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izukuwus · 4 years

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Housewarming (NSFW) (Bunny!Izuku x Reader)

Summary: Izuku comes over to spend the weekend helping you finish moving into your new house. You learn a few things about the habits of rabbits, including just how deep the rabbit hole goes. (bunny!Izuku x reader) (smut smut smut smut smut)

Warnings/notes: fuckin. just straight up fuckin. biting, hair pulling, tail and ear pulling, oral (giving and receiving), uhhhhh reader has tits and a vag but gender is not confirmed. reader and izu are both switches, praise kink with reader receiving, uhhh I think that’s it? a gratuitous amount of focus on the fact that bunnies wiggle their noses to express interest in things.

A/N: so uh. I’ve NEVER written smut before so please be gentle. but I had a conversation on discord the other night with some of my lovely wives. that conversation started something like this:

the following is how the conversation ended. (writing smut is apparently much easier with live audience commentary, i’ve learned.)

Word count: 8100+

Spending weekends with Izuku has always been at the top of your list of favorite things, pretty much second only to the man himself. Can anyone blame you? Your rabbit-eared best friend (read: longtime crush) is pretty much the sweetest guy you've ever met, his mom is a wonderful woman, and often, you feel more at home curled up with Izuku on his bedroom floor (neither of you ever want to take the bed only to leave the other on the floor, resulting in a history of cuddling each other to sleep and entirely defeating the purpose of sleeping on the floor to begin with) than you do your own house most of the time.

Spending the weekend together has been a monthly ritual for the two of you for years now, beginning in your last year of middle school (consisting of an extremely flustered bunny) when you still lived in the same apartment complex. You've since moved and the years have been kind, the innocent ritual remaining steadfast no matter how busy you or Izuku got with school or training or any matter of thing.

Only... This weekend is different. Because in the past, the two of you were always in the dorms or at his mom's apartment. There were always people somewhere nearby to pop their head in and offer fresh cookies or join in beating you at Mario Kart or put in a noise complaint if you laughed too loud.

In a way, there were always limits.

This weekend is the first in your new house, bought for a surprisingly low price that you can assume is the result of being relatively small and not in a very desirable area.

This weekend, you're completely alone with him.

Realistically, it's likely not that big of a deal. He's just coming over to help you unpack after you spent the past week preparing for the move. A housewarming sleepover is the perfect way to get you used to sleeping in the new place, after all, and you'd be much more comfortable if Izuku were there with you! (Besides, free labor.)

But you can't help but be just a little high strung.

You've reminded yourself a thousand times now that it's just Izuku. You trust him with your life, after all, and he's trusted you with every secret he has (even those he's technically not legally allowed to be disclosing to you). You were the first person he told about his new quirk, even before his own mom. So why the hell are you so nervous?

You're busily and restlessly looking between kitchen cabinets to decide where your dishes will go when he arrives, landing three firm knocks on your front door. You greet him with a smile and nearly cry when you realize he's brought flowers and pizza, his trademark nervous grin on his face.

"Great! This is the right place!" Izuku says, and you smile and step aside to let him in. "Your new place looks great, [name]!"

You smile, relaxing at his presence as you watch him walk in to explore. "Nothing's really set up yet," you say as he investigates the new house. "I've got a couch, a table, and a lamp and that's about it."

He turns to you, nose twitching excitedly. "It's got a lot of potential! I can't wait to help you get everything set up so we can really see how nice it is! Oh, and these are for you! I know it's traditional to give something, you know, useful for a housewarming gift, but I-I wanted to congratulate you on finally getting enough together to get your own place, and I think having something nice to look at is useful, too, so—"

You accept the bouquet with a faint blush, smiling up at him. "I love them, Izuku. Thank you." (Privately, you think that just his presence here gives you something nice to look at, but you suppose the flowers will stay a little bit longer.)

There's a quiet moment where the two of you just look at each other, and man, Izuku is really good at making you think he might actually be attracted to you, huh. (Probably just wishful thinking.) "Let's... let's go ahead and get started, yeah?" you say, eyes drifting hungrily to the box he has balanced on one hand. "I see you've brought pizza. I haven't put together the chairs yet, so wanna sit in the middle of my kitchen floor and eat pizza?"

He chuckles, ruffling your hair. "Lead the way."

An entire pizza between the two of you and with the entire kitchen unpacked, you fling yourself onto the couch with a sigh. "God, I'm so tired of this move already," you whine. "I just wanna be done already."

Izuku laughs as you drape yourself over the back of the couch dramatically, throwing an arm over your face. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes!" You take a moment to peek at him as he crouches by your TV, but his back blocks your view of what he's actually doing. Instead, you watch his fluffy tail with amusement. It twitches whenever you speak, and you swear to god it's the cutest thing you've ever seen. "I spent the past weeks packing when I wasn't at work only to unpack it and I'm tired, 'Zukuuuu."

"Well, what if we took a little break?" he offers with another twitch of his tail. He stands, brandishing your favorite controller as he circles around behind the couch to hand it to you. "You up for it?"

You roll your eyes, shifting to reach for the controller. The minute your fingers brush against it, though, Izuku takes a step back, his nose twitching quickly. The corners of his lips pull up into a poorly-concealed grin, and you sigh, flipping over and reaching for it again.

"Izuku..." you say, tone playfully warning as he pulls the controller just out of your reach a second time.

"You sure you want it?" he teases, pulling the controller just far enough away that you pop up on your knees, propping yourself on the back of the couch with one hand as you reach. "You want me to destroy you that badly?"

Ohgodpleaseyes—You choke, your hand slipping out from beneath you. Before he has the chance to be too concerned, you let out an annoyed noise and fling yourself over the back of the couch, chasing after him with a beet red face. Izuku yelps and runs the other direction when he sees you coming, hardly giving you the chance to break into a sprint before he's down the hall.

He stops a few feet down, watching you with one ear raised up, the other dropping against his shoulder. The grin on his face is downright goofy, and you let out a small giggle before giving proper chase.

Izuku, naturally, is not one to be caught. Even without the use of One For All, bunnies are naturally very fast, and you learned fairly quickly that he does not get caught if he doesn't want to be. Still, you'd be damned if you weren't going to try. You try to tackle, he somehow manages to slip around you and back down the hall, evading you constantly until the two of you have bounded through every room of the house, narrowly avoiding boxes and as-of-yet still-disassembled furniture just to get your damn controller between his amused laughter.

Izuku stops and watches you again just as you're starting to get out of breath, nose twitching a mile a minute. You come to a stop just in front of the couch, panting a bit from the exertion of chasing your fucking menace of a best friend around your house. He has both controllers held behind his back, and that's about when he does the single cutest thing you've ever seen in your life.

He fucking binkies, leaping into the air a few feet as he flicks his head, his ears flopping with the movement. You let out a giggle, trying very hard not to completely lose your composure, and, in a fit of goofiness, mimic the motion. It doesn't quite work the same when you're not the adorable one with the bunny quirk, but apparently, it does something, because Izuku's face goes full red in an instant, eyes widening as he searches your face.

He drops the controllers.

Your eyes flick to them as they hit the ground, and you realize that if you're going to get those controllers you have to do it now. You make a move to sweep them off the ground, but the second you move, it's apparently over for you.

The slightest sound of electric sparks reaches your ears before the wind's knocked out of you, your back hitting your couch cushions roughly as Izuku slams into your body, one hand cradling the back of your head protectively before he straddles your waist, looking down at you with a downright ecstatic look, green lightning sparking around Izuku for just a moment longer as he stares down at you, nose still twitching like it's run by a motor, ears straight up in the air, but that's hardly the key detail here.

His face is beet fucking red as he stammers. "D-do you really mean that?"

"Uh... wait, mean what?" You tilt your head, a little flustered from suddenly getting tackled and pinned down by your incredibly attractive best friend. Is your head spinning, or is that just the room?

Fuck, are you imagining things, or does he look excited beneath all that blushing?

"Y-you did it back, usually that's, uh, it means— um..." The excitement drains from his face steadily and his expression drops. (His ears also drop.) You've never seen him look so wounded, and now you're really confused. His next words tumble out of his mouth at a dizzying rate. "I-if you don't know what I'm talking about then nevermind, I obviously messed up, I can leave—"

The moment Izuku pushes off you and stands, very obviously embarrassed and looking on the verge of tears, you regain your bearings just enough to tackle him back down so now he's the one being pinned down. "No, you're not backing out of this. Did I really mean what, Izuku?"

He stammers incoherently for a second, his eyes roaming over you like he's not sure where to look, and you're suddenly a little self-conscious at the fact that you've just pinned him to your couch with no room for interruptions if things were to go the way pinning someone down on a couch is probably supposed to go, but you refuse to let up until he gives you an answer. You bring a hand up to his cheek, swiping a thumb where the first of several tears is moments away from slipping out.

"Come on, Zu-kun. I obviously did something to upset you, and I don't know what I did, and won't know what I did until you explain it to me."

He lets out a shaky sigh, squeezing his eyes shut as if it'll change the situation.

"'Zuku..."

Finally, he opens his mouth to answer. "It's, um, w-well, usually when rabbits, y'know, c-court each other, to, y'know..." His hands come up to cover his face in sheer embarrassment as he says the next words in a hushed hurry, so quick and quiet you almost don't catch them. "Y-y'know, m-m-mate and stuff like that, they, uh..."

Hot shame floods your being as you slowly come to a realization of what, exactly, you may have implied to him.

"It's, it usually, um, there's, kind of a m-mating dance? And w-when, um, I-I didn't really mean to, but um, at the end, i-if one of them binkies and the other d-does it back, it means, um—" He lets out a mortified whine. "P-please don't make me explain it any more than that," he says finally, sounding defeated.

Oh. Oh.

Well, that's something along the lines of a "disaster" if you've ever caused one.

"Oh fuck, I am so sorry, shit Izu. I didn't mean to—"

"I-it's okay," he mumbles, dragging his hands off his reddened face. "You can get off me now."

Jesus, he's about seconds away from crying as he gently tries to push you off him.

Well, fuck. Unless you're mistaken, the expression on his face is utter heartbreak. You're already in the worst position possible here, so...

You lock your thighs in place around his waist to resist his gentle push. "Izuku, wait."

"[name], it's okay. Please just, give me a minute to—"

"Izuku." You firmly place your hands on his chest, pushing him back down. "Please listen for a sec?"

His hands remain on you, but he stops pushing, not meeting your eyes as he waits in silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that binkying back at you like that would imply that I, you know, wanted to get with you, but that doesn't..." You chew your lip, locking your eyes on the controllers, still on the floor from when he dropped them. No backing out.

You mumble the last part (the most important part) so fast you almost hope he doesn't hear you: "that doesn't mean it was the wrong idea or anything—"

His head is still turned away, but his eyes flick to your face with a surprised sniffle. "...what?"

You furrow your brow, your heart hammering away in your chest. "God, please don't make me say it again," you whine, your hands coming up to hide your own face.

"No, please say it again," he breathes. "I mean, I already misinterpreted once today and I don't want to—"

You let out an embarrassed whine, pressing your hands to your face even harder. "I didn't mean to say it but that doesn't mean it wasn't something I meant to say eventually," you hiss out slowly and much louder than you would have liked.

You peek at Izuku through your fingers, desperately looking for any reaction to tell you whether you just irreparably fucked things up with your best friend.

Izuku is, and always has been, a very expressive person. You've been able to gauge his emotions at a glance for as long as you've known him—even if he didn't wear his heart on his sleeve, generally the angle of his ears and the movement of his nose or tail have always been more than enough to keep tabs on how your best friend is feeling.

Right now, though, aside from the flush on his cheeks and slight parting of his lips, Izuku is carefully blank. It's like he's shut down, mentally—blank eyes, nose still, mouth just slightly open but not with any hint of emotion to it. Not positive, not negative, just mild shock and a practiced blankness that has your face burning and you moving to get off him.

You feel him shift beneath you just a moment, and then once again, you yelp as you suddenly find yourself on your back, but this time, you're not looking up at Izuku, because his lips are pressed to yours, one leg hanging off the couch while the other is wedged firmly between your legs. You can feel his hands tremble as they cup your face, your eyes blown wide with shock. He's unpracticed, but his lips are soft and it's him kissing you so enthusiastically that you really have no right to complain.

Your eyes flutter shut as you begin to kiss back, your hands gently coming up to tangle fingers in his hair. You let out the tiniest whimper as your reciprocation seems only to spur him on, him kissing you somehow even more passionately.

You can't help but giggle into the kiss when you feel his nose twitching against your face, causing him to pull back just enough to breathe. His obsession with training over the years has clearly done him well—his breathing seems mostly unaffected by the kiss, while you lay there panting and trying to make sense of what the hell just happened.

Izuku watches your face for just a moment, seemingly shocked at his own actions, but leans in again, brushing his nose against yours adoringly. "I-I'm sorry, I was just... really happy..."

You let out another tiny giggle, leaning up to kiss him again. Much like in all other areas of his life, he's quick to kiss back, already seeming to kiss you with a bit more precision than the first. He pulls back, hot breath ghosting against your lips as he whispers to you. "I-I've loved you for—" —he breaks off to plant another tiny kiss on your lips— "—s-so, so long, [name]."

He goes to kiss your lips again, but whines when you turn your head so he hits your cheek instead. "I love you too, 'Zuku," you hum, continuing to dodge his kisses playfully.

"[naaaame]," he whines. "I've got a lot of lost time to make up for, stop dodging me..."

Cute, sweet kisses are lovely and all, but as long as you're trapped between his muscles and the couch, you might as well tease him a little, right? And you've got just the idea to push him a bit further.

You look up at him with a playful smile as he glares heatlessly at you. His hand, previously cupping your cheek sweetly, grows a little bit firmer in its hold in an attempt to hold your face in place so he can kiss your lips. He darts down to capture your lips again, exactly according to plan.

Your fingers, still entwined in the mop of green he calls hair, grip carefully and tug his head back before he can properly kiss you.

Bingo. You can't help but grin with flushed cheeks as he immediately grinds his hips down onto your leg, letting out a breathy moan as something suspiciously firm and growing rubs against your thigh, bare from the shorts you dug out of your clothes this morning.

You watch his face in awe, his freckles disappearing among how purely red he's gone, and give another gentle tug to his hair. This time, he borderline whimpers, hips moving like he's being controlled. His eyelids flutter shut, hot pants causing his chest to heave as green eyes stare down at you, darker than you remember.

No lies here, the fact that he can't help but grind on you is... really hot. So hot, in fact, that you can't help but shoot him a teasing smirk as he watches you with half-lidded eyes. "Excited, Jackrabbit?" you muse.

He whines as his head drops to your shoulder. Quietly, so quietly you almost miss it, he mumbles, "how can I not be when you of all people finally take an interest in me?"

God, if he weren't still grinding his hard-on against you, that would've been adorable. "If I'd known you were into me, we could've been doing this years ago, 'Zuku baby." You punctuate your sentence with another tug to his hair, to which he retaliates by biting down on the crook of your neck, dragging a drawn-out moan from your throat.

He pulls off with a small giggle of his own, eyes staring down at you playfully. "Aw, are we sensitive, honeybun?"

You don't dignify him with a response. At least, not a verbal one. You pull him back down for another heated kiss, lips moving against his as your hands slowly drift from his hair, down to his chest. You splay your palms out, just feeling his muscles for a second before you pull back, take a breath, and shove him as hard as you can. He lets out a tiny "guh?" before you're straddling his hips, hands returning to his hair and lips returning to his.

He's shocked, but clearly he's more than happy to continue making out with you like this. You, however, have a curiosity stemming from years of Izuku dodging around you touching his ears that you just have to sate, so your hands slowly but purposely crawl up to the base of his ears, thumbs brushing the velvety appendages gently before you pinch the base and give them the slightest tug.

Izuku pulls back with a moan, shivering as you continue to thumb his ears in slight awe at their texture. "[n-name]~"

You bring a hand up to laugh. "Aw, are we sensitive, Izu?" you tease, drawing a glare from him. Just to drive it home, you shift and grind your hips down, planting both hands on his chest to steady yourself, effectively killing his glare as he lets out another shaky moan.

"T-that's not fair," he whines.

"Life's not fair," you muse, grinding down one more time before leaning down and tugging at his shirt. He doesn't seem to notice, lost in pleasure just from grinding with his eyes closed. "'Zuku baby, can I see a bit more of you?"

Another whine tears from his throat, and he opens one eye to look up at you. "O-only if I—hah—get to see more of you, too."

You smile, locking your legs around his hips and giving him a show as you slowly peel your shirt off. When it's over your head, you look down and wink, almost losing your composure completely.

His jaw's dropped, eyes locked on your body, and when you wink, he bucks his hips up. You yelp, barely managing to steady yourself at the sudden force, and this time when you lean down and go to pull his own shirt off, he helps you wiggle it off of him. You suppress a groan at the sight of his bare chest, shifting up a bit so you're straddling his abs and he can't grind against you as easily. (You love it, but can't have him getting too excited, now.)

Scarred, calloused hands settle on your waist as he just admires you, completely wordless. You've half a mind to be self-conscious about his lustful gaze on you, but it's hard when you've got your own view to devour.

Izuku really is gorgeous. Sure, it's not the first time you've noticed over the years. Where he was once your scrawny bunny boy, years of training and hero work have left him littered with scars and bursting with muscles, maintaining his lithe form without sacrificing any amount of strength. Among the scars is a smattering of freckles decorating his shoulders, and that's just his body. To say nothing about his face, still young-looking despite the years and, as of right now, dripping with utter adoration for you.

"You're gorgeous," he breathes, thumbs gently rubbing circles into your hips.

"Says you." You smooth your hands over his chest, dragging your nails teasingly. When you barely brush against his nipples, he shivers, letting out the slightest gasp. You smirk and repeat the motion, watching his face as his fingers twitch around your waist. You could honestly tease him like this for hours just to watch his face and feel his muscles as his stomach trembles between your legs. (Again, Izuku has always been the epitome of expressive, and it's moments like these that you truly understand how much that shines.)

Izuku, however, has a better idea as he effortlessly sits up with you in his lap, trembling as he gives you a slow, charged kiss. (You'd like to imagine his thought process right now is something along the lines of "holy shit holy shit holy shit", but it's difficult to tell.) When he pulls away, he buries his nose in your neck, letting out a shuddering sigh as you glance down over his back. "I-is it okay if I touch you, too?"

You stifle a laugh when you finally notice his tail hitting the couch a mile a minute, forgetting for a moment that Izuku asked you a question. "Just do it already, Jackrabbit," you tease. "You don't have to ask."

He doesn't waste a moment at your permission, immediately shoving your bra up and out of the way to take one of your breasts into his mouth, a hand coming up to knead the other one excitedly. For a moment, you simply hold him as he enjoys himself, letting out little gasps as he lathes a hot tongue over your nipple and lets out a tiny moan of his own. But naturally, your eyes drift to his tail again. The ball of fluff seems to be moving of its own accord, and honestly, you can't resist drifting your hand down to grab it and give it a little tug.

The mouth on your breast leaves as Izuku immediately tosses his head back, letting out a strangled moan louder than you ever thought possible. His hands squeeze instinctively as his eyes roll back, ears falling back and brushing your hand as he momentarily loses himself.

Your face flushes as you watch his with renewed interest. You swear you can see hearts in his eyes, the blush on his cheeks creeping down his neck and shoulders, and holy fuck do you wish you had a camera ready. You want to look at that expression every day for the rest of your life.

He lets out a few garbled noises that might have been words, had he been two percent more coherent. Your laugh dies in your throat when, upon collecting himself, he gives you a look about four shades darker than you ever thought your sweet Izuku to be capable of. You knew he was gorgeous and fun and amazing, but now you can add "panty-dropper" to the list of words describing him.

You don't fight back when he practically flings you back onto your back and clamors to hover over you, nipping at your neck as his hands find the waistband of your shorts. He yanks both your shorts and your panties down at once, leaving them to pool around your knees as the force pulls you back flush with his hips. When you give his tail another weak tug he growls into your neck. You're gone. You're officially gone. Between the not-so-gentle reminder that this boy can fling you around like a ragdoll whenever he wants (and that you kinda wanna thank him for doing so) and the growl, just...

Goodbye, panties. You're living a better life now.

When he looks into your eyes with that same heated gaze from before, your breath catches in your throat. His voice, however, is far from matching when he speaks. "I-I really want to take things slow a-and do things right, b-but if you keep pulling my tail like that, my patience is gonna run out, you know?"

You watch his face with wide eyes for a long moment, pulling the most innocent face you can muster. "Pulling your tail like what, Jackrabbit?" you say teasingly.

And then.

You pull again.

Izuku's moan turns to a whine and mixes with your own as he bites down on your neck a third time to muffle himself. He pulls up when he's collected and reaches behind himself, one hand firmly wrapping around your wrist while the other grabs your other hand. Slowly, purposefully, he pins your wrists down in one hand, attempting to intimidate you with a glare. There's no heat to it, though, especially not like this, not when there's hearts in his eyes, not when he's panting and sweating and blushing down his neck and you're now fully aware that he moans like a goddamn pornstar.

To his credit, none of that makes you any less horny right now.

Now that he's got your wrists pinned down, he takes another moment to just look at you with hungry eyes. They roam your disheveled form, paying particular attention to your tits as they bounce with every heavy breath. His eyes drift up to your face, and he swallows harshly at the look you're giving him. It takes him just a moment longer of admiring you, the damn near animalistic look from before slipping away to something more Izuku before he speaks.

"I-if we're going to do this, I want to make sure you feel good, too," he says evenly, no longer looking anything but purely genuine. "So please keep your hands to yourself for a little bit?" He tilts his head, ears flopping with the motion, eyes innocent as if he's not asking you to hold still so he can drive you to madness without interruptions.

You nod slowly, swallowing a bit and stilling in his grasp. His fingers twitch, his face lights up, and for just a moment you swear he's more like a puppy than a bunny.

He shifts, his hands releasing your wrists but hovering over them a moment longer. "If you need me to stop at all, just let me know, okay? The last thing I want to do is push you further than you're okay with it."

"Okay," you whisper breathlessly, watching with interest as he properly lets your wrists go. He glares playfully for a moment, watching to see that you don't move your hands, and when he seems satisfied that you'll actually listen this time, he begins tracing down your arms with featherlight touches.

He's painfully slow in his movements, fingertips grazing your skin as he moves down. He briefly leans down and pecks at you softly, first your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then grazes your lips just enough to draw out a whine as he cups your cheeks. With every tiny kiss, he mutters against your skin— "love you—" "—so much—" "—so fucking much."

"Love you more," you chirp sweetly.

"Hmm, that's debatable," he hums. "But let's come back to that later. Right now, there's s-something I want to do."

With that, he continues running his hands down your body, smoothing his rough palms out just to feel your skin. He exhales slowly as he palms your breasts, smiling fondly down at you as you gasp. "You're so soft..." he whispers, mostly to himself, as his nose twitches a single time. He only plays with your breasts for a moment before his hands continue to move down your body, eliciting a surprised giggle when his scarred hands smooth over your sides. He slowly moves in with both hands, dipping between your thighs, and just when you think he's finally going to touch your dripping slit...

He gently parts your thighs and continues moving, lightening his touch as fingertips drag over your inner thighs. You let out a mournful cry when he continues down your legs, hands smoothing against your outer thighs and hooking underneath as he reaches your knees.

He exhales, flicks his eyes up to your face with a blank look that usually spells trouble. Without warning, he yanks you toward him in a controlled jerk, leaning down as you yelp. Before you can get your bearings, his hot tongue is dragging flat against your heat. You let out a moan that almost drowns out his own at the flavor.

"God, y-you're so wet for me, [n-name]." His breath is hot against you, green eyes locked on yours. "You taste so good."

You'd like to respond, really you would, but he goes right back to eating you out, tongue firmly dancing over your clit before dipping into you. His hands grip your thighs as he enthusiastically gets to work, little moans peppering the space in between your own gasps and pants. You throw your head back as he works—he's a messy eater, to be sure, but you swear you can feel him learning as he goes. He's probably cataloging every noise you make, every twitch of your thighs, especially if the rhythm he quickly falls into is anything to go by.

When he moves to latch his mouth over your clit, his eyes closed as he loses himself to pleasuring you, and you're so so close, maybe you can get away with at least winding your fingers through his hair—

The moment your hands move, his eyes shoot open, and he pulls away from your pussy with a look that screams nothing but disappointment, though it doesn't quite cut. "Honeybun..." he says, voice husky and gently chiding, your slick glistening on his lips. "You said you'd keep your hands to yourself."

You instantly slam your hands back down to the couch, letting out a whine as you give him a pleading look. "B-but I wanna touch you, Izu," you whine out.

His hips buck against air at your words, his nose twitching in surprise as his eyes widen. Seeing a crack in his armor, you have to pounce. "Come on, Jackrabbit," you insist. "You're so good to me. Can't I make you feel amazing, too?"

He's so stunned that he hardly reacts as you prop yourself up on one elbow, yanking him down for a hot kiss with a hand on the nape of his neck. You wrinkle your nose in distaste when you realize you can taste yourself on his lips, but that doesn't mean you're going to stop, not by any means. You lift a knee, opening one eye to make sure you're aiming correctly, and rub against his aching bulge just as his tongue slips into your mouth.

The poor boy jerks away from your mouth, letting out a quiet, drawn out moan as his cock twitches against your knee.

He stares at you for a moment, face flushed and breathing heavy as tiny tears form at the corners of his eyes. "I-I'm so sorry, [name], I wanted you t-to—"

You cut him off with a sweet kiss, locking lips with him as you carefully shimmy out of your bra and bottoms (both having been left hastily shoved out of the way), tossing them out of the way. When you're properly stripped, you gently push him back so you're both sitting up and pull away with a sweet smile.

"We're only done here if you want to be, Zuzu," you say, dripping with affection (and perhaps maybe something else).

He immediately shakes his head, ears following the motion as his face flushes worse. "N-no, I want to... I want to keep going."

You chuckle softly and slide off the couch, gently guiding him to sit in front of you properly before you reach up to toy with the zipper of his pants. "Then, let's keep going, hm~?"

He nods, nose twitching relentlessly as you slowly pull his zipper down and slide your hands into his pants. You cheekily smooth your hands over his ass before actually beginning to pull his pants and boxers off in one go. You giggle as his cock springs out, somehow still hard despite the obvious mess of cum clinging to his thighs and the inside of his boxers. You slowly lean forward, sure to make eye contact with him. Instead of going for the mess he's made just yet, however, you run a thumb through some of his cum and smear it over his abs, just to have an excuse to lick it off.

You're slow and sweet as you lick up his abs, arms wrapping loosely around his waist. The look he gives you is almost one of betrayal as you pull back, and you bring a hand to your lips with a coquettish grin.

"Sorry Izu baby, I've been wanting to do that for the longest time," you admit, resting your arms on his legs and your head on your arms.

He groans lowly at the admission, head dropping back. "H-how long—" he breathes out, cutting off when you drag a finger over his length.

God, even his cock is gorgeous. Long, thick, honestly just a little bit intimidating. You're functionally a virgin thanks to your formative years spent being silently in love with a certain green rabbit boy, so you're a little concerned that he'll split you in half when you actually fuck.

...You might not complain if he does.

You admire it with adoring eyes as he whimpers. "Now's not the time for asking questions, Jackrabbit," you coo, glancing up at him for only a moment before wrapping your hand around his cock. (Christ, you can barely wrap your whole hand around it.) "I was good long enough, so you'll let me return the favor, right?"

"I'll be good," he whines, bucking into your hand something fierce. "I'll be good so please, [name], please—"

You lift your head from where it rests, guiding his tip to your mouth to press a tiny kiss there. Izuku whimpers in response, attempting to buck his hips again. You smile, snaking an arm around behind him to gently run your thumb over the fluff of his tail. You keep a light hold on it, just touching it enough to feel it as you take a deep breath in preparation. When you're ready, you lean forward again slowly, teasingly breathing hot air onto his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth.

"Fuck," Izuku breathes as your mouth closes over him, gripping the couch cushions with white knuckles.

If you thought you'd take this slow and teasing, well, regrettably, Izuku can't seem to control himself well enough for that. He bucks into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with ease as you choke. You tug his tail ever-so-slightly as a warning, but his response is almost more than the way he lost his mind earlier—his hips move frantically, leaving you to do nothing but relax and take his cock down your throat.

"I-I'm sorry," he babbles. "Y-your mouth is so— so good, you're so good for me, honeybun, I'm sorry, I don't think— ahn~ I don't think I can be good like you asked, it's too good, you're too good, s-soooooooo—"

You manage to tear yourself away from him just in time for him to erupt, hot ropes of cum hitting your face and the top of your breasts, precious little making it into your mouth as you gasp for air. His tail twitches in your hand as he babbles, legs shaking and feet gently thumping the floor. You gently, carefully, clean him up, pausing to grab your discarded shirt and wipe your face off.

When you're both clean and still out of breath, you rest your head against his leg, tilting up at him sweetly as you trace small, soothing circles over his opposite thigh. "You said you'd be good, but I guess this makes us even, huh, 'Zuku?"

He mutters something you don't quite catch.

"What was that?"

"I said—" —you're suddenly tackled once again, skidding across the floor from sheer force as Izuku pins you down— "—not. yet."

Well. Mark me down as scared and horny, I guess.

"S-still raring to go, Jackrabbit?" you force out in your best teasing tone. "Huh, guess it's true what they say about fucking like—"

"Hush," he hisses out in a dark tone. You gulp; all the adoration and sweetness you're used to from him has melted away, leaving only something dark and carnal in his eyes that has you shivering. And then, almost instantaneously, he slips into a saccharine tone. "Be a good girl and let me take care of you, okay sweetheart?"

Oh god. You nod so quickly it's dizzying, so slightly that if it were anyone other than Izuku watching you, they might not notice. But it is Izuku and he notices, just like he notices your breath hitching when he does something right, notices how you respond to his praise, notices how you watch him, excited and intimidated all at once, and the smile he gives you is deceptively sweet and innocent and so so unsuited to the situation at hand that if the circumstances were different, you'd laugh. But you're not laughing. Not when you feel his head prod against your entrance and circle teasingly.

He doesn't tease you for long, though. One whine from you is all it takes for him to slide into you, made easier by how soaked you get the moment his goddamn guttural groan reaches your ears. He shakes as he enters you at a torturous pace, drawing a cry from your lips as you feel yourself stretched in a way you've never been before. The slightest squelch fills your living room as he finally bottoms out in you and stills to let you adjust to his size.

You're not sure whether to thank every deity that he's got at least enough self control to let you adjust (or that he's going to fuck you at all) or to plead for him to please god just rearrange my guts already before you lose your fucking mind. Izuku forces himself to open his eyes and watch you as you take him in, biting his lip as your face contorts. It's so much, so much to not just ruin you right off the bat, but he's careful to wait and not hurt you... too badly, at least.

You just watch him, meeting his eyes with a half-lidded gaze of your own as you pant and lie still. After a moment, Izuku realizes why you're so still and quiet—

His head drops into your shoulder as he chuckles. "You really are so good for me, honeybun. Are you ready?"

"P-please~" you mewl into his ear.

That's all he needs to hear. Slowly, carefully, he pulls out of you until just the tip of his cock is left throbbing inside of you, and then he snaps his hips forward in one sharp motion. That damn smile drops from his face, his jaw going slack as he starts a slow pace, trying his absolute damnedest to not completely lose himself. As much as he adores watching your expressions, he can't help but throw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as he pistons into you, panting heavily.

"Hah~ Fuck, [name], y-you're so— so tight~"

When he finally brings himself to take a peek down at you, he can't help the sudden increase in both speed and force as he grips your hips. With every thrust, your tits bounce in response, and your expression is nothing short of starstruck as he damn near slams into you. Before he even realizes it, a stream of words fall from his lips, every one of them truthful, adoring, and just a little bit incoherent. Your mouth hangs open in silence, unable to even moan as he drills into you at a pace quickly approaching brutal speeds.

"God, y-you feel so much— so much better than I ever expected-hoped-dreamed about, honeybun, and I really mean that, really mean that, you're so— guh, so tight around me, i-it's hard to believe you weren't made to take my cock, you know? You're so hot and wet and tight and I— I-love-you-love-you-love-you oh godddd I love you so much you're so gooooooood~"

If you were able to focus enough to think, let alone speak, you'd probably make some comment about how he's literally fucking you like a rabbit, but it's all you can do to claw desperately at his back, legs locking weakly around his hips as you quiver beneath him. Between the way he's babbling nonsensically to you and the wet slaps filling the room and the charming sloppy-enthusiastic way he's fucking you relentlessly it's almost too much. If you can walk after this, it'll be nothing short of a miracle.

You've been almost silent, practically unable to moan due to the overwhelming bliss from being stretched out so deliciously, but the keen that tears from your throat as the building knot in your stomach finally snaps is loud, nails dragging down his back one last time as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.

There's not really any doubt left in Izuku's mind that he's fucked you stupid, not with your walls fluttering around him, not with your hands desperately moving, searching for something, and he's got an idea of what it is when your hand brushes his tail and yanks, rougher than you have before, hard enough to send him crashing over the edge with you and nearly making his legs give out from the pleasure.

Izuku's vision blacks out as the pleasure crashes over him, the pair of you riding out your orgasms in tandem as he paints your walls white. You're dizzy as he finally collapses on top of your body, shuddering and not bothering to pull out of you as he rests his cheek against your heaving breasts.

"Holy shit, Izuku," you breathe, hands tangling in his hair as you stare up at your ceiling.

"Now we're even," he says, shaking a bit as he chuckles.

"I hope you know I'm never letting you go." His hair is soft as you nuzzle into it. "Holy shit."

"Aw, am I that good?" he teases, slowly pulling out of you. You whine at the loss. "Shh, it's okay, honeybun. I promise that won't be the last time."

"Thank god," you mumble, playing with his hair lazily. "Go out with me."

"No."

Your hands still, your blood running cold. "Oh."

"You go out with me," he finishes, smiling against you.

You lightly smack the back of his head. "You scared me, dick."

"Is that a yes?"

You go back to playing with his hair. "I guess. But you have to go out with me, too."

"Yes, that's how it works."

"Really?" you retort. "You had me fooled, rejecting me so you could ask me out instead."

"What can I say?" He lifts his head, pushing himself up to plant a soft kiss on your lips. "I wanted to win."

"You could've killed me, Izu," you whine. "You're heavy and then you say no—"

He rolls his eyes, nuzzling into your neck. "You know I could never actually say no to you, right?"

"Oh~? Are you saying you're too in love?" you tease.

He giggles, pressing tiny kisses along your neck. "Yes, I am. I've been in love with you since middle school. Got a problem with it, honeybun?"

"O-oh." Huh.

"What? Got nothin' to say to that?" he teases.

"S-sorry, I'm just... fuck, you're saying I could've had you years ago?" You press a kiss to the top of his head, right between his ears. "I've been in love with you for just as long and this whole time I've just been pining instead of kissing you."

"Pining?" he echoes, rolling off of you with a grunt. He immediately wraps his arms around you to pull you flush with his side, smirking at your little squeak of surprise.

You blush, burying your face in his chest. "Y-yeah, I said it. Pining."

"Tell me more, Honeybun. I'm interested to know exactly what you mean." A large hand drifts up to card through your hair affectionately, and you sigh as you drape your arm over him.

"Izuku," you whine. "It's embarrassing."

"Please, [name]?"

"...fine," you mumble. "I was always... You were always so sweet and kind and passionate, and in middle school you were cute and I wanted to protect you. But then we got to high school, and oh no he's hot, I guess... I mean, shit, Izu, you got muscles. And scars. I know you don't like them much but they're hot."

"'Hot', huh...?"

You don't have to look at him to note how much he's clearly enjoying this. "Keep making fun of me and you can sleep on the floor tonight."

"That's okay, as long as you're here, too," he replies without missing a beat. "Do you wanna get up and go wash up? I can't imagine all that feels very comfy right now."

You laugh nervously. "I'd love to, but, uh. I still can't feel my legs. I don't think I can walk."

Izuku lets out an affronted gasp as he sits up. "[name]. I'm offended at the implication that I'd make you walk." He pushes himself up. "You wait here, and I'll run you a bath."

"Mm... no," you reply, watching him with subtle amusement. "Run us a bath, Jackrabbit."

He laughs, shooting you a wink. "Anything for you, Honeybun. I'll be right back."

He rushes off on shaky legs. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle your giggles when he returns not even a moment later.

"Hey, [name]?"

"Hm? Could it be that you don't know where my bathroom is?"

He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. "Maybe."

You laugh. "Down the hall, first door on your right."

"Right. Gotcha! Thanks, Honeybun. Oh, one more thing?"

"What's that?"

His expression shifts, eyes dripping with fondness as he looks you over. "I love you."

Your heart swells, smile unwittingly stretching your cheeks at the confession. "I love you too, Izuku."

#midoriya izuku x reader #bnha x reader #smut #not sfw #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #my fics #bnha reader insert #midoriya izuku x reader smut #bunny!izuku #bunny!izuku x reader

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chainofclovers · 3 years

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Ted Lasso 2x1 thoughts

Running out of time to capture my thoughts on 2x1 specifically before 2x2 airs, so here's a mess of things I thought about in response to the season 2 premiere. (Heavily informed by conversations w/my wife and some friends and family both within and without the fandom, discord conversations, things I've read on tumblr, reviews in the press, and, yes, my own little brain when it's alone.)

I really liked it (actually, I loved it)

Because a lot of people--myself included--binged s1 in a single go, I think a lot of people came away from that (beautiful almost perfect) season of TV with a sense that it was just this continuous five-hour explosion of feelings-y goodness with a very clear thesis statement: Make The Audience Happy. But obviously there's a lot of complicated stuff being set up within those five hours of TV, with intentional dividing lines and transitions between the episodes. I know some people watched 2x1 and felt frustrated because it didn't "feel like Ted Lasso" but I didn't feel that way. What I did feel, by contrasting 2x1 with all of s1, is that the atmosphere in s1 wasn't so much an audience-centric feel-good make-em-laugh kind of thing so much as a reflection of the gradual feeling of settling into home as Ted finds his place in Richmond and at AFC Richmond and in letting go of things (marriage) for the first time, and Rebecca, who's majority owner of the damn club but doesn't have a place within it, goes on a parallel community-locating journey. So the intensely warm, comfortable, feelings-y viewing experience is really just a reflection of what it was feeling like for pretty much every character with the exception of Rupert and Bex to carve out a more comfortable, honest, warm place for themselves.

But the challenges of relegation, the specters of the past, the longing any character (any human) has for more, and the mental health issues that come along for the ride meant that 2x1 needed to feel uncomfortable. They create that atmosphere by riddling 2x1 with so many jokes and references that it feels chaotic, overstuffed. The football season isn't going horribly, but it's WEIRD, and everyone is uncomfortable, and Ted doesn't know how to deal with the discomfort within himself so he's relying on the things he knows: references, anecdotes, strung-together wisdom. He clearly plans the Hank-the-dog speech in advance of the press conference, and the tongue-in-cheek "wow, this is so profound" expressions on the journalists' faces are hilarious to me because it's like we're watching them react to a man who's about to lose it and is in the final moments of being able to control the narrative about his team before someone from the outside will have to come in.

I'm obsessed with a tag @ratherembarrassing put on a TL reblog: "This is a show of soliloquies." I loved Ted's manufactured yet thematically necessary speech. I loved that Rebecca basically blacks out at a coffeeshop and tells John all about the messages (harmful or at least profoundly still-in-progress) she's been processing about intimacy and safety. [Side note: it's so perfect that she's still afraid to feel safe. It's like, "If I feel safe, what am I missing about the situation that's going to come back to hurt me?" OOOOF.] I feel like these moments where characters kind of speechify and the audience matters but the audience also does not matter just reflect the overall atmospheric stuff the show does. Like, it's more important to make us feel how it feels than to construct a moment of hyper-realistic dialogue. I get why it can be jarring but I'm into it.

The dog. Welp. A dog died right away. The special effects looked weird. I love dogs, I'm not a monster, but I was also just...not emotionally torn up about Earl at all. It's a catalyst. It's a very quick way to kind of bloop the entire world of Ted Lasso into a skewed and uncomfortable place where these characters absolutely need to reside until they can figure out how to attend to their own mental health and healing with the same focus and compassion they apply to their friendships with other people.

I'm obsessed with how much everything is going to HURT. Like, Ted walked in and Rebecca said she wished he was Keeley and then she didn't start eating the biscuits right away?!?

The biscuits are such an emotional crutch in s1 and SO MUCH of Rebecca's headspace is taken up with destroying something Ted is starting to love, destroying Ted, but also being there for him and feeling seen by him in a truly unique way, so I kind of love the psychic shift here, where all this emotional stuff has happened between them but to move forward they're going to have to learn some new conversational skills. Like girl talk.

The nail polish. I love everyone. I love the nail polish. I love that Ted was late to practice because of it. I love how much he wants other people to need him because it's so clear that he got his feelings hurt like 30 times in 2x1 and doesn't even fully realize it.

I love Dr. Sharon Fieldstone. I love that everyone but Ted very clearly understands the value of having a sports psychologist around. I love that her introduction is not about having to sell the players on the fact that they should talk to someone, but rather about Ted's discomfort over his own leadership abilities and the conflict this could create. It's so good. I'm so excited about it.

Beard and Ted in the pub! All people are different people! Ahhhhhh! Thank God For Beard (TGFB). TGFB is probably going to be my personal motto while watching this season of adorable and emotionally wrenching and ambitious television.

OK, I feel better now that I have this chaotic list out of my brain and onto tumblr. Should that make me feel better? I do not know. I do know that I'll probably try to do this for every episode because watching it week by week is going to drive me insane and I would really like to have some kind of record of the distinct-to-episodes yet cumulative viewing experience before I'm able to take in the full season (and the full series so far) as a whole.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #meta by me #a lesbian watches ted lasso #ted lasso 2x1

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mindibindi · 3 years

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Beyond disappointed in Ted Lasso. What were they thinking?!

The writing is a complete betrayal and insult to Rebecca’s character and Hannah’s skills as they’re being seriously underused. It’s also insulting Sam’s character.

Hoping someone pulls Rebecca’s head out of her ass tbh. Sam shouldn’t be getting caught in the crossfire of her looking for romance. I know he showed up at her doorstep but she still should’ve turned him away, and not even messaged him in the first place.

Hey, I'm with you, Anon, though we do seem to be in the minority. Sam is definitely not blameless here, he is also in the wrong. But if one of them is more in the wrong, it is Rebecca. I can't speak to whether her head has left her arse as yet because I have quit watching (at least for now). I hear she called it off with Sam in the most recent ep, though not because of any major crisis of conscience or because anyone in her inner circle expressed any reasonable reservations in response to her bad behaviour. And to be honest, I'm not sure we should need to hope and pray that Rebecca's precocious god-daughter, her slimy ex-husband, or the brutal British press will act as a moral compass on this ill-advised relationship. Both Rupert and the press have been set up to some extent as the villains of the piece. And a 14 year old should never have to school her elders on what is and isn't acceptable. Nora's needs have already been neglected by Rebecca for far too long.

If a moral position is to be taken on this, it needs to be taken by the show (because stance matters) and/or by its characters. But the show has for the most part depicted this relationship as ill-advised but ultimately hot, sweet, funny and romantic. As for the characters themselves, Sam has shown at least once that he has some moral backbone but seems to be adorably clueless when it comes to fucking his boss who keeps trying to set boundaries with him. Meanwhile, Rebecca's whole arc in s1 was about learning not to misuse her power for her own selfish ends. In season one, she misused her power within the club in order to exact revenge. In season 2, we have seen her misuse her sexual power, though I still cannot see to what end. I'm a bit at a loss as to what exactly she gets out of this 'relationship' but then I'm a grown woman so I have absolutely no interest in sleeping with a Harry Potter enthusiast barely out of his teens. I couldn't think of anything less sexy and more ick. I was certainly hoping for better character development for her this season.

As to what the writers were thinking, obviously I was not in the writer's room, but I would guess that they were thinking that any drama is good drama, people are stupid and fan devotion will trump any meaningful critique. In other words, they were thinking exactly how every other television writer thinks, despite the fact that this show posited itself as 'not like other TV shows'. This, to me, is where the blame really lies. Not with the characters or with the actors who are doing their best to sell this ludicrous turn of events. It must be noted, however, that both actors were completely blindsided by this relationship that had supposedly been so cleverly foreshadowed. Newsflash: if the people actually living these stories did not see this coming then you haven't foreshadowed shit. Sure, there were a handful of people that paired Rebecca with Sam but this does not constitute proof either. Fans have free-range to imagine and re-imagine characters. In some cases this may extend to imagining relationships between characters who have barely, if ever, interacted. There may be little to no evidence that these characters have even clocked each other's existence and some fans will still ship it. The existence of a handful of shippers does not legitimise such a problematic and divisive plotline making it onscreen.

But wait!, you might argue, this may not be a case of a popular show seeing just how far they can stretch fan devotion. This may not be a case of fan service to a handful of shippers. After all, the creators mapped out the entire three-season arc of Ted Lasso before they even pitched it to Apple. This was their brilliant plan all along! To which I would say: then maybe they should've rethought their second act based on people's strong reactions to their first. Ted Lasso was touted as the show we all needed in 2020. The writers and creators have all marveled at the chord it struck considering it was conceived prior to the pandemic and all the chaos it wrought. And while there is something to be said for having/sticking to a creative vision, there is also something to be said for being flexible and responsive to your audience and the cultural zeitgeist with which you're engaged. Season 1 of Ted Lasso told its story so gently, without creating distrust, division or unnecessary anxiety. It did not treat its audience like a gaggle of stupid lemmings to be led over a succession of narrative cliffs. THIS is what I mean when I say the show has broken with its brand. And look, this whole dark forest thing would be okay if the narrative arc was as well-crafted as s1. Season 1 gave us meaning, cohesion, comfort, sense in a senseless time. It was an almost perfectly crafted season of television. And I kept the faith for 6 episodes, despite the first half of s2 being pretty damn wobbly. But the follow-up to this stellar debut has been less than extraordinary so yeah, perhaps they should've thought a little harder about what made s1 so special before throwing it all out the window.

But wait!, I hear the faithful say, you don't know how things will pan out yet! Wait until the season is over and everything will make sense! But -- wearily and once again, I say -- we should not need to wait until the end of the season to understand what the hell is happening. By this point (over halfway through the season and show) we should have a v clear idea of the show's themes and the characters' arcs. And tbf, from what I can tell there are some fab things happening in other aspects of the show that I wish I could watch and enjoy. But my biggest fear at this point is that they are going to use Sam to solve Rebecca's childlessness. That, like Rupert (because the parallel cannot be avoided), she will become pregnant with a young fling and the show's attitude to this relationship will ultimately be: oh well, it was a bad idea and didn't work out for them but it was all for the best in the end cos who can be mad about a cute lil baaaayyybbbeeee??!! If they do go down this path then I will definitely be abstaining from the rest of the show. I will simply recall my repeated viewings of s1 with fondness tinged with regret at just how badly they fucked up a good thing.

Ultimately, Anon, I think this may be a case of there simply not being a diverse enough perspective in the writer's room. I am not saying that every single woman or every single person of colour will necessarily object to this relationship. I am simply saying that women and people of colour will be more sensitive to the issues of gender and race that are relevant here but that have not been fully or sensitively acknowledged in the writing of this plotline. Neither am I saying that Rebecca is the first woman to sleep with a man much (much, much, MUCH) younger than herself or indulge in an ill-advised relationship. But the comparison with Rupert both works here and doesn't because Rebecca is not being written like a white woman, she is being written like a white man. Realistically, only a white man can engage in this kind of hugely imbalanced relationship seemingly without any major moral qualms or societal ramifications. Not to put too fine a point on it, but this kind of relationship is reserved for all the Bills and Joes and Brendans and Jasons out there -- not for the Rebeccas and definitely not for the Sams. We are way beyond the point in feminism where we believe that liberation is simply the right for a white woman to behave as badly as a white man. The truth is that whatever wealth, power and privilege Rebecca has, the rules are different for men and women. She will not be treated the same as Rupert if and when this affair is uncovered. She will be treated far more savagely than Rupert ever was and Sam will be treated far more savagely than Bex was. This is not an argument for the equal treatment of these two relationships. It is an argument against how the relationship between Rebecca and Sam has been envisaged, i.e. through the wrong perspective. In writing from a 'neutral' white male pov, the show has invisiblised all the many issues activated by this storyline and revealed a blindspot that was always there.

As much as I loved and still love season 1 of this show, it has definite blindspots when it comes to representations of race and gender. There are at least two moments in s1 that stand out for me as being so obviously written by a man. Not necessarily because of what they do but because of what they don't do: what is missed, absent, unacknowledged. I was willing to overlook such minor failings in a debut season for many reasons. But s2 seems to have exacerbated these minor flaws rather than correcting them. And here I can't help thinking of Tina Fey speaking of the diversification of the writer's room at SNL during her tenure as co-headwriter. This notoriously male-dominated environment only began to shift and produce better work when a greater diversity of minds, voices and persepectives was allowed in the room. In this richer environment, she notes, different jokes played differently. Different sketches made it to air. Different perspectives were represented and different performers were celebrated. I can't help wondering if this plotline would have made it to air if there had been a female writer, a writer of colour or both further up the chain of command to challenge the ideas of the straight white dudes in charge.

One of the reasons I didn't think Ted Lasso was for me was that it centred a straight, white, cis-het, able-bodied man who rose to a position he didn't earn. That is just not a pov I would normally choose for myself, especially now that there is such a rich array of alternative perspectives through which to view the world. But I think the show won a lot of females fans with its first season largely due to its portrayal of Rebecca. She is the first person we meet. She is arguably the protagonist of s1. And while she would have been figured as a villain in previous pieces, the show never took that stance with her (because again, stance matters). Other elements like the depiction of female friendships, all centred around Rebecca, made this show female-friendly viewing. But imo, the major reason this show won over female fans (this one, at least) is because, in this post-MeToo, post-TimesUp era, it stood up and said: domestic violence is not okay, we stand with women and all victims of abuse, we will defend you, we know words can hurt, we know it can happen to anyone, we know all about toxic masculinity, we do not take this lightly and we will support you in your healing. Needless to say, this is how women hope men will act when they speak of their most difficult experiences but it is not how they always do.

The shift away from Rebecca this season has however meant that the white male experience is more centred than it was in s1. Rebecca's journey to recovery, health and happiness has been trivialised and sidelined, reduced to a highly questionable sexcapade. Meanwhile, we get overwrought manpain at every turn. We get Beard wandering around London (no, I haven't seen it and no, I don't need to. We've all been raised on white dudes thinking they're genuises when they have a figurative wank all over our screens). We get NO queer represention at all. And the only other female characters on screen are in care/service roles to men. The father/son, mentoring and toxic masculinity themes are all still there but they're no longer balanced out by ANY other competing perspective. One of the reasons I was okay with Ted failing upwards in s1 was that he used his power and privilege to lift up others. He was the one in service. He used his enormous privilege for good, as anyone with such privilege must. (Admittedly, it could be argued that this is just another version of a white savior narrative).

My point here is that I'm not sure that peeking behind the mask at the sad clown is as revolutionary as some might believe. We love it because it's familiar. But this is a narrative with a long and problematic history. Do I believe in tearing down toxic masculinity in all its forms? You bet. Do I believe that patriarchy traumatises men as well as women and every other minority in existence? I mean...nowhere near as much, but absolutely. Do I believe in men expressing their feelings and going to therapy? Wholeheartedly. But I am also aware that 100 or so years ago, we were in a very similar place with our narratives. Everyone is looking for a recapitulation of modernism and frankly, this might be an indicator of just that. Whenever women and people of colour have demanded rights and recognition, there has always been a resurgence of tales about just how frickin' hard it is to be a white man. Minority genders and non-white people have never in western history been as visible or vocal as they are now. So forgive me (or don't, I don't care) if I critique a show not only for centering fathers, sons, boys and men but for blindly and boldly writing one of its only female characters and one of its only black characters as if their gender and race just do not exist. There are many other power differentials at play in this relationship, including age, experience, wealth and position, but race and gender are the two that patriarchy is most invested in invisiblising. So I don't care how brilliant they think they are, I will not trust the writing of a bunch of white dudes trying to tell me that race and gender are irrelevant.

#ted lasso #rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ask #yeah this one got out of hand

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lafox · 3 years

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RE:ID Rant! /SPOILERS/

I just finished watching Resident Evil: Infinite Darkness and made some scene pack which you can find here.

I’m not the biggest fan of putting my opinion out there on the internet but I'll try to write my opinion while still be careful.

NO HATE TO ANY CHARACTER LISTED BELLOW THANK YOU!

Anyhow, I need to talk about it!

First of all, amazing character design and rendering. All the characters looks amazing and I adore the little details, for example, Leon's little head twitch or look at the president’s facial details. I think we all agree that they aced in that department. (will talk more about that subject after character analysis)

Now, the plot... the plot.

Look in all honesty it was a nice plot but i felt it went a bit too fast, not enough build up and stuff. I don't have much to say on it, only a few default on the characters and why and how things happen but I'll talk about that through character analysis.

Okay, about our main character Leon.

He was badass, I'm so surprised he knew what to do in the submarine, honestly that was a good scene I was really anxious for him. He did care for the people around him but I didn’t get that sweet side of him like he had in RE2 or in DAM, I'm saying this because even if he saw Shen May’s brother, he didn’t have the empathy of his last wishes, like Shen May basically said: “He doesn’t want this to happen again and that why this *the chip* can help us.” And what annoys me the most and that both the ‘villain's’ didn’t deserve to die so the least he could do is to not make it *the virus* happen again.

I am revolted at Leon for not giving the chip to Claire, not even telling the president about this shit! LIKE BRO. Also denying Claire, thinking he knows best?! Excuse me but Claire literally interviews people, she knows the Press! Anyhow, Annoyed...

Now let’s talk about Claire.

My girl Claire! They made her a side character that didn’t have much to add only confirmation to our suspicions which is good yes, but it isn’t Claire’s job, she deserve a much bigger role in the RE universe! I get it, she was also a ‘side’ character in RE2 and Leon is the star but still tho! She did give #girlboss energy which I am LIVING for! She was stunning! her character design and CGI was beautiful and I've seen a lot of people saying that she is ‘ugly as shit’ as i quote. I’m sorry but she looks realistic and you are going to cry about it? She is around her mid-tweenies, maybe around 27 and you gonna tell me that her being realistic is ‘ugly as shit’?! Yeah nah sorry pal, go and like Shen May (no hate to her, she is gorgeous) then and not our OG Girl Claire!

Claire deserved a bigger role and she is smart, like she is fucking smart! She almost decoded everything before the agents came and kidnap her, one of many reasons she should’ve had a bigger role! (Also please, your hand in marriage Claire ilysm)

Next on the list is Jason.

Okay, I'm sorry but i am in love with him.

I’m sorry okay! He fits the dilf characteristics and I cant-

Anyhow back to analysis.

I feel horrible, he didn’t deserve to die, the man had serious mental illness and PTSD involved, they showed that but they killed him off. Why? Because he wanted to stop the virus from ever happening by his own ways? Even if it is a violent way, there is still, there was a logical and reasonable. Honestly i think and/or probably, a lot of people might relate to him and Shen Mei, because he has PTSD and mental health issues and Shen Mei lost someone close to her and they are both trying to make the world better, in their own way and for Capcom to kill them both is such a shame..

Jason is such a badass tho like.. damn~ He was really well written as a side character, like, I enjoyed when he was on screen (Maybe because i like him but whatever)

Last but not least, Shen Mei!

I’m gonna be real and probs a lot of people are not going to like this but she was the least prominent character for me, like, yes she stands out a bit but for at least 2 episode she is.. just there and having little dialogue. But i did enjoy her twist, i felt like all that nothing from her was worth in someway. She is definitely #girlboss *chef kiss* and i can relate to her on a deeper level. I enjoyed that she silent for 2 episode because i can relate that she doesn’t talk, that she only listen and observes. I enjoy how she will do anything to help the people she love and that think that's what make Shen Mei a great character! Overall i did enjoy her character and i think her side role is very well placed with her personality.

CGI and Rendering Rant

I need to talk about the amount of details in the male characters but lack of it for female characters... You can see how, The President, Jason or Leon have detail, you can see their pores on their skin, you can see their history and age through those CGI detail on their skin and others but.. Claire or Shen May, their skin is perfect. They do have a few details under her eyes but no pores, no small wrinkles, nothing. I think that's a shame. Shen Mei looks absolutely perfect, you cannot tell me that there is any default on her. I think that is marketing.. what I mean is that Shen Mei is an attraction for people to watch REID. She is absolutely stunning and has no default.

I was talking with a friend of mine that studies human biology and we were talking about those details, we went on the subject of the women representation and rendering and we both suspect makeup is involve. What i am saying is that Capcom doesn’t show those pores because : Makeup.

It can be a valid point. Exhibit A is Shen Mei eyelashes and slight makeup, she is meeting the President after all. So of course she would whip out some makeup. (I know i would.) Shen Mei eye Lashes are way longer longer than Claire’s which would go back to out theory of make up.

Photo comparation:

Claire in her hotel room.

Shen Mei in the submarine. You might think that it’s not convincing enough but keep in mind that Shen Mei is looking up as her head is downwards!

Coming back to skin. In the last two picture, yes, you can see pours and details of the face of Shen Mei but i want to talk about normal viewing of the two character VS male character same view point.

Photo comparation:

The girls, looking perfect (ily both sm)

Leon at the (almost) same camera leveling and depth and you see way more characteristic then other female character even when Leon and Claire are around the same age. But they did nail it when the camera was close on both women.

Adding a note that Claire does show a it of characteristics, more than Shen Mei and the we get people calling her ‘Ugly as shit’ for having a realistic face.

Maybe Shen Mei is younger, Probably and surely but I'm 18, i have facial characteristics. the only thing that is realistic is her beauty spot which is a really nice touch I love it.

Anyhow i think I'm done talking about it.

I enjoyed watching the show and i was excited for it! i hope everyone enjoyed it! Also I love all the character, I'm not bullying them or critic them for their physic or anything else! I’m just ranting about things that was ‘negative’ only because i enjoyed so many aspect of it that the post would be longer aahh.

A few positives I will list are:

Camera angles (immerced)

Character movement (No awkward movement or glitch)

Motion blur (None sickening blur, right place Motion blur)

Lighting (Accurate lighting, not forgetting lighting through hair, ear etc)

Animation (Overall fucking amazing like holy shit)

Tension (Performed very well through animation and plot)

Emotion and facial expression ( I could write a whole essay on that, that’s how well they did it)

I think that's it :)

I hope you enjoyed me rambling on about this, i will write soon I've just had a holiday! scheduled writing around the end of next week!

-Chlo

#resident evil #resident evil infinite darkness #re #leon s kennedy #claire redfield #jason #shen mei

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Five

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.

While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.

Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.

Chapter 5

Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.

Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.

Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”

His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”

“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”

Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”

Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”

“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”

Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.

"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!

"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.

"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.

Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.

The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.

"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."

"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.

Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"

"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.

She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.

"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”

Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!

"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.

"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"

Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.

Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."

This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.

Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.

"Oh shit!"

°°°

A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.

Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.

"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.

"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"And you are...?"

Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."

Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.

Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.

"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."

"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."

"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"

Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.

"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.

Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“

Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."

"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.

"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.

“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.

A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”

Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.

°°°

“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.

"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."

"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."

Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."

Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."

"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"

"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."

The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"

What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.

"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.

°°°

He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.

“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”

Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.

“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”

Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”

If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.

°°°

Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!

“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.

With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”

“No, the charges were dropped.”

Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.

As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."

Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.

"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.

With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."

Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.

With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"

"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.

Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.

Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.

“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.

“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”

Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“

Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.

As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.

He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”

“Tenders and fries.”

Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.

Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.

Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.

Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.

“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”

°°°

There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.

°°°

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #henry cavill fluff

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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 16

This is actually really sad, because how badly do we want to see this kid actually shoot Wen Zhuliu? I mean, they even go into hearing Jiang Fengmian’s words echoing in his mind. It’s the perfect setup for some heroic act that just doesn’t happen. It’s weird how even though I know what happens, I’m like, maybe this time it won’t! I mean, it’s good all this happens, because I like what it does to the characters, but it’s still hard to watch. I think this part is probably the bloodiest part in the entire show. Don’t quote me, but it’s pretty bloody.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, it’s also really sad that Jiang Fengmian has this heroic entrance only to be cut down seconds later. It’s easy to fall into a pattern of the good guys win, but that’s not how this story really works. The line between good and bad is thin and warped and blended together, and who we think is good doesn’t always come out on top. But again, if Lotus Pier hadn’t fallen, how would Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian have turned out? What would have happened to Jiang Yanli? I like how these events set into motion so much growth for these characters, and it’s not always positive growth either.

Ugh, I hate it. I hate it! Seeing all these men, women, children, who have been ruthlessly murdered by the Wen Clan—it’s just horrible. And from Wei Wuxian’s perspective, these people were his only family. This was the place that had taken him in when he was very young—it’s the only home he really remembers. And in a matter of hours, it was taken completely away from him. Obviously he’s angry—very angry—and upset. And whatever he feels, it’s only amplified in Jiang Cheng, who is already more emotional and quick-tempered. Not to mention, those are his actual parents, who he loves very much. Of course, his first reaction is to want revenge, which Wei Wuxian temporarily manages to talk him out of.

I like that we get Madam Yu’s perspective throughout this part. I like that she was the one who staunchly defended her home, and I like how she was the last man standing. As horrible as all this is, I get a warm feeling from seeing how she really does care about her family and her husband. I think it’s important that we get to see this before she dies, so that we can see that yes, there was some good in her. She loved her home, her clan, and her family enough that she would die for them. And I really like that she dies by her own hand on her own terms. She got to take that away from the Wens.

And we’re back to this again. It isn’t enough to have the Wen Clan to blame for what happened to his parents and Lotus Pier—no. Jiang Cheng seems to believe deep down that if Wei Wuxian hadn’t helped Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan, things would be different: his parents would still be alive and Lotus Pier would be fine. Of course, that’s not true. The Wens would not have ever stopped. They wanted to lord over all the clans, even the Yunmeng Jiangs. But Jiang Cheng needs to blame someone and who better than Wei Wuxian? And after this point, he holds this grudge forever. Everything else just compounds upon this event.

And Wei Wuxian again just takes it. He doesn’t argue that the Wens would have done it anyway, he doesn’t try to defend himself at all. He must know that when Jiang Cheng makes up his mind, that’s it—there’s no changing things. I’m guessing by the time the morning rolls around, Jiang Cheng has already decided to seek revenge immediately, against Wei Wuxian’s advice. Again, we have a contrast of someone who is very analytical (Wei Wuxian) and someone who’s very emotional (Jiang Cheng), and Jiang Cheng ends up paying for it. And that’s his decision, even though he tries to place that blame on Wei Wuxian.

While Jiang Cheng is feeling sorry for himself, Wei Wuxian is the first to mention Jiang Yanli, who is still waiting for them. Of course Jiang Cheng has just gone through someone extremely traumatic—I don’t expect him to be on top of things, but I appreciate how level-headed that Wei Wuxian is able to be, given that the experience was also traumatic for him. Again, more contrast between the two characters. And not only contrast between those two, but look back at what happened at the Cloud Recesses and how Lan Wangji dealt with his own loss. He did not give up and shut down, like we see Jiang Cheng doing. He understood that life must go on. Was he upset that his brother was missing? Of course he was! Was he horrified by what happened to his home? Fuck, yes! But he didn’t get the opportunity to wallow in self-pity and depression like Jiang Cheng is. He had no one to support him like Jiang Cheng does. Jiang Cheng has a ton of people around him right now, in comparison, yet he behaves as if he’s alone. He lashes out emotionally, he recklessly goes back to Lotus Pier, abandoning his sister, who’s sick and alone. I don’t really care what he ultimately does to save Wei Wuxian, because I think it was clear that he was ready to die anyway. The outcome would have been the same for him, so distracting the Wen guards wasn’t really the selfless act that CQL kind of makes it out to be, albeit under the veil of Jiang Cheng’s memory.

Ugh, breaks my heart. Also irritates me that Wei Wuxian has to be the one to tell Yanli what happened. Like, can’t Jiang Cheng do it? Grow a pair and tell your own damn sister what happened to your parents and your home? Sorry, but I’m endlessly frustrated by him, no matter how realistic that response is. If I were Yanli, I’d want to hear that from my brother. But Jiang Cheng has basically checked out at this point. And I can’t imagine what’s going through Jiang Yanli’s mind. Her parents are dead, her home has been destroyed, her brother is distraught, and then she falls ill. She’s the oldest, she’s the one who should know what to do (whether or not she has any authority to do it)—this must be so difficult to feel like she needs to be strong for her two younger brothers, but to be completely falling apart emotionally.

Look at the physical distance here. It’s quite interesting, really, and good cinematography to show that chasm between them. It’s not just a physical gap but an emotional one as well. You have Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli, who just want to get out of danger so that they can figure out what to do next. And then you have Jiang Cheng, who just wants revenge. Even if it wasn’t obvious already, this scene shows how far apart they are from each other. It’s actually really cool.

I just feel that the only thing that was holding them all together was Wei Wuxian. He is taking his promise to Madam Yu and Jiang Fengmian very seriously. This is not a game to him—he will do anything to keep them safe. That is his only purpose right now. Prior to episode 15, I think Wei Wuxian brought up Lan Wangji at least once per episode, whether Lan Wangji was there or not. That name has not passed his lips even once. Jiang Cheng has said it a few times, I think because blame game, of course, but Wei Wuxian is not even thinking about Lan Wangji. His focus right now is to get Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli to safety. Imagine if it were only Jiang Cheng and Yanli right now—if you take Wei Wuxian out of the picture, how do you think they would behave? I mean, realistically, Jiang Cheng would already be dead, because no one would have stopped him from going back to Lotus Pier that night. So thank god Wei Wuxian is here, right?

Look at his vacant expression. Has he even heard Wei Wuxian’s instructions? Probably he has but he just ignores them. His sister has a fever, and he leaves her alone in the inn. He abandons them both. And for what? What does he hope to accomplish alone? His parents and the entirety of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect couldn’t take down the Wens, so how does he expect to? I understand where he’s coming from—I am protective of my family as well—but what he needed to do was step back and wait, and by not doing that, he ruined his own life.

Besides wangxian, I think my favorite relationship in this series is the one between Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian. There’s something so sweet and so beautiful and so loving about two people who aren’t quite family but aren’t not family either. There is so much unconditional love between them that no matter what either of them does, the other will continue to be there. It’s like the relationship that Wei Wuxian could have with Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng does not love Wei Wuxian as much as Wei Wuxian loves him. For a long time, I think Wei Wuxian’s love for Jiang Cheng was unconditional, but he learns over time that it can’t be that way with Jiang Cheng. But his relationship with Yanli is so different. She treats him like family, treats him like a little brother, and she protects and defends him in front of those who would wish to harm him. It’s just very sweet and tragic, of course.

So, this is an important moment. For obvious reasons, of course, but also because Wei Wuxian could have killed Wen Ning, but didn’t. He immediately accuses him of participating in the massacre and goes on to say, “I shouldn’t have saved you.” And Wen Ning responds that he just got to Lotus Pier and was not a part of the massacre at all. And here’s the big part: Wei Wuxian backs off. He believes him and he lets him go. This is important because it shows that Wei Wuxian can see past the clan, past the outfit, past the bloodline. Someone who can’t do that is Jiang Cheng. This is just one of those moments that shows you what kind of person Wei Wuxian really is, and if you remember he made a big point of praising Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen for teaming up together and for not being affiliated with any clans. So here we can see how Wei Wuxian has a penchant for not conforming to the orthodoxy of any of the clans—of the very fact that you need to be in a clan at all. People are more than the clans they are a part of, people are more than their blood relatives. Everyone gets to prove their own worth, regardless of their social status. This isn’t a big deal to someone with modern sensibilities, but within this world, it’s a big deal that Wei Wuxian trusts Wen Ning to help him and Jiang Cheng here. And in the book, he allowed Wen Qing to help them, and he doesn’t even know her. Book!Wen Qing is more awesome in my opinion, and her entrance in the story is great, because you don’t know if you can trust her. You have to trust Wen Ning too, just like Wei Wuxian—you’re taking the risk as well, as the reader.

One more thought: you can see why they’d form such a strong bong—two people who should by all rights be enemies, but instead they choose to work together to stand up to what’s wrong. This is what Jin Zixuan and Lan Wangji were doing in the cave, what Wen Ning has already done when he helped Wei Wuxian out against the dog. This is a bond of brotherhood more than anything that the Twin Prides of Yunmeng ever had. It’s a really nice message, honestly. I often don’t appreciate Wen Ning, but they do have such a nice relationship that’s based on nothing but mutual trust and respect.

I find this oddly funny, because Wen Zhuliu is so resistant and doesn’t want to drink, but Wen Chao is so insistent that he ends up doing it. And of course that’s the thing that puts all of them out of commission for the next few days (I think), allowing Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian to get Jiang Cheng and his parents’ remains out of Lotus Pier. Such a simple decision, but if it had not been made this way, Wei Wuxian would have certainly been captured/killed by Wen Zhuliu.

The juxtaposition here is pretty extreme: the clean-clothed dancing ladies in the background, with the body of (I think) Madam Yu in the foreground, hanging there. It’s so disturbing to think about having this feast to celebrate a victory (massacre) with dead bodies hanging around you. Just very creepy and eerie.

I’m flying through these for good reason. Not a lot to say, just getting through plot, and I want to get back to my fave Lan Wangji. Biased? Why, yes, I am.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

#wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #madam yu #jiang fengmian #wen ning #cql #the untamed #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #cql rewatch

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galacticnova3 · 3 years

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i want to hear 👀👀👀 it upsets me a ton when people treat nova like he’s evil hhhhghgh

I HAVE BEEN ENABLED.

OK SO. First of all, we don’t have any kind of indication of Nova’s moral leaning… in regular Super Star. HOWEVER, Super Star Ultra does give us an idea if you pay attention to Nova after Meta Knight makes his wish. Nova makes a very surprised expression, and one that I also wouldn’t say is a stretch to interpret as simultaneously worried. The latter point in particular is because of how you can see the white of his eyes, which generally represents a fear or concern sort of surprise vs just something unexpected. I mean look at him, if this doesn’t look like “are you sure? like really are you absolutely sure that’s what you want???” then I don’t know what does.

This is contrary to what an evil being would most likely do; obviously if you’re an asshole you’d want to just sit back and watch this evidently entitled blue bitch get his ass handed to him on his silver platter of a mask. After all, assuming Nova is evil also assumes he acts of his own accord in some way, and considering his level of power, it’s not like he’d have to be worried about his own safety in that situation we’re that the case. Basically, he had literally no reason to react like that if he didn’t care about someone’s safety besides his own.

Now, my second point is a bit more vague due to not being supported by dialogue or visuals but instead just understanding/connecting dots. Nova is, obviously, a clockwork star, and it can be assumed all/most clockwork stars function similarly. The only other one we see in the games is Star Dream… aka the Access Ark, considering they’re separate, but Star Dream is the sentient part, hence me referring to them in this case. Star Dream doesn’t seem capable of acting on their own originally; not until they take Haltmann’s soul and begin acting on their own perception of what would grant his wish to give his company prosperity. Even then, though, they’re still seemingly “locked in” to trying to complete that wish, even though they’ve not only become sentient, but can recognize that it puts them directly at risk.

Now, we’ve seen that exact same thing play out with Nova, in that he was still trying to grant Marx’s wish even though Kirby was killing him from the inside. Once again, to say Nova is evil implies he is in control of his own actions; if that were the case and he was just threatening Popstar because he’s a jerk and intentionally interpreted the wish that way, why not stop and interpret it a different way? After all the entire basis of this kind of morality requires him putting his own mean-spirited spin on the wish being made, so it’s not like he wouldn’t already have been just finding a way to bend it. Obviously an all-powerful asshole would not be able to continue being like that if they can’t also act in self-preservation when things go wrong.

That leads into my third point; based on what we’ve seen of Nova, he is at the very least not just self-centered(as he showed concern), and he evidently isn’t acting based on his own decisions, but rather his programming or equivalent. The latter point makes it difficult to realistically make him out to be evil, seeing as we haven’t seen him do anything evil that was his own choice. That’d be like saying a gun is evil because it was used to shoot someone. Both of those points do lend themselves to the neutral spectrum very easily; he does what he’s told, and doesn’t question it. If you want to be boring this is where you can easily ignore his obvious reaction and go “he’s not sentient”, and if you do that you get the bonus of knowing you have greatly disappointed at least one person. Also tbh the same goes for the evil interpretation imo; there’s literally so many characters like that already, ‘jackass genies’ is literally a trope. Why not do something new and interesting?

On that note, the first point also allows the argument that he could be on the good spectrum(not chaotic tho) if you squint really hard and overthink his one moment of expressed emotion. It’s a pretty tragic concept that I am admittedly extremely biased towards for reasons, but what if Nova is good, yet can’t refuse to grant bad wishes even if he wants to? Sure, he can be used for good as well, but someone like him would most certainly meet many more selfish people in his time(such as a certain jester) than good folks. It’s a lot easier to wish for money or power than for peace or comfort. It’d be like being a pacifist sword, to be honest; sure, maybe one guy would use you to make watermelon slices for kids or something, but most people would use you to do harm, and you have no control over that.

I’m sure that would get exhausting… Might explain his eternally tired look. Just waiting for the next summoning and hoping whoever gathers the stars isn’t doing so for nefarious reasons, but having no say either way. Finally some guy shows up and seems the noble sort, and then he makes the most dangerous wish imaginable. Despite how he’s become so accustomed to disappointment that he doesn’t even react anymore, because yeah yeah ok planet dominator #5018 it would be my luck that I meet someone else like you this summoning, he doesn’t hide his shock. Like damn this guy might straight up have his face impaled by a lance in the next two minutes, he knows that right? But no matter what happens, Nova can’t do anything about it.

Anyways because I want to try and reel this in somewhat, my last tiny point is that Nova is never fought directly. Star Dream Soul OS(the Access Ark part) has a whole external battle, an internal one with the pillars, and then the heart also attacks you directly. Nova? Nothing. He’s got some separate internal defenses that he probably doesn’t control (patas, volms, and dacoogas), but other than that you literally just break all of this old man’s ribs and subsequently induce a heart attack and paralysis. Nova never attacks or directly fights back, and Kirby never fights him face-to-face. I personally interpret this as Nova using what little control he does have to make himself easier to stop, even at the cost of his own life, because he never wanted to do something evil in the first place.

Actually I just thought of one other potential point. It’s at least sorta implied Nova was the one used to seal Galacta Knight. If that’s the case, why would he have been trusted to do so if he twisted wishes in purposely bad ways? Like that’s just an obviously terrible idea. Sure let’s leave someone who enjoys the suffering of others to keep this dangerous guy locked up, I’m sure nothing bad could come of that. Famous last words right there.

#asks #rambling #my headcanons #maybe I should make a rant tag tbh

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 3 years

Text

TWDG: The Final Season | Character Discussion | 1/2

Part 1 | Part 2

“Everyone’s counting on me to step up. Be the leader they need me to be... I really want to be that for them.”

So.... let’s talk about Marlon.

I mean, let’s really talk about him. Ever since I started this blog, some common questions I get revolve around Marlon- “How do you feel about Marlon?” “Do you think he deserved a redemption arc?” “Why do you think he was sent to Ericson?” “In your opinion, is Marlon a bad person?” and many others.

Some ask with expectations that I’ll express a distaste or hatred for him, while others ask with a more sympathetic approach. If you know me, if you’ve been here for a while, then you know that I do indeed like Marlon as a character, and today I want to talk about him from my perspective while playing this game.

And with that comes a seemingly unnecessary disclaimer, but one I feel I need to add in order to make it abundantly clear: I will be discussing MY thoughts, experiences, and feelings about Marlon within TFS and give my take on his character. Because we’re not the same person, you may have a different opinion or perspective on his character, you may disagree with something I say, and that’s perfectly okay. You’re entitled to your opinion as I am mine, and I do encourage you to join in on the discussion and express your thoughts about Marlon, but I also want to let you know that you can do that without attacking me or anyone else.

Really, this is pretty much me looking at Marlon’s role and arc within TFS, discussing points of his character that I find interesting, exploring the why’s and how’s of his actions, maybe coming up with a couple theories as to why he was sent to Ericson, and basically giving a lot of personal opinions of him. It’s a discussion meant in good fun, that’s all I’m saying.

Before we dive right in, I do want to thank @pi-creates for providing me with most of the screenshots used in this. I appreciate the help! If you haven’t already, go check out Pi’s blog for some of the best screenshots and model swaps in the TWDG community! Thank you, thank you!

[First and foremost, y’all are sleeping on Ray Chase’s performance as Marlon and it really shows]

“Looks like I was announced as Marlon, the central focus in this first episode of The Walking Dead Season 4 coming in a few weeks. I've been playing this series since the beginning, and it was a real honor to be a part of the canon. I hope you enjoy!“ - Ray Chase’s Twitter account | July 26, 2018

I want to start this off with praising Marlon’s voice actor, Ray Chase, for doing such a perfect job of bringing Marlon’s character to life. Every emotion and infliction feels genuine, and there’s isn’t a single moment where I don’t “see” Marlon, y’know? I mean that in the sense that every line delivered is believable and doesn’t break my immersion with, “Oof, they really used that take?”

I know we throw praise upon Melissa, Tayla, Sterling, and Gideon [and for good reason, they’re all fantastic, too!] but even with them there are a couple of lines that I notice have a lack of flow or sound just a bit off. I’ve played TFS how many times? And not once have I had that issue with Ray Chase as Marlon, so bravo to this man. Credit where credit is due, his performance is damn near flawless.

Especially in the confrontation scene at the end of Done Running. I’ll get into that scene as a whole later, but just looking at the performance and the intense, impactful emotion brought to that scene, just..... *chef kiss*

Thank you, Ray Chase.

[What’s up with your haircut, Marlon?]

“Uh, I look cool... I say, I look cool.”

Lemme talk a little bit about Marlon’s design- I think he looks great.

I love the little details in the Ericson varsity jacket he wears... including the fact that it looks just a tad bit too snug on him. Like, either the boy doesn’t have another jacket or he’s grown so attached to this one that he’s not willing to admit that he’s outgrown it a bit.

I’ve had a lot of people point out that it’s nice to see a teenage character in these games with actual acne since most media pretends that acne just doesn’t exist, and I agree. We all know that if this were more realistic, then everyone would have terrible, greasy, dirty skin but... y’know.

And y’know what? I like the mullet! It’s unique! And I choose to believe it’s a representation of Marlon’s past with bad decisions he’s too stubborn to admit were bad decisions... I mean, he’s had it since he was a kid and hadn’t grown it out or cut it off [to our knowledge, I suppose] sooo... there’s that.

Or maybe he does actually think it looks badass. Either way.

Hell, my biggest complaint about Marlon’s design is that I wish they kept more to this concept art attire:

Because Marlon looks super good in this concept art. I love the headband with the mullet and his clothes actually look more comfortable... but like, it’s fine. He still looks great in the game, his little jacket’s cool, bringing back the mullet...its fine. I’m just sayin’. He looks great.

[Marlon’s introduction in TFS]

“It's our little kingdom. I just do what I can to keep the peace. Wasn't always like this, though. There used to be a lot of us, but...you know how it goes.”

Let’s talk about how Marlon’s introduced.

We get our first look at him after Clementine and AJ crash their car during the walker attack. A bunch of arrows come flying, hitting walkers attempting to get ahold of them, and as Clementine glances over she sees a figure pulling AJ out of the car. And even though you can tell it’s Marlon, this closer shot from Pi-

-100% confirms that it’s him. Not that you had any doubt, but still.

What’s interesting, though, is that while snooping around for some insight about Marlon from the writers/devs, wandering around reddit, replaying the game myself, and even glancing over the all-knowing wiki that’s never wrong ever, it seems agreed upon that Marlon wasn’t alone, despite no one else being specifically mentioned to have helped Clementine and AJ.

Which makes sense that that’d be the case, but I did come across a handful of people who are pretty adamant that he was alone, which is an interesting take, though I disagree.

I’m pretty sure most people do, too. I mean, Marlon says, “It's good we found you when we did. It wasn't easy getting you two out of that wreck, and walkers were on the way.” So I don’t even think that was the writers’ intention of it being solely Marlon who saved them.

What’s funny is I came across a post Instagram [I know, the most legitimate source for info and thoughtful opinions] that was surprisingly trying to redeem/defend Marlon rather than chastise him by claiming he’s a hero who saved Clementine and AJ by himself.

The thing is, they’re both unconscious after the wreck, so unless Marlon has super-human speed to grab AJ, zip around the car to grab Clementine, and then uses super-human strength to carry both of them AND their belongings all while killing any threatening walkers coming after them with his bow... I’m gonna have to press [X] Doubt.

Besides, I like the idea of it being vague. I like to think that was the intention. “Who was Marlon with? A hunting party! You fill in the blanks!” That sort of deal.

With everything that we know about Marlon and the safe-zone, it does lead to questions about why he and whoever felt they had to go outside it to see what was happening. Marlon points out in his conversation with Clementine that they “had to work fast. I don't know what would've happened if we hadn't seen the smoke...” And later Violet mentions an explosion, so I think it’s safe to say that they heard the explosion and followed the smoke to the location.

If you don’t know about the raiders and the twins [like it’s your first time playing] then you probably assume that Marlon and his group were being kind in rescuing them, which I don’t doubt but it does make you wonder about things from Marlon’s perspective, y’know?

This is one of those “shhh, don’t think, just go with it” moments. If I had to give a reason, I’d say that the group he was with didn’t think twice about checking it out and even if Marlon did protest, he didn’t have much choice but to follow. Then, seeing that it’s Clementine and AJ, I believe he genuinely wanted to save them.

“All alone with the kid? Not a pleasant thought. I've seen some rough scenes. But that one would've been up there.”

We get our second and more official introduction to Marlon after Clementine escapes her dorm and confronts Tenn... and it’s pretty fucking good. I mean, everything from him being hidden in the shadows with his bow drawn, to the clear concern yet sternness in his voice as he assures Clementine they’re not going to hurt her and to put the knife down, to his sympathetic apology for scaring her is just an A+.

One thing this season does exceptionally well is introducing its characters. Marlon has such a confident yet chill way about him when you first meet that it’s actually disheartening to think that in two hours he’s gonna be pulling a gun and MURDER....

Sigh.

Let’s not jump that far ahead yet. I’m not ready.

What I find appealing about this next part is Clementine’s reaction to seeing the inside of Ericson for the first time and how taken aback she seems by it. I also love how easy and comfortable it is to talk with Marlon as they’re walking through the yard even though we just met him.

I enjoy that you can tell he’s trying to get a better idea of who she is without pressuring or overwhelming her and doing his best not to offend. And even when Clementine questions if he doesn’t think she can handle herself, he’s decent about apologizing and explaining that’s not what he meant. But he’s also not afraid to be upfront about AJ’s behavior since they brought him here, either.

He does come off as annoyed when talking about AJ being a handful. We don’t know how long Clementine’s been passed out or how long they had to deal with AJ after he woke up, so who knows how much of a little terror AJ was before they either dumped him with Louis or Louis decided to take him to the music room to chill... where he then bit Ruby.

Anyway, the first impression I got of Marlon is that he’s genuinely friendly, trying to help Clementine and AJ even if AJ’s been a nuisance, and he’s confident in the system he has in place for them. He is rather forward and proud about being the school’s leader when first telling Clementine.

Having played through the whole season several times and knowing how Done Running ends, it’s interesting to look at Clementine’s first conversation with Marlon with that all knowing perspective- knowing what he did to the twins, knowing that Brody’s involved and that Marlon’s going to eventually kill her, going to try and frame Clementine for the murder, knowing that he was planning on giving Clementine and AJ away...

I can definitely look at this conversation with a more skeptical lens and say he’s more so trying to sell the idea that he has everything under control in this kingdom for kids and he’s a proper leader with a system in place despite being so young with no adults around. But hey, that’s the natural progression- Ericson is a perfectly chill safe haven and the Ericson crew get along swell... except no, the cracks slowly begin to surface as the episode goes on until all hell breaks loose with Marlon at the center.

[Rosie is best girl]

“You said dogs brought back bad memories. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were so scared of them. But I swear, Rosie's not as frightening as she seems...See? She's harmless. She just needs to get to know you, is all. Here. I'll show you. Do you trust me? “

I’ll be completely honest- the thing that initially sold me on trusting Marlon the first time I ever played this episode was his relationship with Rosie.

If you know me, then you know that I love dogs. I have a pup named Piglet that I adore, I’ve grown up with dogs my whole life, and I have a huge appreciation and soft spot for animals. I’m one of those people that can’t stand others who are mean or cruel to harmless animals. It’s different if you’re hunting for food or if an animal attacks you and you’re defending yourself... but I’ve known people who have gone out of their way to hurt animals. I’m out in a country area with a lot of dangerous roads for wandering animals, and the amount of people I’ve driven with who’ll swerve to hit a squirrel, a cat, a dog because they enjoy it is too many. After those incidents, I cut those people out of my life. If you don’t have that love and appreciation in your heart, then I want nothing to do with you.

So when I saw that Rosie, while the school’s dog, is more portrayed to be Marlon’s dog above everyone else, I remember thinking to myself, “Okay, I trust him. He clearly loves this dog, wouldn’t mistreat her, and that’s a step in the right direction.”

While I wasn’t skeptical of him and his intentions before, it really was that natural relationship he held with Rosie that kind of sealed the deal for me- “I like Marlon! He’s probably going to die because he’s the leader and they never last but when it does happen, I’m gonna be super upset about it.”

And well, to be fair... I was super upset when he died, just more so than I originally planned because there was also that element of betrayal mixed into the pain, y’know?

Speaking of trust and Rosie- My second favorite Marlon scene is the office scene. But let’s talk about the Rosie bit specifically. After Tenn leaves and Rosie comes in, she scares Clementine and brings back those traumatic memories of when Sam attacked her.

Marlon comes in and cools the situation, and I love the way he talks to Clementine in this moment.

I love that he doesn’t immediately turn to Clementine like, “What’d you do?” but recognizes that she’s afraid of Rosie due to her previous experience, one that he remembers her mentioning. He also knows how well trained Rosie is to recognize scents and people, which explains why she’s behaving that way- she doesn’t know Clementine.

I feel like I’m using this word a lot, but Marlon’s approach to helping Clementine with her fear of dogs feels so genuine. He holds his hand out and waits for her to accept, and if she does, he walks Clementine through what to do, beginning Clementine’s bond with Rosie.

“Get down on her level. Let her get your scent. It's okay. She's not gonna hurt you.”

It’s incredibly sweet and humanizing to see Marlon like this.

The best part about this scene, though, is that you can reject Marlon’s offer and he won’t be upset.

“No problem. I'm not gonna pressure you.”

And he doesn’t. He doesn’t get annoyed, he doesn’t press, no questions asked, and he doesn’t say anything to make Clementine feel bad for her decision. He respects that she isn’t ready to get close with Rosie.

The reason I love this is because how many times have we made decisions in this game, big and small, and had the other characters get annoyed or try to guilt us? “Oh, you don’t want to bond with the dog? Rosie’s the best, everyone loves dogs! What’s wrong with you?” None of that here. That’s something I appreciate about Marlon in this moment.

It shows that when he wants to, he can listen and understand those around him... something he clearly struggles with when it comes to certain members of Ericson.

I’ll swing back around and talk about that entire scene in a bit, but one last thing about Rosie... can I just say how heart breaking it is to hear her whine at Marlon’s funeral? Solidifying that she was definitely Marlon’s dog more than anyone else’s? And the way Rosie lays on his grave several times in episode 2?

Oof.

[Ericson’s perception of Marlon prior to the final confrontation and after]

“...when the world went to shit, he bailed. All the other adults did. Left us behind to fend for ourselves... Now it's just us kids left.”

I want to touch on how the Ericson crew seem to view Marlon as a leader before and after the final confrontation.

When looking at and discussing a character, it’s important to not just focus solely on them. You can gather a lot about a character based on how others respond and perceive them.

Not everyone expresses something towards Marlon within Done Running. Y’know, like Omar or Ruby, for example. Though we do get a bit more from them after Marlon’s death, their perception of him is different now that they’ve learned what he’s done and witnessed his murder.

So we don’t know how Ruby, Omar, Willy or Mitch viewed his leadership prior to those events, y’know? It’s safe to assume that they’re fine following him as a leader since they’re background characters at this point and make no objections to his leadership at any time before the confrontation. But, after learning the truth, they turned against him.

Then things get complicated when Marlon’s murder traumatizes them.

What a mess.

But for this section, there are two characters I want to get into specifics about. They’re worth talking about because they further Marlon’s character, but they’re not the most important, y’know? Characters like Louis, Tenn, and Brody will get their own sections.

The one I find most interesting among side characters is Aasim. Right off the bat, you get a feel for what his relationship is like with Marlon:

Marlon: “How'd it go out there?”

Aasim: “How do you think it went?”

Brody: “Be nice, Aasim.”

Aasim: “The safe zone's nearly dry. I could barely find enough for tonight. We're gonna have to scout out further if we want food for the winter.”

Marlon: “We'll talk about it later.”

Aasim: “Bullshit, we should talk about this right now-”

Marlon: “I said later, damn it!”

So... they’re not exactly besties. The game makes a clear point that Aasim is more vocal in his disagreements and concerns towards Marlon than the others. They even reiterate it when you talk with him later:

“He keeps pulling back the safe zone. We have fewer and fewer places to hunt. Which means we're gonna have fewer and fewer things to eat.”

No one else opposes Marlon like he does, not counting Brody in the basement since that’s a whole other thing and Brody will get an entire segment to herself later.

It’s pretty clear that this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, but because Marlon’s in a place of power, Aasim doesn’t have much choice but to go along with it. Because no one else is speaking up, he doesn’t have anyone to back him up, and you can tell he goes with it reluctantly. He also voices annoyances when it comes to how Marlon treats Louis if you go hunting.

Knowing this, you can infer that Marlon doesn’t want to hear what Aasim has to say, and he doesn’t appreciate someone questioning his leadership. When Aasim steps in Marlon’s path and says, “Bullshit, we should talk about this right now-” what does Marlon do?

He shoves his shoulder into Aasim’s as he pushes past, and in a louder, commanding tone, replies, “I said later, damn it!” which leads to Aasim glaring after him... but he doesn’t pursue. Marlon has a hard time with someone like Aasim and his response is to shut him down rather than stop, listen to his concerns, and address them.

That’s something Marlon struggles with as a leader- control and listening. Control over his temper and anger, listening and addressing the concerns of the people he swears to protect.

The reason I bring this up is because Aasim is our first indication that the image Marlon was giving off previously isn’t as spotless as he wants us to believe. Aasim plants a seed of doubt, y’know? He gives an argument that the player can get behind.

“Yeah, why not extend the safe zone? If food is really as bad as you say it is, then what other choice is there? Just be extra cautious so no one gets hurt,” which can then lead to thinking, “Why is Marlon so insistent about the safe zone? Is he hiding something?”

Once that seed is there, it grows.

Now as for how Aasim’s view of Marlon changes during and after the confrontation, you can see that he’s one of the few that wants to hear Clementine’s side to things, and he steps forward after Louis/Violet intervenes.

Then after Marlon dies, Aasim is... well, he’s rather neutral? And I say that meaning he’s more in a middle ground between Louis and Violet, who are on extreme opposite ends. Aasim isn’t okay with Marlon’s death, nor is he okay with AJ killing him, but he can see that kicking Clementine and AJ out isn’t the best solution. Hence why he voted for them to stay.

You can see he’s still angry at Marlon for what he did during the funeral scene, but the game doesn’t care to show more beyond that. Which, in my opinion, was a missed opportunity on their part.

And because I’m me, I also want to add that this perfectly sets up the idea of Aasim taking over once Marlon died and the writers shot themselves in the foot for wasting him like that. Good job.

Now let’s talk about Violet. People love when I do that.

Marlon and Violet don’t interact too much prior to the confrontation. The most we see them together is during the card game, and they’re chill. Violet makes fun of his hair, he says he looks cool, they’re decent to each other, it’s all good. They’re on friendly terms.

Which I do find it interesting that she seems like she’s chill with Marlon, but she has such a hard time with Brody. Granted, that’s because she was supposed to go with them but asked Brody to cover her, and then when the twins died, she felt guilty. But you’d think that she’d also have some issues with Marlon, given that he was also there and, like Brody, unable to save them.

You could argue that because Violet and Brody were friends before it had a stronger effect, whereas she and Marlon weren’t ever that close, so it didn’t strike as bad, y’know?

Though this does kind of get explained later if you choose to stick with Violet through ep4. Well, sort of? A little? She tells you:

Violet: “...I remember how Marlon described it, what we were gonna turn Ericson into. It's not the way any of us pictured it.”

Clementine: “How did you picture it?”

Violet: “I guess I couldn't. I just listened to what Marlon said. How it would be a home, a real one. But I couldn't really wrap my head around it.”

And when she talks about people who cared about her that she pushed away, she does list Marlon as one of those people, which is super interesting given all the loathing she’s done towards him after the truth came out.

It could be that in the past, she saw Marlon as the leader and why would he lie? He’s the one who stepped up, promised that they’d made Ericson into something special, into a brand new home... what reason does she have to distrust him?

So when she finds out the truth... well, that betrayal completely shatters everything she has for Marlon, going as far as for her to believe that AJ was justified in what he did and shit talking Marlon in front of his mourning best friend.

So her reaction to Marlon after this makes sense, but what does this tell us about Marlon himself?

Again, depending on how you view him, you can look at this idea of Marlon being kind to Violet and them being on friendly terms after what happened to the twins a few different ways- Marlon was manipulating Violet solely for his sake, or Marlon felt guilty that something he did hurt her this bad and tried to make Violet feel better, or both.

I think it was both. After the twins died, we all know the amount of guilt Marlon carried with him, so having to be confronted with the fallout of that in the form of someone like Violet... he had to be careful. I don’t doubt that he cared about Violet or that he tried to reach out to her, but he also had to protect himself for the sake of maintaining his leadership and control of Ericson. So, of course, he had to lie to her which manipulated her feelings about him and the situation.

I believe Violet recognized it, too. When she says they should’ve asked more questions about what happened, I think that’s her being more pissed with herself for trusting Marlon and not questioning him further, for taking his word for it.

I’ve come across theories suggesting that Marlon actually manipulated Violet into placing blame onto Brody rather than him, which is why she is on friendly terms with him but not so much Brody. And that’s a valid interpretation. There isn’t any solid evidence of this within the game to suggest either way, but I can definitely see how someone would come to that conclusion. Especially after the confrontation.

Now let’s touch on Violet if you appeal to her, because Marlon does something that makes me go “Hmmmm...”

Clementine, when she appeals to Violet, say, “Violet you have to believe me.”

To which, Marlon immediately steps in and says, “You don't. You met her, like, two days ago!”

He doesn’t even give her a chance to speak.

With Louis, he’s so overly confident that he has him completely wrapped around his finger that he doesn’t feel the need to say anything. He feels he has control over Louis. But with Violet, he feels his control might not be as strong, so he needs to remind her that she just met Clementine, whereas she’s known him for years- something he uses against the whole group.

And when Clementine tries to talk to her, Marlon takes a low blow and it’s super shitty.

“Don't let her get in your head. Hey, what would Minnie want you to do? She was my friend, too. So was Brody.”

He’s desperate to crawl out of the grave this situation has put him in that he’s willing to go this low, doing everything he can to make sure Violet doubts Clementine... and y’know, whose to say this is the first time Marlon is using Minnie to manipulate her? And when it doesn’t work, he gets frustrated like “Violet being difficult. Why am I not surprised?” which could suggest that it hasn’t always worked.

It goes back to what I was saying- Marlon tried to get close to Violet and she never let him. She was difficult to be around after the twins died due to her grief and Marlon struggled with that.

When he finally comes clean, this is where the real shift happens with him and Violet. You can see the hatred burning on her face every time the camera pans over to her now that she’s felt betrayed by him and his actions.

Right before Marlon dies, if you choose to say nothing, Violet will step forward and start saying that he doesn’t get to stay, but gets cut off when AJ shoots him.

All in all, Violet is a big case against Marlon and a showcase of how far his manipulation as gone within Ericson.

[Marlon’s office and foreshadowing of motivations]

“Whenever someone goes outside the safe zone, bad shit happens. People die or disappear. I just... I could really use the help, Clementine. Taking care of these kids, it's not easy. I'm worried that if I don't figure something out, if...if I don't fix our food situation... I can't lose anyone else. We've already lost so much. Friends, siblings... I can't let another kid die. It could break us.”

Swinging back around, let’s talk about the rest of the scene in the office.

First off- it’s implied that Marlon uses the office as a bedroom given the mattress on the floor and some of his personal belongs laying about. Like the photo he keeps of him and Louis.

The bed isn’t for Rosie, we assume, since we later see her sleeping outside while chained up. This might be just because they wanted Rosie present for the confrontation scene but didn’t want her loose, so they put her outside when you’d think that she’d sleep inside with everyone else.

Or, maybe she just prefers to be outside when the weather’s nice, or they keep her as a guard in case something were to happen, that way she can alarm them.

Anyway, why does Marlon potentially sleep in his office rather than in a dorm? Or does he have a dorm that he’ll sleep in, but keeps the mattress there just in case?

Well, a show of authority, for one. Even if he does keep a dorm room, it’s likely that he made the office his own as a way to be like “The headmaster is gone, this is my office now. I’m in charge.”

Which makes sense.

And when you think about what Louis tells us about Marlon having all these sleepless nights and tough calls, it’s not hard to imagine him spending late nights in his chair going over different plans and stressing over the food situation/safe zone, as well as letting the guilt of the twins weigh on him to the point were he’s too exhausted to even leave.

Moving on to the actual conversation between him and Clementine. He does show a vulnerable side to her, which I like. He can feel the pressure he’s under and sense the loss he’s suffered. But...like before, looking at this knowing what I know, it’s not hard to see certain things in a different light opposed to what you’d see as a new player.

What’s interesting, though, is while I do enjoy this conversation and the bits of insight it gives to Marlon’s character, there is this subtle, slightly off undertone of the whole scene after the Rosie bit.

At this point, we’ve talked with Aasim and he’s planted the seed of doubt.

We’ve heard the story about the twins. Violet came and talked to us about it, we could visit their graves and learn that they died at this time last year. Anyone who has played any game or heard any story can pick up on that the twins are important. They’re not going to use these girls as some throw away lines. They’re going to come back one way or another.

We’re literally living in their dorm. The dorm that Marlon put us in. They’re heavily connected to Tenn and Violet, two important characters I previously discussed. Then, Violet comes barging into our room and talks about them some more.

It makes the gears turn, y’know?

And with Marlon being very insistent that they stay in the safe zone, it’s not hard to question the story about the twins. I went through and skimmed a couple play throughs on youtube to this scene and a lot of them were theorizing that the twins weren’t actually dead or something wasn’t right, some cracks are starting to show. Why else bring it up? Marlon being the one to push the dangers of the safe zone and everything with Aasim... it’s not hard to pick up that he might be hiding something.

The thing I find fascinating about people’s perception of Marlon is how they interpret his motivations when it comes to Clementine and AJ, and that can be tracked back to this scene.

We all know that he’s planning on giving them to the raiders if they come back. It’s a hard fact. Brody warned us before she died, and dialogue during the basement scene backs it up.

But the question I’m curious about is... when did this motivation begin?

When did Marlon decide that he would give Clementine and AJ to the raiders if they ever came back?

Because the text doesn’t tell us anything until Brody’s death, I feel like we all have a different moment where we believe that became Marlon’s secret motive, y’know?

In all my digging, I’ve read posts about this idea, people giving their thoughts on when they think Marlon secretly turned on us, or if he was ever really on our side.

One has people theorizing that Marlon saved Clementine and AJ with the intention of giving them away from the beginning.

So he saw taking these two in and earning their trust as an opportunity to save everyone else at the school [the people he cares about] rather than have to sacrifice anyone else like they did with the twins. Clementine and AJ were just a means to an end if the raiders came back.

Which is a rather sinister way to look at it and puts quite a negative spin on Marlon’s actions towards them - like how he’s willing to let them stay at the school not out of kindness but out of bad intentions, and every kind thing he ever did was to win over their trust so he could lure them out into the woods and do a trade if necessary.

The line “Take this. I don't want you gettin' lost.” gets pointed at a lot due to how Marlon says it, the infliction of it, and it’s theorized that the hidden meaning behind it is “Take this, if you get lost then I can’t make the trade.”

Same thing with “Just remember to stay in the safe zone. We need you to come back home in one piece.”

Which isn’t a wrong interpretation of this. You can totally look at this conversation between Marlon and Clementine as Marlon subtly foreshadowing his turn, or betrayal, at the end of the episode.

“...It's how we've kept ourselves from unwanted attention for so long. Well... For the most part, anyway.”

“I can't lose anyone else. We've already lost so much. Friends, siblings... I can't let another kid die. It could break us. Sorry. I'm just... There's a lot of pressure.”

“What, did you think I was gonna throw you out?“

Then there are the middle ground people who believe Marlon didn’t save Clementine and AJ with that intention in mind, but it started to appear as an option to him either a bit before or during the office scene. Y’know, it came as a passing thought that ended up lingering until he acknowledged it as a solution to a potential problem.

Again, pointing at the dialogue from before- him suggesting that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep his community alive... just like he did before.

And while he gets along with Clementine and AJ [or as some would suggest, he appears to be friendly], they’re not his family. He isn’t close to them the same way he is the rest of the school. and if he has to give anyone away, it’s going to be them, whether he wants to or not.

Marlon didn’t want to give Sophie and Minerva away, and he’s carried that with him up until this point. We see it manifest to a breaking point that lead to Brody’s death and, eventually, his own.

Finally, there are the people who believe that the idea of giving Clementine and AJ away didn’t occur to him until after the incident with Abel. After Brody panicked and told him about getting robbed, then Clementine claiming they met a man with different colored eyes who wanted food, and the realization that the raiders could be back.

This is where I personally stand when it comes to this idea. I believe that Marlon didn’t decide on this until he heard about Abel, and solidified it during the fight with Brody down in the basement.

But what about the dialogue in this scene that potentially has double meanings? Well, I believe that’s the writers suggesting Marlon’s turn and motivations rather than Marlon himself, if that makes sense. Like I said before, you could take nearly everything Marlon says as some sort of foreshadowing or suggestion of what happened to the twins, what his true intentions are with Clementine and AJ, and what will happen to him at the end of the episode.

That’s the thing- Marlon doesn’t ever go on a mustache-twirling monologue about how he knew he could use Clementine and AJ as trade if the raiders came back and that’s the real reason why he saved them, nor do we see him come up with the idea on the spot.

Hell, Marlon never admits to the player that he was going to do that. The most he says is, “Shut your fucking mouth! I made the right call. I saved the lives of everyone in this fucking school! If they came back... I'd do it again!”

Brody is the one who told us everything, and every time Clementine throws it back in his face, he tells her to shut up and threatens her with the gun.

But from what I’ve tried to gather about what Marlon and Brody talk about in the basement before Clementine gets down there...

Marlon: “Why can't you just do what I ask you to do?”

Brody: “Because we caused all this, and now we have to deal with it!”

Marlon: “I am dealing with it!”

Brody: “By tradin' more of us away? That's not fixin' the problem, that's runnin' away from it!”

[I’ll come back to this full conversation later when I go over the basement scene by itself. It gets pretty dark.]

Which.... yeah. So, I’m not trying to say Brody was lying or anything just because Marlon never flat out admitted it to us the player, I’m just saying that we don’t know for sure when he made up his mind about this since the game never gives a clear suggestion for the sake of his dramatic turn from friend to antagonist.

Did he have this idea from the start or did he come up with it during this conversation?

We don’t know, but it’s interesting to look at the different views surrounding this question and how it applies to Marlon’s character. Because yeah, if you truly believe that Marlon had this intention from the start, it makes all of his actions in this episode pretty scummy. And again, that’s not wrong because there isn’t an answer here.

I choose to believe that maybe the idea came as an unwanted thought in the beginning, but manifested into something real when he heard about Abel. He shared his plan with Brody, who didn’t want to go along with it.

And y’know what... let’s finally get into the basement scene and Brody...

Continued in Part 2/2

#twdg marlon #twdg character discussion #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg aasim #twdg ruby #twdg mitch #twdg willy #twdg omar #twdg brody #twdg tenn #twdg sophie #twdg minerva #marlon character discussion #twdg #long post

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fckinsupreme · 4 years

Text

Masterpiece - Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader - One-Shot

Description: Xavier drops by your art studio and distracts you from a deadline.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Female reader, oral sex (female receiving), breast and nipple play, spanking (brief), dirty talk, unprotected sex, choking (light, brief), and paint use during sex.

A/N: Anonymous requested - Hi! Could you do an Xavier x reader where the reader love painting and Xavier appreciates her art along with having kinky paint sex?

Sorry if this has been done before!

No copyright infringement intended! Any rights belong to proper shareholders and they deserve the ultimate credit.

__________________________________

The evening pinned up inside of your art studio had been slow, monotonous. You had been there for hours, working to complete a portrait that your local art gallery wished to display for their upcoming exhibit. They had commissioned a portrait of your choice, which meant that you were on a deadline; it also meant that you had to cancel date plans with your boyfriend, Xavier Plympton. You hated having to do it, to see the look of sadness & disappointment etched into his handsome face, but you needed to do this. It was of the utmost importance, something that was very near and dear to your heart, and he understood that. Even still, you wished that you could be with him instead tonight, to be in his arms, to feel his body on yours, to relish in his lips and hands traveling over your entire body…

But the plus side was that you weren’t entirely without his company. The portrait that you had chosen to paint for the gallery was of him, a full-body one with the most exquisite of detail. Bringing him to life on canvas had proven distracting at times, his beauty staring back at you as it became more and more realistic upon the easel. You had to remind yourself, more than once, of the precious seconds that ticked by the longer you ogled it, and how many of those wasted ticks of the clock would result in more time here. He was grinning in the painting, adorned in his favorite lavender jacket, dark purple crop tank top, nice-fitting blue jeans, and his trademark cross earring. It had been his requested outfit, and he’d modeled it for you recently during a lazy Sunday afternoon. The Polaroid of it rested on your easel, tiny flecks of paint scattered about its surface, but not enough to impact the photo itself. You were grateful; you planned on hanging that little picture in your room when this was all over.

Presently, you’re so focused on your work that you don’t hear the studio door open. You don’t pick up on the footsteps behind you, nor hear the breathy laugh as those feet approached. You thank your lucky stars that your brush was away from the canvas as those familiar arms, muscular and strong, envelop you from behind in a tight hug, nearly lifting you from your seat. You cry out in surprise, ready to elbow the mystery man, before he chuckles lowly in your ear.

“Surprise, babe.”

“Xavier!” you cry, both in surprise and playful anger. “What are you doing here?!”

“I didn’t wanna sit at home bored all night without my best girl,” he answers as you turn around. His eyes were on the painting, an awed expression on his own, real-time face. “Wow. That looks really, really good.”

“You really like it?” you ask, tilting your head. “I wasn’t sure that I was doing justice to the Polaroid.”

“I love it,” he breathes, refraining from touching so as not to smear the wet, fresh paint. “You’re so talented, Y/N.”

You can’t help but blush at that remark, watching as he walks around the studio. He observes some of your other works--a monarch butterfly perched upon a red rose, a lighthouse based on a photo you took during a trip to Maine in 1980, a portrait of your best friend that won first prize in a contest a couple years ago. He pored over each one as if they were sacred works of Dali or Picasso, face lit up as he glances at you. He slowly strides back to where you’re standing, his hands on your waist as he gives you a tender kiss.

“I love your work,” he murmurs against your lips, giving your waist a squeeze. “I’m pretty lucky to have such a talented girlfriend.”

That comment results in you bringing the brush, still covered in a small bit of paint, across his cheek in a playful swat. You both giggle, with Xavier gathering a tiny amount from his face and smudging it over your cheek in return. You offer him a look of faux shock, gliding the brush across his other cheek as he howled in false derision. You drew your hand back as if you were going to paint his nose, but he grabs your wrist in order to still your movements. He lowers it slowly, his breathtaking blue eyes on yours as he leans in for another kiss.

You expect nothing less than his needy, raw kissing, the type that became something of his trademark. That’s why you’re stunned when he starts the kiss off slow and gentle, his large hands still planted firmly upon your waist. Your hand, the one holding the brush, creeps up one toned arm, settling there as his lips move against yours. It doesn't take long for that familiar style to show itself, his lips parting as his tongue darts over your closed mouth. You open your lips to grant him access, his tongue swiping past your own as your hand moves further upward. The brush falls to the ground behind Xavier with a dull clack!, lying forgotten as you mewl lightly into his mouth. He tastes of vanilla and a hint of cinnamon, and you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was no better taste in the whole world.

“God, I fucking missed you today,” he pants, fisting your hair as he presses his hips to yours, his lips attacking your neck. You can feel that he’s already started getting hard, and you move one hand between your bodies to palm his forming erection. “Mmm…yeah, baby. Do you feel that?”

You nod with a smirk, grabbing the belt loops of his pants before unfastening them and tugging his belt off. “I missed this,” you say in his ear, tugging his cock free from the confines of his pants. “I’ve been aching to touch you all day.”

“Maybe you should paint that next,” he suggests jokingly, moaning as you begin pumping him. He hardens even more in your hand, and encourages you to push his pants & boxers around his ankles. He steps out of them, cock now fully freed. “Or...mmm...sculpt it. Make your own dildo with my cock as the prototype.”

“Why would I do that when I have the real thing?” you purr, tugging your shirt off before he does the same with his. “The most amazing dick in the world, and it’s all mine.”

“Damn right,” he says, pulling you close for a messy kiss.

The rest of your clothes and his soon fall to the floor, between sloppy, breathless kisses and your hands wandering all over each other’s exposed skin. His mouth trails down your bare chest, his face buried in your breasts as he peers up at you. Looking into those eyes, so full of raw desire, makes your heart flutter. How had you been so lucky to have someone like Xavier? He was like a dream and yet, here he was--as real as air and all yours. Gazing at him and getting lost in the feeling of his mouth, now moving down your stomach, almost made you forget--

“Fuck,” you say with mild panic. “Xavier, I need to get back to work.”

“Mmm,” he hums, his open mouth situated above your pubic mound. “Later, babe. Right now, I want you to relax with me; you deserve it.”

“I have a deadline,” you say, but make no attempt at stopping him.

“It isn’t due for, what? Another four or five days? You can pull an all-nighter sometime if you need it, but it looks almost done to me. Come on, baby. Let me take care of you tonight.”

You chew anxiously on your bottom lip, but you realize he’s right. Two more days, tops, and it would be complete. What was one night of some much-needed fun going to hurt? Especially when you were fully aware of how much fun sex with Xavier actually was. He wasn’t like any other man you’d ever been with: He wasn’t afraid to be funny during the act, he giggled when it was appropriate, he wasn’t afraid to be loud and vocal, he absolutely loved making you feel good, and he felt like heaven inside of you. He also wasn’t an asshole when it came to going down on you, unlike most of the other men who only did it to get their dicks sucked in return. He truly enjoyed it, he was enthusiastic about it and never expected a blowjob for it.

How could you turn him down any other time, but especially in an instance when you needed it most? It was the best way to de-stress that you could think of, and he was offering it to you. Why not take it?

“Okay,” you finally say. “I think letting my hair down tonight is just what I need. I wouldn’t be able to focus this far in, anyway.”

His grin was beatific, nearly splitting his face as he stands from the paint-splattered concrete floor. He coaxes you toward a large, wide table with paint bottles & plastic sheets strewn about its surface, pushing you onto it after sliding the sheets to the ground. An open bottle of bright red paint is knocked onto the table amidst the chaos, and any other time you would have been irritated. But you were too lost in the moment and in your own lust to care, and you delight in the fact that more bottles remained within reach. They’re mostly closed, but the ideas that form in your head surrounding them are numerous and spectacular.

The cool, liquid feeling of red paint fills your entire back, and you pull Xavier on top of you in a heated, saliva-filled kiss. One idea that you had only seconds before comes to the forefront of your mind, your tongue exploring the roof of his mouth as you reach for some paint. You grasp a bottle of standard blue, and squirt some onto his back once the cap was popped open. He gasps in shock against your lips, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he only kisses you even harder, your hands smearing the paint to form a blue canvas on his skin. You bring your hands around to the front, trailing streaks of blue over his chiseled torso.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes as you tweak his nipples. “Do you like that? Do you enjoy making a mess out of me?”

“You know it,” you tease, licking over his tongue as you wiggle a bit. “You kinda started it, though. You knocked over the red and now I’m lying in it.”

“And you covered me in blue,” he says in amusement as he catches sight of your paint-covered fingers. “Do you wanna make purple?”

You laugh, unable to help yourself. “That’s the corniest line I’ve ever heard, Xavier.”

“It may be corny,” he whispers, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. “But my perfect cock pounding into your pretty, dripping cunt won’t be as much.”

You whine, biting your lip as he flips you over. You’re on top of him now, his back in the puddle of red. He gathers some on his fingers, massaging your breasts as you moan appreciatively. You grab the bottle of blue again, handing it to him with a mischievous grin. He gets the idea, squirting some onto one palm and rubbing his hands together. He swipes them over your breasts, relishing in your lewd moans and the way that the red paint on your skin soon turns purple. You reach down to place your hands in a small amount of red, running your hands over his blue chest to achieve the same effect.

“So pretty,” he marvels, eyes glued to your erect nipples as he gives your ass a hard spank. His fingers ghost over your clit, before pinching and rolling one nipple between his fingers. “All painted up, desperate, and soaking wet. Did you know that purple is my favorite color? It looks so damn good all over those pretty tits.”

“Xavier,” you mewl, head falling backward. “Don’t be a tease.”

He winks at you, shifting you onto your back again. He ducks between your legs, mouth immediately settling over your clit. Usually, he’s more into the build-up, in absolutely doing everything in his power to rile you up past your limit, but tonight he’s wasting no time. He grips your thighs like a vice, leaving lines of purple in his wake as he begins to devour your pussy. His skilled tongue flicks over the small, sensitive bundle of nerves, soon massaging your folds with his mouth as he gazes up at you. Your eyes meet his, the lust in your eyes mirrored in his own, as your hands bury in his hair. He gives a soft yelp in protest, not wanting to get paint in his hair, but upon seeing red paint clinging to your own (h/c) locks, he’s less prissy about it. He guides his tongue along every crevice, every lip, every inch that he can reach, his chin coated in your juices. You groan, tugging his frosted hair before running one hand down his pierced ear. The cross earring that you love so much is smudged with a tiny bit of blue paint, and you hum as you admire it for the smallest second.

“You taste so good,” he remarks. “As always. I missed your sweet taste, babe.”

“I missed your mouth,” you say, rutting into his face before he shakes his head back & forth rapidly against your core. “Xavier!”

“Y/N,” he purrs, smears of red paint on your hips from where his fingers had yet again dipped into the running puddle. “You’re so hot.”

“Not as hot as you,” you purr seductively, arching off the table as his full lips envelop your swollen, drenched clit. He sucks generously, tongue swirling madly as your legs begin to quake. He hums loudly against you for vibration, and your eyes roll back slightly. He wipes his painted fingers off on his thigh, making sure there’s no fresh remaining before pushing two of them inside of you. His hot, wet mouth is still on your cunt, his hums growing louder as his tongue swipes more urgently against your clit. His fingers pump and curl against your spot, juices spilling onto his hand as you feel your stomach beginning to tighten. “Xavier, I’m gonna cum. Please--”

“Not yet,” he growls, running his free hand up the entirety of your thigh. “You can’t cum yet, baby girl.”

“But--” you begin, whining softly when he withdraws his mouth & fingers, crawling up your body in a slow, teasing manner.

He says nothing as he grabs a bottle of yellow paint, squirting it into his hand. He uses that same hand to grab your throat, but not too hard; just enough to keep a firm hold on you. Ravenous baby blues scan your face, smirking as you grin around his grip. A green color, mixed with swirls of red and purple, starts to form on your neck, and Xavier admires it as if it’s the most beautiful color he’s ever seen. And maybe, just maybe, it actually was.

“I want you to cum around my cock, babe,” he says as he releases your throat. “I’ve been craving it all day.”

He pins your hands above your head by the wrists, and you give him a consensual nod. He keeps your hands pinned with one of his own, the other gliding down to guide his cock inside of you. You both groan in satisfaction, and you don’t even care about the fact that he had some paint on his cock as it went in. After all, he still had some on his fingers earlier, a bit drier than that on his dick had been, so what was a little more? How could you give a fuck, anyway, when he felt this damn good? He throbs inside of you, and you could feel every vein, every ridge, every pulsation of his erection as he pushed even deeper within. You clenched around him instinctively, soaking in his moans as you did so.

“So tight,” he groans, letting go of your arms. “Fuck.”

“You’re so big, Xav,” you gasp, leaning forward to press kisses over his neck and clavicle. “I love it.”

He purrs at the praise, thrusting sharply to fully seat himself inside of you. You grab the back of his neck, looking into his eyes before observing the painted, cum-soaked mess of his face. His hair and upper chest are also covered in paint, swirls of the various colors used decorating him like a living, breathing canvas. You can feel drying paint on his back as your hands explore the muscular expanse, your cunt squeezing him again before he starts properly thrusting. One of his hands begins to roam your side and your thigh before gripping your throat a little harder than he had previously. His other hand supports his weight, although he struggles one-handed as his hand slides in the congealing paint on the table. He presses forcefully on your throat for a moment before using it to prop himself better, absolutely pounding into you after finding his newfound footing.

“Jesus,” you whimper, moaning in his ear as your hold switches from the back of his neck to settle in his hair. “You feel so good pounding into me, Daddy.”

He chuckles breathlessly at the nickname, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in harshly. Your hand is still paint covered as it fists in his hair, some a bit fresh and other old and drying, coloring the locks purple, red, and even a small bit of green. He isn’t objecting, still mercilessly fucking into you as he kisses you hungrily. His noises of pleasure vibrate against your lips, your own noises filling his mouth as his cock brushes repeatedly against your sweet spot. He pulls back after a little while, completely admiring you. He looks at you as though you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen, his hips slamming into yours. His balls slap against your ass, so big and heavy, and you can’t wait to feel him cumming inside of you. It becomes a craving so intense that it’s an itch you can't scratch; the only way to satiate it is for him to cum, to give you exactly what you both want him to.

“Xavier,” you mewl. “I can’t wait for you to cum, and I want it you to do it so fucking deep. Will you do that for me? Will you cum inside of me? Will you let me milk that perfect fucking cock of every drop?”

“Fuck yes,” he pants, the hand that had previously been planted within the red puddle now grasping your jaw. “As long as you scream my name when you cum. I want anyone close by to hear you. I want them to know how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Back at it with being cheesy, I see,” you joke, and you receive a light warning tug to your hair in response. “Mmm...okay, okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” he praises, mewling hotly in your ear as your nails dig into his painted back. “I fucking love your pussy, babe. I can’t say it enough.”

“I know you do,” you say, the red paint beneath your back making a squelching sound with each thrust. You were surprised that any remained on the table’s surface, or that it was still wet enough to produce such a sound. Then again, maybe you were confusing it with the noises of him fucking into your sopping cunt; it was shockingly similar to your ears. Then, another idea forms in your head to find out what the sound truly is: “I wanna ride you.”

“I won’t complain about that,” he says, flipping you over so that you were on top of him, his cock still deeply embedded inside of you. “You look like a goddess when you bounce on my cock.”

You set a steady pace, trying to keep the fast one that he had set. You soon realize that the noise was not, in fact, caused by the paint but by the sex itself. It almost echoes in the surrounding space, along with the sound of both of your moaning & heavy breathing that signaled your upcoming climaxes. You move up and down, slamming onto him with every movement downward. You make sure that he rams into your G-spot each time, wanting to feel his engorged head against it with each bounce of your hips. Xavier’s hands, now a red-green-purple mix, explore your waistline and hips, traveling to your breasts eventually and giving them a fresh splash of color. You rest your hands over his, losing yourself in the sensation of the dried paint on his hands against your sensitive nipples.

Your head lolls back, soft sighs of ecstasy spilling from your lips. He tugs your nipples, rubbing them in circles before pulling you down. You keep working your hips, chest level with his face at this point. Painted tits bounce in his face with the momentum of you fucking yourself onto his massive length, one of your hands above him to brace yourself as the other toys with your clit. He runs his tongue along one hardened nipple, paying no mind to the taste of the paint. The amount was minuscule, but you know it had to taste like shit; it was fucking paint, after all.

“I guess it’s fortunate that I only use non-toxic, acrylic paint, hm?” you tease, which causes him to hum. His lips wrap around your nipple, sucking softly. “Isn’t the taste of that pretty nasty?”

“It isn’t the worst thing ever,” Xavier replies, face now positioned between your jiggling breasts. “It’s not pussy, but it’s alright. Pussy is the best flavor in the world, you know that.”

You laugh softly at his comment, sitting back up and swiveling your hips as you toss your hair from your face. He moans thickly, and your hands bury in your own paint-covered hair. His hands continue to run over your body in a colorful pattern, your own finding his chest as one rubs wildly at your clit again. You know that he wants you to cum first, you can sense it by the look in his eyes and his attention on your sensitive breasts, his fingers working magic on them. He pinches and rolls the nipples, occasionally giving your tits a hard squeeze. You know that your orgasm is quickly approaching, and you open your mouth to warn him of it.

In response, Xavier forcefully grabs your tits, holding on so hard that you fear they may bruise. It doesn’t really faze you that much for long, though; in fact, it only fuels your orgasm and you finally cum so hard that stars begin dancing across your vision. You scream his name as you promised, scratching down his chest through the valley of red and purple, nail marks revealing pieces of his pale skin underneath. His hold is on your hips now, holding you firmly in place as you soak his cock in your sticky, milky essence. Your head is swimming, and as you hit your high, you’re vaguely aware of him guiding your hips along his cock to chase his own release.

“Babe,” he rasps, darkened eyes drinking in the sight of your body atop of his. “God, you’re a fucking porn star. Look at you.”

“I know,” you say, a dazed grin on your face. You clench around him, trying to coax him to his own orgasm. “Go ahead, Xav. Cum inside of me.”

He bites his lip, eyes on your heaving, moving breasts. He can no longer contain himself at the sight, shooting his hot load deep inside of your pussy. You feel his cock twitching, his balls nearly draining completely within you as he gives you all that he can. It feels too damn good, and you don’t want to move off as he finishes. He moans your name before it falls repeatedly from his kiss-swollen lips in a breathy chant. You smile, reluctantly lifting your hips as you feel him becoming flaccid. He hugs you to his chest, lying you next to him in order to hold you. His painted fingers play with your stiffened hair, and he’s laughing after a small beat of silence.

“What?” you ask, propping your chin on his chest.

“Nothing,” he says, running his fingers down your cheek in a tender manner. “It’s just that you’re officially the prettiest piece of art in this room.”

“Gee, thanks,” you say teasingly, rolling your eyes playfully. “You’re on a roll with the corniness tonight.”

“It’s true!” he says in protest with a mock pout. “You know I’m right, babe.”

“No, you’re wrong,” you say with a wink. “The prettiest artwork here is you. You already look like a statue of Adonis, and that dick? That is a work of art in and of itself.”

“Don’t forget my balls, too,” he jokes, and now you’re rolling your eyes for real.

“Dork,” you laugh, leaning up for a gentle kiss. “But honestly, the real art is your pretty face and that bone structure.”

He’s silent for several minutes, both of you basking in the afterglow. Then, his laughter rings out again--this time, more of a chortle. You look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion over what he could be laughing about now. You almost speak, but he answers before you get a chance to.

“You know how they have those paint canvases that are, like, huge?” he asks, and you nod. “Well, I was reading in Playboy awhile back that people have sex on them, covered in paint, and it makes really cool art. Like sex art made by real sex.”

“And why were you reading Playboy, Mr. Plympton?” you tease, trying to hide your smirk and failing. “Hm?”

“For the jokes and the articles,” he says, putting up a serious act that backfires when he scratches the back of his neck. That’s how you always knew he was lying, that damn neck scratch. “And okay, yeah, for the naked chicks. Who, by the way, aren’t as hot as you. They have fake hair, fake tans, fake bodies, and then there’s the fact that some of them don’t even--”

“I get it, babe,” you interject with a chuckle. “I actually have canvas like that here. It’s like a sheet and it’s pretty big.”

“You’re saying you wanna try it?” Xavier asks, eyes big with both excitement and surprise. “For real?”

“Why not?” you say, sitting up with a wide grin. “It could be fun, and I could display it in here. Tell people who may stop by that I made it with my boyfriend.”

“Mmm,” he hums, licking his lips. “Go get it, baby.”

You offer another wink, sliding from the table. You know that you’ll be cursing the whole situation later in the shower, trying to scrub layers of dry paint from your hair and skin, but for now, that didn’t matter. You desperately needed this night of letting loose and having the fun that you’d been deprived of lately. Trying new things was definitely an option, and you were determined to make the most of it. A sex canvas seemed to be the icing on the cake, and as you retrieve a spare canvas and some extra paint from your storeroom, you knew this night would be unlike any other.

To hell with the deadline. If you somehow didn’t meet it because of this, you had a feeling it would be more than worth it.

___

Taglist!

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mistymark · 4 years

Text

VIGILANTE/S IV

part four // 2.8k words // superpowered!au // (sort of) gang!au // series masterlist

summary; in which you consider yourself somewhat of a vigilante.

warnings; swearing, mentions of death, weapons and killing, gang shit really

notes; this fic is now 10k words and that's a personal record so damn

“I hear training was a success,” Doyoung says when he returns from Jaehyun’s ‘errand’.

You roll your eyes, your jaw set. You don’t look at him, focusing instead on the camera footage Mark had given you to watch. A notepad sat in your lap as you sat cross-legged on your bed, the computer in front of you. The footage was over 12 hours long, showing only a large gate leading to an estate that looked to be the size of a museum. The leader of the Red Crown lived there, you knew, and you were supposed to watch and record who was entering and exiting through the gate during the 12-hour time period.

“I’m being serious.” You finally look over at Doyoung, standing in the doorway, and the expression on his face almost resembles pride. He’s never been anything but serious, but he seems more playful now. “You beat Johnny.”

“He beat me about fifty times,” you deadpan, giving him a pointed look before shifting your attention back to your notepad. Doyoung walks in and looks around the room, as if it’s his first time seeing it – like it would help him understand you.

“What was your time?” He asks, his back to you.

“Fifteen twenty?” The worst fifteen minutes and twenty seconds of your life, probably. He looks at you, and for a moment you can’t read the expression on his face.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t say anything. Briefly turning his attention away from you, he stops to look at the drawings and photos attached to the wall, his face stoic again. He’s looking at the detailed sketches of weapons – disturbingly realistic, in your opinion – that adorn the wall by the door. The others were strangely anatomical – surprisingly accurate hand-drawn outlines of bodies were pinned against another bare wall. One had a skeleton, another vital organs, and one had the bloodstream mapped out beautifully. Hand-written notes were scribbled across the paper – you’d attempted to read them but the messy scrawl was illegible.

“What’s this?” When he turns around, you hold up one of the leather-bound journals you’d found on the bedside table. It was quite possibly the creepiest thing you’d ever read. One of the entries had just read, January 16th, tried knives again. Sixteen stab wounds. Mostly torso, though heart was avoided. Twelve hours exactly. Another, only two days later, was simply: January 18th, bullet between the eyes (removed). 6.4mm. Four hours.

You’d wondered if the owner was an interrogator like Doyoung – or just a torturer. Part of you was glad you hadn’t had the opportunity to meet him. From what it appeared, none of the others really missed him, either.

Doyoung furrows his eyebrows, “Don’t read that. It’s personal.”

“The guy’s dead.”

You’re unsure if Doyoung hears you, as he chooses to focus on the pictures on the walls once again. Your personal favourite was in the closet, attached to the inside of the door, otherwise hidden from sight. It was a mix of charcoal and red paint, barely resembling a face, but it felt more personal than the ones on the walls, tucked away in the closet where no one would see. It wasn’t nearly as detailed or clear as the other posters, and you had stared at it for almost two minutes before realising what it was.

“The first time Donghyuck fought Johnny, he didn’t even get a time.” Doyoung’s voice sounds far away as he recalls the memory. You wish he hadn’t blocked you from using his powers so that you could see whatever he was remembering.

“What about you?”

“About fifteen seconds.” He snorts at your expression. “Don’t be discouraged.” His attention suddenly moves to the door, and you follow his gaze, though nothing is there. With a nod, he leaves.

You’re left alone again, and you wonder what it is with these boys and never saying goodbye.

You’ve managed to speed up the footage just enough to make your task bearable but have to pause it when a familiar black van enters the shot. It’s identical to the one you’d seen at the Den on the night you met the team, but the number plate is different. This number plate is familiar in a different way. Unlike every other vehicle that had passed through the gates, the driver’s window does not slide down. No ID card is able to be captured.

You know exactly who it is – the only person who can enter the estate without having to show credentials. The Red Prince.

Even though the footage is far too grainy to make out anything in the mirrors, you swear you can see his reflection. Eyes that stare directly into the camera, as if he knows you’re watching. You wonder if he knows he’s being watched, that a group of Supers had managed to hack into his security system.

The gate slides open wide, and the eyes disappear. You shiver.

“Y/n?” You’re shaken from your thoughts when a voice calls you from the other side of your door.

“Come in!”

“Wow,” Mark offers you a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Donghyuck never lets me in his room.”

“Well-,” you shrug, then hesitate. You realise you have no idea what to say to him. At least, you don’t have anything to say that isn’t insensitive. Clearing your throat, you push your notepad to the side, “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” his eyes scan the walls, taking in the inside of the room, “Johnny needs the notes from the security footage by tonight. I thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks, Mark.” You can feel how tight your smile is, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He turns to leave, but just as the door’s about to close, he pops his head back inside the room, “Oh, by the way, don’t be worried about training today. Johnny was impressed.” He smiles. “Have a good night, y/n.”

It’s almost midnight by the time you get to the end of the footage. 14 vehicles entering, 10 leaving. And you know the licence plates and drivers of them all.

You feel uncomfortable watching the footage, being right at the gate but unable to enter. Your determination to get in there and take down the Red Crown is strong, frustration bubbling inside you. Everything they’re doing goes against what you believe in, and there’s something about your anger that makes you stand up and head to the kitchen. The walls of Jaehyun’s office are transparent again, and the light is on , even though you know he can’t see you, you freeze when his eyes snap up from his laptop.

It’s weird being unable to hear or see the other team members walking around, and the warehouse feels much emptier without them. Soft snoring makes you jump, and you smile at the sight of Jaemin passed out on a couch nearby, his breaths steady, though slightly too fast. Part of you was surprised by how fast he seemed to live his life, though he had told you he had to consciously slow himself down most of the time. “It’s like letting someone win in a race by running slower than them,” he’d explained. “You know you can go faster and beat them, but you don’t. Like constantly coming second place.”

“Does it get frustrating?” You’d asked.

“Almost unbelievably so,” he’d smiled at you, though you could see some inner turmoil behind his eyes.

When you’re filling a glass with water, Jaehyun steps out of his office, the door closing loudly, snapping you out of your thoughts. His feet are soft on the floor – you almost don’t hear him coming. “Can’t sleep?” He’s reaching for a mug on the shelf behind you, and you sidestep to move out of his way.

“I just needed to clear my head,” you swallow, and quickly take a drink of water as an excuse not to elaborate.

Jaehyun slides the mug under the coffee machine, and watches it whir to life. Only now can you read the words printed on the side, ‘World’s Greatest Boss’. You snort when you see it. He turns his head to look at you, and raises an eyebrow. There’s something different in the way he does it. Normally, when he does this, it’s questioning, analytical, intimidating. Now? You’d say it’s borderline flirtatious. It takes you a second to realise why it seems so different.

He’s standing in front of you, leaning over the counter top, waiting for his coffee – in sweatpants. He’s mindlessly biting the inside of his cheek, and you realise you’ve never noticed he has dimples. Probably because he never smiles.

“What?” He’s frowning slightly, but when he looks like this, it just looks cute. The furrow in his brow almost looks guarded, as if he’s worried you’re about to say something offensive.

“Uh,” you look down, collecting your thoughts, then a smile appears on your face. “Your mug, I-”

He looks down at it, and there’s the ghost of a smile on his face, “The first birthday present Johnny ever got me.”

“It’s…cute,” you say it more like a question than a compliment. A loud thud makes you both stand tall, staring into the darkness to make out any movement. There’s a quiet yawn, and the sound of retreating footsteps. You turn back to Jaehyun, and any emotion he’d displayed in the last two minutes was wiped from his face. His face is hard again, and he looks more like the man you’d seen earlier. He looks older, authoritative. “I’m gonna get some rest. I hear training tomorrow is going to be intense,” you offer him a smile.

His attention has moved from you again, staring into the darkness of the warehouse. He bids you goodnight without looking at you, carrying his coffee gently to his office, his mind somewhere else.

You leave your glass in the sink, promising yourself you’ll wash it in the morning, before making your way back to your room.

You can hear faint murmurs coming from another room, but the walls are so thick you can’t make out any of the words. Moving the laptop from your bed to the set of drawers next to the door, you prepare for bed.

The door suddenly bangs open, and a duffel bag is dropped onto the floor noisily. You gasp in shock and the person in the doorway looks just as surprised to see you. “Who are you?” He asks, frozen right there in the middle of the doorway.

“Y/n. Who-” His eyes are wide and calculating, searching the room.

“Well, what are you doing here, y/n?” He crosses his arms, looking at you skeptically.

“I’m part of the team. I-”

“I meant, what are you doing in my room?”

You’re struggling to keep up with the conversation at this point. You shake your head. “Your room – ? Wait, you’re Donghyuck? You’re dead.”

His gaze is fierce, “I was dead. I’m not anymore. Now, I’m tired. And I’d like to sleep in my own bed.” He walks into the room, rifling through the drawers of the dresser, looking for something.

Reaching out for his power, you can feel it thread through your body, though it’s more painful than invigorating, very different to most of the power you can feel in other Supers. “You’re immortal.”

“Obviously,” he doesn’t even turn around.

A lightbulb goes off in your head as the journals on the bedside table catch your attention, “So the journals – you… you were killing yourself?”

Donghyuck rounds on you, “You read my – ? Okay, you’re clearly new to the team. Rule number one; never read anyone’s journal.” At the confused look on your face, he rolls his eyes, “We all have them. You’ll get yours soon. To track your drawbacks; track your strength.”

You raise an eyebrow at him from where you’re sitting on your – his – bed. “Drawbacks?”

“Damn, okay. Rule number two; know your drawbacks. The limits of your power. We all have them. Jaemin’s is how much he has to eat and sleep. Chenle and Mark lack control.” He gestures to his journals before turning back to the drawers, “As you can see, mine is time. Takes a long time to come back to life.” You barely hear it when he mumbles, “Surprise, surprise.”

“You just kill yourself over and over again?”

“Pretty much.” He finds what he’s looking for but doesn’t take it out from the drawer. He turns to face you again, leaning against the dresser with his arms crossed once again. “What do you do?”

“I mimic other people’s abilities.”

His eyebrows raise slightly and he whistles lowly in appreciation, but he doesn’t say anything. “Drawback?”

“Uh… I guess it’s distance. If they’re too far away, it’s like I can’t reach their power.”

He nods in understanding, then furrows his eyebrows, “Johnny will have you training with all of us, then. Have you done ability training yet?”

You shake your head.

“How long have you been here?”

“One day,” you shrug.

“Wait, you’re the one Doyoung brought in?”

You pause, then nod.

“Ah, Jeno killed me before we could meet, I guess.”

“Jeno killed you?!” Your voice is high and loud. Jeno was much stronger, much faster, much more skilled than you were. You had no chance against him if he ever decided you were his next target. Donghyuck’s eyes widen at the loud noise, and he crosses the room to shut the door, “Shit, calm down. I’m immortal – it’s not like it’s a big deal. Almost everyone here has killed me at least once, though he does hold the record.” The side of his mouth quirks up to the side in a smile that you would almost call cute. Maybe if he wasn’t talking about his friend murdering him, he’d be cute.

You don’t know what to say to that. “You’re insane.” That works.

He shrugs, “Jeno’s always been impatient.”

“So he just kills you. Logical.” The disbelief in your voice makes him laugh.

“Rule number three; never get Jeno angry. His drawback is his anger.”

“Holy shit, where were you when I joined? I could have used some of this information.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, “Well, first of all, I was dead. Then I had to go out of town for a day – and here I am.”

You nod, “Right.”

Donghyuck grabs his bag and turns it upside down onto the top of the bed. You aren’t quite sure what you were expecting to come out, but it certainly wasn’t guns. You wait for something – anything – normal to drop out, yet it seems like it’s just guns. At least fifteen of them, ranging in size. You don’t say anything.

He takes one look at your face and immediately explains, “I just bought them. Our weapons dealer is based in China – Winwin? He’s a friend of Jaehyun’s – and he just got into the city two days ago. Jaehyun made me go pick them up.” Under all the posters and sketches on the wall, the walls are painted a bright red, and the subtle blush on Donghyuck’s face almost matches them completely.

“I didn’t realise there was more of you,” you say.

“Us.” You look up in confusion, and he offers you a smile, “More of us.” He clears his throat, his attention going back to the weapons on the bed, “Yeah, Jaehyun has connections everywhere. Japan, China, you name it.”

Carefully, he places the guns in boxes and stacks them in the corner of his room. He brushes off his hands on his thighs, “Look, I’m happy to take the couch tonight, but don’t get any ideas. This is my room, and I fully intend on taking it back after –“ He cuts himself off with a yawn and you raise an eyebrow at him. Rolling his eyes, he heads for the door, giving you an awkward bow of his head as he closes the door.

You feel a little bad about stealing his room, but you’re so tired, you don’t have enough time to think about it before you’re drifting off to sleep in his bed.

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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years

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What would the lost boys think if you accidentally say a different mens name like from a rockbands name. While you was having sex with them

Sure thing fang baby, lemme give it a shot! I’m gonna be honest hon, there isn’t anything romantic about this scenario though, this one is gonna be a whole lot of drama. I write them according to what I think would happen based on their personalities. And let’s be realistic here- None of the boys would respond well to this. All of them are only ever going to polyamorous between each other and their s/o’s in a best case scenario. Outsiders involved in any way, shape, or form is seriously frowned upon. You could call to the great artists of the Renaissance, you could call out Eddie frickin Van Halen, it doesn’t matter. Trust me on this.

THANK YOU TO @imlostinsantacarla WHO IS NOT ONLY MY CO-AUTHOR BUT A FELLOW LOST BOYS WRITER, AND AN AMAZING FRIEND! I appreciate all the help you’ve been, dude I love ya like a sister! Seriously guys, check out her blog, she is amazing!

The Lost Boys’ S/O Moans a Rock Star’s Name During Sex

18+ CONTENT WARNING: Contains Offensive Language, Gore, Homicide, Violent Behaviors, Potential Emotional Triggers, Sexual Themes! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

David

Any name that isn't his will infuriate him. All he knows is while he's on top of you, you just said another man's name. There's a split second where the infernos of Hades ignites his entire body aflame with pure unadulterated rage. His eyes spark white hot, it takes every ounce of willpower he has to physically calm himself so he doesn't "accidentally" kill you. It's tempting, nearly impossible to resist the urge to slice you open while he's still inside you. How dare you say anyone else's name.

There’s quite the conflict in his head. He wonders if he should pull out, and leave you there without another word. But instead he chooses to take his revenge. Your mouth won't ever make the mistake of calling to anyone but him ever again, if you’re even lucky enough to be graced with his presence once he’s finished with you. Immediately he would've grabbed you by your throat, tempted to squeeze you until you fainted as he demanded you tell him again who's name you just screamed. It's a terrifying moment, you barely choke out the words before he flips you onto your stomach

"...What was that, kitten? I don’t think I heard those lips right! You're gonna have to say that louder for me."

Make no mistake, the fact that it's the name of a celebrity as you desperately try to claim, means fuck all to him. He will punish the fuck out of you! Everything is drawn out. He'll choke your neck until you can't even moan, just barely teasing when you begin to have tunnel vision. There is no way you'll be satisfied, this is for him! He's not about to give you what you want until you're crying, pleading for him to let you orgasm. You know what he does? Just at the edge of climax covered in scratches and bites, he pulls out and leaves you. Shaken, exhausted, alone, and unsatisfied. Why the hell would he give you the satisfaction of what you want when you called another man's name when you guys were having sex?

David is one of the guys whose ego is going to be busted, and that is a very poor choice to make. He would immediately get dressed. No aftercare, he wants you to feel filthy, dirty. You didn't deserve his love that night. The guys would jump out of his way, you don't want to be in his warpath when he gets like this. As he's tearing through victims he's constantly questioning himself. Why are you thinking of another man when you guys are intimate?! He doesn't let people in, but he let you in, and you fucked it! Obliterating his trust in less than a second.

Expect him to suspect you of adultery. Give him space, because for the next few weeks he won't humor any excuses you give him. How can he be sure you aren't lying?! Maybe it wasn't the lead singer of the band you just said. Maybe it was just some fucker with a similar first name. David's trust in you no longer exists, and his respect is gone too. Afterwards he refuses to get intimate with you. Even hugs are rejected, he doesn't want you touching him- period!

Celebrity or not, don't bother being surprised when that guy winds up dead in their precious Hollywood estate a week later. David is possessive as fuck and he doesn't take betrayal lightly, no matter how big or small. You’d hear it on TV. The rock star found with his wrists and throat slashed, presumed suicide. But you already knew who was responsible. David isn’t even phased when you storm up to him on the boardwalk with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Of course he used mind control to have the bastard stab himself and slash open his throat. He only wishes he could’ve done it himself. He’ll even tell you all the gruesome details, mocking how he greatly suffered because David made him think there were bugs under his skin. David is over 110% petty. In fact, he’ll taunt you about this after. At first it’ll come off cold, passive and indifferent before it spills over into pure aggression. If you dare try to get angry at him he’ll put that to rest real fast, looking you dead in the eyes.

"You’re damn right I killed him. And you know what? His blood on your hands, y/n, not mine. You made one grave fucking mistake, you have no one but yourself to blame. I don't know why you're crying."

He's never gonna let you forget this. The likelihood of him staying is entirely dependent on how long you two were together. That also means how angry he gets will rely on that as well. He's not gonna trust you after either. In his eyes you're both done. But even then, you're still his at the end of the day. He’s not losing to a corpse, you knew the moment you two came together that you were going to be with him- whether you fucking like it or not. If you think you're gonna dare to move on, and leave him miserable in the dust after hurting him so, think again! You’ll be making it up to him for years, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll forgive you.

Dwayne

Low-key freezes at first. It’s almost an otherworldly feeling. He must have heard you wrong! Did he hear you right? No way! Was that someone else's name? It certainly wasn’t his! Dwayne will just full on stop the action, the look on his face just dropping! It’s confusion, fear, rage. There’s no words. You had said another man’s name. Not even said it- you screamed it out. The nervous expression furrowing your face told him all he needed to know. He would immediately get dressed and leave you still sprawled on his bed storming off before he’s tempted to scream at you.

But he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn't say anything, but when you look into his eyes he's pissed! His eyes are fucking GLOWING, his fangs are bared, utterly insulted! This is a rage you’ve never seen on Dwayne. You done fucked up mate. This was an intensely intimate moment with him that you just shattered by the mere mention of someone else. Rock band or not, it’s another man’s name. Period. He knows exactly who Steven Tyler is, he doesn’t give a fuck.

When he pulled out and got off of you it was with such speed you never thought was possible from him because of how big his stature is. But now he’s shaken. For a moment it doesn’t even seem possible. Dwayne is trying to calm down, but if his heart was still beating it would be tearing through his chest. He feels like he might throw up, his stomach is just twisting into hideous knots he never thought possible.

Dwayne is hurt. Utterly crushed. He loves you, or rather, loved you. It’s hard for him to understand what to do with this. He would never dream of doing something this dumb like that to you. Out on the boardwalk he doesn't even see other men or women, like that because he's with you, so for you to do that to him? He's intensely wounded. You said a rock star’s name, but what’s to stop you next time from saying someone else’s name? If you were going to be screaming other people’s names during sex, how far would you go?

When he leaves, he storms off for hours. You won’t see him again until the sun is starting to rise, and even then he won’t speak to you. Well, unless it’s to tell you to get out. Yeah, he wants you gone. Go home. When he’s ready, he’ll talk to you. For now, he doesn’t even look at you. Don’t expect to see him on the boardwalk. In fact, none of the boys are there. If they see you, it's silence and dirty looks. They’ve never seen Dwayne like this. Even when Jasper died he powered through it. This made him utterly depressed, nothing made their friend smile. Paul tried everything, even dancing in drag! Nothing!

Out of everyone, it's gonna be the hardest for Dwayne to move past this. It’s not just a major turn off, it almost feels like a betrayal. Unless you two have been together for a significant amount of time, he’d probably break up with you. If not, then he’d demand space. He isn’t ready to let go, but he’s not ready to just forgive you. He won't be able to look at you the same afterwards. How could you be thinking of another man when his dick is literally inside of you?

Are you unhappy? Are you unsatisfied? Like what's going on? Did you not want to be with him anymore?! He’d be questioning himself, questioning anything. Probably will talk it out with you but it's difficult for him to move past.

It'll take a long time before he can be intimate, if he even can be with you because the trust just isn't there anymore. For Dwayne to be with someone, to let them in, he needs there to be trust in order for him to be intimate. It’s so hard for him to let someone in his life outside of his brothers, especially if you’re human. Now? He doesn’t even know. He may try to patch things up but all he’d hear and see is just you crying for someone else. The damage done might be too much for him to handle. If you guys manage to revive your relationship it’d be an utter miracle because honestly the chances are viciously slim.

Paul

Whatever band member’s name you just called is now officially ruined for Paul forever. By the time you screamed it he was pretty much finished, and mid-climax his heart just drops, utterly falls into his stomach and any horny left inside him is dead.

That man just pulled out so fast you were winded. He won't touch you after, and if you even try to touch him he will slap your hand away! Eventually he’s so pissed he’ll try to get away from you because he's just so furious. You have to understand, he didn’t hear a band name, he hear another man’s name

"Wait what-... What the fuck-?! What the ever loving fuck did you just fucking say?!"

A switch has gone off in his head and he's almost violently shoving his clothes on. If you won’t leave then he will, and he honestly needs to get the fuck of there pronto before he’s tempted to do something messy he might regret!

Paul may come off as this cocky, goofy playboy himself, but he's serious about you! He may have slept around before, but he’s only ever in a relationship, a real, serious relationship, if he truly trusts you. Paul hates being vulnerable, it’s a foreign and risky task that could bite him in the ass. And it just did. All trust is gone and he immediately jumps to the conclusion that you're sleeping with other people. A wave of insecurity takes over. He has a fragile ego, that’s why he tends to be such a needy boyfriend- he always needs to know you love him and that you won’t leave him. Honestly, now he can't look at a picture of the band member you called out during sex anymore, it’s ruined for him now. Their music pisses them off, their face makes him enraged. Even sex is ruined for him for awhile. This boy is so possessive it's unreal, but you've made things all weird now and he can't shake that shit off!

He genuinely cares about you! He knows he's done some dumb shit before! Paul’s behavior can always come across as flirty, even when he’s in his most relaxed state. He’s gotten shit for it before, and he totally understood when you would get ticked off at him for it. But... he never expected that fucking shit to come from you!

Paul will try to patch things up, as best as he can. He doesn't really wanna stay mad at you; it's not his style. However, things are just... different after. He lost that deep, trusting connection with you he once had. It’s just back to square one now, he may even need some space for a few days. Even if you guys manage to pick up the pieces, you have to earn every ounce of his trust back. Part of him sees it as a challenge. Every time you have sex he is determined to make it the most incredible, mind melting, mouth watering fuck he’s ever give in his afterlife! You won’t ever, ever think of another guy again! Unfortunately it makes it hard for him to enjoy it, because not only is he not relaxed, he’s utterly focused on you and there’s still such a massive fear that you’ll do it again.

Part of him desperately wants to murder the guy, and he wouldn't feel bad about it. Not one bit. Gets way more possessive with you than he ever had been in the past, and frankly it’ll take years before he ever learns to relax again. He may see you as untrustworthy whenever you're around other males. His anger is uncontrollable some nights, will probably kick, punch, or throw things. His rage is fucking untamed man! This haunts him, he thought you were starting to lov-... well, now he feels like an idiot.

If you really do stay with him, Paul will be petty. He’s immature, he’s never had this serious of a relationship. So with that, he doesn’t understand how to handle the complex emotions that come with a situation like this. Even though you hurt him, he still cares about you! And that, in a way, makes him even angrier! He should be furious with you, but more than anything he just wants you to want him. Only him! He will remind you of this constantly, even with callous side comments because he can’t let go. If you guys fuck he may start call another women's name. Part of him doesn't give a shit if it makes you uncomfortable or insecure, because you did it to him!

Paul will blast his favorite bands that you didn't ruin for him, even the other guys can’t cheer him up. None of them have ever seen Paul like this. You wouldn’t expect it to hit him this hard, but it does. He was laying into you, he was inside you, and your mind wanted someone else. Your pleasure wasn’t for him! Your desire, your love, your mind was yearning someone else when he was giving you everything he had! He won't look at you, or talk to you for a good few days. Maybe even a week. He won’t let you come to the hotel, on the boardwalk he’ll openly give you the cold shoulder. The other guys might too. How could they be certain it even was a band name? Maybe Paul had just rationalized it as a rock name so he didn’t have to face the fact you called for some random guy. David is wholly convinced you were having an affair, Marko is just pissed you hurt his friend, Dwayne just doesn’t know what to think of it all. Anytime you try to talk to him before he’s ready, he just acts like you don't exist. He’s hurt, and his anger is the only thing keeping him from forbidden tears. Just give him some space man!

Marko

Marko would be the most hurt out of the group. The sound is just sickening. There he was, holding you to him, deep inside when your voice said… the wrong name? The horror makes his stomach drop, he immediately lifts himself off to look at you still lost in pleasure even as he’s stopped. He's so hard to read, you don't even realize you've hurt him until he's pulled himself out and off of you.

He wouldn’t speak, or move for a solid 30 minutes. Just silently sitting on the edge of the bed, if you tried to speak he wouldn’t even turn to look at you. His muscles are rigid, wound tight in knots. He’s imploding from the inside, it’s impossible for him to keep his vampire rage subdued, so in a fury he leaves. Marko is not fucking around right now. You’ve screwed up, majorly. He thinks you’ve been cheating on him, and if there’s something Marko takes very seriously, it’s loyalty. He needs to get to get the fuck away from you, because he’s not sure if he can control himself for much longer, and despite his suspicions he doesn't want to hurt you.

Unlike Paul or Dwayne, when he returns Marko will not talk this out. You honestly shouldn’t have stayed, you should have left when he was gone because he’s still seething when you try to explain yourself. No. You're in the fucking wrong and he's not budging. He will not be hearing any of your bullshit excuses, whatever you throw out doesn’t matter! It's a dumb move he'd expect from Paul, but not from you. Part of him is almost tempted to just try to work things out, but Marko doesn’t trust easily and you’ve not just damaged his trust, you’ve damaged his self esteem. When he heads to the caves and you’re still here he’s had enough.

“Get out…”

“Wh-What?”

Marko flares his fangs at you, blood still staining his mouth. “GET. THE FUCK. OUT.”

You will not be back in that hotel for a long time, if ever again. Marko will avoid you for a while, and I’m talking months here. It’s not just a silent treatment, if he sees you approaching he will start up his motorcycle and ride away- with or without the other guys. He can’t even look at you. If we’re being realistic here, Marko probably won't be able to be intimate with you again. He can’t look past it. All he can see is you calling for someone else, in your heated climax in his arms, utterly exposed, and you desired someone else. He has more self respect for himself than the others, so more than likely he will break up with you!

He’s hurt. It's a cluster of emotions, all of them feel horrid. Rage, pain, sorrow, betrayal. How could you do this? Have you seen him? (like bruhhhhhh where you gonna find a man that rocks a crop top as good as him? where?) He definitely went on a killing spree right after. He needs to release his rage, it’s so pent up he doesn’t know how else to handle it. There would be blood everywhere, there wouldn’t even be any bodies left behind. Everything is utter carnage. Marko would need some serious alone time from everyone, he wouldn't talk to the other boys for at least a few hours.

Paul is furious at you when they find out what you did. You're fucking dead! Marko means so much to them, and you meant so much to Marko! This was his best friend! They let you into their coven, they trusted you with their brother, and you genuinely broke this poor baby’s heart! Hope you don’t have any unfinished business. Say your prayers and make amends now, because you're packing for your funeral buddy. David even hunts down anyone with the name you called and kills them, and he’ll be sure you know. You don’t hurt his friends, you’re lucky that he’s allowing you to draw breath from this miserable planet.

Afterwards, Marko does not go into another relationship for years. Maybe even a decade. It hurts him to go back on the boardwalk. Everything reminds him of you. The ferris wheel where you guys had your first kiss, the food stands he’d take you to, the arcade where he’d kick your butt at Mortal Kombat. Even more so is the sight of you. He doesn’t want to run into you at all. Even the sound of your name, anything to do with you makes him feel down or enraged. He already had trust issues before you, now he wasn’t nearly as willing to be trusting to anyone but his brothers. The next s/o he has, if he ever decides to have another, will definitely be picking up the pieces.

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