded and started licking at the veins on the underside of his cock as he forced himself deeper. “That’s it.” He took his hand from your chin and placed it on the side of your head. “Show me what you're willing to do to make me keep you around.”

Kakashi watched as you worked your way further and further down his long shaft, keeping your eyes wide open and trained on his face. The taste of the sweat on his skin filled your mouth. He was still warm and worked up from the fight, and the sharp scent of him had you feeling tipsy and impatient. You wanted to press your nose against his skin and worship him any way he wanted you to.

Eagerly, you used your tongue to spread your saliva over your lips, easing your journey forward. You let the head of his cock slip into your throat, relaxing your muscles and taking him to the hilt, despite how big and overwhelming he was. Your desire for him had you pliant and accommodating, getting you exactly where you wanted to be.

“All the way on the first try?” he cooed. “Such a whore.”

Pink heat dusted your cheeks and you glanced away. He reached down and grabbed you by the front of your neck.

“Hold it. And keep looking at me,” he demanded. “Look at who you're on your knees for. Don’t you forget.”

You locked your eyes back on his face, swallowing around him and taking a deep breath through your nose for a fresh hit of his scent.

“That’s my girl.” His thumb pressed into your throat, forcing your muscles to tighten. It triggered your gag reflex and left you choking and sputtering around him. Through it, you fought to keep your eyes on his, blinking away the building tears.

“Take it, Y/N. That's right. Mmm, you're doing so good for me.”

Drool leaked out of your mouth and ran down your chin. Your lips trembled at the base of his dick, stretched to their limit and begging to move. But he held you still, just watching as you submitted to him.

He smiled behind his mask and tugged you forward by his continued hold on your throat. “You want more room to move?”

You hummed in agreement, but the sound was lost in a wet, garbled mess.

“Maaaa, you should have said so.” Kakashi chuckled and released your neck, pulling back just enough to give you space to breathe. “Go on. Be a good girl and suck until I cum.”

You immediately craned your neck forward to slide your lips all the way down to his pelvis. His cock twitched in your throat and you gagged again, but you grabbed his thighs for stability and bobbed your head back and forth, searching for a tenable rhythm.

“Fuck, you don't even care if you choke on it,” he moaned. “Such a little slut. You'll do anything to make my cock feel good.”

Kakashi put his hands on either side of your head, holding you in a rather gentle contrast to the way his hips thrust back and forth.

“I'm the only one you're this good for, aah? I’m the only one you're such a desperate slut for.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and blinked up at him, letting the vibrations in your throat tease him as you licked and sucked.

“That's it.” Kakashi indulgently sighed, letting his head fall back and his shoulders slump. “Keep sucking, baby. Only for me.”

You dug your fingers into his muscular thighs, bobbing your head along his full length to be sure you stimulated every inch. Even though he had broken eye contact, you still looked up at him, hoping he would praise you for continuing to follow orders.

Not to mention, the man was just absolutely gorgeous—selfishly using you for every ounce of pleasure and self-satisfaction you could provide, feeding both his sex drive and his ego. Seeing him in the throes of losing himself drove you out of your mind with lust. You were confident enough in your rhythm to take one of your hands away from his leg and tuck it between your own, touching yourself for some much-needed relief. But no sooner had your toes curled than Kakashi grabbed your upper arm and pulled your hand away from yourself.

“Don't,” he growled. “That pussy is mine. Don't you dare touch my property.” You whined, but he took no pity on you, instead tangling his hands into your hair on either side of your head. “That little clit isn't getting touched until you make me cum.” Kakashi tugged your hair as he started pistoning his hips into you. Your hands both desperately grasped for his thighs again. “Your Captain gets off first this time, Y/N,” he huffed. “I’m your Captain. You do this for me, and me only.”

His hands held you firmly in place, a vise you couldn't escape from as he thrust into your mouth faster and deeper, barreling against the muscles inside your throat with no regard for anything but his own pleasure—staking his claim.

“Only I get to fuck this pretty face.”

He started using his grip on your head to pull you in to meet his thrusts, his pelvis colliding against your lips and leaving a mess of spit glistening in his wiry silver hairs. You watched him through the tears in your eyes. His face was redder than it had ever gotten from sparring or training. Kakashi was focusing all his energy; all his frustration into using you like it was your only purpose to offer him relief.

Suddenly, he whined out as you felt sticky, salty fluid coat the inside of your throat. Kakashi’s fingers dug into your scalp to trap you tight against him. You gagged, shocked by the sheer volume of it, dripping down your throat and blocking your airways.

“Swallow it,” he gasped. “Fucking swallow it, Y/N.”

The pulse at the base of his cock beat against your lower lip. He twisted your hair around his fingers and held your face against his pelvis as another spurt joined what you hadn’t yet managed to handle. You felt a fat tear roll down your cheek as you swallowed yet again.

“Good girl. Don't waste any. Swallow it all.” His shoulders steeply rose and fell as he worked to catch his breath, even as the last drops of his cum still wept into your mouth. “Don't you dare stop until I tell you to.”

His image was blurred through your watery eyes, but you were determined to hold eye contact while you drank his cum and watched him come down from his high. The tight creases around his eyes softened as the tension he'd been carrying all day finally subsided. Even as he began to soften in your mouth, you continued to gently work your tongue over him. You didn't want to overstimulate him, but his order was clear.

“Alright,” he panted, “enough.” He held your head in place and carefully pulled his hips back. The skin of his dick was flushed pink and sensitive, but that didn't stop you from wanting to lunge forward and cover him in kisses from knees to navel.

It seemed your attention had wandered from where Kakashi wanted it. He tugged upward on your hair just enough to bring your eyes back to his. “Stay right where you are.”

He raised an eyebrow in warning, then let go of your hair, watching to be sure you would obey. As a display of your loyalty, you made sure not to move a muscle.

Kakashi grinned, then grabbed the pillow off his bedroll and tossed it on the floor beside you. He kicked it to bring it a little closer to where he’d been standing, then knelt down on it. He tucked his calves beneath him and settled down with his muscular thighs forming a nearly flat surface. Then, grabbing you by the hair, he yanked you over his lap and bent you forward, arranging you across his thighs with your ass in the air.

“We’re not done. Once isn’t gonna be enough this time.” Kakashi tugged your shirt over your head with one hand and shoved your pants and panties down with the other. His hand rubbed a circular pattern over your exposed ass. “Clearly, I haven’t left enough of a mark on you.”

Kakashi drew back his hand and brought it down on the round flesh of your ass, a loud SMACK resounding through the room. It wasn’t exactly a surprise—what else could he have been planning in his position? But you jumped just the same, your nails digging into his leg.

“Hey.” He grabbed your wrists and held them against the small of your back, one crossed over the other. His left hand held them together while his right resumed its smooth motions over your tender ass.

“Now you’re going to count for me, so I can see how many times I have to spank you before my handprint is permanently on your ass.”

There was no time for you to respond before his wide palm collided with your ass again, hard enough to bring tears to your eyes. “O-one.”

“Mmmm, that was actually the second one, Y/N. Try again.”

He spanked you again, his hand landing in exactly the same spot. You winced, but the arch of your back gave away just how much you enjoyed it. “Th-three.”

“Much better.”

Another harsh spank to your ass had a high-pitched whine tumbling from your lips. You bit down to try to stifle it, used to Kakashi expecting you to be silent. Instead, he tightened his grip on your wrists and tugged backward to strain your shoulders. “Did you lose count already, stupid girl? Guess we’ll have to start ov—”

“Four!”

“Good girl.” SPANK.

“Five!” SPANK. “Six!” SPANK. “S-seven!”

He took a break, instead choosing to grope your other butt cheek. You felt his weight shift as he leaned over for a look at you. “Hmm, I think I’m starting to see it.”

After his assault, you couldn’t believe that there wasn’t a bright red imprint nearly covering your butt. Whether he was telling the truth or not, he still slapped his hand down on the sensitive flesh.

“Aah! E-eight…”

“Eyes up.”

You turned your head and looked at him through fresh tears. His hair was falling wildly over his face, his gaze piercing you like white-hot iron.

“I want an even ten,” he stated. “Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Captain Kakashi.”

“Good girl. Two more, right? Ready?”

“Mhmm.”

He hummed his approval before bringing his palm swiftly down on you, the sting making you clench your butt cheeks together. You sharply gasped but remembered your job. Panting through the delicious pain, you continued. “N-nine.”

The word was hardly out of your mouth before he repeated the action. Your sore body hadn’t expected the blow. Your back arched again, and the sound that came out of your mouth was completely pornographic.

“AAAH!! Ten!”

Kakashi released your wrists. “Look at me.”

You put your palms flat on the ground and turned to face him. His right hand resumed rubbing soothing circles over your ass, while his left hooked under your chin and pointed your face up toward his.

“My pretty little crybaby,” he smiled. “You did well. I think you deserve a reward.” He slid his hand down enough to stroke his finger between your legs. You shivered at the delicate touch while he laughed. “What's this little hole doing dripping like this? You get this wet from sucking my cock and getting spanked?”

Heat pricked your cheeks. Kakashi was exactly right, and he knew it. His index finger slid into your cunt with absolutely no resistance.

“Such a fucking whore,” he growled. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

“T’you, Kakashi.”

He pushed his middle finger in with the index. “And who am I to you?”

“M-my captain…”

“That’s right. And, what’s your job?”

“Follow your orders,” you moaned. “Do whatever you say.”

“What a good little subordinate you are.” He pumped his fingers faster, angling his knuckles to scrape over the spongy area behind your clit. “Just for me, right?”

“Yes!” you cried. “Yes sir!”

His thumb gently circled the puckered flesh of your asshole. “I bet you’d let me in here too, wouldn't you? Little slut. Oh yeah, you’d just love it. Letting your Captain play with all three of your pretty holes on the same day?”

In truth, it wasn’t something you’d ever really been interested in before. But if that was what Kakashi wanted, you knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He chuckled darkly. “Maybe another time.”

Kakashi put you back up on your knees, then extended his own legs in front of him. You snuck a glance between his legs where his dick was half-erect again already.

“C’mere.” He gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap, your legs folded behind you and your back against his chest. He still wore his black undershirt, but you could feel the heat emanating from his body. Kakashi put his knees between yours and used the leverage to force yours apart, spreading your legs and giving himself access to your core.

“That’s better.”

His left forearm came across your chest, holding you against him while the fingers of his right hand glided through your folds. He spread your wetness over your skin before plunging his middle and index fingers directly back into your heat. “Pretty cunt’s so wet for me,” he teased, shifting his hips and pressing the tacky, velvety skin of his satisfied dick against your lower back.

“Hmmm, just sucking my fingers in, aren’t you?” Kakashi teased. “So eager. I’m starting to think you might like me, Y/N.”

You blushed, sure the color was spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and down to your toes.

“Is that right?” he mockingly cooed at you. “You have a crush on your Captain?”

With the merciless way his fingers were abusing your most sensitive spots, you couldn’t have answered even if you wanted to. Thankfully, Kakashi seemed more interested in dragging more broken whimpers from you than your confession. At least, not that confession.

“Tell me it feels good.” Kakashi groaned into your ear, rubbing tight circles behind your clit as the heel of his hand crashed against your swollen nub.

With a self-conscious whine, you dropped your head back onto Kakashi’s shoulder, grinding your hips into his hand. “Feels good…” you panted. “S-so good.”

You gripped onto his biceps as an anchor. The muscles were flexed and firm, his full strength keeping you plastered to his chest as he pumped his fingers in and out, scissoring them and stretching you to the point of tears again.

“Mmmm, filthy girl. Getting fingered by your Captain like a common whore. Making a mess.” Kakashi started pistoning his fingers faster and faster, obscene squelching noises coming from between your legs as your arousal slicked your entrance and his long digits. “But you love getting treated like a little slut, don't you? Love being my personal toy.”

Tightness built in your lower stomach, more insistent and urgent than you were used to. Mindlessly, you grabbed for his wrists and threw your hips forward, chasing the relief that was just out of reach while Kakashi continued to taunt you.

“You want more, yeah? Go on. Beg for it.”

“Please! Please, Captain…”

Kakashi forced a third finger in, his callused fingertips stimulating you from inside while he pressed the rough heel of his hand into your clit. “You wanna cream all over my hand, don't you? You want me to make you cum? Cum with three of my fingers stuffed in your pussy? Gods, you're such a fucking slut for me.”

You cried out, grinding against his coarse skin and feeling that tightness focus into one point of scalding pressure that suddenly released in a flood of endorphins. You came with a high-pitched squeal, your muscles clenching down as wetness gushed from between your legs. The sensation left your body sagging against him, boneless and docile.

Kakashi carefully pulled his hand away from you, showing you the shiny mess dripping along his forearm. “Dirty fucking girl.”

The orgasm had felt different, but…squirting?! You’d never done that before—you didn’t think you were actually capable of it. “I-I…”

He hooked his arms under your thighs and lifted you enough to maneuver his hips and position his—shockingly somehow even harder than before—fully erect cock between your legs. He spread your fluids over himself, making his cock shiny and slick before rubbing it against your sensitive sex. You squirmed, and he panted the most self-satisfied moan into your ear.

“Where d’ya think you're going?” he laughed, securing his left arm around your chest again. “You said you wanted to stay with me.”

“I do—”

He shut you up when his blunt cockhead barely pushed into your hole. “Then hold still and let me have my fun.”

“K-Kakashi…”

“C’mon,” he growled. “I’m your captain, and I’m telling you to take it.”

Kakashi’s cock bullied its way between your soft folds, filling you in one stroke. You moaned as he grabbed your hips and pulled you deeper onto him until your ass was pressed into his hip bones hard enough to leave imprints. He moved his right hand to rub the last of your fluids over your clit, circling it as he started sliding you up and down his shaft. Despite the fact that you just squirted all over his arm, having him inside you just felt so good, you instinctually rocked back and forth over him, searching for even more.

“There you go,” he smirked. “Now more. Bounce on it.”

He started running his hands all over you, first smacking your flank to speed you up, then grabbing at your thighs, your waist, finally gripping your breasts and squeezing as you found the strength in your legs to work yourself up and down his dick.

“Your perfect tits, fuck.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers and began slamming his hips upward to meet your warm, wet insides. “These are mine. All of this is mine.”

“Yes—” You panted, your tongue lolling out of your mouth at the euphoric feeling of being filled and toyed with by the only man who would ever make you feel this good. “Aah, more…more please…”

“That’s it baby. Moan at how good I make you feel. Moan loud enough that that asshole comes in here and gets a good view of you. Being so needy—ruining yourself on my dick, fuuuck.”

Kakashi planted his feet and started drilling into you, not giving you a chance to consider the consequences if you were to be caught. In fact, consequences be damned—the idea of getting caught riding your captain didn’t sound so bad at all.

“Aaaah…Kakashi!”

“Maaaa, I’ll let him see. I’ll let him get one good look so that he never forgets how gorgeous you look when you get fucked. And that he can never have it. Because I’m the one you want. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

“Yes—K-kashi…”

“Mmmm I can tell. Such a tight grip on my cock. Your greedy pussy doesn't want to let me go.” Kakashi put his hand under your navel and pressed, until the bulge of his cock stood out prominently against your stomach. “You feel how deep I am?” he grunted, thrusting away and rearranging your guts. “How deep inside you I am?”

“Fuck, yes…I’m gonna—”

“I know, Y/N. I wish I could show him how pretty you look when you come apart. I could let him watch, but that feels a little too much like sharing. And I don't share my fucking things.”

He drove his cock into you, offsetting your gasps and groans with the wet plap plap plap of his balls bouncing off the backs of your thighs.

“This little hole belongs to me. And anyone else who wants it is gonna have to stick to fucking their own hand. Because all of this is for me.”

“Kakashi!”

“I want you to cum. Wanna feel your pretty little cunt squeeze down on me.”

“Haa—ah!” You renewed your grip on him, holding on for dear life as another orgasm rushed its way through your nerves.

“Fuck, cum on my cock, Y/N.” He rubbed his coarse fingers over your clit again; no longer teasing but demanding. “Cum, now. I’m not gonna fucking tell you again.”

You tumbled over the edge, shouting praise and profanity like there was no one around for miles. But you just couldn’t help it. There was no feeling you could compare to the way Kakashi made you feel. Even as he kept pulling your body down onto his dick, bruising you from inside, using your trembling walls to find his own high, you only wanted more and more of him.

“Don't stop,” he panted. “Don't stop. Fuck you get so tight when you cum. Don't fucking stop.”

Suddenly, Kakashi adjusted his hold on you to push you down onto your stomach, ass in the air and cheek pressed into the bare floor. He climbed over you like an animal, spearing your stretched-out hole, pushing your gummy walls aside to accommodate him.

“Haaaaaa make your Captain cum. That’s a good girl. That's my good little cocksleeve.” He kept one hand on your hip, making sure you stayed propped up for him while his other held your face against the ground. “Oh you’re not going anywhere. You're gonna stay with me and take this cock whenever I tell you to.”

“Yes!! Captain!!”

The new angle let him reach even deeper, every inch of his cock burying itself in your quivering pussy. Every time he bottomed out, his balls swung forward and bounced off your clit. You could only hear his skin slapping against yours, his throaty groans, his desperate gasp when his cock started throbbing inside you. You moaned and whined beneath him as you prepared yourself for him to finish and fill you with another load.

He grasped you with both hands on your waist, turning and tossing you down on your back. He slid out of you in the process, and you mewled at the unexpected empty feeling. Instantly, he was hovering over you; leaning down with one arm rigidly propping him up and the other wrapped around his edged, impatient cock.

“Again—” he panted. “T-tell me you—hah…”

His dick was red and twitching in his grip. You weren’t sure exactly what he was asking you to say, but you were happy to take your best guess.

“I’m yours,” you whispered, reaching for him and wishing you could pull him down and kiss him. “I want to be yours. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Y/N—” Your name escaped his lips in a wavering sound that was probably mortifying for him, but to you, it was the greatest sound you’d ever heard. His eyes locked onto yours a second before he finished, tugging down so hard that the taut skin of his cockhead was impossibly shiny as he came. The first rope forced out with so much power that it reached as high as your chin, then splattered down over your clavicle and dripped between your tits. The next pulse was only a fraction weaker, leaving a gooey white stripe from your breastbone to your navel. His hand pumped a few more times to spill a thick pool of cum on your tummy.

He’d made an absolute, filthy mess of you. But you didn’t feel filthy. You felt sexy and ecstatic and satisfied and irresistible. And the look in Kakashi’s half-lidded eyes only sweetened the entire thing.

“There…” Kakashi exhaled as his eyes roamed over you, enjoying the view of your skin coated with his spend. “Now the only thing that asshole will smell on you is me.”

► masterlist

#kakashi x reader smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi smut #kakashi hatake smut #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi x y/n #kakashi fanfiction #anbu kakashi #the man the myth the menace #ao3 author #rookie wrote

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elbiotipo · 3 months

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What would be the main differences between a template forest and a tropical jungle for fantasy? I guess that things like iron armor pieces would never become a thing since historically they weren't popular in other hot climates, winters without snow might be less feared but summers with big floods might be more worrisome? I guess that cuisine and farming would also be massively different although I don't know exactly how.

Out of the top of my head:

Equatorial climates are notoriously stable, since it's always the same day lenght there are no seasons, especially if you live near the ocean which estabilizes the temperature. You will get dry and wet seasons (and sometimes even hurricane seasons) depending on particular geographic conditions

Tropical/subtropical climates often have harsher seasons the farther away from the ocean they are, but never snow (that's the difference actually; temperate climates can get snow, subtropical can get frost but not snow, tropical neither). So yes, in general in a tropical or subtropical the main difference between seasons is rain, and perhaps frost which does play a role in some plants like citrics. Rainforests, of course, get it all year, subtropical forests have dry and rainy seasons. You can see a mixture of both: in my home (Northern Argentina) we do get marked winters with ocassional frost, but the main fact is that they're dry compared to summer.

ANYWAYS. Cultural stuff! Yes, one of the main differences you will find is clothing. It's difficult to make generalizations, but overall, tropical cultures just wear less, if there is armor at all. Don't get mistaken and say that it's because they don't have metallurgy, though, it's just that metal armor is indeed heavy, hot, and not much use if the opponet isn't wearing anything either. At most, you would see padded cloth armor (cotton mostly) or hide/leather at most. If you look at soldiers from, for example, Mesoamerica or Southeast Asia, you will find little armor.

Similarily, while you can go wild with noble clothing and colors, and the preferred materials are indeed cotton or silk, you will find very simple clothes among the general population. To give you an idea, here's a sample of Aztec clothes (including armor!)

Note how simple and lightweight they are, even for rulers. They are colorful too (the artist, Daniel Parada, has more pictures like this for other cultures based on historical records) but although tropical enviroments might seem to have greater access to dyes, medieval european did also have dyes, often not as vibrant as carmine though.

Farming, of course, affects cuisine. I think that instead of thinking about a "pan-tropical" farming, we could analyze this by centers of origin of crops:

From Southeast Asia we got soy, several types of beans (or Fabaceae if you wanna get technical), all citrics, mango, banana, pear, cherry,, but this pales in comparison to rice, of course. Rice defines the tropical and subtropical diet of Asia, being what wheat is to the Mediterranean. Rice cultivation is particular in that is labor extensive, much more productive by area compared to other crops (so smaller plots) and requires extensive irrigation, resulting in complex managed enviroments.

From tropical America we got manioc, squashes (all sorts of curcubita actually), beans, peppers, pineapples, papaya, so much more, but it's especifically from Mesoamerica we got corn, and from the Andes we got potatoes. Potatoes are key in cold climates. Meanwhile, the corn-beans-squash trio, that is known in North America as "three sisters" and in Latin America as "milpa" is spread all over the continent. These three kinds of plants are very adaptable to tropical and subtropical conditions, and combined are very productive.

I will admit that my knowledge about tropical Africa is less than ideal. There are native species of rice that can be found in Western Africa, Ethiopia has traditionally grown barley and sorghum (and is the home of coffee), and millet, like corn for the Americas, seem to be widespread.

As for spices, tropical areas do seem to be blessed with spices, this is true. I recommend this guy to tell you about it. Hell, I recommend his channel in general.

What IS a common theme, regardless, is that jungles are NOT pristine enviroments or wild enviroments untouched by human activity. Jungles have been managed, in overt ways (like for example, rice cultivation) or more subtle ways (planting domesticated species inside the forest) for thousands of years. This is also done by controlled burns, conscious planting, or even accidental things, like, for example, peoples settling in a place and bringing domesticated plants to that place that then grow semi-wildly.

THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING TO TALK ABOUT BECAUSE EVEN IF I STUDY THIS EXACT THING, I HAVE NO REAL DEFINITION OF IT YOU CAN SEARCH. You can find about this phenomenon of "humans managing and changing forest enviroments" by lots of terms, like agroforestry, silviculture, and so many more. The term I use is "landscape management" (no, not "landscaping") where a "landscape" is a term for an enviroment were both humans and natural factors build it (like I said, there is no thing as "pristine nature" ALL natural enviroments have been managed and modified by humans, and you can find evidence of that in tropical America, Asia, and Africa).

In fact, the reason why those enviroments seem "natural" and unchanged to Western views is precisely, because tropical cultures often use wood and adobe to build structures (if they have them at all), which don'r preserve well at all. But also, jungles are fast growing and often eat everything, remaining, interestingly, these subtle domestication and managment efforts in what once were thriving settlements.

Which doesn't mean you haven't tropical cultures to study. THERE ARE PLENTY. You got, like I said, the whole of tropical America, tropical Africa, and tropical Asia and Oceania. It is getting very difficult to me to generalize, and yet, one can see some similarities.

Since this post is general enough, I encourage you to ask more about what you want. What would you like me to focus on?

oh, and you can throw me a tip, if you want! Sorry for selling out, but I'm living under an insane libertarian president right now, so every bit helps!

#worldbuilding #sorry this is such a rant #but I hope it might be useful for you to get questions I can answer better!

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moerusai · 4 months

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Do you think you'll feel comfortable posting your non-spolier thoughts on the movie? I hear Bas and Tong gave truly stand out performances.

Of course! It's a gorgeous movie that gets better with every rewatch. There is so much going on. Everybody is hiding something!

I don't think anyone is prepared to see Apo as Khem in his golden costume and koi eyeliner. Every time he appears on screen, I'm silently screaming into my fist. LOOK AT HIM I-

And, yes! I can attest that Tong and Bas are phenomenal. I think them and Khun Wichien's actor deserve nominations for Best Supporting Actors at all the awards.

And as I've said before, Mile's performance as Chat is something that makes every rewatch better. All those microexpressions are given a new meaning as you realize what he was concealing.

As a Southeast Asian, I was also incredibly proud to see elements of our shared culture represented in the movie. In fact, I meant to write a primer before you watch Man Suang about practices I recognized and have researched on, so everyone can appreciate them too 🥹.

GAH I'M JUST SO EXCITED TO FINALLY TALK ABOUT IT AND READ ALL THE META THAT'LL COME OUT. GOD I NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN. I NEED TO SEE CHAT HOLD KHEM'S WAIST AGAIN.

(oops that's a spoiler. but everyone knew about it so, lol)

#man suang #apo nattawin #mile phakphum #tong thanayut #bas asavapatr #anon I'm sorry it took me four months to answer this 😭#asks #mansuang

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ilikethisacompletelynormalamount · 1 month

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Since Andrew is taking some well deserved time away from the public at the moment, let's revisit (or visit for the first time, if you're new here) this stunning photoshoot from Mr. Porter, October 2019, when he was doing press for Modern Love and his Ripley casting had just been announced (yes, it's taken that long for it to come out).

Mr Andrew Scott’s big brown eyes are open wide in amused disbelief. “That was not an Irish accent,” he says in his musical Irish brogue. “That was a West Country accent.” How embarrassing for an interviewer who thought to connect with her subject by lightly mocking Mr Ed Sheeran’s – again – not-Irish accent in his cameo in Mr Scott’s episode of Amazon’s upcoming anthology series, Modern Love. Panic sets in. “It’s all right,” he says, soothingly. “It’s all right. Accents are such funny things.”

You know what else is a funny thing? Sitting with Fleabag’s “hot priest” – 2019’s most unexpected sex symbol – in a wine bar in Bermondsey, southeast London, talking about vulnerability, romcoms and love stories. Or, to take another angle: sitting across the table from the deranged Jim Moriarty and letting him pick out a rosé. That tickles, too. Having Hamlet express the need for a mini-break in, he doesn’t know, Copenhagen? Amsterdam, maybe? Surreal.

But actually, Mr Scott, who is wearing what can only be described as a modified sweatsuit (shorts and a zip-up sweatshirt, no shirt beneath) after our photoshoot isn’t funny funny. No, Mr Scott is serious: reserved and contemplative, but with the energy of a theatre nerd who, every once in a while, rests his head in his hands, cupping his fingers around his eyes to form blinkers while he thinks about a question you’ve just asked. In this quiet wine bar. He’s not an evil murderer, an agent of a shadowy organisation, or an overly excited (wink) cleric. He’s just a nice guy who sympathises about the difficulty of parsing the subtleties of the many accents in the British Commonwealth (and beyond).

Mr Scott is still hot off his run in Fleabag, even though the show ran from March to April of this year. A few weeks ago, he received a GQ Men of the Year Award, and just a few weeks after that, was in Los Angeles at the Emmy Awards where Fleabag cleaned up, winning three awards.

Of course, this is not Mr Scott’s big break. He’s been in the business since moving from Dublin to London 20 years ago to pursue acting. His dad worked in employment, helping young people find the right careers and his mother was an art teacher. “They were definitely into following your passion and doing that for the rest of your life,” he says. “Rather than, ‘You should be a lawyer,’ or whatever the fuck.”

And this has been a year for Mr Scott’s passions. Aside from Fleabag, and an episode of Black Mirror that landed on Netflix this June, he’s making a poignant appearance in the aforementioned _Modern Love,_ which will drop all at once on 18 October. A series of discreet episodes, each one features its own starry cast (Mr Dev Patel, Mr John Slattery, Ms Tina Fey, Ms Anne Hathaway and, of course, Mr Ed Sheeran, among others), based on the much-loved New York Times column from which it takes its name. Mr Scott’s episode, which co-stars Ms Olivia Cooke and Mr Brandon Kyle Goodman, is loosely based on an early column written by the sex-and-relationships writer Mr Dan Savage about the unusual experience he and his partner had with adoption. “It’s just a really sweet little story. It’s not about a romantic relationship,” he says, (many Modern Love entries are not). “It’s simply about the relationships between people.”

He’s also currently filming in Cardiff for the BBC TV series of His Dark Materials. And maybe there’s a Marvel movie in his future? “Oh, fuck. Completely false,” he says. “Someone said, ‘Are you going to be in a thing?’ I said, ‘No,’ and I said, ‘There have been discussions.’ And it’s like ‘Andrew Scott has been in discussions.’”

That’s what happens when suddenly everyone wants you – to use Twitter parlance – to run them over with your car. The Priest, unlike his other characters, was a sex symbol, one that wears the hell (forgive me, Father) out of a cassock. But who could be surprised that Mr Scott turned a priest into the “Hot Priest” simply by saying “kneel”? (If you don’t know what that means, stop reading now, watch the show, come back.) In fact, he has been making words positively drip with meaning for nearly a decade.

Consider Moriarty, the insane criminal puppet master Mr Scott played for six years across four seasons of the BBC’s Sherlock, opposite Mr Benedict Cumberbatch in the titular role. This particular Moriarty – Holmes’ famous nemesis, who has also been played by Messrs Orson Welles, John Huston and Sir Laurence Olivier – is indelible and utterly idiosyncratic. “If you’re going to do it, I don’t see there’s any point in doing it without putting your own stamp on it. I never look at any previous incarnations,” says Mr Scott. The result of this thinking – in Sherlock, at least – was a Moriarty who is all sing-song eeriness, molten physicality, and questionable cutaway collars. “He was quite theatrical; he was grotesque, sort of the archetypal villain,” he says. Archetypal, indeed: the role propelled him into the world of maniacal superfandom. He might not have received a dedicated stan nomenclature like his co-star (ahem, “Cumberbitches”), but the role made Mr Scott a household name.

Of course, establishing yourself as adept at playing evil incarnate probably leads to people wanting to cast you in more Moriarty-like roles. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yep, yeah,” he says, six times. “Yeah, exactly right,” (one more). “I turned down a lot. The shadow of that character took over for a little while.” The craze got to be so tiresome that he asked the interviewer for a recent profile in The Guardian not to ask him about Moriarty at all (two years after he last appeared in the series). But now he sees a bigger picture, understands how being the object of abject obsession can be a good thing. “I think to answer your questions,” he says, tapping his fingers on the table, “it’s been really good fun.”

Mr Scott demurs when asked what it’s like to be the quencher of many thirsts on the internet. “People don’t say that to me. People don’t say, ‘Oh my God...” He shakes his head and trails off, perhaps in horror of what fans could be saying to him. It’s a little hard to believe that he wouldn’t be mobbed as he walks down the street. After all, one major British publication declared that Fleabag and the Priest were the only couple worth talking or tweeting about this year. (We guess Meghan and Harry, and Kim and Kanye can relax.)

“If I’m honest, it’s only really just starting to dawn on me, the global effect the show has had. People like a bit of transgression, they just do.” Any follower of his career, though, understands that it’s more than just good writing that makes him so very watchable (though good writing, is, politely, what he puts it down to). His chemistry is electric with Ms Phoebe Waller-Bridge, as it was electric with Mr Cumberbatch, and palpable even if you weren’t lucky enough to catch his rendition of Hamlet and – like this interviewer – had to watch a clip on YouTube.

Mr Scott’s character, Tobin, in Modern Love is the most subdued we might ever see him. There’s very little shouting, and none of the wide-eyed glaring that has defined his roles to date. Instead, he plays sweetly, quietly off a tiny baby, and tells goodnight stories to an adorable little girl. Perhaps this is a harbinger of softer roles to come. “I’d love to be in a romcom,” he says. “I love watching people fall in love, and how mad it is.” And yet: it was just announced that he will be playing Tom Ripley in a new adaptation of The Talented Mr Ripley. So much for avoiding the nutters.

“What always amazes me is how innocent we are as human beings,” he says, sidestepping yet another probing question about being so irresistible right now. “We are very easily manipulated by stories. If someone puts scary music behind someone and they’re told this person’s eyes are absolutely terrifying, you go: ‘Oh my God, that person is scary, and his eyes totally freak me out.’”

“But then,” he continues, “[you’re told] ‘the priest is hot, wait till you see him’. And then you look at his eyes in a very different way and it’s the manipulation of the storytelling. It literally changes your character.” Hmmm.

“The success is the writing,” he tries, again, to argue. But it’s hard to be convinced that an actor who’s hopped from one iconic character to another is simply lucky with writing. He sees he’s not getting anywhere and changes tack. “Acting is just a way of experimenting with different parts of myself. Vulnerability is something I’m really, really interested in. I think vulnerability is at the centre of every character I’ve ever played even if they don’t appear or present as vulnerable.”

Throughout this conversation, his eyes have flicked around the bar, and he pauses from time to time to comment on the other patrons. At one point, a woman is coughing so vehemently, he stops mid-sentence to remark, humorously, on whether she might be dying. Now, he spots something on the bar. “Oh my God, she’s reading Brené Brown.” We both turn to stare at the book.

“She writes a lot about vulnerability,” he explains, excited. “[Being vulnerable] is how you get ahead. I really, really strongly believe that. [Vulnerability is] strong, it’s really strong.”

Perhaps this is the secret we’ve been trying to distil about his appeal: Mr Scott uses vulnerability to bring us all into a space of fear or sadness or lust or anger with him so that every character he plays – whether it’s the hottest priest in London, a gay man in Brooklyn trying to become a father, or a murderous villain – thrums with the heartbreak that comes with being human.

“The more I work,” he continues, “the more I just think every story is in some way concerned with love – or the lack of it.” He smiles an earnest little smile and we both know this is the place to stop. “That’s the way life is,” he says. “It’s so fast and furious.”

https://www.mrporter.com/en-hk/journal/fashion/the-softer-side-of-mr-andrew-scott-1052122

#andrew scott #fleabag #modern love #ripley #netflix ripley #mr porter #blast from the past

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ruibaozha · 5 months

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From what I understand, your advice is that we shouldn't stick to just one version of a story or consider it the true version. And that a story has several versions. And these versions do not make one less than the other. Like, we can choose one version of the story as long as we understand that there are more versions.

Hello!

Yes this is precisely it. It’s very easy to assume that one way a story is told is the only valid version, but it also neglects how it historically was shared and retold - regardless of if deities are involved. Of course people are allowed to express favoritism, myself having moved from Wuhan, I prefer Wuhanese storytelling.

Did you know there’s roughly 360 different types of regional Chinese Opera that coexist? And with such a large variation in a specific area of performing arts, there’s bound to be more variation in nearly anything else.

Myself and the study of Nezha/Nalakubara has led me down many many different rabbit holes into how he was spread across east and southeast Asia. He appears in India, China, Taiwan, Macau, Hong Kong, Japan, Korea, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Kazakhstan, Tibet, and very likely many other places I have yet to know. It would be very ignorant of me to assume the Chinese Daoist method of worship to be the only acceptable kind - and downright shameful to dismiss how other countries worship him.

It’s a lengthy answer, but I hope I was able to convey my feelings and personal thoughts properly.

#nezha #li nezha #lmk nezha #monkie kid nezha #nezha 2019 #the legend of nezha #nezha reborn #nezha lego monkie kid #third lotus prince #chinese religion #chinese mythology #chinese folklore #chinese literature #chinese opera #chinese culture #chinese dance #chinese history

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 1 month

Text

Covenant- Chapter 10

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire Fisher

Word count: 13k (prepare drinks and snackies as always)

Chapter warnings: I...I don't really have much for this one. It's 13k of Claire and Loki being horny on main for each other. Dirty talk, oral (f receiving), p in v, somewhat public sex (there are guards outside the room), with a sprinkling of domestic fluff and bickering.

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger @ladymischief11

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me! Buckle up gang :D

Read this fic on AO3.

“Alone at last, little wife.” Loki purred as the heavy door to his- their chambers closed behind them. Claire smiled over her shoulder at him, the feral look in his eyes sending a thrill up her spine.

“Without breaking the rules, you mean,” she laughed as he pulled her flush against his chest. She draped her arm over his as he buried his face in her hair, kissing at the hairline behind her ear. “You gonna show me around?” she asked, drumming her fingers on his metal vambrace.

“You want a tour?” he seemed surprised.

“Of course,” Claire replied. “After all, you got to see my living quarters. I’m curious.” she felt him exhale against her skin, and he released his hold on her.

“Very well,” he chuckled before gesturing to the room they stood in. “As you can see, this is the sitting room,” he indicated the plush couches in front of the fireplace. A healthy fire crackled in the grate, throwing dazzling light on the lavish dining table and chairs in the southeast corner. Claire could already imagine having intimate breakfasts there. Tall windows bracketed the fireplace, looking out onto the city below. Beyond the windows, Claire could make out a railing. “Whenever I- or we, rather- have guests, this is where we will meet with them.”

“Is there a balcony?”

“There is,” Loki replied. “Would you like to see it?” he purred in her ear.

“Yes please,” Claire grinned, enjoying the feel of his thumbs as they brushed the backs of her arms. “I’m sure you have an amazing view.”

“It is quite stunning,” Loki replied, taking her by the hand to lead her out onto the balcony. Claire leaned over the railing, drinking in the view. The city lay spread out far below, faint strains of music from the still on-going feast drifting up on the gentle breeze. Small dots of light twinkled in the city beyond like stars in the sky. The moon was almost full, shining down on the people below. “Are you pleased?” The touch at her waist was gentle, long fingers casting through her gown to the sensitive flesh beneath.

“It’s beautiful.”

“The balcony extends around this corner to the bed chamber,” Loki said. “Would you like to see it?”

“Is that the next stop on the tour?” Claire asked flirtatiously, turning to face him.

“It can be,” Loki smirked. “Unless of course, you have something else in mind. You did say you were debating.”

“Well,” Claire sighed, running her hands up his arms. “Look who paid attention.” Loki grinned as she linked her hands behind his neck.

“I must admit I’m curious how your thoughts align with mine.”

“Then lead the way,” Claire smiled. “Although…” she murmured, eyes glinting mischievously as she glanced at the wall beside the balcony door. “The wall looks nice. And since we already know you can pick me up...”

“I agree, but for the future, little wife, not tonight.”

“Aw,” Claire tutted. “Well that’s okay. I had other plans anyway.” she winked at him, giggling when he backed her against the wall and sealed his mouth to hers. Long fingers dug into her hips, bunching the smooth fabric at her waist so tight Claire feared it might rip. His ceremonial leathers creaked as she pulled him as close as possible.

Finally.

At long last they could act on the desire they’d held back for so many weeks. Teeth gnashed as Loki pressed against her from hip to shoulder, his large hand cupping her face as he kissed her possessively. Claire threaded her fingers in the hair at his nape, gasping into his mouth as he reached down and brought one of her thighs up and over his hip. His fingers explored beneath the fabric, marveling at the feel of her bare flesh as he opened her to him.

Loki growled deep in his throat as he dug his fingers into her thigh, the cool night air raising goosebumps on her bare flesh as he pressed against her intimately. Claire gasped at the feel of him, a thin beading of sweat gathering at her neck as Loki rolled his hips against her core.

“Loki-”

“Shall we go inside, little wife?”

“Yes please.” Claire pleaded, dotting the sharp line of his jaw with heated kisses.

“You don’t wish to continue the tour?” he pressed against her once again, grinning with delight when she whimpered and dug her little nails into him.

“Show me later,” she nipped the lobe of his ear, his leathers creaking as she tightened her grip. “Loki…”

“A poor husband I would be if I did not see to my wife’s needs,” he captured her lips in a dizzying kiss before hefting her into his arms. Claire wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her soft lips teasing at his collar as he carried her along the balcony to the double doors around the corner. Her deft fingers worked beneath his collar, and Loki staggered as she sucked a mark into the sensitive curve of his neck. “Let me walk, woman, or we won’t get far.”

“Walk faster then!” Claire protested, laughing when Loki pressed her against the wall once more. He sank his weight onto her, adoring the feel of her hands in his hair as he mapped her thighs with his hands. He groaned as chills ran down his spine, grabbing handfuls of her ass as she pulled him closer with her powerful thighs. One of her hands skimmed down between them and began working to open his trousers.

“Damn it-” she muttered when she couldn’t find the clasp. He was wearing too many clothes!

“What do you need, little wife?” Loki couldn’t help but tease her. He pressed a kiss against her neck, enjoying the way she trembled around him.

“Your dick,” Claire teased, rolling her hips against his and making him gasp. “Please.”

“I like hearing you beg for me,” Loki murmured, reaching for the door knob to let them inside. He held her against him with an arm around her waist and kicked the door shut behind them. “But you’ll need to wait just a little while longer.”

“Whyyyy?” Claire complained as he carried her further into the room. The massive bed took up a large part of the room, along with two armoires, and two room dividers. Claire spied her vanity tucked behind one of the dividers. A fireplace cast flickering shadows on everything, but Claire could also see two dark doors branching off of the room.

“Because…” Loki shuddered as sharp teeth clamped down on his pulse point, sending chills racing along his spine. “Such a menace,” he grunted as his wife’s luscious thighs squeezed his waist. Her eyes had become glazed with desire, the heat between her legs calling to him like a beacon. A lesser man would have given into temptation and thrown her on the bed by now. Her wicked mouth was trailing bites down to his collar bone, dissolving his restraint with each little nip. “We have-business to attend to-before we forget ourselves.” The bed was looking more tempting by the second.

“Right,” Claire pulled away slightly, her chest heaving as she tried to focus on not ripping Loki’s clothes to shreds. “How are we doing this?”

“I have several ideas, but please-” Loki pleaded, his hands curling into fists as he fought the urge to rip her dress clean off her delectable body. “You still wish for the contraceptive we discussed, yes?”

“For now, yes please.” Claire replied. “Do you need anything from me?”

“Not at all. It’s already completed,” Loki shook his head, a small smile flitting across his face. “It seems we were meant to continue the tour. I’ve just realized I forgot the vials in my study.”

“You have a study?” Claire asked. “You really are an old man.” she snickered, undeterred by the annoyed look Loki shot her.

“I shall not dignify that with a response.”

“Technically you just did,” Claire smiled as Loki clenched his jaw in frustration. “You like me. You said so.” Loki huffed, his green eyes rolling so forcefully Claire half expected them to pop out of his skull and roll away.

“This way, you absolute menace.” he replied, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he fought the smile that threatened. He led Claire out into the sitting room, opening another door to their right.

Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, an ornate wooden desk standing sentry in the center of the room. Two windows flanked a door immediately behind the desk, the balcony and railing visible in the moon light beyond. Loki crossed the room, pulling a small box from a high shelf. The golden box glowed in the dim fire light coming from the small fire burning in the fireplace, the delicate whorls of its design appearing to ripple as Loki opened the box and showed her the contents. Inside on the plush green velvet, lay two glass potion bottles- both small in size. One was tall and slender, the other bulbous with a slender neck. An eerie blue glow emanated from the bottles, not phasing Loki in the slightest as he handed her the bulbous bottle and took the slender one for himself.

“You made these?”

“I did,” Loki confirmed, fingers clasping hers as she turned the bottle this way and that. “You will need to drink it in its entirety. There may be some discomfort.”

“Will I die?”

“What?” Loki looked concerned. “No, of course not. You won’t be harmed at all, I swear it.”

“I was being sarcastic, mischief, it’s fine,” Claire downed the blue liquid in one gulp, grimacing as it fizzled and burned its way down her throat. Her throat burned like she’d swallowed freshly dispensed Coke, making her cough as the burn settled in her belly and made her eyes water. “See? No biggie.” she managed. “Why do you have one?”

“You thought I would put the onus solely on you?” Loki asked, one perfect brow castigating her. How he was able to convey so much in an eyebrow was annoying, honestly. Everything about the man was perfect.

“Um...yes?” Claire said, even as his perfect lips sealed around the bottle and its contents disappeared into his waiting mouth.

“Forgive the trite saying, but it does take two, yes?” Loki’s eye twitched as he fought a grimace. “Norns, I forgot how foul this tastes.”

“Well, yes, but...still unexpected. Male birth control is practically unheard of on Earth.”

“That defies logic. Men have the capability of impregnating-” Claire gagged, holding up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t say impregnating-”

“Well it’s true,” Loki shrugged. “It seems illogical, and frankly, idiotic, to prescribe birth control to women when they can only carry one pregnancy per year-” Loki paused. “Unless your species is more prolific than I’ve been led to believe.”

“No, no, you’re right,” Claire nodded, swallowing against the rising burn in her belly. “Twins are always a possibility, but that still only counts as one.”

“Oh gods, twins,” Loki paled, sitting on the edge of his desk. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about that for a while, but-” Claire blanched, his face paling. The burning was inching its way up Claire’s esophagus, and her concern was steadily growing. “Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Is it supposed to keep burning? It feels like heartburn but-” a loud burp escaped her, relieving the burning sensation in her throat only to cause a new burning in her cheeks. “Ugh, why does it taste like broccoli?!” Claire cringed, groaning as she shook her head. “This is probably the least attractive thing I could be doing- stop laughing!”

“I am sorry,” Loki didn’t sound sorry at all, the ass. “I am used to the odd side effects seidr can incur, but broccoli is new.”

“This isn’t how I thought this was going to go,” Claire found herself laughing despite her embarrassment. “Can I- I’d like to brush my teeth please. I am not kissing you with broccoli mouth.”

“Of course! Your things were brought over during the ceremony,” Loki said as he led Claire back to the expansive bedroom, showing her the armoire just inside the door. “This armoire is yours. All of your things are inside. Your toiletries will have already been placed in the en suite, through that door there.”

“Awesome. This is the easiest move I’ve ever had,” Claire joked, quickly searching out her things in the bathroom. She scrubbed her teeth clean quickly, glad to be rid of the odd burning. Hopefully no other weird side effects would crop up. “You’d better fucking work. We are not having any babies yet.” she poked at her lower belly with meaning. Not that she doubted Loki’s skill, but it never hurt to be too cautious right?

She left the bathroom, finding Loki waiting patiently.

“Do you feel better?” he asked. Claire nodded, fingers digging into his shoulders as Loki’s mouth latched onto her collarbone. His arms wrapped around her like a favorite blanket, warm and comforting and perfect. “Shall I help you select something for bed?” he murmured against her skin, making her knees weak as he sucked a mark at the hollow of her throat. Claire had worried the mood was spoiled by her broccoli burps, but found her desire returning twofold as his hand teased the small of her back.

“I- have something picked out already- hng-” Claire shuddered as his large hands clutched at her possessively, bunching the fabric of her dress at her hips as his mouth traveled down her chest to tease the valley between her breasts. Her pussy clenched in anticipation, soaking the already damp material of her panties. “Help me out of my dress?”

“I’d be delighted,” Strong arms lifted her, cradling her against his chest as her arms wound around his shoulders once more. He carried her behind one of the dividers, turning her before he set her on her feet so that her back pressed against his chest. “To think you have looked like this all day, and everyone deigned to keep you hidden from me. I should have them all flogged,” Loki groaned appreciatively as he watched his hands roam her figure in the mirror. His large hands squeezed her breasts before sinking down to her hips. Claire whimpered as his hands squeezed her flesh, sending a fresh wave of desire through her. His pupils were dilated, eyes flooded with desire for her. Loki unclasped her necklace and set it atop the vanity, breath warming her skin as he nosed at the newly exposed flesh. “These jewels suit you,” he murmured, lips once again exploring the sensitive expanse of her throat as her head fell back against his shoulder. One of his hands caressed the column of her neck as the other skimmed down the fabric of her dress. Claire cried out as his hand cupped her sex, the friction and tantalizing heat making her all but froth at the mouth. “You should always be adorned so. On my honor, you’ll want for nothing.” he promised, admiring the sight they made in the mirror as he pressed kisses along her neck. She shivered in his grip, making him smile.

“I don’t need jewels,” Claire mewled, her body arching into his touch. “Just need you.”

“You have me, little wife,” Loki pledged. “Shall I leave you to dress?”

“You haven’t undressed me yet,” Claire sassed him. “Care to fix that?”

“You’re right,” Loki smiled. “Allow me.”

“O-okay,” Claire managed. Her head was still spinning like a top. Loki chuckled as he helped her balance, sinking down to gather the hem of her dress in his hands. Slowly, gently, he brought the material up her body, savoring every dip and curve of her form as his hands traveled up her legs to her hips, her chest, and finally up and over her shoulders. Claire shivered as the cool air met her exposed flesh, goosebumps erupting in the absence of fabric and Loki’s hands. The chill was short lived, as Loki let her dress fall from his hands and pulled her against him, heat from his body seeping into her as his eyes roamed her exposed flesh with a fervor that made her heart skip a beat. Fingers dug into her hips greedily, thumbs mapping the hollows of her hips as his mouth traced her collar bone.

“You are stunning.”

“And you’re overdressed.” Claire murmured as Loki captured her lips.

“So I am.” Loki’s breath warmed her skin as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent as his fingers teased along her lower back. Her hands found the release on his epaulets, sending his cape cascading to the floor behind them. Her nimble fingers brushed his hair back when it fell in his face.

“What happened to your helmet?” In between their second and third dance, the golden horns had disappeared.

“Astrid will have collected it and sent it to be polished,” Loki murmured, pleasant shivers coursing down his spine as her fingers teased the hairs at the back of his neck. “Why do you ask?”

“I think the horns are sexy. They seem like they’d make great hand holds.” Loki’s stomach clenched as Claire winked at him. Impatience growing, Loki undid the strap over his chest and let it fall to the floor.

“We shall have to test that theory.” he said as he shrugged off his overcoat and let it fall as well, the butter soft leather hissing as it pooled at their feet.

“I’ve always wondered what this is for.” Claire muttered, running a finger along the gold swoop on his chest.

“It is meant to protect my heart,” Loki explained. “It unclasps here,” he showed her the discreet fastenings at the shoulders of his leather tunic. “The tunic unlaces on the sides.”

“Oooo let me?” Claire asked, reaching for the tight lacing on the side closest to her.

“Of course,” Claire stepped closer, her fingers making quick work of the lacing that bound him. It fit him snugly, as did everything he wore. Claire couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of the garment, eyes traveling along the stitching as her fingers worked. Unable to resist touching him any longer, Claire slipped her hand in the space created between the leather and fabric. Loki was silent as she leaned against him, letting her explore the dips and peaks of muscle with her hand. A breathless gasp escaped him as her fingers teased along the rise of his pants, and a smile bloomed when he glanced at her with hunger. As much as she wished to explore further, she slowed. He was still far too dressed. “Would you prefer I walk in front of you? You didn’t like it when I walked up behind you earlier.”

Loki was surprised by the question. No one ever asked him such things.

“Please.” Claire crossed to his other side without a word, unlacing the other side of his leather tunic quickly.

“I’m guessing this goes over your head?”

“It does.”

“Alright, handsome, arms up,” Claire lifted the tunic over his head, the firm leather creaking as she set it to the side. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.”

“What comes next?”

“Who,” Loki corrected, grinning when she scrunched her face in confusion. He licked at her lips, swallowing her confused ‘huh?’ as his fingertips dug into her soft skin. He dropped the kiss, dipping his face into the full swell of her breasts and sucking mouthfuls of each between his teeth. He eased himself to the floor, digits trailing along her flesh in tender worship. The fingers she’d settled on his shoulders twitched, quiet moans escaping her as he placed light, teasing kisses just above her panty line. “Your question should be: ‘who comes next’. And the answer is: you.”

Deft fingers inched between her thighs, setting her nerves ablaze through the thin material of her panties. The hand on her hip grazed over the inked whorls of her tattoo as he held her steady, clearly curious but singularly focused on his task.

His fingers swept her panties to the side, exploring her wet heat with practiced ease and making her breath catch in her throat. Her clit bloomed under his touch, demanding attention. Claire relaxed in his grip as his hand moved deeper between her thighs, her feet shuffling apart to allow his better access as he teased her flesh with kisses. His long fingers sank deep into her channel, deep-rooted pleasure electrifying her as he began to stroke her inner walls, stealing her breath and making her clamp down on his shoulder for a semblance of control.

“Loki-” His breathless chuckle against her belly told her he’d heard her pathetic mewl, and another finger joined the first. Her head fell back, the sight of her her heaving chest giving Loki a delightful view when he glanced up to see her overwhelmed with pleasure. A slight adjustment exposed her pussy to his gaze, and gods, she was everything he could have hoped for. “Please…”

“Please what, little wife?” he asked, knowing full well what the beauty in his grasp wanted, and that he’d give it to her, along with anything else she desired. “You want my mouth on you? Or perhaps you wish to stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare-fuck!” she trailed off in a breathless moan as he latched onto her clit, lavishing the delicate bud with a swirl of his tongue. He growled as her fingers buried in his hair, pulling him even closer as he found the most sensitive spot deep inside her. “Oh my god!” she gasped, her thighs trembling as he took her apart.

Yes, He praised as she gushed around his fingers. Come for your god and make me yours.

“I can’t- Loki!” Claire warned, her legs quickly losing their ability to hold her upright.

“I meant what I said-” Loki’s arm shifted, circling her waist to keep her upright as she slumped against him. “I will not let you fall.” Her nails dug into his shoulder as his thumb circled her clit once more, making her twitch in his grasp. She muttered something unintelligible, the fingers still buried in his hair grabbing a fistful as her glazed eyes met his. “What were you planning to wear to bed?”

“It’s a sur-priiiiisedon’tdothat!” Claire twisted in his arms as his fingers trailed up her spine, her oversensitive nerves protesting the light touch. Loki’s hand withdrew instantly, coming to rest at her elbows.

“Do you wish to stop?”

“Nooooo,” Claire whined. “Just really sensitive. Need...five minutes…” Loki grinned indulgently, his eyes going soft at her pleas.

“Very well, little wife. I will leave you to put on your surprise.” his eyes roved over her form hungrily before he stepped away, disappearing from her view with a satisfied strut.

Loki: 1, Claire: 0

Getting dressed on shaky legs proved a difficult challenge. Claire learned she needed extra support in order to step into the bottom half of her ensemble, and moving her head too quickly brought her dizziness back in full force.

She managed to get dressed, stealing out from behind the divider and making her way to the sprawling bed with shaky legs. She could make out the sounds of Loki getting changed in his private dressing area. As she climbed onto the bed to wait, she couldn’t help but wonder what Asgardian pajamas looked like.

~~~~

He could still taste her on his tongue. Her needy cries, the way she’d clung to him…

He was desperate for more.

He left his discarded clothing in heaps on the floor, uncaring for once about tidiness. As he selected his night clothes he heard Claire settle on his bed and hurried his movements, eager to taste her again. A flick of his wrist brought the fire back to life, casting long shadows upon the walls as he stepped out from behind the partition.

And what a sight greeted him. Claire knelt on the large bed, hands on her thighs as she waited for him.

“Hey mischief.” she said softly, a catlike grin lighting her face.

“Hello menace,” Loki returned the smile, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed. “What is this?”

“Part two of my super secret plan to seduce you. What do you think?” she held her arms out to sides, allowing him to inspect her. Sheer black leggings covered her legs from ankle to thigh, with a gap before the undergarments around her waist and hips. A halter style top adorned her chest, with a low cut neckline that let him see the tattoo between her breasts. Fabric covered her arms as well, from her biceps to her wrists. Loki was intrigued to see loops of the fabric around her middle fingers, accenting the new wedding ring on her left hand. The black sheer fabric lent her skin a warm glow in the firelight, tantalizing him with hints at what he knew he would find underneath.

“It suits you,” he purred. “Although I despise it on principle for hiding your body from me.”

“Not hiding- enhancing,” Claire corrected, grinning wolfishly. “You said you wondered how my thoughts aligned with yours.”

“I did indeed.” the dark rumble of his voice sent shivers down Claire’s spine.

“I’ve decided I’d like to play a game.”

“You wish to play a game?”

“Yep.”

“Now?” Loki balked.

“Mm-hmm.” Loki’s eyes lingered on the swell of her breasts, the way the black fabric clung to her thighs and hips like a lover’s grasp. He burned with desire at the sight- his fingers itched to trail down her soft skin to explore her hidden depths more thoroughly. But...he’d waited this long- what was a little while longer?

“Very well, little wife, what shall we play?”

“About that,” Claire squirmed with excitement, and Loki had a passing thought that she meant to pull out Monopoly. Surely she wouldn’t- how could she expect him to focus on strategy with so much luscious skin on display? “I want the rematch you promised me.”

“Now?” he found himself repeating.

“Yes,” Claire grinned, “But there are rules- sexy rules.” Loki huffed in chagrin, throwing up his hands in defeat when she did not concede.

“I’m listening.”

“Every time you pin me, you get to remove one piece of this,” she held her arms out again, accentuating the gesture with a roll of her hips. “Every time I pin you, I get to remove one piece of clothing from you.”

“You’ll yield again, little wife.” dark promise dripped from each guttural syllable, and Claire’s pussy throbbed impatiently.

“Since you’re so confident…” Claire bit her lower lip as she gazed up at him with anticipation. “You should give me an advantage.”

“Oh, I like this,” Loki chuckled darkly, pulling his under shirt over his head and mussing his hair. “Satisfied?” the garment fell to the floor in a heap

“Not yet,” Claire grinned. “C’mere.” Loki knelt on the bed in front of her, body poised to attack.

“A moment, please,” he asked, large hands cupping her face to press a toe-curling kiss to her lips. He pressed against her deliciously, his body heat seeping through the thin material as she trailed her hands up his thighs to tug at his hips. Claire rose up on her knees, hands mapping the defined muscles of his back as his slow, deliberate kisses made her dizzy. Loki released her, his thumb caressing her lower lip gently. “I have wanted to do that since you walked into the temple,” he confessed. “Now we may play your game.”

“And here I thought you were trying to distract me,” Claire smiled. “Trying to lull me into a false sense of security so you could stab me in the back.” she snickered.

“That’s such a boring form of betrayal,” Loki said gruffly as he trailed his hands over the dips and curves of her body. “I’d never stab anyone in the back. I would simply-” his hands clasped around her thighs, and quick like a viper, he pulled her legs out from under her and sent her sprawling onto the bed. Claire’s breath escaped her with a quick oof and before she could fight back, he’d pinned her to the bed. “Lay them flat upon it.”

“Shit.” Loki laughed heartily as Claire realized her miscalculation.

“What’s happened, menace? Your carefully calculated plan hasn’t worked?” he asked, his smile splitting his face as he fingered the edge of fabric covering her arm. “I’ll take my trophy now, if you please.” Claire clicked her tongue in annoyance.

“Oh fine,” she grumbled. “Can we adjust real quick?” she asked, moving her legs to wrap around his waist when he lifted off of her. “Thanks.” she murmured as he pulled the fabric from her arms and tossed it aside.

“Of course,” Loki muttered under his breath when his eyes landed on her bicep tattoo. “’I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep’- what is your obsession with Robert Frost?”

“It’s motivating!” Claire protested, fingering the lines of text on her arm. The line, from the famous poem Stopping by Dark Woods at Midnight, had struck a deep chord in Claire at a young age. After her mothers death, she had wanted to give up. But the burning need to bring her mother’s killer to justice pushed her to keep going on her darkest days.

“If you insist,” Loki replied with a shake of his head. “What now, little wife? Do we need to reset?”

“No need,” Claire grinned, turning him onto his back with a quick maneuver and lowering herself onto his lap, directly over his groin. A choked gasp escaped Loki as she ground her barely dressed center on the hardened length inside his pants. “Doin’ okay there, mischief?”

“Gods, you are such a menace,” Loki grunted through clenched teeth, grinding his hips upward as he chased sweet friction. “Though I can hardly-unf- complain.” his fingers dug into her hips, promising marks to delight her for days to come. Claire ran her hands up his chest, settling her weight above him.

“I win.” she said smugly. Loki chuckled, wrapping his arms around her back.

“How about a draw?” he tugged the sheer top over her head, leaving her bare from the waist up. Above him, Claire gasped dramatically.

“You cheated!” Loki mimicked her gasp, rolling them over to tuck her into his side.

“God of mischief!” Claire couldn’t even be mad at him, because he distracted her with a burning kiss. “I could kiss you for an age,” his velvety voice rumbled deep within his chest, raising goosebumps along Claire’s neck and arms as he mouthed a line of kisses down her throat. His large hands clutched at her sides, long fingers digging into her ribs as he explored her soft skin. Claire dug her fingers into the meat of his shoulders, sighing as his kisses bloomed heat across her chest. Claire decided she enjoyed Loki’s kisses- he mapped her skin like a foreign soil, his lips and tongue calling her desire forth from its slumber as her skin warmed. They were just as she’d hoped, as focused and intense as he was in other areas, and her clit bloomed with promise. Loki palmed her breast, melting Claire’s core and sending a pulse of desire through her body. He paused, pulling back slightly to inspect her nipple, frowning slightly in confusion at the little silver balls he saw there.. “Is this- is this metal?”

“Oh yeah,” Claire laughed. “Surprise, my nipnops are pierced.”

“I…have never seen anything like this in all my life,” Loki admitted, exploring her tender flesh with his thumb. “Is this a custom on Midgard?”

“I guess?” Claire replied, arching her back to press her breasts further into his hands. “Lots of people have piercings but it’s not like a right of passage. It’s-ah-personal preference.”

“How in the nine did I miss these last night?” Loki murmured to himself as he rubbed gentle circles over her delicate nubs with his thumb. “Fascinating.”

“To be fair, you were kinda distracted,” Claire offered, enjoying the pleasurable shivers his actions were sending up her spine. “You know, it’s super fun when hot guys put them in their mouth.”

“Is that so?” Claire whimpered a confirmation as he did as she asked, her hands tightening around his shoulders. Her hands slid down his arms, grasping his biceps as he lowered her back onto the pillows. She welcomed his weight as he continued his exploration of her nipples, his tongue navigating around her piercings with delightful precision. She brushed his long dark hair out of the way as he released her nipple with a wet pop. “Are there any more piercings I should know about?” he asked as his long fingers played with the metal balls.

“It’s no fun if I tell you.” Claire teased. Loki chuckled, pinching her taut nipple between his fingers and making her gasp.

“I suppose it’s not,” he mused. “Though I can only imagine where I might find it if I do.”

“You’re a smart man,” Claire panted, writhing as his fingers tightened. “I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Indeed,” Loki purred, leaving heated trails on her flesh as his hands moved lower. “But first I wish to inspect this,” His warm hands grasped her hips, turning her so he could see the tattoo that graced her hip and thigh. “This drawing-” Claire bit her lip as he tugged the material at her hips clean off. Loki hummed, tracing the delicate, tiny leaves at the top of her tattoo with his fingertip, seemingly unaware that she was in danger of creating a puddle on the bed sheets. “This flower…it does not come off?”

“No, it’s permanent.”

“What sort of ink is permanent?” Loki murmured, following the whorls of the design with his fingers and making Claire’s brain short circuit. Her clit was throbbing with need under his prolonged attention, and she was starting to feel impatient.

“It gets injected under the skin. We have special artists-” Claire whimpered as his large hand clamped around her hip, kneading the flesh appreciatively. “We go to that draw on our skin with a needle.”

“And this is done willingly?” Claire nodded.

“It can take a while, too. Large pieces like mine usually take several hours. Mine took six hours total- two for the line work and then four more for the color.”

“I would not have guessed mortals were capable of withstanding such torture.” Loki mused, manipulating her skin to move the flowers as he drank in the sight of her tattoo. “You are full of surprises, little wife.”

“I try. But it’s not that painful- some places hurt worse than others, but it’s kinda nice, actually.”

“Nice,” Loki scoffed to himself. “I see,” he muttered, tracing his fingertips over her satin panties to the lower edge of her tattoo at the top of her thigh. “The detail is exquisite, I must admit. My scars look nothing like this.”

“Yeah, the artist I went to is very talented- wait, your scars?” Claire lifted her head to ask. Loki put a large hand between her breasts, urging her to lay back down.

“It is irrelevant,” he waved her concerns off, trailing his hand down her smooth skin and setting her nerves on fire. His finger hooked on the material on her thighs, giving them a gentle tug and making her pussy clench with anticipation. “These are impeding my appreciation of your body, little wife. May I remove them?” Claire opened her legs, letting him slip the flimsy material down her thighs. The drag of the material combined with his fingers had Claire biting her lip, a delighted sigh escaping her as his mouth began to explore the revealed flesh. His lips resumed their work from earlier, heated breaths warming her skin as he held her to him with strong hands. Claire felt her body going lax under his attentions, her core growing slick with need as he pressed hot kisses to the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

The first touch of his fingers to her sex was like a jolt of electricity, making her restless and impatient. It had been so long since she’d been intimate with anyone; she was half expecting Loki to complain about finding cobwebs between her folds. Claire was woman enough to admit she’d been thinking what it would be like to feel those gorgeous hands of his on her, specifically his long slender fingers in her pussy.

“No more metal?” her husband remarked, a hint of a smirk coloring his velvety voice. “I am almost disappointed.”

“I’ll admit I thought about it,” Claire managed to say as his thumb made lazy circles on her clit. “Supposedly it makes orgasms feel even better.”

“That is a delightful thought,” Loki said coolly, as if he wasn’t driving her mad with his finger teasing her folds. “One we can discuss further at another time. No more thoughts tonight, little wife.” he slipped a finger inside her slick channel, eyes going dark with desire as she moaned. Her hands dug into the sheets as he pleasured her, hips squirming as her body begged for more.

His lips closed around her clit as a second finger joined the first, and Claire stopped thinking. His broad shoulders rasped delightfully against her inner thighs as he settled on his stomach, wrapping an arm around her thigh as he pressed open mouthed kisses to her sex. Her thighs squeezed his body, feet bracketing his ribs as waves of pleasure wracked her body. Loki grinned as her desperate sounds reached his ears, his other hand holding her in place as she pleaded for more. Her delightful gasps and moans turned into breathless wails as her orgasm approached.

“Oh fuck-” Claire gasped, fingers closing around a fistful of Loki’s hair as her body wound tight. Loki’s eyes flitted up to see a delightful sight: Claire’s face was flushed, bottom lip drawn between her teeth as her hands grasped her breasts. Chest filled with pride, Loki sealed his lips around her clit and pumped her sex faster. “Loki!” the needful cry of his name had him grinding his cock on the bed. He groaned as her release soaked his chin, burning with the desire to seat himself inside her and make it happen again.

He worked her through her orgasm, waiting for her trembling to subside before sliding his body up and over hers. He shed his pants quickly, kicking them aside before returning to Claire’s side. Her flushed skin had pebbled over and she was beginning to tremble more from cold than his touch.

“Forgive me if i seem impatient, little wife,” Loki murmured against her skin as she curled around him seeking warmth. “I have thought of little else but burying myself in your cunt since your delightful display last night,” Claire had lost the ability to form words after her second orgasm, able only to offer a choked moan in response. “Has it been on your mind as well?” He asked as he palmed himself, smiling knowingly when her fingers dug into the plush blanket beneath them. His long fingers pumped the column of flesh between his legs leisurely, green eyes traversing the length of her sprawled body hungrily.

His cock sat heavy between them on her belly, and he hissed as her dainty hand closed around it. Just the feel of it in her hand made Claire's mouth water.

“Impressive.” Claire murmured, tugging him down to her level by the nape as he sank his fingers inside her aching pussy.

“It’s all for you, little wife.” he managed as she worked him in time with his hand. His fingers found the secret spot deep within her and she gushed again, thighs quaking around him as she mewled.

“I feared you would be a bore, but imagine my surprise-” Loki grunted, taking his lip between his teeth as she circled the tip of his cock with her thumb. “You are intriguing-and beautiful-” another grunt as she squeezed him. “And you are merciless with a blade,” he gasped as he captured her lips. Breathless gasps filled the space between them as they clung to each other and sought revelation. “Are you ready, little wife?” Claire whimpered below him, gyrating her hips in desperate search of friction. “Say it.” Loki pleaded breathlessly as he settled between her thighs.

“Give,” Claire beckoned to him with grabby hands. “Please.”

“Surely you can do better than that.” Loki chuckled, taunting her with a slow drag of his hips.

“Give me a break,” Claire fought a shiver as her sweat began to cool without him next to her. “You broke my brain.”

“Have I?” Loki shifted again, making her whine. “How rude of me.” Good god, his cock was impressive. Long, thick, and heavy, it nearly reached her belly button. Loki shifted, his heated skin rubbing against the senstive inner thighs as he pressed as close to her as he could.

What do you know? It did reach.

“Quit teasing. You've been eye-fucking me for days.” Loki withdrew his fingers, leaving her empty as she trembled. He reached up to pluck at her pebbled nipples as he lined up his cock with her entrance.

“So I have.” Loki took his cock in hand again, teasing her soaked entrance with the tip to coat himself in her wetness. One hand closed around her thigh, making Claire shiver as the head of his cock slipped inside her. His thumb still toyed with her clit, keeping her right on the precipice as he worked himself deeper.

“Stop fucking teasing me, I swear to god-fuck!” Claire spilled over the edge, her back bowing as she trembled through the onslaught of pleasure. Deep in the throes of her orgasm, Claire tugged at Loki with desperation and he obliged, seating himself fully inside her and making her eyes roll back.

Long and thick, Loki’s cock was perfect- as if handcrafted by master craftsmen in the art of female pleasure. She felt so full; each careful thrust threatened to make her eyes roll back in her head. Loki grabbed her hips and pulled her closer, opening her thighs further to press even deeper. Flesh met flesh and Loki groaned, leaning over to capture Claire’s lips with his own. Claire whimpered into his mouth as her walls clenched around him. His weight pressed her into the soft bed as his strong arms caged her in, breathless kisses collecting her sighs like tokens with each thrust of his hips. All Claire could do was hold on.

She’d thought about this a lot in the recent weeks- the decadent slide of Loki’s skin on hers, the overwhelming pleasure as Loki’s cock worked in and out of her weeping sex- but her imagination fell flat as every nerve in her body flared to life under Loki’s skilled hands.

Her fingers wrapped around the thick muscles of his biceps, enjoying the way they flexed as he moved. His long hair swayed as he moved, eyes closed as he groaned appreciatively and buried his face in her neck, pressing heated kisses to the skin there. Her silken pussy was so tight and welcoming, and if Loki had his way, he would spent an eternity between her thighs. Loki kissed her ravenously, looping one of her legs over his arm and hiking it higher. Claire brushed his hair back, anchoring his mouth to hers as he brought her close to orgasm again.

Holy fuck, she could get used to this. If this was her marital duties, it would not be a hardship.

“Enjoying yourself?” Loki asked, sounding slightly winded. Claire wasn’t able to form a response, as he timed his question with a slow drag of his hips. Claire brought his mouth back to hers, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Christ, the strength of him. “Come for me again, little wife.” he pleaded against her mouth, enjoying the sting of her nails in his flesh as she fell apart around him.

Loki ran his hands down her delectable curves, lifting her bottom half and squeezing her thick thighs together before slipping back inside her. Claire spasmed around him, her hands grasping at his thighs as her breasts bounced with each thrust of his hips.

“Oh fuck- oh, you’re so deep-” Claire panted, her legs trembling in Loki’s grasp. Loki groaned, throwing his head back as he bottomed out. The wet slap of skin filled the room as he fucked her with abandon, the pair of them submitting to pure animal instinct as they chased the end.

They worked together in perfect harmony, hands grasping flushed skin and sweat mingling as heated words and kisses were exchanged.

Claire thought she might explode at any moment. Loki surprised her by pulling out, leaving her empty and desperate with need. She moaned as Loki pushed her knees toward her chest, legs high in the air as he slipped his cock back between her folds. He teased her with small thrusts, caressing her labia and clit with his cock. Claire squealed when he finally slid back inside, chills creeping down her spine as the head of his cock struck her g-spot, the veins and ridges of his perfect cock hitting every sweet spot inside her.

“Oh god-” Claire sobbed as Loki’s targeted thrusts inched her toward the finish line.

“Yes,” Loki groaned, grinding his pelvis against hers. “Uh...du føler deg...så bra.”

“Fuck…” Claire whimpered as he thrust again, sending a shock wave through her body. “Yes- right there!” she gasped, clinging to him for dear life as he hit her g-spot again and again. Above her Loki was panting hard as he chased his end, his breathless grunts primal as he drove deep inside her. Claire snaked her hand between their bodies, her clit throbbing as she worked herself to completion.

“Uhgh- gods, yes!” Loki gasped as he burst, Claire’s orgasm triggering his own. Her fluttering walls clenched so tight Loki saw stars, her silken muscles wringing every last drop of his spend from him. Loki felt as though the breath had been driven from his body, his lungs burning as his higher brain came back online. Claire was still spasming around him, the tight heat of her slick channel rippling with each ragged breath she drew. “Are you alright?” Eyes still closed, Claire nodded, her wild hair fanned out like a halo on the pillows.

Loki pulled out slowly, releasing her legs from their contorted position. He dotted a kiss to the inside of her knee as he massaged her thigh. Though she’d clearly enjoyed herself, he worried he may have been a bit overzealous.

“You don’t have to do that.” Claire murmured, one tired eye cracking open to peer up at him.

“Simply a precaution,” he replied absently, releasing one leg to massage the other. Claire watched on in a daze, exhaustion from the day and several great orgasms catching up with her. Loki watched her chest rise and fall as she lay comfortably among the pillows, blue eyes drooping and unfocused as she fought sleep. A small smile played at his lips as he reached for the blankets to cover her up. A pearl of his spend glistened upon Claire’s sex, and Loki abandoned the blankets to brush his thumb through the mess. “You make a beautiful sight, little wife,” Claire jerked when he thumbed her clit, a breathless gasp escaping her kiss-swollen lips as her tired body perked up at the promise of added pleasure. “Forgive me, I could not resist.”

“S’okay,” Claire murmured. “Wanna be the big spoon?” Claire asked as Loki brought the covers up around them.

“Pardon?” Loki looked up at her as though she’d grown a second head.

“C’mere,” Claire chuckled. She turned away from him to lay on her side, and tugged him closer so that he lay directly behind her. “Like this.”

“Ah, I see,” Loki said as he slid his arm around her middle, holding her solidly against him. Fuck, being caged in by all that muscle was nice. “I think in this instance you would be the tea spoon and I am the soup spoon.” he remarked, making Claire laugh.

“Something like that,” she nestled deeper under the covers, enjoying the warmth and feel of his soft skin against hers. “It’s been a while since I’ve cuddled with anyone. It’s nice.”

“It is.” Loki said softly behind her.

“Been a while for you too?” Claire guessed. Loki shifted, his thigh pressing against the back of hers.

“Most of my bed partners did not wish to stay, or I did not wish them to stay,” his hand settled on the swell of her hip, kneading the soft flesh. “I could not say when this happened last.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Claire sighed as his hand wrapped around her middle again. His breath teased the back of her neck, the steady pace of his breathing comforting as he held her.

“How are you feeling?” Loki asked, studying the rise and fall of her shoulder as she breathed. It still felt surreal to be with her, without worry of being discovered. Her skin was soft and supple against his, and her decadent perfume still lingered. He already held such affection for her.

“Good,” Claire chuckled as he squeezed her gently. “Sore, but good,” Loki hummed behind her, his breathing beginning to even out. “Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“You surprised me too,” Claire murmured. “People kept warning me about you. I’m glad they were wrong.” Oh.

“Thank you.” Loki wanted to say more, but his throat was oddly...tight?

“You know, it’s kinda funny...women back home complain about how awful their husbands are, especially when they’re pregnant, but I have a feeling you’ll be great.”

“Men on Midgard truly have no idea how to treat women, do they?”

“Nah, they suck.”

“Things are different here,” Loki rose up on his elbow. “Here, men- or the decent ones, at least- respect women. I understand you have concerns about-”

“A lot of things-”

“Yes, and I can appreciate that. But the social contract is different here. The men protect, and provide, and women-”

“Have the babies.” Loki huffed a laugh; he could practically see her roll her eyes.

“Obviously, little wife,” he chuckled. “But it’s more than that. Here, women are respected for their ability to bring life into the world. Without you, there is no future.”

“God damn right there’s no future,” Claire grumbled, making Loki laugh louder. “That sounds...not so bad.”

“Get some rest, little wife. When we decide the time is right, I will look after you.” Loki settled back into the pillows, grinning when she rolled over to cuddle with him. She hitched one leg over his, hugging him with one arm as she rested her head on his chest.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she murmured, glancing up at him as he wrapped his arm around her. “Good night.” she let her tired eyes fall closed and wiggled closer. She could hear his heartbeat now, and his body heat was soothing. So comfy...

“Good night.” The excitement of the day (and night) caught up with Loki, and he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

~~~~

Loki wasn’t sure how long he slept, but he came awake when he felt Claire stirring beside him. Loki was a light sleeper to begin with, and having a new person (however welcome) in his bed was going to take some getting used to.

In the dim light remaining from the fireplace, he saw Claire’s form as she got to her feet.

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern when several of her joints popped.

“Yeah I'm okay,” Claire chuckled as she rummaged in the dark for clothing. “It was just my hip.”

“Are you certain?” Claire laughed quietly as she pulled a night dress from her armoire. Claire laughed as she slipped the night dress over her head.

“My guy, you literally bent me in half, my joints are gonna make some noise,” she tugged the fabric down over her hips as she yawned. “I promise I'm fine. Did I wake you?”

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“I am not,” Claire chuckled. “Usually once I’m out, I’m out, but I'm kinda hungry. Can we go get a snack?”

“Of course,” Loki got out of bed and pulled a pair of loose pants up over his hips. “We can have Astrid bring something.”

“Oh no, that's okay. What I want is really easy and I can make it myself. Can you show me where the kitchen is?”

“You wish to make it yourself?” Loki asked skeptically.

“Yeah, it's just toast. I don't want to wake someone up to make it for me. Please?” Though he was still confused, Loki relented and pulled on a loose pair of pants and a tunic. He helped Claire find her slippers before stepping into his own, and they set off to the kitchens together. Loki led Claire down the torch-lit hallways, ignoring the questioning looks they got from the guards they passed.

The kitchen was several floors below theirs, tucked behind the great hall. Though the large hearth still crackled merrily, the room spread out before them like a ghost town. The warm sepia-toned walls danced with distorted shadows of the various pieces of equipment strewn about the room. A dark alcove branched off one side of the room, the walls lined end to end with crowded shelves. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling of the alcove, lending an earthy smell to the room.

“Normally there are cooks here, but it's rather late, so we have the room to ourselves.”

“Let's get to work then.” Claire grinned, eyes scanning the room for a toaster. Or bread. Or anything she recognized. Claire barely recognized anything. There were familiar looking pots and pans suspended above the prep table in the center of the room, and utensils in a vase on a nearby counter. “Um...”

“What do you need, little wife?” Loki asked indulgently.

“Bread, butter, cinnamon and sugar. Also a toaster,” Loki looked at her strangely. “Do you guys not have toasters here?”

“What is its purpose?”

“...making toast...”

“It only has one purpose?”

“Well you can put other stuff in it like poptarts-” Loki grimaced, a memory of Thor sharing a poptart with him arising unbidden. “Not a fan?” Claire decided it might be best to start with the shelves.

“They are far too sweet for my taste,” Loki followed after her, his hand drifting across her lower back as he walk behind her. At the other end of the shelves, he began opening jars to find what she needed. As a prince he'd never prepared meals for himself except on the battlefield, and even then it was rare. He was as lost as Claire, both of them opening jars and frowning at the contents before moving on the next. “Perhaps it would have been faster to wake someone.” Loki chuckled as they struggled to locate everything Claire needed.

“Maybe,” she admitted guiltily. “Normally I'd have this made by now. Sorry I made you get out of bed.”

“It's alright,” Loki replied. His gaze dropped to the tantalizing cleavage her loose gown showed. The full swell of her breasts were visible, the outline of her piercings just barely visible through the fabric. “I struggle with sleep at times. Besides, the view is enjoyable.” Claire snorted.

“Still?” She asked with a laugh.

“Of course. I told you we would have fun, did I not?” Loki winked at her, proudly presenting a jar of...sugar bricks?

“You did.” Claire replied, butterflies coming back to life in her belly. Loki had already fulfilled his promise multiple times.

“Of course, if you are sore-”

“Well yeah, but the good kind,” Claire laughed. “You know I'm kinda surprised.” she glanced over at him, his lithe form covered mostly in shadow. Bathed in darkness, with only his eyes reflecting light, he almost looked like a cryptid lying in wait for her. Being a frost giant, Claire supposed, he technically was a cryptid.

A really hot cryptid.

“About what?” Loki’s smooth voice pulled her from her thoughts, and Claire turned back to the shelves grateful he couldn’t see her blushing.

“You not liking poptarts. I kinda pegged you as having a sweet tooth. Aha!” Claire set aside the jar of cinnamon sticks, wondering where she'd find something to grind them.

“I like some sweets, but not those horrible things. They are too...” Loki paused as he searched for the right word. Together they took the jars to the prep table. “Artificial.”

“Oh for sure, especially if it’s made in the States. We like our sugar,” Claire laughed as Loki left her side to search the collection of tools on the counters. “Have you tried anything else from earth?”

“Apart from the honey between your thighs, I have not.” Loki said, sliding the bread he'd found down the table to Claire. She gaped at him, giggling when he smirked unapologetically. He looked every inch like the cat who ate the canary. It was a well-deserved look.

“Okay point for you, that was smooth as fuck,” She flicked the towel covering the bread in his direction, sending a cloud of flour into the air. She spied a familiar looking block of wood and pulled a knife from it, pointing at him with the tip of it. “Do you want any?”

“In the kitchen?” Loki chuckled, his voice light with a glimmer of mischief. “How daring.”

“I meant the bread, mischief,” Claire cackled. “I'm open to the other thing too, but let me get this in the oven first. Er...on the fire?” she guessed as she realized there was no oven, only the crackling fire and the assortment of pots above their heads.

“Very well, I will try whatever it is you're making.”

“It's great, you'll see. Is there a cookie sheet?” With another search of the kitchen, the couple was able to find something resembling a cookie sheet and put the bread over the fire to toast. Loki helped her gather the butter from the larder under the floor. Claire thought she would find the archaic food prep annoying, but found she enjoyed the simplicity of it. It was nice, making something simple with someone she cared about. Claire and Loki chatted as they worked to grind the cinnamon sticks and pulverize the sugar bricks. The soft bread, Loki explained, was baked fresh every morning with flour from locally grown wheat, eggs from nearby farms and salt from mines in the south. Claire was astonished there were no preservatives or chemicals, and said as such. She didn't have an answer for Loki's confused 'why would there be?'.

“Still nothing?” Loki asked as she poked at the dubious looking almost-toast.

“I think it needs a few more minutes.” Claire poked the bread once more for good measure before pushing the griddle pan back over the fire.

“Excellent.” Loki cleared a space on the prep table before grabbing her by the waist and lifting her like a sack of flour. Loki's large hands traveled from her hips, grasping at the swell of her breasts as he captured her lips. Claire parted her legs to let him step closer, winding her arms around his broad shoulders as his tongue massaged hers. He grasped at her greedily, tugging her hips toward the edge before tugging her dress down to bare her chest. Loki’s mouth latched onto her nipple, suckling like a man dying of thirst and sending a throb of pleasure directly to her clit. Claire ground against the firm counter beneath her as Loki switched his attention to her other nipple. Her spine bowed as strong hands at her back pulled her bodily into him. Cool air assaulted her flushed skin as he released her, kissing a heated path up to her neck.

Claire urged him along, slinging one leg over his hip and pulling him closer as he captured her mouth. His teeth teased her lower lip as he pulled back, rough hands skating down her thighs as he dropped to his knees. Claire offered passing thanks to any deities listening that she hadn't put panties on.

Loki's broad shoulders forced her thighs apart, his large hands digging into her thighs as heated kisses marked a path along her flesh. Claire cried out when he licked a wide stripe along her sex. His hands tightened their grip, pulling her just to the counter’s edge as he took her clit between his lips, spelling out pledges of devotion with his tongue. She was sweet like honey, just as he'd said, with a slight tang from his earlier release. Her core was already molten, her silken muscles clenching as he pleasured her. Glass jars clanked together noisily as Claire’s hands searched for purpose on the slick surface beneath her, her panting breaths echoing as she basked in his attention. Loki looked up at her, his cock twitching at the sight he beheld.

His new wife was a vision, her eyes closed in rapture with her head back, her desperate sounds filling the air. Her long, tussled hair was wavy from her wedding braids, the strands floating around her as she writhed. The scintillating metal of her piercings was largely obscured by the silky strands, but the sight was enough to spur Loki on. This delectable creature was his. To bed...to breed. He dug his fingers deeper into her flesh, pulling her more firmly against his mouth with a groan. He was determined to wring every possible ounce of pleasure from her body. A choked gasp tumbled from Claire's lips as she dug her fingers into his mussed hair. She pulled him deeper into her slit, the ridge of his nose pressing against her clit as he suckled her tender flesh.

“Please-”

“Come for me, little wife,” He pleaded, lapping at her clit and making her thighs tremble around him. “I would wear your honey on my skin.”

“Oh my god,” Claire sobbed, her body jerking as her orgasm slammed into her like a linebacker. Loki suckled her clit as she bucked, holding her in place as he tortured her with pleasure. “Loki-” “Delicious.” Loki praised, rubbing her hips with his thumbs as he kissed her heated flesh. He rose leisurely, licking his lips as he ghosted his hands over her curves. Claire pulled him down to kiss him passionately, crossing her ankles behind his back.

“Fuck me, please.” she begged breathlessly against his mouth, pulling him closer with a needful moan. The heat of her called to him like a siren, his cock straining to fill her again.

“You should eat first,” he grunted. “You need your energy, darling,” Claire groaned against his skin, continuing to pepper convincing kisses along his neck. “I will happily bed you again once you've eaten.” He bargained.

“Alright, fine. Can you grab the toast? I don’t think my legs will hold me up right now.” Loki dutifully retrieved the toast from the fire, and together they slathered the slices with butter before sprinkling sugar and cinnamon over the top. Loki grabbed the plate in one hand, setting Claire back on her feet with an arm around her waist.

“Come, let's get you fed so I can devour you.”

“Mmm yes please,” Claire let Loki guide her out to the great hall, which was blissfully quiet and dark. Out on the terrace, they ate on a stone bench, shoulder to shoulder beneath the stars. The moon shone full and bright overhead, and Claire marveled at the beauty above them. Glittering stars decorated the backdrop of nebulae and swirling galaxies like confetti on a tabletop. “It's beautiful here,” Claire sighed happily, dusting crumbs from her fingers as she leaned against Loki. She'd consumed her toast quickly, her tired body needing the energy just as Loki had said. Loki hadn't complained about the toast once, so she assumed he liked it. “I've never seen anything like it.”

“If you'd like, I can take you to the observatory so you can see them up close.” Loki promised.

“I'd love that,” Claire smiled. “Did you like the toast? It's not too sweet?”

“I quite like it,” Loki said. “It is sweet, but not overwhelmingly so like your planets accursed poptarts.”

“My mom used to make this for me a lot growing up. It's a comfort food.”

“Comfort food? That's not an expression we have here.”

“Really?” Loki nodded. “It's something familiar and full of love that makes you feel safe and warm. Like a hug you can eat,” Claire smiled warmly. “What's your favorite thing to eat?”

“Almond cake,” Loki sighed wistfully. “I haven't had it in years. But it reminds me of being a boy, and how simple things were then.”

“See? Comfort food. I ate so much of this stuff when I was a kid.”

“I can see why,” Loki said. “It is delicious. Though not as delicious as you.” he praised, raising her chin with his fingers to kiss her swollen lips.

“So smooth...” Claire sighed.

“Shall we to bed, little wife?”

“Yes, please,” Claire begged, fingers digging into his shoulders as she clung to him. While Loki was fixated on her mouth, she slung a leg across his thighs and mounted him, settling her weight in his lap. “Want you.”

“Darling if you don't let me get up, I won't be able to take you to bed,” Loki chuckled.

“So don't. That pillar looks nice.”

“Another night, darling. Our first night shouldn't be spent where others can easily spy.” Claire groaned in protest, but allowed him to steer her back into the kitchen. Loki set their plate on the empty counter space he'd cleared earlier, the memory sending a thrill through Claire's body. The report she'd received had been a great start, but clearly Loki was into more than the report entailed. He seemed like a service top, and judging by his hand on the small of her back, he couldn't keep his hands off of her. Claire knew just how skilled those hands were and had zero complaints, even though the feminist in her piped up that she was more than capable of walking on her own. Claire took his hand in hers as they walked back, enjoying the way his hand dwarfed hers. The guard outside their door opened the massive door for them when they returned, closing it after them when they crossed the threshold.

Loki pulled her against him the instant they reached the bedroom, large hands roaming over her body as he buried his face in her neck. Claire dug her fingers into his arm as he anchored her body against his, a whimper falling from her lips as he teased her labia through the fabric of her gown.

Pulling free of his grasp, Claire pushed Loki onto the bed. Though surprised, he quickly recovered when she climbed in his lap and kissed him. Clothes were discarded quickly between kisses and before he knew it, Loki lay at Claire’s mercy on his back. Settling on her haunches, Claire ran her fingertips along the length of his torso. Luscious alabaster muscle lay beneath her fingertips, perfectly aligned like a decadent mosaic of masculinity.

“Are you satisfied, little wife?” Loki asked with amusement, her hands sliding down his chest as he sat up. “Or would you like to inspect me more?”

“Hey, I let you inspect me the first go 'round,” Claire replied, pushing him back down. “Fair is fair.” Loki laughed, smiling wolfishly as her fingers teased the trail of dark hair leading to his cock.

“Apologies, my lady,” he relented, threading his fingers together behind his head. “You're completely right.” If she wanted control, he'd let her have it. Loki was delighted to find Claire had a sexual appetite to match his own. He'd hoped of course, that this marriage wouldn't lead to a complete derailment of his life, but this was an intriguing development that he hadn't forseen.

He hissed as her plush lips closed around his nipple, her fingers continuing to map out the rippling muscles beneath her. She released him from her mouth, leaving a line of bites and soothing kisses on his skin as her mouth followed the trail her hands had marked. She straddled a thigh, shifting her weight to press her bare sex against him.

“What happened here?” She asked softly, her finger ghosting along the faded scar on his abdomen.

“An injury from battle. It's old.” Loki replied casually.

“Older than me?” Claire guessed teasingly. Loki snorted dryly.

“Twice over at least, if not more.”

“You're pretty hot for an old man.” Claire groaned appreciatively as he pressed his thigh against her harder.

“I assume that to mean you find me attractive.”

“Bingo,” Claire sighed, draping her hair over one shoulder. She moved her hips, grinding her wet heat against the meat of his thigh, leaving a trail of arousal on his skin as she leaned down to kiss the flesh beneath her palms. “Wouldn't be this wet for just any old man.”

“I'm truly touched.” Loki hummed, sitting up to grasp her hips and pull her closer. Claire shushed him, cupping his face as she kissed him fervently. Loki's grip tightened on her hips, his cock straining toward her heat like a compass finds true north. Claire slid an arm around his shoulders, pressing against him to fully straddle his thighs. Loki's hands moved to her ass, guiding her down onto his cock as they shared open-mouthed kisses. The couple moaned in unison as she settled against him, fully seated on his dick. “Du tar meg så godt,” Loki murmured, his forehead resting against hers as she rolled her hips. “Like you were made for me.” he groaned, overcome with pleasure as Claire took control and began to ride him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Claire moaned, tits bouncing as she fucked herself on his dick. Loki could feel her wetness on his lower belly, the slick mess squelching as their bodies collided again and again. “You're so deep, holy shit. Kiss me.” Her hand found the base of his skull, pulling him in for a heated kiss. Loki groaned into her mouth, thrusting into her heat and making her tremble around him. Claire’s body went lax and she melted into him, her pleasured moan muffled against his shoulder as she gushed all over his cock.

“Faen-” Loki’s body jerked as she nearly ended him. She clung to him like a koala as she caught her breath, and Loki was content to let her. “Are you satisfied? Hmm?” Loki asked, kissing her shoulder as he brushed her sweat-damp hair to the side.

“Not yet,” Loki grunted when Claire pushed him back onto the pillows. “Ever had a girl on top?” She asked breathlessly. Gods, her breasts were hypnotizing as they moved with each decadent roll of her hips.

“Not like you.” Loki praised, eyes half lidded as he gazed up at her with awe. Claire laughed breathlessly as she leaned back, resting her hands upon his thighs as she rolled her hips. Loki bit his lip as he watched his cock disappear into her slick channel with each pass of her hips, driving his desire to the boiling point.

He'd bedded many, but all his partners had touched him with reverence for his title, his body. As such they let him direct the pleasure, which was enjoyable, but this...Claire took her pleasure in her own hand, without shame or waiting for him to gift it to her.

Loki liked this give and take they'd found so naturally, and wondered if it would always be like this. Gods, how many times had he had her this night? Loki had lost count. Above him, Claire began to bounce, pulling a ragged moan from his chest as his balls tightened. He grasped at her hips, driving his hips up into her and giving himself over to the pleasure she gave him.

“I'm gonna come again, oh god,” Claire wailed, her head falling back in abandon.

“Do it,” Loki commanded breathlessly. “Let the guards hear how well your husband fucks you.” Claire whimpered, her hips jerking as she fell apart. Her hips shuddered and she cried out, bracing her arms on his thighs as her pussy squeezed him like a vice. Loki continued to thrust, chasing his release within the valhalla between her thighs.

“Fuck. Yes. Loki!” Claire's broken cries broke the dam inside him and he pulled her down onto his cock as he came, a breathless, jagged shout of completion escaping him. Claire's hips still moved, her clit rubbing against his pubic bone as they both fought to catch their breath.

Loki’s bones had stopped working. He wanted to move, to return the soft kitten kisses his wife was dotting along his hairline, but his strength was depleted.

“You okay?” Claire asked, her hand soothing his heated brow as she looked at him with concern. “Did you die?”

“No, I haven’t died-”

“Well you can’t blame a girl for worrying. You are-”

“Yes, yes, I am old,” Loki huffed, trying and failing to summon the strength to turn onto his side and unseat her. “Honestly, woman.” Claire’s unrepentant giggles made him roll his eyes even as he checked her over.

“You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

“We should probably go to sleep. You're going to be very sore come morning.” Ignoring her comment, Loki massaged her hips where his fingers had no doubt left marks on her delicate flesh.

“Worth it,” Claire moaned as she slumped forward onto his chest. She'd made no move to pull off of him, his cock still deep inside her well-fucked cunt. “I think I'm gonna like having a sexy husband.” She said sleepily, pressing her sweat-slicked body against his as she wove her arms around his neck between the pillows. “Can we cuddle?”

“Shall I be the soup spoon?” Loki asked as he pressed a breathless kiss to her temple.

“Mmm yes,” Claire sighed, moaning as Loki rolled them onto their sides. A trickle of wetness trailed from her pussy when he pulled out, and she whimpered when Loki's fingers trailed through the mess. “I like the way you hold me.” she admitted as she edged closer to sleep.

“Do you like the mess we made, little wife?”

“Yes. So hot,” Claire mumbled, making a small noise of complaint when Loki shifted her to put his arm beneath her. “M'not ready for babies yet, but fuck, I like the practice.”

“As do I,” Loki purred as he brushed her wild hair from her face. Another kiss found the bolt of her jaw as he molded his chest to her back, nestling within the blankets beside her. “As do I.”

Translations: (Norwegian)

Du føler deg så bra- You feel so good

Du tar meg så godt- You take me so well

Faen- fuck

#covenant #loki fic #loki x ofc #meowmeow writes #sorry it took so long

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preciousbarnes · 1 year

Text

Promises | Part 1/3

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: When your parents are murdered in cold blood, you turn to the most feared man on the east coast for answers.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: Violence, discussion of murder, graphic scene, hurt/comfort (it was a murder yall, its not pretty but I dont think I described it too graphically), Google translate used for the Russian, mafia themes.

You found yourself in a dark and quiet bar tonight, the smell of top shelf liquor and cigar smoke prominent the second you walked through the door. You were anxious of course, but anyone with a shred of common sense would be nervous about meeting the one known as the Winter Soldier. At least, you hoped to talk to him tonight. You slowly approached the bar, remembering the code your father had once told you, in case you ever found yourself in this position.

“Я ищу зимнего солдата” you softly say to the bartender, earning a subtly surprised expression. I’m looking for the winter solder, you had said.

The bartender sets down the glass he was drying, and walks away and through a back door, which you’re certain leads to the the office of the man you seek. After a few moments, the bartender returns, followed by a tall, blonde man. He was strong, all muscle, his face serious but had an undertone of friendliness. You were unsure if it was genuine or not. You never can be sure about mobsters, despite how kindly your father had always spoken of the Winter Mob. Especially now, that your family had been wronged so brutally.

“What is your business here, miss? We don’t see many women around these places,” He says, voice smooth like velvet, carrying the whispers of a Brooklyn accent.

“Mr. Barnes knows my parents. They’re the owners of the bakery on the corner of Southeast Avenue. Something happened, and I need to speak with Mr. Barnes. I need answers.” You say, voice surprisingly stern even though your insides felt like they were shaking like a leaf.

Once you mention the establishment your parents ran, the tall blondes eyes light with understanding.

“Ah yes, your parents are very good people. We know them well. You must be their daughter. If it is truly something serious, please, follow me,” He says, stepping aside as he holds the door for you. You walk down a long and dimly lit corridor in silence, being led by the man. This is when you notice the weapons strapped to his hips. He is dressed in the mobs characteristic all black clothing they were known for, with two guns, one on each him, strapped to him. He also wore a shoulder holster, holding a smaller pistol and two knives. He looked lethal, but had surprised you with his professional but friendly manner.

As you get closer to the door at the end of the hall, you hear the soft tones of jazz coming from inside the office, a deep and quiet hum accompanying it. The unnamed blonde knocks softly, before opening the door.

The office is also dimly lit only by a small desk lap. There were stacks metal file cabinets around the room, holding what you were sure to be decades of files on everything mob related you could imagine. The Winter Mob was known for their organization and wide depth of knowledge. The floor was a deep, rich wood, the wallpaper elaborate and stunning. Everything about the office screamed luxury.

At the desk in the center of the room sat the most dangerous man on the East Coast. Bucky Barnes, head of the Winter Mob. He wore a fitted black suit, with a black dress shirt as well. His hair was short, and he had a slight stubble on his jaw. He was a handsome man, but for every bit he was handsome, you knew he was also deadly. You involuntarily shivered at the thought of all he is involved with, and now here you were, on a mission for information.

He looked up, eyes taking you in, trailing over your face, then down your body, and back up before he spoke.

“What can I do for you, doll? Bad boyfriend you want taken care of?” He asks in a deep voice, with a slight chuckle, already making assumptions about you. It wouldn’t have been the first time a young woman had come to him for help getting out of a relationship. Little did you know, he always helped in those situations, for no cost. He was raised to respect women, to cherish them. Whenever he could, he would help women get away from men who didn’t understand that.

“No, Mr. Barnes. You know my parents. You helped them with a loan, to keep their bakery afloat. The little one on the corner of Southeast Avenue,” You explain, hoping that he will know who you’re talking about. You know he works and helps a lot of different people, so it’s hard to say if he will specifically know your parents. All you can do is hope.

At the mention of the bakery, Bucky gives a small but honest smile.

“Yeah, I do. They make the best cream puffs on this side of the U.S, I swear. How are they?” He asks you, as he leans back a bit in his chair.

“They’re dead.” You say, voice breaking on the word ‘dead’. It was still a raw wound on your heart, and still difficult to say out loud. It still felt like you were in a bad dream.

His visibly shocks Bucky. His eyebrows furrow together and his jaw drops open slightly.

“What?” He asks, softly. Unknown to you, since you were mostly away in the big city working, Bucky really loved your parents. He thought they were good, honest people. He himself stopped in twice a week to visit, always ordering a small black coffee and two cream puffs. Your mother and father reminded him of his own, who he dearly missed. It was a shellshock to him to hear the two were gone so suddenly.

His blatant shock surprised you. You really thought he knew. How did he not?

“You mean, you didn’t know? I thought it was one of your goons who took them out?” You ask, confused.

Bucky and the blonde man who had led you in snorted in slight laughter at you calling his workers and family “goons”.

“Steve, will you grab the ledger book for her families loan for me?” Bucky asked, thanking the blonde who you now knew was Steve as he handed a thin bound book over to the boss.

“Doll, come here, I want to show you something,” The boss called to you, beckoning you over with a motion of his hand, as the other flipped through the pages of the small book, before coming to the end of the writing in the book.

“See here? Their debt was paid back in full to me, two years before the deadline I had set. They’ve had me paid off for a while now. They swore to me I’d see my money back, with interest, and they kept their promise to me in full. I’d have no reason to put a hit out on them, and I never would,” The mobster told you, a surprisingly soft and gentle tone contrasting his strong and tough exterior.

“I- I don’t understand. I thought surely, they must have been behind on the loan, or made you angry somehow or something. I just wanted some answers. Who- who killed my parents?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes. You thought you had originally had at least part of the answer, being who was responsible, and now you didn’t even have that.

“I don’t know, doll. But we’re going to figure it out,” He promises you, confusing you once again. This man was full of surprises to you.

“Why? Why do you want to help me?” You ask him. When you ask, he looks to you with a fire in his eyes.

“They were family. No one gets by with hurting family, doll,” His voice tells you, a dangerous edge to it.

The mafia boss quickly tells Steve to pull his car around for you both after learning you had gotten to their bar by bus. As he waited, he asked a bit about you. He wanted to know where you were staying, to which you told him the hotel. He was satisfied in knowing it was one he secretly owned. You told him about your job in New York, which you had taken a leave of absence from to come home to Brooklyn to figure this out. He nodded as you spoke, listening as you watched him grab his gun from his desk drawer, loading it before putting it in the holster strapped to his hip. He then grabbed his wallet, thick with cash you could clearly see making it bulge, shoving it in his pocket. You both turned to Steve when he returned, telling his boss the car was ready, before leading you both outside.

You both climbed into the Escalade, Steve opening and closing your door for you. After you’re both buckled in, he begins to drive.

“Where did it happen?” He asks you, eyes focused on the road.

“Their home, off of 56th street, if you turn here, you’ll want to-“ You’re suddenly cut off.

“I know where it is, doll, your mother was sweet enough to invite me and the boys to dinner a couple times. A sweet woman, she was,” He told you, voice sounding like silk as he fondly remembered the meals and memories he shared with your parents. They had been good to him, and his closest family members; the boys who were part of his administration, the top level of the mob, the ones he worked with the most.

“I didn’t realize you all were that close?” You question, still surprised.

Bucky sends you a kind smile, not bothered by your confused and uncertain tone.

“Your parents were good people. Kind people. Nothing like the company we usually keep. They just needed help, and we were happy to help them. For our assistance, they made sure we knew how grateful they were, which isn’t something that happens for us often. Most are afraid of us, but for some reason they never were. We respected that.” He tells you, his own respect for your parents clear in his tone.

“They really meant something to you,” You conclude, still seeing a hint of sadness in his voice where he had to use past tense when talking about your parents now.

“They did. They treated me like their own, which I’m sure you know how good that is,” He tells you, voice soft again.

You smile sadly, nodding. Your parents had been so good to you, always your number one fan. To know they had been good to a mobster too, having hearts full enough to see past the tough exterior and treat Bucky’s family like their own, made your own heart swell. They really were good people. You were blessed to have come from them, but that made you want justice for them even more. They didn’t deserve the fate they had been given.

You both pulled up outside of their small home. It was modest, but charming all the same. A small brick two-story house with white shutters. There were small window boxes hanging off of each window, holding flower beds your mother had planted little wildflowers in, a beautiful bright contrast to the brick building. There was police tape surrounding the property, with an officer stationed outside on the porch.

Bucky puts the car in park, parking behind the police car out front. As he unbuckles, he turns to face you, surprised to see you also unbuckling.

“Doll, stay here, I don’t think you’ll want to see this,” He commands, voice not leaving room for argument. You’ve always been stubborn, so you argue anyway.

“I want to come with you, Mr. Barnes. I deserve to know. I want to see it too,” You plead with him.

He sighs, taking in your stern tone and resiliency clear on your face. He nods begrudgingly.

“First, call me Bucky. Second, okay. But, don’t say anything to the officer, and do not touch anything, okay?” He orders you, earning him a small smile and a nod from you.

You both get out of the car, walking up the sidewalk, only to be stopped by the officer.

Bucky quickly pulls out a wad of cash, silencing the officers demands for you both to leave. Pocketing the cash, he holds the police tape up for you and Bucky to crouch under to enter the property. You pull out your key to your family home, unlocking the door and moving to walk in the door until Bucky stops you.

“Let me go first doll,” He tells you, making you step back to let him enter first.

The first thing you notice is a pungent smell of iron hitting you both. You grimace. You hadn’t been told much by police, only that it had been quite a gruesome scene. The medical examiner had already informed you that you would have to have a closed casket service, and had advised you as gently as possible that it would be best if you didn’t see their bodies in the state they were now in. It hurt your heart. But all of that still didn’t prepare you for the scene you both saw in the living room.

Blood was everywhere. The floors, the walls, the couches, the curtains. It was obvious there had been a struggle from the trail of blood around the room. The room looked like a scene out of a horror film. In the center of the room laid a large and sharp knife, also covered in blood. In the light, gleamed an inscription you couldn’t make out. Bucky crouched down next to it for a closer look, and you couldn’t stop it anymore. Sobs wracked your body, vision blurring from your tears. You hug your midsection, wishing for comfort. It shockingly comes.

Bucky stands from his couched position in the middle of the room and strides back over to you, carefully wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, дорогая” He whispers in your ear, holding you close to him as your head comes to rest on his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist. Sweetheart is what he called you. His voice was also heavy with emotion, hating the scene in front of you both. It was a scene of two people who had fought hard, but nevertheless had a horrifying and painful death.

“I think I know who is responsible,” He informs you, after your tears slowly come to a stop, now just enjoying the comfort his strong arms brought you.

“You do? Who?” You timidly ask, fearful of hearing who could have done something so violent, so horrid and animalistic, to people as sweet and kind as your parents who wouldn’t hurt anyone for anything in the world.

“His name is Zemo,” His voice darkly tells you, taking your hand and leading you out of the house and back to the Escalade.

Part 2: Coming Soon

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sadlynotthevoid · 7 months

Text

WAIT—

Fairy Tail x LCF crossover AU where Gildarts and Jour are cousins.

This is, of course, in an AU where both worlds are one and the same. Earth Land is the name of their world and Fiore and the other kingdoms/places are located in a southeast part of the Eastern continent that limits with a commonly known dangerous part of the ocean. So, people don't usually go there unless they're already in the Eastern continent— or they live there and, therefore, are just used to it.

Then, maybe, when Gildarts was young he and his family went on a trip to the Eastern continent but he somehow got lost and ended up in Fiore. And when he finally found his way back to his parents, they were already gone (I mean dead, they are dead. No, they didn't abandoned him). So he decided to go back to Fiore to that nice guild he stayed in before.

Many years later, one Cale Henituse (the original one, of course), appears at the guild's doors asking the girl working in the bar for "a redhead man around his forties, probably tall. I think his childhood nickname was Gil".

The loud "wait! Are you Gildarts' illegitimate child?" exclamation that Natsu let out shocked everyone so much that the ongoing fight on the background stopped dead. Elfman fell face to the ground. Levi almost ripped off her book. Gray almost tripped into Erza's cake. And Cana—

Cana choked with her beer. Does she have a sibling?

After a short explanation that let even more questions than before, she learned that no, she doesn't have a sibling (not as far as she knows, at least). She does, however, have a cousin and a lunatic running wearing her second uncle's body (wtf??? That's creepy).

Hearing the newbie's story (yes, he was one of them now. No, she did not ask), Mira called the Master, who called Gildarts, who told them that he would be there in a week.

Meanwhile, why don't they start with his tutoring? After all, they can't have a member that can't use magic, can they?

This is before TBOAH timeline goes south, btw. And it won't. Cale has an army of crazy, loud, bamf magicians by his side.

#yes og cale somehow learned about ws #and came to the conclusion that he's possessing his mom's older brother's body #And probably was behind her mom's family's sudden death #So he has declared him an absolute bastard and is searching for a way to unalive him #then decided to go to the eastern continent to investigate a hint or something #and he heard about a redhaired man with crazy magic and hreat alcohol tolerance #'Sounds like mom's long lost cousin'#and went to advertise him because who knows if the man has family right?#and to ask some things about his mom's family #but somehow he got trained and recluted by his uncle's guild in the week it took him coming back #fairy tail #fairy tail crossover #lcf crossover #fairy tail x lcf crossover #og cale henituse #original cale henituse #gildarts clive #cana alberona #does that mean that Cana is a thames too?#Yes that's exactly what it means

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bethanysnow · 7 months

Text

Breakeven.

Prt 1.

Bang Chan X Plus Size Reader. Fluff mild angst. Slow burn?

The news broke that V from BTS's stalker was apprehended. The fact that someone got so close sent shock waves through the major companies to up security. Guards for even the groups that didn't have a major following, it felt incredibly necessary. Keeping the artists behind closed doors like hamsters in wheels and a very colorful and elaborate cage. The studio Stray Kids though did the majority of their work for their latest mixtape was across the street from a cafe. The road was mainly foot traffic and standing there on the concrete pavement was a woman with a guitar.

A foreigner. As divisive as that word is in South Korea, that's what she was...singing in English songs from a while back. Breakeven by The Script, Need You Now by Lady Antebellum. This heartache verbalized in the cry of the street. She bowed quietly with the smallest smile if people tipped her, that's at least what Chan noticed from his tower. Yes, the great tower of the unmarked building in the middle of the city. No one knew he was there, nor what the building was. Everyone below him just too busy with their own day to notice. He was grateful for that, but he found himself wanting to be amongst the people. Be there, go grocery shopping, go to a cafe. Exist in the cosmos of the cosmopolitin. So, looking out of the window of the studio he watched this woman. Living vicariously through her. He could hear her if he tried really hard with the window open, but most of the time it was when he snuck into the building he could hear.

Felix was setting down his things in a chair before seeing his friend deep in thought, not moving a muscle, just looking out the window. Walking beside him the blonde followed his eyeline to the girl.

"You know you can go say hi-"

Chan jumped not noticing the new presence slamming his hand over his heart. "Ah!-oh, hi...I dunno what you're talking about..." Brushing the comment off. Felix just raised a brow.

"You stand here and what...stare at her? Man, that's creepy- you wear a mask and a hat and go over. Say Hello"

Chan just shrugged. That was the thing with Bang Chan. With his life experience, the thing he never wanted was to be hurt like he was in the past. To suffer again the things he did getting here. There of course are other things, but when you are in this life it's far easier to make up stories about the driver, the barista, or grocery delivery person? Then to actually...know them. For then they could leave and you would be left alone. Parasocial relationships go both ways remember? So Chan for the first time in a while has had the time to look at the same girl and imagine. Imagine her life, why was she in Korea? Why did she always sing sad songs? Maybe she was a student and this is how she made extra money, or was stranded here and needed to find funds for a plane back home. Or just she liked singing.

So many questions and thoughts and contemplations on the idea of a person, a person he didn't know. While he and Felix went actually into the studio to work he couldn't get her off his mind.

Y/n though was very busy at work. It was hard to get people to notice you when you're in a larger body. At least notice you for the right reasons, notice the voice, the talent (as if). Southeast Asia had the beauty standard of a pin and people paid millions of dollars to fit it. The clothes, the almost infantilization of women? 'Cutesy' shit that made her skin crawl, she could dress like an idol, speak the language fluently, get her hair done at those fancy salons that give you tea; wouldn't be enough. So Y/n decided not to participate. She would sing, play guitar, and let that be the reason she was content. Be understood and heard through music. A couple months out of the year she visited a cousin who lived in Busan for work. Taking a week or so to visit Seoul it was her mission to live. Experience everything she could. That included what she normally did back home, just...here. Where Y/n would sing in front of a Starbucks or a dunkin, or dutch bros really whatever mall adjacent location would allow her to get a set in. Finding a cafe who agreed to let her perform on their property she set up. She just knew this wasn't a hot spot for tourism so felt comfortable in her ignorance if someone made comments she wouldn't super be able to understand them.

So she sang. Song after song not noticing at all the peering eyes from the man a floor above her.

Where Chris was watching. Dreaming of what she sounded like when she laughed, if she had a boyfriend or if he really should say hi to her...fate would have to decide as the rest of 3racha filed into the studio.

And so.....fate did decide.

~too be continued

#stray kids #bang chan #bang chan x plus size reader #works by me #breakeven #felix #skz

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southeastasianists · 5 months

Text

The story Southeast Asia likes to tell itself is that, by the late 1990s, it had something like its “end of history” moment.

By 1999, the region was free of colonialism, with the last push made by Timor-Leste, which that year held a referendum to throw off Indonesian imperialism. With that development, the region’s national borders appeared to be finally decided and revanchism, although it was still voiced on the fringes, had ended.

All Southeast Asian countries, except Timor-Leste, were members of ASEAN. Communist Vietnam and Laos were stable and internationally accepted. Anti-communist tyrants like Indonesia’s Suharto, Burma’s Ne Win and Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines had either resigned or been ousted.

And the worst crimes of the Cold War-era, including the Khmer Rouge genocide in Cambodia, were not just over but there was to finally be some sort of justice. In 1999, the holdout Khmer Rouge leaders finally surrendered and Ta Mok, its former army chief, was symbolically arrested by the local authorities.

Today, however, Southeast Asia finds itself trapped by history.

On the one hand, it became evident in February 2021 that not all of 20th-century history was over. The military coup in Myanmar that month awakened many to the reality that some elements of the pre-Cold War period had not been solved.

Indeed, Myanmar has been trapped in the early 20th century since independence from Britain in 1948. Whereas all other Southeast Asian threw off their colonial powers and then resolved their internal battles over what form of government would follow, Myanmar did not.

Myanmar as outlier

Anti-colonial struggles are conflicts against a foreign aggressor and civil wars at the same time. It is not enough to claim self-determination; it must be determined what sort of self you want once free.

The partition of Vietnam was both things at once. Many historians date the Cambodian Civil War as beginning in either 1967 (with the Samlaut Uprising) or 1979 (with the Lon Nol “coup”) but those same political schisms were latent, though blanketed, under Nordom Sihanouk’s regime that ruled after independence.

The People’s Power uprising in the Philippines in 1986 was essentially the answer to the question — constitutional or personalist rule — that was posed when the country gained independence from Spain in 1898, and, indeed, was the internal debate within almost all of José Rizal’s writings.

But Myanmar never went through this process — or, rather, successive military juntas never allowed the question to be seriously explored. The 1962 coup effectively froze in time the question of self-determination of Myanmar’s myriad ethnic minorities, a remnant of colonial rule.

In two ways, Myanmar under the military remained a colonial holdout: The Bamar center colonized the ethnic periphery and the anti-colonial struggle was never allowed to fully run its course. The cataclysm of the 2021 military coup appears to be the event that will finally bring this historical question to a proper solution.

The answer offered by the anti-junta movement, centered on the National Unity Government, is a revolutionary federal state, in which Myanmar maintains its same territorial borders but vastly more power and autonomy is given to the ethnic areas, while at the same time the national army, a product of anti-colonialism, will be dissolved and something (perhaps a network of militias) will take its place.

The junta’s answer, the same that its predecessors offered, is devolution based on the permission of a central authority, implemented through peace talks. The problem with this answer, as has been the case in the past, is that it is dependent not upon rules or laws but the whims of whichever general is sitting in Naypyidaw, so essentially yet another delay in answering the post-colonial civil war question.

Yet, for now at least, according to some hopeful observers, the forces of revolution are prevailing over the forces of reaction in Myanmar.

Baked-in crisis

Alas, the rest of Southeast Asia seems unwilling to accept that a historical reckoning must happen in Myanmar for there to be any progress.

One can put aside the fatuousness of permitting Myanmar entrance into ASEAN in 1997 before those civil-war conflicts were solved, yet ASEAN still doesn’t accept that by doing so it institutionalized those conflicts into the regional system.

In other words, by accepting Myanmar into the ASEAN bloc, the rest of the region (perhaps) unwittingly accepted a share of responsibility for solving those historical conflicts. This point is still not appreciated by ASEAN in its continued insistence that the solution to the current crisis is to return to a point in time: the status quo ante.

Yet, even if that return was feasible, which it isn’t, ASEAN would still be left with the situation of Myanmar’s 20th-century conflicts sparking another similar crisis at some point in the future.

ASEAN is, therefore, trapped in apparently thinking that Myanmar is unique in that it won’t have to go through the same bloody processes that the rest of the region did — a final reckoning of post-colonial civil wars — and clearly thinks that the region’s responsibility is to forestall, not assist, this process.

On the other hand, Southeast Asia is also in a history trap of believing that the post-Cold War era is still alive.

It can be fairly said that the region, aside from China, was the biggest beneficiary of the world order left after the collapse of communism in Europe. A cursory look at how the region has developed economically, culturally and socially since 1989 is enough to make that argument.

But what should we call the period between 1989 and, roughly, 2019? The “Chimerica Era”, that chimera when the United States and China thought they could get along and when the West thought that Beijing was playing by the same rules? Or, perhaps, the “Inter-Cold War Era?”

Nostalgia not enough

In any case, that period is now over. Yet, Southeast Asia’s leaders still think that they can deny its disappearance by repeatedly stating their opposition to what has come after – a “New Cold War” – as if denying something’s existence makes it not exist.

They hold onto the hope that Washington and Beijing will finally see sense and agree that because things were much better for all in the 2000s that should be their shared vision for the future.

If there is a purpose to “hedging”, it is presumably to play both superpowers off against one another to extract the most benefits. Yet the downside is that you make yourself dependent on both sides, as has been the case: As a share of overall ASEAN trade, the United States and China have taken on a larger, not smaller, percentage in recent years.

Hedging, as manifested today, is to take both sides, rather than to take neither side. That is problematic, to say the least, if there is a possibility of both sides going to war, when you will be forced by events outside your control and at a time not of your choosing to decide which side to take.

None of this is unreasonable from an emotional level; it’s only natural for Southeast Asian leaders, by 1999, to have been jubilant that the horrors of the 20th century were over and that their societies could finally have the stability to become prosperous – thanks to the Inter-Cold War Era.

It’s only natural to want the good times to continue. Sadly, they’re over and the world is once again a far more unstable and unpredictable place, including in ASEAN’s northwest. Nostalgia for times past will only get you so far.

David Hutt is a research fellow at the Central European Institute of Asian Studies (CEIAS) and the Southeast Asia Columnist at the Diplomat. As a journalist, he has covered Southeast Asian politics since 2014. The views expressed here are his own and do not reflect the position of Radio Free Asia and RFA sister organization BenarNews.

#Southeast Asia #ASEAN #Myanmar #Burma #History

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