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yanderecandystore · 3 years

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hellu, can I request how would Delinquents, teachers, and bullies react to female reader pepper-sprayed the twins for self-defense when they try to beat up reader?

Hello, it's been a while, I'm sorry it took so long- I've been dealing with a lot of school assignments and I can't lie that I have frequent breakdowns over this-

I'll try and upload the requests that I already have and see if I should open up for requests again, or leave it be closed until the waves of work I need to do gets less overwhelming.

I hope y'all are doing great, stay safe everyone.

I'll make this a very short scenario boo.

TW: this is basically a civil war at this point- // for each pair, I'll add a different context (since technically the delinquents aren't from the same institution as the bullies) // female reader // bullying // self defense // anxiety // bullying (verbal and physical) // mentions of stalker behavior and brief mentions of distrust and paranoia

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Triple Spice combo [Yandere!Teachers / Yandere!Delinquents / Yandere!Bullies x F!Reader - Scenario]:

🎇Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

So I'll explain what will happen- This is basically a post with three different timelines, each one based on each character type you're more interested in (example: you want some sour delinquents? You can follow the delinquent timeline and see how they react). Each follows almost similar circumstances, but still a bit differently to be able to fit for each individual timeline.

Come with me boo cause this one is long!

🎆: 🍒Bully's Timeline🍭

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to confront people physically, and you don't really feel like capable of fighting people of on your own, but because with their constant presence in your life you started to feel the need to get yourself prepared for what was going to come- Especially since you didn't feel like you could count on anyone.

You bought pepper spray in hopes of being able to stop your tormentors from continuing with their sick game.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍒Bullies🍭:

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that she couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- AAAAH!- what?- OH MY GOD-" Alexandra wasn't able to even finish her sentence, the pain was too much for her to handle. As she dropped to the ground trying to clean her eyes out, she couldn't help but feel confused as to what had even happened.

How could you do something so cruel to her?? Yes, she followed you, bullied you, made rumours about you, pulled your hair a couple of times and maybe she did throw insults towards you- But she didn't try to blind you!!

The worst part isn't even the humiliation she is going through, it's the fact you thought you would be able to pull a stunt like this and go away without any scars- She is so, absolutely livid by your stupidity.

Alexandra knows you must be liking this- And you know what? Enjoy your last free moments cause she will make sure you'll pay for it. She'll make sure to have a proper revenge under her sleeve, a proper punishment for harming someone like her in public.

Darling, darling, I hope you start looking behind your back from now on, never know what could happen when the person who is obsessed with you is just as insanely pissed off as they're madly in love with you.

→ Adrien Coldwell:

It was so fast and so painful that he couldn't even understand what just happened- Like- How dare you?! How fucking dare you?!! You think this is funny? This wasn't supposed to happen at all!

"- What- Oh my God I'm DYING!-" Adrien would be a lot more dramatic about it, even if he can articulate in great detail how much it hurts. In his panicked state, he started trying to wipe the substance with his sleeves- Which only helped to spread it more.

How fucking dare you not only hurt his precious eyes but also humiliate him on public like this?! What has gotten into you?? Yeah- I guess he did say hurtful stuff, followed you around to torment you, did throw stuff at you- But ya know- He didn't try to take your eyeballs out!?? Now that he thinks about it, he probably should have.

Adrien has a very weird view on your "relationship"- He thinks you're above him and so he must push you down, he loves you but being gentle with you will leave you to pull this kind of shit.

You're probably laughing to yourself now, the man is temporarily blind and you are laughing at him, you're somehow worse than he thought.

Still, he'll make you pay for it, don't worry about it dearest- You're fucked regardless. You tried to stand against him and now sadly he'll have to put you in your place again. Don't worry, it won't be so early- He still needs to prepare his plan.

🎆: 🍎Teacher's Timeline📕

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Unfortunately for you, they seem to be heading to the same location as you, apparently they also studied there- Although it should have been quite obvious. You're not the type to get physical when it comes to defending yourself, but you felt that you still needed to do something about it- You talked with the only person you could trust in this moment, since they were your mentor and you needed some guidance from someone that could potentially help you solve this out.

Their idea was to be able to personally see the harassment happening so they could have visual proof of who is doing what to you, hopefully being able to expel the ones causing you harm.

They personally gave you pepper spray in hopes that if they aren't near you to help you, you can at least defend yourself in some way.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍎Teachers📕:

→ Matthew Robinson:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Matthew has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for his guidance. It was a call for help and he would have been a horrible mentor to not make sure you'll follow his instructions, and it seemed like you did perfectly fine.

He got to be present to not only see the ones causing you harm, but also to see how well you're able to take care of yourself. He was going to intervene as soon as he saw them come closer, but you managed to stop them all by yourself- Honestly he is very proud of you for being able to stand your ground.

Since Matthew was able to see them starting the aggression just like many other witness surrounding the scene, he felt like he had an argument strong enough to be able to properly punish your bullies- Of course he is aware that the Coldwells have a reputation for getting staff members fired for trying to reprimanding them, but honestly he has been inside this place long enough already.

Getting fired isn't his problem, his problem is not being able to give them what they deserve for frightening you, and even worse than that: He needed to make sure you would stay safe in and out of college- You came to him saying they were following you outside of your classes, so of course he'll be worried for your safety.

After expelling the Coldwells, Matthew will just need to find a way of keeping you safe and under his surveillance, you may need more guidance after all, and it would be extremely worrying to not have you by his side. He just needs to plan out a better schedule for you two, one where he can be more present in your life after you're done with your classes.

I wonder what plan comes to his mind.

→ Madeline Allen:

Although you thought to be in a situation where no one would be able to help you- Causing you to use your only item of self-defense- That couldn't have been further from the truth, as Madeline has made sure to pay close attention to you after you came by and ask for her guidance. Madeline has been following you while you walked through the school's halls as she recorded every interaction you had with any of the other students. After you called her for help she entered full protection mode, she was set on getting your tormentors expelled.

However, Madeline hasn't been inside the institution to be able to earn the trust of the other teachers, or even the principal themselves- She needed some evidence and better witness testimony than those from students who were terrified of getting in trouble with the bullies around this place. You could say she had a guess as to who could be causing you trouble but she wouldn't be allowed to take action unless she could prove their identity and involvement in bullying you.

She gave you the pepper spray hoping you would feel less worried, to feel calmer in knowing you had not only something that you could use against them but also to symbolize how she would be there for you if you needed. Seeing you using it for the first time as you spray in the eyes of the culprits made her realize that she was in fact correct. Of course it's them, right?

If there is something wrong happening in Amaryllis, you can almost always pin it for being the Coldwell's fault. Bullying it's probably the least surprising thing this little demons have been accused of- Still, their rein over this institution and your worried little mind ends today, she doesn't care if she lost her job or if they try ruining her life by blackmailing her and such-

They can try but she is pretty sure they won't have any luck finding her, what can I say, she is good at burning evidence. What worries her though it's what will happen to you if they ever try to take their frustrations out on you again. She can't allow that to happen, you'll end up getting hurt and she'll feel awful if it was because of her interference in the case.

You need her help after all, right? You did come to her asking for guidance, and clearly you know nothing about physical self-defense- You clearly need someone to take care of you dearest. She needs to plan this out carefully, not only so the twins aren't allowed in school's grounds but to hopefully be able to guide you even if she is not your teacher anymore. But how could she have you near her everyday after classes?

I wonder what plan comes to her mind.

🎆: 🍋Delinquent's Timeline🐍

You have been the target of bullying for some weeks now, ever since you crossed some rich kids while going to your college. Fortunately for you, they didn't seem to go the same college as you did- Yet what you should have known was that nothing in life could have been so simple, you would still see them again over and over again after that incident. You started to feel anxious knowing that they were probably stalking you to know exactly when and where to find you, and since you already have to deal with going to a horrible institution and fearing for your own safety everyday.

You bought pepper spray so you could defend yourself not only from your stalkers but also from any possible classmate that could end up trying something weird with you.

That's when the incident happened, you were minding your own business when they came looking for trouble. You took the opportunity to finally put a stop on this by spraying their eyes with it.

✳️🍋Delinquents🐍:

→ Jackson Macnee:

He doubts you noticed that he was there when that happened, he doubts that you even care if he is staring at you at all- He always thought you were probably too scared of him to even tell him to stop, most people aren't scared of his appearance but are at least aware of his title, so they at least respect the path he walks. He is already used to this.

But let me tell you, to see the Coldwells come so near his territory seemed pretty interesting at first- Until he discovered why they were dumb enough to come here. He didn't know you were being bullied, let alone by these brats- He did notice you had changed your behavior recently, although he didn't pay any attention to it because he thought you were just getting accustomed with the way things work around Saint's Bernard hellhole of a place.

He was hoping that maybe you were just having issues with settling in- It is a rough place after all, and although he wishes deep down to be able to help you feel stronger he still feels like he shouldn't make you do something you don't want to. If you wished to talk to him, you should just go straight to him (even if he is aware of how terrifying that could be).

However, Jack was so far from the truth. His assumptions were confirmed fake after he saw the twins Coldwell treat you like he treated him- It was unbearable to watch, it was like he was seeing his past collide with his present self, you were reminding him of all the things he hated about himself, while also bringing his blood to boil in a desperate need to help you out. Yet he didn't need to do anything about it, you managed to defend yourself on your own.

It wasn't as rewarding to watch as he wanted it to be, but you sure did crack their ego pretty badly- He shouldn't have doubted you, after all he has been stalking you for so long, he should have known what you were capable of doing. Still, he doesn't trust the Coldwells enough to just let them run away like that, they would probably come back soon.

In the meantime, this should be a good excuse to get to talk with you, right? You clearly need some actual training, some flimsy pepper spray bottle isn't going to stop them from coming back. I hope you're ready to be trained by a lovesick delinquent, he won't be soft until he knows you can stand on your own.

→ Jannette Sartorius

She doubts you noticed that she was there when that happened, she doubts that you even care if she is staring at you at all- She always thought you were probably too scared of her to even tell her to stop, most people are scared of her. She is trying to get used to it.

Janette thinks she has every reason to observe you from afar, you're beautiful and you seem too precious to be in a place as horrible as this one, it must suck a lot for you to be somewhere like this-Seeing people like her.

She considered calling you to join her gang, but she is sure that you'll probably deny the offer- Physical confrontation was never your thing right? She can respect that.

Although you don't talk with her, or even interact with the other students at all, she did notice you were acting a bit more- Reclusive these days. Something was wrong, and sadly she would have to find out about it way too late.

Janette didn't know the twins personally, she knew they were rich and famous but- Yeah, she didn't really care about knowing anything about them, they're just some pretty faces amongst the others in the fashion industry. She does envy them a little bit, but tries to avoid anything relating to them since she feels self-conscious looking at their pictures. Now she has a new reason to hate their porcelain faces, they were stalking you.

They were stalking you and taunting you, and if you didn't do anything to stop them she would have already jumped in. They were alone, and honestly she doubts they have any idea of how to go one on one with someone- There is no way these brats have any experience in fighting, right?

Well, she didn't get to know that since they ran away after you sprayed their faces with pepper spray, clever girl.

She knows this is probably not the end of this, they did threaten to come back and hurt you for defending yourself. But you know- She doesn't plan on letting that happen, not again. Consider yourself lucky cause now you just got a new best friend who I set on protecting you.

Is there something wrong with that? Aren't you happy with being her friend? Well, you could just go to "girlfriends" if that's what you want- She wouldn't mind it at all.

Janette prefers to take care of you without you having to watch her beat someone's ass- But she could teach you a few things if you wished to, hey, spending time with someone so cool it's always nice, so of course she'll take every chance she can to spend as much time with you as possible.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

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ktarsims · 2 years

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Check In Tag!

I was tagged by @siancyaniam. Thank you!

Why did you choose your URL?

Once upon a time, a very long time ago now, I discovered role-playing in a furry community back when I had not even a concept of what ‘furry’ meant. I ran a role-playing guild there for a while, based on FFVIII, and at one point I ran a contest to name the world. My own submission was: K’tarianen - which did not win the votes. Since it wasn’t going to be used there, I’ve since used various forms of it for my online nicknames, or sometimes character names.

How long have you been on tumblr?

One of my first posts on this blog was actually the Pattern Hoarder Tutorial, which was made in Jan. 2017. So... about five and a half years now? I actually do have a personal tumblr that I almost never look at anymore, which was created at least five years before that.

Do you have a queue tag?

I do not. Nearly everything I post runs through my queue or is scheduled though.

Why did you start your blog in the first place?

I started it in order to post the Pattern Hoarder Tutorial in a place where it could be seen and would not soon disappear or be lost. Patterns used to be the only CC I actually used, and I hadn’t found a tutorial for multi-layer (or multi-color channel) patterns, so I wanted to share what I’d figured out with everyone else.

These days I consider that I ought to turn it into PDF’s so that it could be easily uploaded anywhere. Perhaps someday I’ll make time for that.

Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

My icon is a crop of a photo of my simself. Perhaps someday I’ll change it, but I’m fairly satisfied with it.

Why did you choose your header?

Uh. I don’t think I have a header.. do I? *goes to look* OH. I do. LMAO. It’s the music room of the Olijar mansion which I spent far too much time on and was extremely pleased with when I had finished. They’re supposed to be the main family in my main save, but I think so far they’ve actually had less ‘screen time’ than some of the other households.

What’s your post with the most notes?

Perhaps unsurprisingly, a tips post I made forever ago with things I find very valuable knowledge in-game.

How many mutuals do you have?

I have... not the faintest idea, honestly. I did a google search to figure out how to find that out, but met only with more confusion.

How many followers do you have?

Looks like the current count is 880, for whatever that’s worth. As a note, I don’t really keep track, nor do I check to see if people unfollow me, nor do I spend time to try to block people who might be inactive, bots, etc.

How many people do you follow?

458 currently. I feel like this number used to be higher, but probably some blogs were lost to Tumblr’s shenanigans, and some people deleted their blogs. I follow almost exclusively blogs who post TS3 content, as it’s the only game in the series I’ve yet played, but I do follow a few TS2 blogs. I’m also pretty picky in that I require posts to be properly tagged, for there not to be too many of them all the time, and usually for there to not be too many CC reblogs. I follow most creators directly, and a few CCfinds blogs in case I miss things, and don’t like to constantly see the same thing over and over again on my dash. Which I actually do keep up with most of the time.

Have you ever made a shitpost?

Uh. I think someone would have to define for me what a shitpost is before I could answer this question. xD I have heard the term a lot, but don’t actually know what it means, precisely. (When you use sarcasm to call something out?)

How often do you use tumblr every day?

Typically, every day. Though some days get skipped if I am too busy. And a few times, several months were skipped due to life taking over.

Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

I try to keep any disagreements I might have with other members of the sims 3 fandom on tumblr to private disagreements. Publicly posted arguments tend to blow up far too quickly and can result in unwanted consequences.

How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

Emotional manipulation has long been a tactic to get people to spread things they’d otherwise ignore. It doesn’t really work on me. I’ll reblog it if I feel the message is worth sharing, and appropriate to my blog, or important enough to be shared here regardless of what it’s about.

Do you like tag games?

I think tag games are kinda fun, I just rarely find the time to participate in them. ^-^;;

Do you like ask memes?

Since most of my gameplay is strictly gameplay without any well defined stories to accompany them, I usually don’t have much to say for ask memes. Sometimes they’re fun! Sometimes I just have no clue what I’d say.

Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

Since, to my surprise, a lot of the creators I follow actually also follow me, I’d say there’s quite a few, so I won’t bother name-dropping.

Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I’m long past the age of crushes. xD They’re also very rare for me.

Ill tag: @murfeelee @simlicious @simsmono

#ts3 tumblr meme #ts3 simblr meme #nonsims #non sims #personal

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s-creations · 3 years

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Oh, That Imagination

Kids will always have active imaginations. But how the adult handles it depends on what the child is afraid of.

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros Rating: General Audience Relationships/Pairings: José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles Additional Tags: Growing up, Uncles with their Nephews, Facing Fears, Worries, hunting a creature, Krampus (character), giving a speech, watching a scary movie, protecting the boys, the passing of time, names OCs.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author Note: I finished Student Teaching and passed my Content Test, so I’m getting back into writing! I do have a new job lined up for the school year. We’ll see how consistent I stay with uploading. XD

“Unca Donald, Unca Donald, Unca Donald!”

Even with the loud warning call, Donald still staggers when something blue collides against his leg. “Dishes! I’m doing dishes. Go and sit on the counter please.”

6-year-old Dewey gave a quick nod before clamoring up. The older duck impressed by how quickly the duckling could climb.

“Now, what can I help you with?”

“Benny said there’s a-a monster living in the sewage of Duckberg! I wanna go catch it!”

Donald let out a low hum as he washed the soap from the glass. This was twice in two weeks that neighbor Benny had told some story about some ‘creature’ they had seen. Dewey, always on the lookout for new adventures, ate each story up with determination and gusto.

“I see, very interesting. What does this monster look like?”

“Like...Like an alligator. Only bigger!”

“Ooooh, that sounds scary. And you’re going to catch them all by yourself?”

“Yep!”

“Well, aren’t you brave. Are you going to bring them back to be studied for science?”

“I’m gonna do it to rub it in Huey’s face. Cuz he says the creature isn’t real. But I’m gonna prove him wrong!”

“It sounds like your afternoon is full.”

“It sure is! Oh, wait, I wanted to ask you if we have a large net that I could use?”

“I don’t think we have a ‘large’ net. You’ll have your bug catching net.”

Dewey let out a contemplative hum. Hand resting on his cheek while his pointer finger tapped out some unknown tempo. A habit he picked up from José. “That’s not great. But I suppose it’ll have to do.”

“Look at you compromising. What are you going to use as bait?”

“Do we have any old lunch meat?”

“No and you’re not using what we have in the fridge.”

“You’re ruining the search Unca Donald! I need bait.”

“How about you take Tio Panchito with you? He had to help his grandpa search for farm animals when they got out of their pens. Didn’t have to use bait to get those animals back.”

“Tio worked on a farm?” Dewey’s eyes lit up hearing this new piece of information.

“Spent a few childhood Summers there.”

“What did he do?”

“Why don’t you go and ask him? I’m sure he would be more than happy to share stories with you and your brothers.”

“Okay, bye Unca Donald! I’m gonna learn about cows!”

Donald silently laughed as Dewey raced out of the kitchen. Childhood stories continued during dinner and only ended when the triplets were put to bed.

“So...should I question why Dewey furiously ran at me this afternoon? All while screaming his demands for me to tell stories?” The rooster asked as Donald joined him and José on the living room couch.

“Apparently, Benny had seen some ‘creature’ in the sewer system. Dewey determined that he was going to hunt said being down. I told him you would help in the search because you’ve helped with finding lost farm animals. That caught his attention and now you know the outcome.” Donald sighed as he leaned against the other, relaxing.

“Do you think the thrill of the hunt will call out to Dewey tomorrow?”

“We’ll see.” Donald replied back simply.

The hunt did not call out the next day. Dewey focused on creating a backyard zoo, he didn’t have time to worry about some creature. A few days later, a pet iguana was rescued from the neighborhood sewers. It appears Benny had actually seen something. It just wasn’t the towering creature he’d claimed before.

________________

The holidays were busy for all the adults in the household. Donald focused on getting the shopping done and holding down the fort while the ducklings raced around during their school break. Gleefully talking about Santa and what present they’re excited most about. José would be gone for weeks on end leading up to December 25, helping with numerous flights to make sure he had that day off. Starting from October through December, this time saw Panchito with booked weekends of different performances to help get other families into the festive feeling.

Even with having busy and exhausting schedules, they made sure to make time for the triplets. Baking, decorating the house, helping them pick out gifts for the other family members. Every year it was the goal to keep the ducklings as happy as possible.

Which is why Panchito became worried when 7-year-old Louie started acting...strange. Almost what the rooster would call ‘stressed’.

The duckling had started being overly helpful around the house. Doing more tasks than what would be required. Going out of his way to ask if he could help. And, most worriedly, he’d become quiet. Not in his normal way of just relaxing in front of the television. But almost fearful that he was being listened to by some unseen stranger. Eyes even darting around as he moved through the apartment.

Unfortunately, Panchito wasn’t able to approach this possible problem until a weekend late into the duckling’s break.

The rooster let out a sigh as he collapsed onto the couch. Thankful that he was done until the New Year’s celebrations he had the coming weekend. But he was able to relax for the rest of the week to celebrate Christmas. Cautious footsteps drawing closer caused Panchito to open his eyes. Finding Louis standing nervously in the middle of the room.

“Hola Louie, what can I do for you?”

“Um, do you need me to get you anything?”

Panchito raised a brow. “No, I’m fine. Why don’t you join me until dinner’s ready?”

“Oh, um, that’s okay. Maybe I should see if Uncle Donald needs any help.”

“You’re on break. Why don’t you just sit for a while?” The duckling frowned, eyes darting around before settling onto the couch. Still tense. “So, how has school been? I haven’t heard you and your brothers talk about it for a while.”

“Uh...good.”

“Just good? ...Try out any new schemes lately? I know Uncle Donald isn’t so thrilled when you do that. But you always have such clever ideas, makes me laugh.”

“Nope, I’ve been good! No crazy plans from me!”

Panchito sat up a little more when Louie started shouting at the ceiling. “Okay Louie, what’s going on. Are you feeling okay? Did something happen at school?”

The duckling dressed in green wrung his hands as he peered around.

“...Abby told me about the Krampus…” Louie eventually whispered.

“The who?”

“The Krampus! He’s the opposite of Santa Claus! A big creature with long horns and wears a cloak! And he comes after bad boys and girls! He takes them away in his large, greasy bag and they’re never seen again and-”

“Okay, Louie, come here. You’re getting yourself worked up.” Panchito easily and quickly moved the duckling onto his lap. Wrapping arms around the smaller form to help keep Louie grounded. “Breath with me. We’re going to take a few deep breaths, okay?”

Louie gave two quick nods. They remained this way for a few minutes, Panchito holding the duckling close and controlling his breathing for Louie to follow. The rooster only pulled away when Louie had calmed down enough to talk. “Okay, so, you were told a scary story. Why are you worried?”

“Because he goes after bad kids and I know I’m...not good.”

“Why would you say that? You’re a wonderful kid!”

“But I get the most detentions and I’m lazy and I know I don’t do my homework when I need to and-”

‘Louie… Yes, we would like you to work a little harder than what you do now. But you’re not bad. You...take risks. You have a point of view that I’ve never seen before. You’re a clever kid. And, well, between you and me.”

Panchito leaned closer. Louie’s eyes widened with curiosity. “You fight the system and you don’t let them beat you down.”

“...Does that mean I don’t have to wash the dishes?”

“Don’t push your luck. What I’m trying to say is that you’re not bad. You just think differently than others. Plus, if you’re this worried, this might be a sign you should help out more. But I doubt any Krampus will come after you.”

“Really?”

“Really… Also, you know your uncles and I would beat up any creature who dares try to hurt you.”

Louie laughed. Beaming and squirming as Panchito placed a kiss on his cheek. Christmas Day arrived with no mysterious creatures knocking in their front door. Louie was still safely tucked away in his bed. Joining his brothers with running out to the living room and unwrapping presents. Curling next to Panchito as all enjoyed the afternoon glow while watching a marathon of movies.

________________

Huey took to the Junior Woodchucks like a duck to water.

From day one it became a large part of his identity. He carried his handbook around with him everywhere. Writing his own notes and entries to add to the already thick volume. Gleefully patting his knees as he patiently waited for whatever uncle was going to take him to the weekly meetings. Even learning how to iron his uniform to keep it in tip top shape.

Dewey may complain that the eagerness was annoying. But nothing seemed to damper Huey’s spirit.

Until Huey was tasked to write a speech. As he was top ranked among the troop, he was given the honor of addressing the new member that would be joining that year. A banquet being held with the duckling presenting a speech of his own at the beginning of the event. The duckling was absolutely thrilled at first. Telling everyone he could about the great honor bestowed onto him.

All in the family thought he would triumph over this just like many other things in his life.

José was humming softly one evening, making his way to the kitchen when he heard sniffing coming from the bathroom. The door opened a crack and, taking a risk, José peered in. He found 8-year-old Huey, curled up by the tub and far away from the door. A stack of paper was at the duckling’s feet. Red rimmed eyes glaring at said stack.

“Huey?”

Said duckling’s head snapped up hearing José. Wiping his eyes frantically. “T-Tio José…”

“Criança doce, what is wrong?” José entered, leaving the door open in case Huey wanted out.

The duckling sniffed weakly. “...I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“My speech…”

José frowned, knowing how excited Huey had been only a few days ago. “Can you tell me what you are scared about?”

Huey let out another sniff. His hand starting to hit the side of the tub as time went on. Which José put a stop to by reaching out to take the duckling’s hand. “I’m scared...that people are going to laugh at me. I keep practicing my speech to make it perfect and I read a bunch of tips but… All I can think about is messing up and people mocking me. Then my scout leader will see me as a failure and strip me of my badges and-”

The parrot pulled the duckling closer, humming a lullaby softly. Huey instantly clung to José, burying himself away in his guardian’s chest. It took a few minutes before the duckling finally relaxed, slumped against the older, hand still keeping a good grip on José's shirt.

“Huey, I would like for you to listen to me. Can you do that for me?” José received a nod, “I will help you with your speech. But you have nothing to worry about. Your scout leader seems to be nothing of the kind who would take away what you’ve achieved. And no one will laugh. We all know you will be doing your best.”

“...But what if my best isn’t enough?”

“It always will be Huey. Never doubt that.” José peered up hearing the floorboards creek. Finding Donald standing in the doorway wearing a look of worry. The parrot gave a quick shake of his head. A silent message that he had a handle on the situation. Donald gave a nod of his own before sneaking off. “Feeling better?”

“...A little. I’m still scared.”

“That is fine. How about we make some cookies? I think I saw your Uncle Donald heading that way before. And while we are doing that, you can show me your speech.”

Huey sniffed weakly. Pulling back slightly to look up at José. “Chocolate chip?”

“Of course.”

The duckling smiled weakly and nodded. Donald greeted the two with wide arms and a smile when they walked in. Huey beamed as he was picked up and given a sturdy hug from his other uncle as José started the process. But uncles gave Huey their undivided attention when he gave his speech. The other members of the family joined them as the cookies started to bake. Dewey and Louie keeping their ‘helpful’ comments to themselves and clapping along when Huey finished.

At the night of the banquet, Huey beamed as he gave a flawless speech. His family cheered the loudest.

________________

“This is such a bad idea.”

9-year-old Louie huffed, rolling his eyes as Huey bemoaned at his flawless plan. “If you’re going to be a stick in the mud, then don’t watch.”

“But I want to see it.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“The movie is PG-13! We need parental guidance to watch.”

“You know they won’t let us watch.” Dewey added.

“But-”

“You get two options here Hubert,” Louie interrupted. One hand holding up a finger to keep Huey quiet. The other holding the latest zombie movie that had just recently been release to DVD, “You either watch with your mouth shut. Or you leave and keep your mouth shut in the bed while you listen to the amazingness that is this movie from the closed doors. What’s it going to be?”

Huey frowned. But he ‘zipped’ his bill closed and crossed his arms. Which the green-hoodied triplet took as keeping his mouth shut. With a nod, Louie popped the movie in and sat next to his brothers. All three were huddled together in the closet. Eyes glued to the small t.v. screen that was crammed in with them as well. The movie menu soon appeared and Dewey pressed play.

Donald let out a content sigh as he relaxed further between his partners. Panchito clinging to him as Donald’s head was tucked under the rooster’s chin. While José was curled up at Donald’s side, using the duck’s chest as a pillow. That night was quiet and calm. There was a weekend ahead of them that was just filled with nothing. A relaxing time with his partners and kids. It was going to be great…

A chorus of screams sounded from the triplet’s room. All adults were up and racing out in only a few seconds. Even hard to wake José was on full alert. Donald reached the door first, flinging it open. Fully expecting to see an intruder standing in the middle of the bedroom. Only to find Huey and Louie, sobbing as they clung to each other on the younger triplet’s bed. Dewey was waving his plastic sword at the open closet. His entire being was shaking as wide, fearful eyes were on the open space.

“What is going on here?” Donald called out over the noise.

“There’s a zombie in the closet!” Louis answered.

“It touched me!” Huey added.

“I’m fighting it off!” Dewey finished.

“What- okay- Dewey stop swinging that around!” Panchito walked over and pulled the sword from the duckling. Collecting the blue cladded triplet as he continued to shake.

Donald gathers the other two. Both of them desperately slings to the protection that was their uncle. José took to the closet, making sure it was empty. The parrot raised a brow, finding the t.v. that was still on and playing a movie.

He reached in to eject the movie and brought it out for the other two to see. “Donald.”

The duck looked it over. Frowning, seeing the topic, letting out a slow breath. It was clear the triplets were in no condition to have a stern talking to. Plus, he was honestly too tired to worry about it at the moment. “Okay...let’s go back to our room.”

The other two adults nodded. José turned off the lights as he was the last to leave the boy’s room. Donald rested himself back into the middle of the bed, only with more bodies pressed around him. Panchito cleverly left the bedside light on before he laid down on the bed, Dewey resting on his chest. The triplets flinched when José walked in.

“It is just me.” The parrot assured.

Donald let out a sigh as he gently preened the top of each head. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to get you.”

The bed was pressed further down as José laid down. Huey clamoring over into the parrot’s hold. Donald was free to wrap both arms around Louie. Three voices began to hum a familiar lullaby in hope of calming the triplets further. Even with their comforting presence, it took awhile for the three to fall asleep. It was not the way Donald wanted to start his weekend. But he should have known nothing he plans ever goes his way. Even with this hiccup, he was happy to have his family close. Falling asleep with a smile on his face.

Donald was able to take his pent up frustration on the idiot who had allowed children to rent a horror movie. Panchito coming as back up to make sure the duck didn’t kill anyone.

#donald duck #Jose Carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations

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galli-writes · 3 years

Photo

(Click here to read on Ao3!)

fandom: Teen Titans

pairing: BBRae

genre/warnings: AU - Canon Divergence; Implied/Referenced Abuse, Abusive Parents, Childhood Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Violence

additional tags: Angst, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Protectiveness, Slow Burn, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions

summary:

There are a few things that Beast Boy knows for certain:

He’s 21….and a total lightweight. He’s a vegan (but not like…a pretentious vegan). He’s not going to be single forever.

And the Teen Titans are the only family he’ll ever need.

a/n: Hello everyone! I am finally back--though in a way I guess I never really left. I've been working on this fic on an off since I last posted, but things have been so busy that it's been rather slow going. I'm going to try REALLY hard to keep to a more consistent schedule going forward. The fic is entirely written, but needs some pretty heavy editing. I'm going to shoot for an upload every other Friday from here on out. Thank you all so much for being patient!

Chapter 5: A Helping Hand (words 6,264)

It wasn’t often that Beast Boy played hooky. At least, not when he thought there was a good chance Robin would catch him. Skipping practice was a serious no-go, outside of a few exceptions. Beast Boy knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign sickness. The ‘family emergency’ excuse existed strictly as a formality for obvious reasons. Reasons that were starting to seem less obvious now.

The letter in his drawer was already old news--at least to him. Beast Boy knew the contents of the note by heart. The memorization wasn’t intentional, but the words swam around in his head constantly nonetheless. A symptom of a much larger disease, as Raven might have put it. So he’d moved on to obsessively deconstructing and reconstructing the many packages that still littered their living room. Not that doing so had given him any more insight into who Nicholas Galtry was. Or why he had had possession of all of his parents’ things. Or why they were here now. Among the many disjointed thoughts that rattled in his brain, one consistently nudged its way to the top of the pool. That one was also tucked neatly away in a drawer in his room. Though he hadn’t dared to look at the picture since first putting it there.

Beast Boy glanced behind him at the clock in the kitchen. He’d been here an hour already--someone was probably already out looking for him, Robin’s orders. He quickly shut the box he was currently sorting through. It had been the same as all the boxes before it--filled with priceless, nameless items from another place and another time. He felt like a thief, searching his own belongings, not knowing what exactly he hoped to find among them. Each time carefully packing the boxes back as he’d found them. Like a thief, hoping to cover his tracks.

“There you are.”

Beast Boy flinched, instantly shrinking back from the box in front of him. He turned around to face Cyborg looming over him.

“Man, I’ve been lookin’ for you everywhere ,” Cyborg said, a twinge of frustration in his voice. “What the hell are you doin’ up here?”

“Nothing,” Beast Boy said, anxiously getting to his feet. “Just...hanging out.”

Cyborg frowned. “Well maybe you should come ‘hang out’ at training.”

“Training?” Beast Boy repeated automatically.

“Yeah, you know...the thing we have scheduled every single afternoon? At the exact same time? Every day?” Cyborg said, cocking an eyebrow at him. Now he seemed more confused than frustrated—a switch that was very typically Cyborg.

“Right. Training. I was wondering where everyone else was,” Beast Boy answered. It was a poor excuse, but it wasn’t actually a lie.

Cyborg sighed, but there was a hint of a joking smile on his face when he spoke next. “Let’s just get down there before Robin kicks both our asses, okay?”

Beast Boy nodded, and for a moment it was as if the boxes behind him ceased to exist. It currently felt like there were two worlds jammed under one roof, and now that he’d been pulled out of the one behind him, he saw just how much he preferred the one in front of him. Even if it meant getting his ass kicked.

The training field had come a long way from the public school playground it resembled when they’d first settled into the Tower. It was Robin’s ongoing project--adding another ropes course, integrating fully automated sparring dummies...there were even obstacles designed with each of their abilities in mind. Beast Boy was sure that Robin had a Pinterest board dedicated to the fiasco for all of the crazy things he was constantly adding to it.

Which is why Beast Boy was confused to find that none of it was being used.

“Oh no. Don’t tell me--”

“Yep,” Cyborg said, walking the opposite direction of Robin’s martial arts art display.

“Dude, I suck at hand to hand.”

“Probably why Robin thinks you ditched,” Cyborg shrugged.

In the distance, their three remaining teammates were gathered in a clearing at the opposite end of the field. Starfire stood leaning against a tree on the sidelines, water bottle in hand. In the center of a well-worn patch of grass, Robin and Raven circled each other in what seemed to be a never-ending dance.

“So when you said Robin was gonna kick my ass...you meant that literally, didn’t you?” Beast Boy said with a frown.

“Well it might not be Robin who kicks your ass,” Cyborg smiled. “It could be Star, or Raven, or yours truly.”

“Wow, thanks,” Beast Boy grumbled. He knew Cyborg was only teasing, and Beast Boy had been the first to admit that the skillset wasn’t exactly his strong suit. But the remark lingered in his mind a second longer than he knew it should have.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not really your thing, but hey,” Cyborg said, placing a hand on Beast Boy’s shoulder. “Practice makes perfect. You’ll get there.”

“Dude. I turn into animals for a living. Most of which don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Beast Boy said, flexing his own in front of his friend. “I don’t need to be good at something I’m never gonna use.”

Cyborg merely shook his head dismissively. “Never say never, man.”

“Okay, Robin ,” Beast Boy replied with a smirk.

As if on cue, Robin and Raven’s dance came to a halt as soon as the words left Beast Boy’s mouth. He had figured they were still out of earshot, but maybe he’d been wrong.

“There you two are,” Robin said as the two of them stepped into the loosely defined dirt ring. He glanced down at his watch and then directly at Beast Boy. “Beast Boy, you’re twenty minutes late. Practice starts at four. You know that.”

Any trace of teasing Cyborg had expressed instantly evaporated when Robin spoke.

“Uh...four-twenty blaze it?” Beast Boy said with a shrug and a terribly awkward smile. The one that always appeared on his face whenever he didn’t know what else to say--which was more often than he would have liked to admit.

Robin closed his eyes, raising a hand to his temples.

Raven’s facepalm was much less subtle.

“Starfire are you ready to go?” Robin asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Mmm hmm!” Starfire hummed in response.

“Great. Then I’m gonna have you and Beast Boy up next.”

“Uh…” Beast boy shot a glance at Starfire, who was practically the living portrait of an Instagram athlete. “Shouldn’t I warm up first or something?”

“In a real fight, you won’t always get the chance to ‘warm up’ beforehand,” Robin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Which was definitely his way of saying ‘that’s what you get for showing up late’.

“Don’t worry, Beast Boy,” Starfire smiled. “I will try not to injure you too terribly.”

Beast Boy certainly began to feel warm now, to the point where he was sure his face was turning red.

In his peripheral, he saw that Cyborg had cleared the training ring and was now standing beside Raven on the sidelines. She leaned in slightly to her left, whispering something into Cyborg’s ear with a devious smirk.

Beast Boy felt his stomach drop. He didn’t know what was worse. Starfire’s complete sincerity or Raven’s total lack thereof.

But he didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before it was overtaken completely by a harrowing sense of panic. He had been posed for a fight, staring head on at his partner. But it was only now that his vision snapped back into focus, just in time to catch a whirling ball of green energy headed directly toward him.

He quickly swerved out of the way, trying to regain his balance. But before he could find his footing, another blaze shone at his feet, knocking him straight to the ground. He squinted, eyes beginning to water from the dust cloud that now surrounded him. He wanted to open his mouth to say something--make some complaint that he hadn’t been ready, that there had been no signal to start. But he knew that wouldn’t buy him any sympathy in Robin’s eyes.

Of course, vying for Robin’s attention was even less of a no-go once the sirens started blaring.

Without so much as a nod from the leader in question, everyone took off in the same direction. Everyone except Beast Boy, who was still on the ground.

He pushed himself to his feet, the palms of his hands stinging against the soil. He knew it wasn’t personal. None of this was personal. Kind of like how the sense of isolation and strangeness he’d felt around his friends since the reading that letter certainly wasn’t personal .

But as he watched them disappearing now--not one of them looking back to see if he had followed--it sure felt that way.

So what if calling shotgun was more important than helping him up? He shook his head, now unable to hold back a self-satisfied smirk. No matter how much of a head start they had, no one was going to outrun a cheetah.

Within seconds, the ground flew under his feet like a treadmill set on max speed. When the garage came into view, Beast Boy was relieved to find that it was already open--and more importantly empty. In a flash, he transformed back, and with the same proud smile lingering on his face sauntered over to crack open the passenger door.

His smile instantly disappeared when he saw who was behind it.

“ Raven ?”

Even at her name, she didn’t so much as shoot him a glance. Raven just sat there, comfortably nestled in the passenger seat with her feet kicked up on the dashboard. She scrolled through her phone with a bored expression--like she’d been there for hours.

“How the hell did you beat me?” Beast Boy blurted out, feeling irrationally annoyed as Raven continued to sit there, chewing a piece of gum in silence.

“Want a piece?” she said absentmindedly, materializing a pack of DoubleMint from the locked glove box. There were dozens of other flavors inside--so many packs that they filled almost half the compartment. “It’s Cyborg’s secret stash--but I won’t tell.”

Beast Boy ignored her. “There’s no way you could have beaten me here. I took a shortcut even you don’t know about,” he said curtly.

“Weird, huh?” she said, turning her attention back to her phone. “It’s almost like magic. ”

Beast Boy frowned. “That’s cheating.”

“And you turning into a cheetah clearly isn’t,” she said plainly. Then another sly smile crept onto her face. “Get it? A cheetah ?”

Beast Boy’s face scrunched up in even further annoyance. Without a word, he shut the passenger door, opening the one behind it. He already knew which seat he’d be directed to sit in. Though even calling it a seat was a bit generous. Nevertheless, he’d occupied it since day one because, of course, ‘he was the shortest and it just made sense for him to ride in the middle because if they were ever in a crash the height of the headrest wouldn’t do anyone else any good blah blah blah’. As if something as normal as a car crash would really be enough to injure a bunch of superheroes.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” Cyborg said, swinging open the door to the driver’s seat and hopping inside.

As the doors on either side of him opened and closed in perfect sync, Beast Boy was struck with another harrowing consequence of his seating arrangement.

It was true that Robin and Starfire were relatively tame as far as couples went--at least in terms of explicit PDA. It was only once in a blue moon that you actually caught them exchanging so much as a kiss on the cheek. But there was no denying the magnetic force between them. And it was times like these that Beast Boy felt less like a person and more like a glitch jamming the radio signal.

“Okay,” Robin said, flicking open the communication device on his wrist. A small holographic map appeared above it, marking several heat signatures as they traversed the grid on the screen. In an instant, an identical image appeared on a screen in the center console of the car.

“Looks like they’ve already hit Gorman street,” Cyborg said, glancing at the center console.

“They’re moving fast,” Robin added, adjusting something on the device. “But only because they’ve sacrificed numbers for speed”.

“Well let’s just see if they can outrun this, ” Cyborg replied, revving the engine in response. Within moments, the Tower was far behind them.

Beast Boy leaned forward slightly to look out the window on his left. They hadn’t been driving long at all, but he had no idea where they were. Left and right, worn down warehouse buildings lined the streets as far as he could see. Overhead, a thick gray fog swallowed the entire sky.

“Starfire, I want you and Cy to go after the group of three heading west,” Robin continued, pointing to several figures on the map as he spoke. “I’ll go after the solo. Raven, Beast Boy—you two track the pair heading in the opposite direction.”

Raven didn’t outwardly protest, but her agitated sigh was enough to send its intended message.

After what seemed like only a second later, the car skidded to a halt at the edge of a narrow alley. And without missing a beat, everyone else took off in their respective directions at full speed. This time Beast Boy could confidently blame the middle seat for keeping him a step behind.

“I’ll race ya,” Beast Boy said, throwing a competitive smile at Raven, who had surprisingly seemed to be waiting for him.

“Just hurry up,” she said plainly, looking to the sky.

The streets seemed even more bleak from above.

Every other street light flickered as if choking out its dying breath. Cracks ran down the sidewalks like jagged scars, and chipped paint and graffiti adorned the walls of the decrepit buildings. Beast Boy found himself wondering where everyone was--there were barely even any cars on the streets.

“Ow!” Raven exclaimed suddenly.

Simultaneously, Beast Boy felt his wings crumple under him as he crashed into her from behind. He screeched involuntarily, trying to regain his balance.

“Why are we stopping?” he asked--or rather squawked--momentarily forgetting he was still very much a bird.

Luckily, Raven seemed to get the idea. Without a word, she pointed to two shadowy figures slipping around the corner of a nearby building. She started to open her mouth to say something then, but Beast Boy was already locking in on the figures below.

Without a second thought, he dove sharply down toward one of the shadows in his sight. Talons poised, he only managed to graze the top of his target’s head. Or at least what he could think of as being the thing’s head, as the action felt more like skimming a silhouette than an actual person.

At the very least, the surprise of his attack was enough to knock the figure off balance and trip on some debris below.

Beast Boy landed nearby, skidding onto the asphalt. Back on two legs, he whipped around and morphed once more. A rhino was always a solid play when you didn’t quite know what you were dealing with. He kicked up the rubble under his front foot and ducked his head, preparing for a running start. Then he let his momentum carry him forward--feeling the power of an entire stampede in his muscles--which turned out to be much more than he bargained for.

It was like the wall came out of nowhere. Or maybe he just hadn’t looked before leaping. Though his horn mdulled the impact slightly, Beast Boy felt every shard of cement as the crash sent a shocking ripple through his entire body. When he opened his eyes, he was back to his usual self again. But unlike a moment ago, his head was spinning, and he was on his back watching the dark clouds rolling above. His vision had doubled, even tripled, and he shook his head wearily in an attempt to focus on anything at all. Instead, he saw the shaking image of someone approaching him. And his gut told him it wasn’t one of the people they were after. It was something much worse.

“What the fuck was that?” Raven said, leaning over him with a disapproving pout on her face.

“Rhino,” was all Beast Boy could manage, his head still spinning.

Raven scowled, but extended a hand out to him regardless. When she yanked him to his feet in one swift motion, the gesture suddenly felt less sympathetic.

“We’re supposed to be working together , moron,” she said, her tone biting. “How the hell are we supposed to do that if you knock yourself out before we even catch up to the bad guys?”

Beast Boy didn’t have an answer for that. So he didn’t give one, which probably didn’t help his case any more.

“God, you’re useless,” Raven said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him behind him. “Come on.”

They continued down the natural path of the alleyway uneventfully. And that was what worried Beast Boy most. If he wasn’t going to die at the hands of their enemies, he was sure he’d die of embarrassment knowing he’d let them get away. Again.

Luckily for him, if Raven had any more thoughts on the matter she kept them to herself.

When they reached what seemed to be the end of the narrow street, Beast Boy was somewhat relieved to find that it wasn’t the dead end he had been expecting. Rather, the space before them now opened dramatically into something resembling a large courtyard. The entire perimeter was lined by walls of surrounding brick buildings--the only other entrances and exits to the pavilion being opposing alleyways much like the one they’d just emerged from.

But the courtyard’s strange location certainly wasn’t the most interesting thing about it.

In the very center, shrouded by a cloud of steam trickling through a nearby grate, two figures turned abruptly to meet their gaze. Even though Beast Boy could hardly make out the eyes looking back at them, he knew their stare was a threat.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Raven said quietly, lingering in the shadows for a moment longer.

The words echoed in Beast Boy’s head, this time in his own voice. Then a wave of panic suddenly passed over him. He wasn’t actually sure he knew the difference between what was considered brave and what Raven would consider stupid. And he didn’t exactly have the time to mull it over.

Raven stood next to him, arms outstretched, as a flurry of flying rubble began to swirl around the two figures like a vicious tornado. Everything pulled toward them like scrap metal to a magnetic core--everything from the pebbles on the ground to full sized wooden beams and crates that littered the edges of the arena.

Beast Boy searched desperately through this mind for something to do--something to be. A mouse? Small enough to go unnoticed, but way too slow to bridge the gap between the opposing sides in such a short time. He thought to the opposite end of the spectrum. A gorilla or a bear could give him a boost of much needed strength if he cut back on speed. But maybe that was too on the nose. Just like the rhino.

He bit his lip nervously, catching Raven in his peripheral again. They were supposed to be working together after all--and she had clearly taken the lead. But he had no idea how she expected him to follow.

And suddenly, it occurred to Beast Boy that that was the secret to the riddle. The one way he could truly and certainly ‘not do something stupid’ was by not doing anything at all.

For a moment, he was almost proud of himself for finally cracking the code. But the false sense of pride evaporated as soon as he realized what it implied. Maybe his only use was...being completely useless? And just like that, he felt his stomach twist in a knot again as a familiar sense of embarrassment washed over him.

“Hellooo?” Raven’s voice rang out suddenly, snapping Beast Boy out of his daze.

He turned to look at her, finding her in the same position, teeth clenched and arms shaking ever so slightly as she held her pose.

“I said not to do anything stupid ,” she snarled. “Not ‘don’t do anything at all’!”

Beast Boy blinked hard, absorbing her words--the hint of need in her voice, however faint. And suddenly, miraculously, his feeling of uncertainty disappeared as quickly as it had come.

In a flash he was a mighty T-Rex, half as tall as the building behind him. Charging forward, he reached down and fished out one of the criminals from the fading cyclone. Grabbing the figure by the arm, he swung them into the adjacent wall with ease, a cloud of dust gathering upon the point of contact. A hit that would probably kill the average person; but Beast Boy knew that right now he was just buying time.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the second figure starting to pull out a small radio, shielding it from the winds as they spoke into the device.

But before they could utter more than a sentence or two, Beast Boy spun around, sweeping them off their feet completely with his enormous tail. The person went flying at a ninety degree angle from the last, and he watched as the body hit the crumbling wall with a ‘definitely unconscious’ crash.

Morphing back, Beast Boy stood tall, admiring his work.

Raven appeared beside him a moment later, surveying the scene.

“Not bad, huh?”

“I warmed them up for you,” Raven said matter-of-factly. But Beast Boy couldn’t stop himself from brandishing another self-satisfied smirk.

Raven automatically went over to the first fallen figure, pushing directly past him as she went. Beast Boy took the hint and headed the opposite direction, preparing to inspect the second wreckage site hound dog style.

Bombarded by a multitude of different scents, he realized that he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for. He hoped he would know it when he came across it. And he did--when something cold and metallic brushed up against his nose.

With an obnoxious sneeze that sent his floppy ears soaring, Beast Boy took a step back from the dust cloud he had created in front of him. He squinted, coming back up on the area after the dust had settled to find a small coin-like silver disc buried in the ground. But it looked incomplete somehow, like it was only one half of a whole, given several small divots on the surface of the disc. And there was something else mixed in with the scent of the cool metal. Something thick and tangy. He followed the scent further until he found its source.

“Uh...Raven?” He hesitated, instinctively pulling back from the spot it had led him to.

Directly at his feet, the second figure lay face down in the rubble. Their clothing made it difficult to tell what kind of injuries they sustained, but there was blood. Lots of blood.

At the top of the neck, just under their hairline, a perfect silver circle was embedded in the skin--a corresponding piece almost identical to the one on the ground a few yards away. Except this one was covered in miniature circuits and drenched in the dark red liquid oozing from underneath it.

Beast Boy quickly turned back to pick up the first piece and compare the two. He was certain they had once made a single whole. But the half he inspected in his hand seemed to be no more than the covering to the blood caked battery beneath. There was some writing on it though--and maybe that could tell him something .

In a moment, Raven was beside him again, abandoning her less interesting finds at the other end of the courtyard.

“What is it?” She asked, leaning over to try and get a better look at the item in Beast Boy’s hand.

“I don’t know,” he replied, squinting at the object as he tried to make out the markings engraved on its surface. “A...R...S…,” he read slowly. “It looks like there’s more but I can’t make it out.”

Raven extended her hand, and Beast Boy automatically dropped it into her palm for a second opinion.

“Whoever these people are, they must have something to do with that break in,” she said, flipping the silver piece over in her hand. “I guess Robin was right.”

Beast Boy looked down at the body again with a frown.

“Okay, but we still don’t have any more of an idea what they’re after.”

Raven didn’t say anything. She just stood over the body, staring at it intently--in a way that suggested more than just superficial intrigue.

Suddenly, the small metal badge embedded in the figure’s skin was enveloped in a purple haze, and Beast Boy watched in horror as it began to peel away from the flesh underneath like a perfect silver scab. Leaving behind a gruesome red ring of skin, it slowly floated up and over into Raven’s open pocket.

Beast Boy swallowed hard at the sight, a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. For a split second, he was worried he was about to revisit breakfast in the worst way.

“Dude...what the fuck ?” he said, eyes darting between the site of the impromptu surgery and Raven’s slightly blood stained pocket. “That’s nasty.”

Raven didn’t even blink. “Yeah, well so are you and Robin still keeps you around so...”

Beast Boy took a step back from the scene, the scent still of blood still lingering a little too strongly for his liking. And after watching Raven pull off something like that without so much as a moan or a grunt from the disc’s owner, he wasn’t so certain the victims were just napping anymore. He tried not to think too much about the potential fate of the person at his feet. He hated the possibility of pushing that boundary--even if they were ‘the bad guys’.

“You know, that actually wasn’t too bad,” Beast Boy said suddenly. His laugh was stifled and unconvincing, but he knew Raven wouldn’t likely acknowledge his discomfort, which was a bit of a relief in its own right. Regardless, he turned on his heel and made a purposeful decision to start walking away from the scene in hopes that she would naturally follow. Luckily, she did.

“The fight? Or having to be alone with you for more than five minutes?” She said, overtaking him by a step or two. “Because if you’re referring to the latter I’m gonna have to disagree.”

“I mean, but it works. We work. Sometimes,” Beast Boy said, though he was unsure why he was still talking. “It’s like...you know,” he droned on as they walked. “Like oil and vinegar.”

Raven noticeably began to slow her pace. “Like what ?”

“Oil and vinegar. You know. It’s like our flavor ,” Beast Boy said, making some attempt to clarify with a hand gesture.

It was here Raven stopped completely, turning to face him.

“ This ,” she said gesturing between them in return, “is not a flavor .”

Beast Boy shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well I still think it’s a good metaphor.”

“Why? Raven replied, mimicking his pose. “Because we can’t stand being together and naturally repel each other?”

“Buuuuut,” Beast Boy added pointedly, “sometimes when you put us together you get an affordable and delicious salad dressing.”

Raven paused. She closed her eyes, raising her hand to her temple in a deep, meditative stillness before opening her mouth to speak. “You know, sometimes I really wonder how I haven’t killed you by now. Even accidentally.”

Beast Boy frowned. “Just to be clear, you’re the vinegar in this situation.”

The two began to walk again, but Beast Boy only made it a few steps before Raven thrust a hand out in front of him, stopping him mid-stride. And this time it didn’t seem to be because of anything he’d said.

“What?” he blurted out stupidly. At least this time Raven would be able to understand him.

Raven was completely still for a moment longer, her eyes slowly scanning the area around them. “You didn’t hear that?” she said quietly.

“Hear what?” Beast Boy said, again the words feeling stupid and redundant the moment he uttered them.

“Something other than the sound of your own voice,” Raven said under her breath.

Beast Boy looked all around them, just as Raven had. But he didn’t see anything. Let alone hear anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re just being paranoid,” he said, lightly pushing her arm back down to her side. “There were only two of them. You saw on Robin’s map.”

Raven didn’t seem too comforted by the reminder.

Beast Boy moved slightly to meet her gaze, which was focused somewhere far off in the distance. “I’m tellin’ ya. Oil and vinegar.”

Then, with a little more force than he expected, Raven pushed pushed past him and began to walk again.

“Where are you going?” Beast Boy said, somewhat startled.

“Home.”

“Didn’t you wanna sweep the area first?”

“Not if it means twenty more minutes of this,” Raven said, waving her hand dismissively. “Besides, I’m just being ‘paranoid’.”

“Okay, well so much for working together then I guess,” Beast Boy said, rolling his eyes.

Raven shot him a look over her shoulder. Then, in an instant, she froze, eyes growing wide as she opened her mouth to say something.

But Beast Boy beat her to it.

He wasn’t sure the noise he made was completely human, even if the small blade twirling in the dirt just past him hadn’t completely hit its mark. He bit his lip to keep himself from another outburst. It had only grazed the side of his calf, but that was enough to bring him to one knee. He knew that if it had hit him the way it had been intended, he’d be on the ground.

Suddenly, everything around him was engulfed in shadow--and Beast Boy wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about ‘blacking out’. He really hoped that wasn’t what was happening. Not in front of Raven of all people. And not over a glorified paper cut .

A moment later, finding he was still very much conscious, Beast Boy was relieved to find that Raven was the source of the shadowy dome that now surrounded them on all sides. But the relief didn’t last long.

Beyond the opaque screen of darkness, there was a ceaseless blur of motion. Hundreds of tiny silver sparks rebounded off the outer edge, like hail raining down in a terrible storm.

Beast Boy glanced up at Raven from where he knelt on the ground. She was gritting her teeth, brow furrowed and eyes aglow. She didn’t so much as blink when he looked at her, which wasn’t a good sign.

He looked around frantically. Every direction depicted the same terrible scene. Every direction—except for one. It was only now that he noticed how soft the earth was underneath him. How the asphalt of the alleyways seemed to melt away as they worked their way toward the center of the courtyard. And that gave him an idea. An idea Beast Boy didn’t allow himself to think through.

There was something reassuring about being so close to the ground. But the transformation into a badger probably hadn’t been the best for his wound. His leg was starting to ache even more now, and he realized that would probably make digging all the more difficult.

But before he could test his hypothesis, a voice rang out over the crackling of bullets, clear and strong and demanding to be heard.

“Do you have a death wish?,” Raven yelled, her voice cutting above the static.

“What do you think?” Beast Boy said, instantly morphing back. The words came out as sharp as the blades whirling around them.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing gophers are bulletproof ,” Raven said with a laugh dripping with anything but humor.

“ Badgers . It’s a badger .” Beast Boy could feel the adrenaline pulsing in his veins like wildfire--even though he knew the reaction was unwarranted, especially given the more concerning matters at hand.

“Really bad time for an argument, Beast Boy. Really bad time,” Raven bit back.

For a split second, Beast Boy thought of going ahead with his plan anyway. Then it occurred to him that he’d probably already used up what little luck he had for the day.

“Okay, so what’s your bright idea?” he said, struggling to hide the growing annoyance in his voice. But all things considered, he really hoped she had one.

“Not dying. That’s my plan,” she said, shutting her eyes tightly.

Beast Boy looked around nervously--though he wasn’t sure what he was looking for.

“Can’t you just...teleport us out or something?” he said, biting his lip.

“Teleportation or force field. You get one .”

The second Raven spoke though, she was interrupted by a noise that overtook even the hammering of the bullets around them. The short metallic pings were swapped for one firework-like explosion, the ground beneath them trembling just enough to make Beast Boy second guess his balance. From the looks of it, their attackers hadn’t been so lucky.

The bullets raining down on them slowed to a drizzle--then seemed to stop completely after a few stray shots. But not because the remaining gunmen had ceased fire. Rather, the firing now seemed to be directed somewhere else entirely.

Before Beast Boy could figure out where everyone else had turned their attention, his own focus was redirected again as he felt something cold on his wrist. A hand, gripping onto him with what felt like an unnecessary amount of force.

Beast Boy felt the ground sway beneath him again uneasily until it disappeared completely, the hard dirt and asphalt replaced by rough gray concrete. When the scene before him came into a clear focus, his stomach lurched. With a primal desperation, he reached out, searching for the hand that had just let go of him. Now he was the one holding on like his life depended on it.

In front of him now was a perfect aerial snapshot of the pavilion. They had to be at least ten stories up, given the size of the figures below them.

“Um…”

Beast Boy looked up, heart still pounding, though he wasn’t sure the vertigo was responsible for the anxiety he felt now.

Raven was staring at him--or rather their hands intertwined--with a clear level of discomfort. What kind, Beast Boy couldn’t tell.

“You can let go of my hand now,” she said slowly.

Beast Boy flinched, releasing her hand from his own as quickly as he had grabbed it. His knuckles were stiff, flushed by the strain of his grip.

An awkward beat of silence passed between them, broken only when Raven turned to grab something from her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Beast Boy asked, terribly conscious of the slight crack in his voice.

“Calling Robin,” Raven replied, an audible ring echoing from the blood-spotted comms device now resting in her hand.

The two waited for another excruciatingly long moment until the ringing came to an abrupt, unanswered halt.

“I guess he’s busy,” Beast Boy shrugged. But something snagged in his stomach at the thought. Robin probably was very busy. But Beast Boy wasn’t sure he really believed that was why he hadn’t picked up. He took out his own pager anxiously, already flipping through the contacts on the main screen. “Lemme try Cyborg.”

The dial tone cut off after the first ring.

Raven paused for a moment then looked up at him. “I don’t even have a signal.”

Beast Boy looked down at the device in his own hand. Neither did he. “Huh. Well that’s...weird.”

“Yeah,” Raven said, a definitive frown forming on her lips. “And that’s not the only thing that’s a little weird.”

As she spoke, Raven stared down at the pavilion below them, unblinking. She seemed intently focused on...something. But Beast Boy wasn’t entirely sure that it was the fight happening on the ground. A fight that was becoming increasingly hard to follow, even for someone who was trying to keep up with it.

Beast Boy scanned the turf once, then again through the eyes of a hawk, hoping for a better view. Squinting beyond the cloud of dust, he finally was able to hone in on the action--and more importantly, their attackers’ new target.

The man stood out like a current rolling on a still sea. Rather than trying to dodge the attacks of his pursuers, he danced through the waves with an impossible accuracy, almost as if he were intentionally trying to attract their shots. And he did--like hungry flies to a show horse. Only he never seemed to get bitten. The flies bit themselves. They bit each other. Falling one after the other around him as they continued to follow him further and further away from the center of the pavilion.

Just before the man disappeared into the shadows of the opposite alleyway, Beast Boy finally caught a glimpse of his face amongst the swarming insects--his shiny black hair and toothless grin glistening in the artificial night.

#bbrae #bbrae fanfiction #beast boy teen titans #raven teen titans #dc #i still don't know how to properly use tags lol

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ri-ahhh · 4 years

Text

cake for dessert

Grayson wants a slice of MJ for dessert on a rainy day

4.8k

warnings: badly written smut

A/N: one of the MJ things I promised to upload. It’s storming like crazy here and this is all I want in life rn so I figured this was the one to post.

***

A chilly spring rain has descended over LA out of nowhere, as MJ discovers with surprise when she and her best friend Lainey step out of their final store at The Grove. That Saturday had started off warm and sunny, a perfect weekend day to spend out and about, but the storm rolling in is suddenly derailing her and Lainey’s plans for a chill afternoon at the beach.

“Well, shit,” Lainey remarks, glancing up at the dark clouds looming in the not-so-distant skyline.

“Right?” MJ concurs. She scrunches her nose and watches Lainey pout as they consider what else they might do with their Saturday. With MJ still busy working hard at her new job and, admittedly, being wrapped up in the fading newness of Grayson, she and Lainey haven't had much time to spend together. Especially considering her friend’s own relationship and hectic schedule.

A fat raindrop surprises her by landing on her nose, and both of them giggle as the sudden light sprinkle becomes more steady. They hurry down the walkway to the parking garage until they find MJ’s car, hurrying inside and slamming the doors just in time for the rain to start really coming down.

“Looks like we’re going home, unless you want to fight the LA drivers who have no idea what they're doing in the rain to go to a movie or something,” MJ jokes, selecting her favorite rainy day playlist full of Tame Impala, Bon Iver, Rex Orange County, and the like to serenade them on the way back to her apartment.

Lainey laughs. She’s also from out of state and shares MJ’s anecdotal opinion of the LA natives. “Yeah, as much as I want to stay and cuddle and feed each other takeout, I think for that reason I’m gonna have to head out when we get to your place. It’ll take me an extra hour to get home because of this.”

Now it’s MJ’s turn to playfully but also somewhat seriously jut out her lower lip in an impression of Lainey’s earlier pout. “Who’s gonna dangle pad Thai noodles into my mouth, then?”

“I don’t know, babe. Don’t you have a boyfriend or something now?” Lainey smirks, snatching MJ’s phone from her lap and waving it in her face so her lock screen illuminates, an accidental candid she had captured of said boyfriend with that beautiful smile shining right at her.

“It’s not the same,” whines MJ, entering the rapidly congesting highway. “First of all, he’s busy most of the day. Second, he makes it sexy, whereas you’re just plain cute. I don’t think I’m in the mood to be sexy today.”

That was true, for sure. Her outfit consisted of a pair of black leggings, one of Gray’s t-shirts that hung off her body shapelessly, and a baseball cap to hide the fact that she wore no makeup. Between her stuffy nose from the cold she’s fighting and the lack of sleep from the night before, she couldn’t be bothered that morning to try any harder.

Lainey, who had been listening while checking the visor mirror to see if her mascara had survived the rain, feigns offense. “Wow, bitch, are you saying I’m not sexy?”

“Boo, you’re sooo sexy. Grayson should probably thank you for half of my skills based on your tips over the years, now that I think about it,” MJ grins, causing Lainey to cackle.

Their girl talk continues the rest of the surprisingly short car ride back to MJ’s apartment building. MJ pulls up behind Lainey’s car and hugs her bestie over the console.

“Love you. Text me when you’re home so I know you survived the drive.”

“Will do. Love you, babe.”

MJ makes sure Lainey is in her car before driving into her covered spot. The tiredness had been real before, but the pure exhaustion hit her out of nowhere as her mind processes that she’s now home. She’s suddenly looking forward to nothing more than ordering said takeout, soaking in a too-hot bath, and watching The Hobbit series all afternoon.

She shuts the door to her apartment behind her with a sigh and trudges into her room, tossing her bags on her bed. Desperate to start the second half of her day of relaxation, it takes her all of 30 seconds to strip down and make her way into the bathroom. As the soaking tub fills, she selects a Lush bath bomb and bubble bar from the basket on the counter.

With a last-minute face mask applied, hair piled on top of her head to keep it dry, and New Girl ready to play on her phone, she’s just settling into the water with a light moan when the phone begins buzzing on the ledge of her soaking tub. She dries her hands and smiles when she sees Grayson’s name on the FaceTime call.

“Hi, baby,” she answers once his handsome face fills the screen, scooping some of the foamy bubbles closer to her chest so they fluff out cloud-like from her skin.

Grayson grins and takes a second to admire at her. “Hi, sweetheart. You look so fucking cute.”

MJ rolls her eyes but flushes and smiles appreciatively. “If you say so. How’s filming going?”

He puffs his cheeks and blows out the air slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Good, but it’s been a long day. E and I both decided to call it quits early; we’re both way too strung out on no sleep and anxiety to get much else done, especially now that the weather’s gone to shit.”

“I’m sorry, Bear, I know you both wanted to get everything wrapped tonight,” she laments with him, wishing she could comfort him with a kiss to his plump pink lips. “I’m kind of in the same boat. Lainey and I couldn't go to the beach, and between this cold I have and the fact it’s getting harder and harder to sleep without you, I’m so tired.”

Grayson smiles at her in that way he reserves only for her — soft, crooked, his hazel eyes sparkling in the center and crinkling just the tiniest bit at the corners — especially at the sound of her little pet name for him.

“Can I come over? I’ve been thinking about you all day, but I didn't want to cut into your time with Lainey. I just need to be with you.”

“Yes please,” MJ agrees with a sniffle. “As long as you’re the big spoon while we have a couch day. That’s about all I’m gonna be good for today, I think.”

“Of course,” he grins, getting into his car. “Are you gonna be my little cuddle bug all afternoon, Peach?”

She hears an exasperated ‘oh my God’ in the background and can practically see Ethan’s eye-roll out of frame.

“Yeah,” she coos back to her boyfriend, then, “hi, E.”

“Hi, MJ,” he grunts. As she’s naked underneath the clouds of bubbles, Grayson doesn’t angle the phone towards his brother, but she can still hear his voice. “You know, he’s already a cornball most of the time, but you really bring it out of him in droves, dude.”

Grayson doesn’t even react to Ethan, his gaze fixated instead on MJ through the phone. “Good. I sleep better with you in my arms, too.”

“Ugh,” Ethan complains. “Where are my fucking AirPods?”

She does, indeed, hear rustling, presumably from the older twin, but she chooses to ignore him as well. “Can you pick up Thai or Veggie Grill or something on your way over?”

“Oooh, yeah, either of those sound awesome. I’m starving,” Grayson agrees. “I’ll have to drop E off at home first and hopefully traffic wont be too bad both ways. Be there in an hour?”

“Sounds good. Thank you, baby,” she says quietly with a sweet, content smile.

He winks at her, and his voice drops a couple of notches. “No problem, Peach. As long as you’re my dessert.”

Her body rushes with heat, and not from the temperature of the water she’s soaking in. Before she can answer, Ethan groans louder than ever.

“Oh my God, dude, I fucking heard that! Can you keep your cheesy sex talk at zero while we’re literally right next to each other?” His voice suddenly picks up even louder so she can hear him. “MJ, I can’t believe you still let him fuck you when he says shit like that.”

“He makes up for it with the other things his mouth can do,” she retorts, winking at Grayson. Her giggles join Grayson’s howls of laughter and taunts at his brother, who apparently is very much done with the conversation. “Alright, I love you both. Drive safe, please.”

True to his word, Grayson shows up a little over an hour later with a bag of Veggie Grill in one hand and a Starbucks medicine ball in the other. MJ absolutely despises hot tea, and he knows it, but he also knows she won’t be able to resist the soothing warmth of it — especially considering he took the time and effort to get it for her.

He smiles at the sight of her cocooned in the plush, cozy fabric of her favorite blanket and leans down to give her a quick kiss. He hands her the drink, which she does indeed accept with warm eyes and a soft heart. She takes a sip and lets the hot liquid coat her scratchy throat as he plops down next to her with a sigh and sets the food on her coffee table. Grayson cups her cheeks to draw her in for another kiss — lingering, closed-mouthed pecks this time.

“Hi,” he says, smiling and dropping one to her red-tipped nose for good measure.

“Hi,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from mouth-breathing more and more throughout the afternoon. “Sorry I look so gross. This cold is kicking my ass the later it gets. You’re probably going to catch it.”

“First of all: worth it. Second: are you kidding? This is my favorite MJ,” he assures, peppering little kisses all across her forehead as he draws her in to his chest. Her hair is in the same messy bun from her bath, her glasses are on, and she’s dressed in her old college crewneck sweatshirt, boy-short Calvins, and fuzzy socks… “No one gets to see you like this except me. All fresh-faced and beautiful and undone. All mine.”

“Mmm,” MJ hums, snuggling into him and sniffling. “We’ll see how you feel when I’m snoring like a 300 pound grandpa in a little bit because I can’t breathe out of my nose.”

“Okay, but I don’t see how that’ll be different from any other night.” She draws back and smacks him on the arm playfully, scoffing incredulously. He just barks out a laugh and kisses the frown off her lips before distributing their late lunch between them.

They make comfortable small talk while The Office plays quietly in the background, mixing with the patter of rain on the large windows. A fuzzy warm ball settles in the pit of her stomach that has her feeling almost heady at the simple intimacy of the moment.

MJ finishes first. She takes off her glasses and places them on the coffee table next to her tea so she can curl into a ball and nuzzle into Gray’s shoulder. He kisses the top of her head affectionately and finishes his meal in silence while they watch the antics of Michael Scott and gang for the millionth time. Eventually his empty plate joins hers and he opens his burly arms to gather her in his embrace, lying down and bringing her with him.

Grayson chuckles when she fully climbs on top of him so she’s straddling his hips and hugging him with all of her limbs like a koala would a tree, her nose buried into the five o’clock shadow on his neck. He makes sweeping passes up and down her back. “Needy today, sweetheart?”

“A little,” MJ mumbles, eyelids already feeling heavy, even more so when he fixes the oversized blanket around the both of them. He smells so good, feels so solid and warm, his breath tickling her ear soothingly. They FaceTime every day, but their crazy lives have made it where this is the first time in days that they’ve seen each other in person. “Missed you. We both work too much.”

He lets out a little hum of agreement, sighing when he feels her lips pucker to dot baby kisses on his bronze skin. His hands stroke up and down her back comfortingly. “I missed you, too. E and I should have just one more day of shooting before we’ll be home more to work on editing and stuff with the team.”

“I’ll be in Seattle most of next week for a new client recruit,” she reminds, recognizing the inexplicit invitation. “Otherwise I’d come over and work remote with you.”

“Ugh, that’s right,” Gray laments, sighing. “Kiss me. Please?”

MJ gives him a lazy smile when she feels his fingers tilt her chin up. Their makeout is slow and simple and just what the both need, reconnecting after days and lives apart.

A few minutes go by until MJ groans a little and sits up in his lap with a sigh, a string of saliva connecting their lips before breaking with a snap.

“I can’t breathe laying down like that. Or just out of my nose,” she pouts. One of her hands plays with his hair while the other smooths down his t-shirt over his chest where she had rumpled it by laying on him.

Grayson grips her hips and follows her up, hugging her tightly around the middle with those huge, burly arms. “Since you can’t sleep anyways…” he looks at her, and she cocks an eyebrow, her lips quirking questioningly. “Can I have my dessert now? You can sit up on the couch. And no mouth-to-mouth required.”

MJ chuckles and wraps her arms around his broad shoulders, biting her lip as she considers his request. As much as she wants Grayson in any capacity most of the time, today is one of those days where sex just isn't on the table for her.

That being said, can she really resist that tongue? Those lips?

Before she can answer, he continues. “I know you don’t feel good, so I’ll understand if you just aren't up for anything today. But I’m not expecting you to reciprocate at all. I’ve just been wanting… like, basically needing to eat your pussy all week. It’s all I’ve been able to think about for so days.” He traces her jawline with his nose until his lips reach that little spot right behind the hinge and just below her ear, where he licks and nibbles until her hips start shifting in his lap of their own accord. “Please?”

Well, how the fuck is she going to say no to that?

She can’t, and knows he can sense her giving in when he starts to turn them around so she’s reclined against the back of the couch. Grayson grins while he arranges the blankets and pillows around her to get her as comfy as possible.

She watches him fuss over her with loving eyes, but wants to make sure he really is okay with the arrangement, too. “Are you sure? I don’t want to blue ball you. And I can speak from experience that that rug isn't a fun place to be on your knees for an extended period of time.”

Gray smirks at her and plants one more kiss to her lips before sinking down her body, snatching a couple of stray pillows to cushion his knees. “One problem solved. And don't worry about any chance of blue balls; it’s been way too fucking long since I’ve done this, and I’ll be lucky if I don't cum in my pants before I even get you to your first one.”

“Oh, so I’m in for more than one orgasm today?” MJ smiles back down at him and lifts her hips so he can drag her panties down her toned legs, placing her feet on the edge of the couch so she’s nice and open for him once he had the fabric tossed behind him somewhere. “I’d say that was big talk if I didn't know you could back it up.”

She knows he likes a challenge, and combined with his love for being praised and her bare pussy exposed to him at long last, she feels like she’s got a little bit of an upper hand here.

“Always,” he murmurs.

His lips start at the inside of her knee, working their way up to her inner thigh, across her mound to nuzzle in the little patch of hair she hadn't bothered to trim down between waxes, before trekking down the opposite leg. MJ knows his goal is to build up the anticipation for them both, and he’s succeeding; she can hear his breathing intensify as he tries to take in her scent, and she can feel the wetness beginning to leak out of her without so much as a lick from him.

Finally, he brings his hand up to trace her smooth lower lips, glancing up at her with warm yet lustful eyes as he takes in how his teasing is affecting her. MJ gives it right back, sneaking a hand under her oversized sweatshirt to play with her breast. It drives him absolutely crazy seeing her touch herself, but also not being able to see. If she didn't know any better, she would say sometimes he was more obsessed with her boobs than her actual vagina when they get down.

When his eyes turn dark, she grins and uses her free hand to rake through his hair and pull him towards her pussy while simultaneously pinching her nipple just the way she likes. Grayson growls and turns his attention back where she’s directing him, finally parting her with his middle and index fingers to expose her clit. He places a quick kiss directly to it, causing MJ to gasp and grip his dark locks tighter.

He gives it a more sensual smooch and pulls back to watch more of her juices trickle out of her until he can’t resist really getting to work anymore. His moan vibrates against her when his tongue swipes through the sweet wetness, trailing it to her clit with his mouth and giving the nub a gentle suckle before slipping his tongue back to her entrance. MJ lets out little whimpers of bliss as he makes out with her pussy, his tongue reaching as far inside her as it can, wiggling around and slurping down everything that comes out of her.

She lets him eat her out with no real purpose, thoroughly enjoying the constant stimulus of his lips and teeth and tongue without a driving need to make her cum behind it. Her hands flit between stroking his hair comfortingly, to playing with her breasts, to digging her nails across his clothed shoulders.

“Feels so good,” MJ whispers while she watches him work. Her fingers are combing gently through his hair once again to push the dark strands off of his forehead just in time to see his eyes flit open to meet her own.

“Tastes so good,” Grayson growls back, taking a moment to sit on his haunches and get a thorough look at her spread out for him. Her pussy is swollen and wet, the insides of her thighs bare the faint markings of his teeth, and her face is pure bliss even as she sniffs and coughs a bit. “You okay?”

MJ nods. It’s sweet of him to check, but all she wants now is his face back in her pussy. She bites her lip and one of her heels, still clad in a fuzzy sock, digs into the middle of his broad back to push him in. Grayson smirks darkly and follows her lead, his lips immediately suctioning around her plump little clit.

“Fuck…” MJ moans. Her voice is raspier than usual and, like everything else about her today, goes straight to his dick, which throbs untouched in his grey sweats.

He starts working her over with purpose now, determined to get her to cum in the next 30 seconds. He knows he can do it even if she hadn't started chanting, “like that, like that, don’t fucking stop…”

Her moans reach peak levels, as loud as she can be with her sore throat, and her clit throbs on his tongue. Her back arches off the couch and her hands dive fully in his thick hair now to hold him to her, her heel still pressing against his spine doing the same.

Grayson groans and has to remove one of his hands from her hips to reach into his boxers and squeeze his dick hard enough to stave off his own orgasm. He slips two fingers of his other hand in her dripping pussy to give her something to clench around, which doesn’t help his attempt at not cumming literally in his pants when he feels her walls gripping his digits like a vice.

“Baby…” she whines as he brings her down with little kitten licks on her pulsing clit, her thighs quivering around his head. Grayson hums and nuzzles into that delicate skin until the muscles beneath stop trembling, and the flutters around his middle and ring fingers have ceased. He never takes his eyes off her face — eyes closed, mouth agape, cheeks flushed. Beautiful and dismantled because of him.

Once he feels she (and, frankly, he himself) have calmed just enough to be able to take more, he starts to press and curl the fingers inside her. MJ whines softly as the build picks up again, which turns into shrieking when he wraps his swollen lips around her clit again and sucks the nub sharply into his mouth. Between the sloppy wetness of his mouth and the way he applies pressure just right on her g-spot, it takes all of a minute for her to fall apart again. She marvels, not for the first time, at how fucking good he is at this, how well he knows her body.

‘Always’ is right.

Grayson sits back, removes his hand and mouth from her and growls at the sight before him while he pushes against the backs of her thighs. So much for sitting up, as she’s now practically on her back, but neither of them are complaining or stopping to readjust. She’s perfectly exposed for him, her juices and his saliva coating her skin and dripping down her ass, she’s that wet.

“MJ…”

Her name escaping his lips in that husky voice finally gets her to lazily blink her eyes open until her gaze focuses on him as clearly as she can. He looks sexy as fuck on his knees for her, pupils dilated and the stubbled skin of his chin and jaw covered in shiny wetness.

Grayson’s big hands knead the insides of her thighs until he’s confident he has her full attention. He smoothes his palms to the crooks of her knees, moving her gently until she’s practically folded in half, and without breaking eye contact shifts his head that much further down so he can go to town on her even lower.

MJ gasps and shoots one of her hands to his hair, her first instinct being to push him away, until half a second passes and she’s doing the exact opposite. No one has ever done this for her before, and now she’s wondering how she had gone so long without the sensation of his tongue swiping up her cum from that virtually untouched hole.

If she was in any right state, she would have seen Grayson’s smug, quite literally ass eating smirk at her reaction to his ministrations. He isn’t sure why in their nearly eight months together he had never eaten her ass before; it isn’t the first time he’s done it to a girl. Maybe because he treasures sex with MJ more than anyone in his life before, maybe knowing in his heart that they have a long future of making love ahead of them had caused him to wait. What he does know, is that he’ll never be able to resist doing it again when the desire to rises, especially given her voracious response to it.

“Fuck!” MJ wails when he spreads her even more open with his hand so he can have better access, his tongue rimming and prodding her asshole to perfection while the thumb of his free hand presses upward on the hood of her clit. He knows her so well, can sense she’s too sensitive for direct stimulation there, but the pressure right above the bundle of nerves is exactly what she’s craving without her even realizing it.

But he does, and it feels so good — too good; Grayson’s eyes drop closed as he lets her taste and sounds overcome his senses, and it’s like her pleasure is his as his hand finally begins to jerk himself off. He builds up the speed of his strokes with her increased pace of breath, until she cums for a third time, and his tongue is quickly swiping all the way up her crease, from asshole to clit as he stands to his feet. He leans over her with one hand on the back of the couch and licks the last of her off his lips as he takes in her body to fuel him even more, even as clothed as she still is.

MJ starts to come-to enough to realize what he needs, and lifts her shirt to expose more skin to him. She drinks in the sight of her gorgeous boyfriend towering over her with his sweats and boxer briefs pushed down just enough for his equally beautiful dick to be out while he strokes the head aggressively. He’s about to explode and she knows it, just as attuned to his body’s tells as he is with hers.

His face is hovering just above hers, and she watches his mouth drop and his eyes train on her exposed skin. MJ bites her lip and whines, pulling roughly on her nipples while her eyes flit between his face and his cock. “Cum on my pussy, baby, I want it — want your cum all over me, make it your pussy…”

She’s rambling, but it’s all he needed as a deep, relieved groan escapes him, followed by soft grunts as he shoots all over her, exactly where she told him to and then some. MJ moans quietly and knocks his hand out of the way to finish him off herself, squeezing the last drops of the pearly white from him. The fingers of her other hand collect what she can from her skin to keep it from dripping on the couch, spreading it instead over her swollen lower lips.

His chest still heaves when she looks up at him with a tired smile, which he matches with a laugh when her final stroke makes him flinch. He pushes her hand off his cock and tells her, “Don’t move.”

She obeys, and watches him lean over to grab his phone off the side table, unlocking it and swiping up. “Is this okay?” he asks, motioning with his head. “This is too fucking sexy. Need a memento while you’re out of town.”

MJ giggles and nods, spreading her legs a little more as he goes to town. She does her best to coat her pussy in his cum, her long, glittering manicured nails adding a certain aesthetic to the shots. She even scoops some up and let him capture her sucking it off her middle finger.

Grayson smiles tiredly and kisses her sweetly, the gentleness and simplicity of it a little stark after the pure filth of the last twenty minutes. He tucks himself back in his pants and goes into her bathroom to get a wet rag to clean her up with, chucking it in the washer when he’s done. On his way back over to her, he picks up her long-forgotten panties off the middle of the living room floor with a smirk and hands them to her, plopping next to her and dragging her into his lap once they’re back on her body.

“I’m gonna have to insist on you having dessert every day,” she yawns into his chest with a sniffle. “I didn't know you liked cake so much.”

Grayson laughs and squeezes her tight to him, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead as he confirms to Netflix that, yes, they are indeed still watching. “And Ethan says I’m the cornball.”

“If he only knew.”

#idk if i like this or not #but it is what it is #hope its okay #dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #smut #grayson mj

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wifeofkimtaehyungofbts · 3 years

Text

Chapter 11

>> Pairing: Taehyung x Y/N, Taehyung x reader

>> Words: 2,379

>> Notes: I’m going to upload a new chapter whenever possible. Please bear with my hectic schedule! You may leave asks and let me know what you think of my writing (:

Synopsis: You run into a rather strange man one night. He seems terrified, as if fighting battles only he can see. He seems detached from the world, talking only to a voice inside his head. Oh, another strange fact: he keeps talking about angels. You discover later that you were the angel he was praying to.

>> Previous / Next

“Hey"

I jolted at the sudden voice echoing against the walls of the eerily quiet changing room of the McDonald’s.

Jungkook was leaning against the door. His apron was thrown over his shoulder and he cocked his head at me.

“Wanna go out tonight?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t quite sure I heard him right. Jeon Jungkook. The guy that hardly ever talks to anyone. The handsome guy who shies away from girls at the cashier trying to get his number. The guy who leaves work without sparing a second for an after-work chat with his colleagues. Wants to go out with me?

I continued to stare at him in shock. Instead of breaking the awkward silence between us, he stared back at me. His dark chocolate brown eyes looked deep. Not in the romantic sense. It almost seemed like there was an entirely different person behind them. If the person differed from the one who stood before me in a good way or a bad way, I couldn’t tell. But what I could tell was that if I didn’t reply fast, we'd be staring into each other for all of eternity.

“Don’t you have work?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You are supposed to fill me in tonight because Felix had an emergency at his house and couldn’t make it”

“I got someone else to cover for me" he shrugged.

I wanted to know more but I figured it didn’t really matter as long as my shift was covered and he didn’t get into trouble either.

“Gimme a minute. I need to wash my face” I said turning my back on him.

As I busied myself removing my hair tie and gathering my hair in a bun, I felt someone lightly brush against my back. I wanted to turn but it felt too cold.

“You look beautiful Y/N" Jungkook whispers, his warm breath blowing the hair at the top of my head.

In reflexive panic, I grabbed my bag pack and dashed to the girl’s bathroom. I couldn’t calm my racing heart as I tried to shake off the eerie coldness I felt a few seconds ago.

Why did Jungkook come onto me so suddenly? And what’s with the compliment? I mean sure, thank you but it felt so off. He didn’t sound sweet or shy when he said it. He sounded stern, like he was stating a matter of fact I better believe else.... else?

Else what, Y/N? He was going to kill you??

I slapped myself for overthinking and washed my face before hurrying to the front. My colleagues were busy with customers so I couldn’t wave them goodbye. I stepped outside to the chilly air, spotting Jungkook standing by the road. I walked up to him and smiled warmly.

He looked down at me and smiled back. “Do you like pizza?”

“Who doesn’t!” I giggled, already drooling at the mere idea of pizza.

He laughed as we started walking towards the Arthur’s Pizzeria around the corner.

We were seated by the window across from each other. The table was too big for just us two, but we were glad no one else attempted to sit with us. It was fine, just the two of us.

We ordered our pizzas and spoke about ourselves as we waited for the food.

I found out Jungkook is from Busan and he was studying music at the campus. He was in fact a top graduate from Busan Arts School along with some guy whose name Jungkook doesn’t remember. He likes to play video games and tries new activities every weekend. Last week he had attempted fishing with a friend of his and they ended up catching no fish but a cold so bad, Jungkook requested for an extension on his vocal exam. Oh, and he hates reading.

I told him about the time I submitted the wrong thesis paper for my semester end assignment and had to retake the whole module all over again in the next semester. He asked my favourite colour, movie and book. He judged me for being a book worm and laughed when I pouted at him in annoyance.

Our food arrived soon and we didn’t talk as we devoured the delicious, thin, saucy pizza. I caught him watching me from the corner of my eye but I made no attempt to eat decently. It’s not like I want to impress him or anything anyways.

Three girls seated at the table next to us wooow’ed at the sight of Jungkook. They turned their attention to me and stared on with disgust.

“What’s someone like him doing with someone like her?”

“God knows! See this is why we never get to experience anything good. Because the good guys are always after someone so random”

“It must be true love if he actually chose someone like her. I mean, look at her hair!”

I could even hear their eye rolls as loud as I heard their words. It pricked and I found myself slowing my eating. I suddenly couldn’t chew anymore. I felt restrained. Like someone had put handcuffs and a leash on me and I had to strain against them to take a bite of my pizza.

Growing up, I haven’t had the most stable family. My fatherless life had involved trying to work odd jobs since I was 13 and missing out mile stones other girls got to experience during their teen years. My first kiss wasn’t under a starry night with my first love, it was rushed and filled with greed at the car park of the local book store. And he cheated on me a week later with the girl who sat next to me at chemistry. The man I first shared a bed with was not looking for a long-term relationship and left me when he found a full time, high wage job at his uncle’s company in New York. My mother was crippling, losing a bit of herself every passing day until one day she came down the stairs to have her tea and I couldn’t even recognize her anymore. My sisters were still too young to understand life and I didn’t want them to see the world as I saw it. I wanted them to have a happy childhood and experience life as any growing child should. They were sent away to my uncle’s and although they were more than willing to also let me stay, I needed away. I left my mother as she screamed indecent words at me one night and took the subway train that led me here. The letter of acceptance from the university was the only good thing that has ever happened to me. I soon became best friends with my room mate who is the polar opposite of me but somehow, we spoke to the same stars and saw life in the same light. My life has always been rushed, difficult to comprehend and there was no easy way through. Having to hear the body that pulled me through those sleepless nights of putting my scared sisters to sleep and locking their doors so my alcoholic mother couldn’t hurt them with her drunk violence, the same body that has cried itself to sleep after carrying stack after stack of recycle paper up 7 flight of stairs for very little pay and a terrible neck and back ache, the same body that is still living and breathing and pushing through, is not good enough, is less, is devastating. It makes me want to cry.

I didn’t ask for such a difficult life. Additionally, my face is the only remainder of who my mom used to be; I am the spitting image of her. The her that was over flowing with positivity and had a heart of gold. The her that lovingly brought my sisters and I into this world and took us cycling and cooked our favourite pasta for our birthdays. To think this face, this remainder of what she looked like, who she was, is less makes my heart crinkle around the edges and burn in the deepest pits of its centre.

“All good?”

I look up to see Jungkook looking at me worriedly.

“Oh yes! I just.... should stop eating else I’ll throw up" I laughed awkwardly.

Jungkook continued to munch on his pizza as he stared at me. He was trying to read the worry in my eyes, the sad drop of the corners of my lips. I couldn’t hide my emotions on my face even if the world depended on it, so I wouldn’t be surprised if any minute now Jungkook presses me for answers and stories. Stories I’d rather keep hidden like I have all this time.

“Okay" Jungkook hums as he takes another slice of pizza. I look at him, grateful he dropped the subject. I watched on as he ate. He didn’t once lift his eyes to mine. He busied himself finishing up his own pizza and the remainder of mine. I wasn’t shocked he ate so much given the fact that he was full of muscle and stamina.

I looked out the window at the busy street. People walked by, carrying the weight of their lives on their shoulders. The lights from cars and street lights looked like stars on Earth from where I was seated. I felt a sudden sense of closure knowing I could disappear into the night, walk mindlessly around these people and no one would know who I am. I’d have no one to explain or compare myself to. Nobody would know what’s going on inside my head. Frankly, nobody would care enough to know. And it felt nice. To not be alive and surviving. I wanted to be light, float over the Earth and find my purpose at my own pace without trying to catch up with the rest of the world only to fall short of breath and lost.

“I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, but I’ll listen if you share” Jungkook wipes the corner of his mouth with a tissue. He has cleaned the trays of pizza without leaving behind even a trace of any food being there. I smiled kindly at his words.

“Thank you Jungkook. But I’m not thinking about anything that needs concerning attention”

My smile doesn’t reach my eyes and I know he noticed it. He pays the bill entirely despite me fussing about wanting to split the bill. We make our way back to my house, the breeze a little colder and stronger than yesterday, reminding us of the oncoming winter.

I pace the living room painfully slow, waiting.

Waiting for her to come back home.

Daffodil.

I have been practising what I wanted to say as I give her the present over and over again in my head. I had wrapped it neatly in a brown paper bag and tied with an orange ribbon I found on her study table. The wrapping was not at all attractive, but it was neat and I hoped she would see the value of the gift that’s wrapped rather than the wrapping itself.

I look at the time. 09.19pm.

She was supposed to be back a long time ago. I heard her making arrangements yesterday to leave early from work today. I had cleaned the entire house; sweeping the wooden floor boards, removing cobwebs and brushing off the dust that had collected on top of the cupboards and TV.

I did not have a phone on me and even if I did, its not like I had her number anyway. I sighed loudly and slumped on the cold floor. My eyes kept fluttering, threatening to close for hours. My shoulders felt heavy and I couldn’t pull myself up off the floor. I rested my head on the floor and allowed my eyes to close. The coldness from the floor piercing my right cheek was the last thing I was aware of before I drifted off to a sleep full of nightmares.

I saw it again.

The playground.

The swing.

The boy.

I was playing in the park around the corner from school. I had sand in my old, torn shoes and my school tie was hanging loosely around my neck. My hair was a mess and sweat dripped off the ends of my bangs. I was having too much fun running around to stop. I sat at one of the swings and turned to face the boy seated in the other.

“Hey!” I waved brightly.

He did not respond, his head bent low and slowly swinging. He had dark brown hair and a piercing in his left ear. I could not see his face because it was surprisingly too dark on the side of the swing he was on. It was almost as if a dark cloud was looming over him, night fallen on the side of the Earth he was on.

I turned away and focused on swinging as high up as I can. However, my merry only lasted for a short while because I had swung a little too high and as I swung back, I was thrown off the seat and face first onto the dirty sand. I got up spitting sand out of my mouth. Any average person would have shrieked in disgust and run straight home for a good shower at what just happened. But I just laughed, almost choking on my spit as I attempted to spit sand out of my mouth.

“Pathetic”

The boy suddenly spoke. His voice was soft, melodic and had a boyish charm to it.

He’d make a great singer if he could sing, I thought to myself.

I turned to look at him, mirth sparkling in my eyes.

“Ha! So you can speak! I thought-” I began but had to stop at the sight before me.

My eyes grew wide in terror as the boy lifted his head to reveal a face with no features except for a gaping hole where his mouth should be. A dark liquid oozed out of his ears, supposed-mouth and where his eyes should’ve been.

My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream again and again, but no sounds came out.

Tag list: @tae-n-u

#bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fan fic #bts fan fiction #kim taehyung #kim taheyung x reader #BTS v #bts v x reader #bts taehyung #bts tae x reader #park jimin #BTS jimin #BTS jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #taehyung x y/n #tae x y/n #bts v x y/n #Angels

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daddystevee · 4 years

Text

Worlds Collide - part 1

(steve harrington x fem!reader)

A/N: Okay, i think this is gonna be good, but at the same time im not sure. Its a good concept but im just not good at putting my thoughts onto paper. So please forgive me if this part sucks. I wanted to try writing another multi part fic, but this one might be shorter, but who knows anyways.. Enjoyyyy <3

Warnings: none yet

Summary: Modern day au where Steve and reader meet on a dating website, but things don’t exactly go according to plan.

Word count: 1.2k

part 1/?

masterlist

You tried to convince yourself that this would be good for you. Everyone needed someone, no one could take on a world as crazy as ours alone. So when your best friend and roommate told you that you should try to get out there and to sign up for this online dating website, you didn’t fight her on it.

“Alright, that should be fine.” your roommate Cami said to you, adding the finishing touches to your makeup.

“I feel like this is.. just too much.” you say getting up from the chair moving over to the vanity in her room, getting a good look at your ‘new’ face. You don’t think you had ever worn this much makeup in your life, not even for school dances.

After staring at your face for a little bit longer, you feel two hands being placed onto your shoulders, “Y/N, you look amazing.” she says turning you around to face her. “Okay, now we have to go out on the balcony to take some bomb ass selfies.”

On the other side of town, you would find Steve Harrington surrounded by 6 teens. All huddled around a small computer, each person shouting out different things.

“You should put on there that you LOVE kids. Girls love that.”

“No, I would for sure put something about puppies.”

“Oh, yeah. Puppies.”

“No, no, no. Steve don’t listen to them, add some cheesy pickup lines. Those always work.”

And so on and so on. After so long, he could only take so much,

“Alright! That’s enough.” he says a little louder than anticipated, “I’ll put down what I think would sound good.” With that, the kids go silent but continue to watch over the older boys shoulders.

Once Steve has everything he thinks would attract girls, along with a few of the things the kids mentioned, he reluctantly agrees to let the girls help pick out some of the pictures from his phone to put on his profile. Not even 5 minutes later they have several photos uploaded to his computer and onto his page.

Some of him and the kids on Halloween in their matching costumes, showing off that he does in fact love his kids. A few of him out at bars, to prove that he is a social and outgoing person. And even one with him holding a puppy from the time the kids convinced him to go look at dogs at a kennel, because puppies are cute.

After a few days of swiping through the app, you seem to be having shit luck. The guys who have super liked you, aren’t exactly your type, and they guys you’ve had even the slightest interest in never seem to swipe on you.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore Cam, it’s honestly so boring and I’m not getting any matches-” you start to say before she rips your phone out of your hand before plopping down next to you on the couch.

“That’s because you’re not doing it right. Just because you and someone match, doesn’t mean you have to reach back out to them.” she then proceeds to start swiping on almost every single guy. As she’s doing so, you do seem to be getting more and more matches, then right as she’s about to swipe left on someone you stop her.

“Wait, he’s really cute.” you say, emphasis on the ‘really’, while peering over your friends shoulder, “Steve Harrington huh? Has kind of a ring to it don’t ya think?”

She hands the phone over to you and allows you to do the honors. Upon swiping right, it’s an immediate match. You gasp and turn to Cami, with a look of complete shock on your face. You hear a ding, then a little notification comes up on the screen saying,

what are ya waiting for? make your move!

“What do I say?” you ask still in shock that someone, you thought was cute matched with you. “Oh wait, I got it.”

"Be honest. Is that dog really yours or just for props?"

You giggled to yourself at your question thinking it was hilarious, hoping he would find it funny too. But when the ‘sent’ changed to ‘read’ your laughter stopped, it was no longer funny. What if he didn’t think it was funny, what if he matched on accident? What if he unmatched because of your stupid opener.

All of your worries went away when you saw that he was typing…

“alright, you caught me. not my dog, but you're cuter than any dog i’ve ever seen.”

“Dustin!” Steve yelled, snatching his phone out of his smaller friends hand, “Dude you don’t just blurt that kinda shit out.”

“i’m sorry, that’s not something i would actually say.”

“Alright, try again lmao.”

“it’s my friends, they set me up on this app. i’ve never really done anything like this before, so they’re trying to help me out, but aren’t doing a very good job.” read

“okay, okay. how about, you let me take you out on a date and we can talk, and get to know each other. no distractions” read

A few minutes pass with no response, “Shit! Shit, shit, shit.. this is awkward, she thinks I'm an idiot.”

Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, he turns around to see Will looking over his shoulder.

“Just give her some time, maybe she’s busy. Or trying to come up with a response?” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, a ding comes from Steve’s phone. He snaps his head towards his hands and his face lights up with a smile.

“Sure, sounds good to me. Gives me a chance to do this on my own, my roommate’s been up my ass this whole time. You got a snapchat? You know so I can get in contact with you outside the app.”

“Guys! I did it! She wants my snapchat!” Steve says looking to the teens who are sitting around a laptop, watching Netflix, paying no attention to him.

“yeah, totally. it’s stevethehair”

“Okay, hold on I'll add you.”

You go and add him on snapchat, the two of you hit it off instantly, and start to plan out your date. He’s planning on taking you to this diner named ‘Benny’s’ for dinner later in the week, due to busy work schedules throughout the week.

As the days go by, and you spend your time on your bed watching Cami go through the clothing in your closet. Walking from room to room pulling pieces of clothing together to make a full outfit.

“You don’t wanna over dress, but you also don’t want to under dress. You feel me?”

You nod your head when your phone vibrates on your leg. Picking up the phone, the smile that was once on your face slowly turns into a frown.

Cami turns around with a pair of jeans and a cute crop top to go with it, but notices your face and drops all of the clothes.

“Wait, what just happened you were so happy like 2 seconds ago.”

“It’s Steve. He just canceled.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #kait writes #Worlds Collide #worlds collide au #au #fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things au #steve harrington au #modern day stranger things #modern day fic

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hedgefairy · 3 years

Text

Well hello there. While I'm waiting for that breeches video I've been talking about to finally upload, here's

Bridgerton, Episode 4

Phew, half time!

If you've missed the other ones, the tag is Bridgerbore, btw.

Okay, so we start of with Dukey who's going home-ish because drama and heartbreak in the last episode. Stop pretending, nobody takes your pouting seriously! We all know it's twu wuv!

Erm. So, I know, I'm white and this is a delicate matter, but I gotta say I'm not super happy about the whole POC-justifying explanation here. I'd much rather have no explanation at all, it worked perfectly well in Merlin, and this is just as much historically inspired fantasy just with less magic, which I'm honestly quite upset about. I'd be far more okayer with the costumes and overall ugh-ness if there was magic.

But honestly, I'm not a fan of shoehorning that explanation in (it doesn't seem to come up in the books, either, where everyone is basically a baguette in terms of whiteness). The fact that the implications aren't discussed any further makes it even worse. We're talking about the British empire here, and while POC are apparently part of the society (but with more pressure, which... no, this is not how nobility works) the wealth and luxury of this age still stems from the exploitation of POC everywhere else. How isn't there a revolution going on? How is this not talked about? From all I see, Bridgerton is a fluffy, pastel, nice alternate version of the 1800s, and I don't get why anyone would put politics in there instead of just doing what TV tropes refers to as "colourblind casting" and be done with it. Either you do the alternate history thing thoroughly, or you just cast people for being pretty (and maybe good actors) instead of the idea the audience might have about a character's skin colour and have weird costumes and just roll with it.

Also the Queen's marriage seems to suck. I would have liked a deeper, more heartbreaking connection between George III and her, especially because I saw how my Grandmother suffered when she gradually lost my Grandfather to dementia, and it would have been a scene where we could see Charlotte as a person rather than a weird plot device in tafetta and bling, but no, she just seems as annoyed and bored and snappish as ever.

This is getting far too serious. Where's the snark?

We get some Tchaikovsky in the background, which is weird, tbh. Yes, I'm perfectly fine with them covering Top 40s hits and using waltzes from the 1950s, but I draw the line at something from the second half of the 19th century! It's not right! It screams its time of origin all over the place, and even worse, most of the characters would probably actually get to hear it later in their lives, it's not a decent anachronism, it just feels like bad research! This is serious business!

No really, where's the snark?

Oooh, I get it now. That was when I was really, really done with bingeing this show. Yes, I tried to get through as much of it as possible in one sitting. The notes read, in very shaky handwriting

I cannot possibly take more than that

in one day

, so let's continue a few days later when I felt like I could muster the courage to face it again.

So yes, I'm pretty sure this waltz is to young for this show.

Aww, look at that, flirting over cheese! I also like that one of the Featherington girls (I can't really tell the non-Pennys apart) has a suitor, they deserve nice things, too.

The musicians are a mood.

WTF with the hair and the strass. We don't like the strass. Make it go away.

I love Prince Freddy. The poor boy. It's doomed from the start!

Ah, Dukey (also at the ball, even though he was whining about things earlier) gets a heartbeat in the background, because twu wuv.

Middle Bridgerbro goes and meets with the Bohéme. I want more of that! That's finally interesting! That's my people! There's a cool bohemian lady with a pretty dress! People look interesting! Aaaah!

There's a random 18th century burlesque singer at this Regency ball, we need to talk about this. Oooh, it's Opera Girl! Cue Lord B turning into even more of an idiot while Ma Bridgerton tries to hook him up otherwise.

Of course Philippa (that's one of the Featherington Girls) can't possibly have anything nice. Thanks, Dad. You don't get to marry someone you like, that's the people across the street's thing! (by which I of course mean the Bridgertons, just in case anyone forgot the location layout here.)

Eloise is being weird to the housekeeper.

"Are you not supposed to be the smart one", the housekeeper retorts and I'm feeling it, followed by a "WTH, hero" about how servants are too busy to be Gossip Girl, you privileged prat. I think I actually snorted.

Penny gossips with Ducktail Colin, but he's more interested in Cousin, whose dress looks like it was made from the cheap curtains my ex best friend had in his first semester at uni, and God, I hate Daphne's kerchief.

Poor Prince Freddie is trying to propose to Protagonis Girl but of course there's Dukey in the background so she simply must run outside as dramatically as possible where he can find her as she equally dramatically rips the necklace Freddie gave her from her milky white throat. P&P-ish banter ensues. Yawn.

Dukey: * broods *

Daphne: * dramatically exits *

Dukey: * romantically follows her*, and oooh, snogging ensues, oooooh, instant second base, but Bridgerbro the Eldest (known also as Lord B) intervenes.

Lord B: "Marry her!"

Dukey: "I can't!"

Lord B: "Bitch!"

Dukey: "I can't!"

Lord B: "I want satisfaction!"

Me: "Don't we all"

Daphne: "You'd rather die than marry me?!"

(the fuck with her hair)

Middle Bridgerbro is still at the Bohéme-party, and still draws (naked people!). Gay vibes ensue, it's cute. This is Netflix after all, and it took four episodes to get some LGBTQ+ representation!

The Featherington's housekeeper looks a lot like O'Brien from Downton.

Cousin tells Penny about what a cutie Ducktail Colin is, also Penny's "night gown" is really cute (it's not a night gown. She's still wearing stays. It's also the only thing in the whole series that fits her well so far). Penny is super upset but gets interrupted by a hyperfocused Eloise. They fight, and Penny goes on about being mature and not being a "pretty Bridgerton", and that Eloise wouldn't understand. I get her, though, and really, having a perfect family and a "bad" family is such lazy writing.

Somber blah blah between Lord B and Daphne happens and Middle Bridgerbro gets dragged into it. He's informed that his life is pretty much over either way (either way being Lord B dying or being exiled for killing Dukey in the scheduled duel) because his oder bro basically just wants out of his duties. Sucks to be him.

Boxing Bro has to host a frustrated, possibly blueballed Dukey and offers himself up as a second for the duel.

Lord B goes and pleads with Opera Girl to get back with him (doooooon't) because of his little duelling plot and of course intercourse ensues. Girl, where's your self-respect?

Lord F comes into his dark study (we haven't seen much of him yet overall, he probably was too busy gambling) and hark, there's Lady F like the mafia boss I feel she should be, wo berates him about said gambling and that they're broke and how much he sucks. He starts crying, thumbs up for male vulnerability!, but it's kinda played for laughs via her awkward patting of him. Because of course (and I bet the late Daddy Bridgerton would never have lost his composure like that, but he didn't gamble, either, and these are the Featheringtons)

Lord B leaves Opera Girl for THE DUEL (I feel like this almost deserves a ™ by now).

We get gallopping horses! The drama! The panache! Daphne asks Ducktail Colin where it's going down because she wants to stop them, insert pandering feminist ranting about her choosing her own life but I don't really feel it and I wonde where her bangs go when she sleeps because her hair looks so different all of a sudden.

Lord B makes Middle Bridgerbro promise to care for Opera Girl in case he dies.

More gallopping horses! Daphne and her billowing cloak are pretty epic, to be honest, and there's Ducktail Colin on her heels. It's basically a family outing now!

Ugh, I like the seconds in this duel so much more. They should just off and go for a pint or something and leave Lord B and Dukey to their misery.

Duelling protocol ensues. Ten steps, blah blah, nice camera work, though.

Daphne full on rides into her brother's bullet, but she's fine (it would have been so dramatic, can you imagine? It would have been interesting!).

Oh no, they were seen (by her romantic rival, back when they had the dramatic make-outery in the park at the ball after the botched proposal. Sorry, Cressida is such a much better name than Daaaaphneeee. I have a RPG character called Cressida, I might be biased.), she's ruined if they don't marry!. and so she is basically emotionally blackmailing him into marrying her. But he can "never give [her] children!", and goes on how she deserves a household full of love like her family home because the Bridgertons are such a perfect family. God, they all annoy me so much.

Daphne ends the duel by saying that the Duke and her are to be married, with a pained facial expression, no less. I think I just wanna throw a pie in her face or something.

And that concludes Episode 4. That was a long one! Only four more to go! So this is

To be Continued!

Thank you for making it this far with me!

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rdmfavcpls · 4 years

Text

Breaking News

Title: Breaking News

Category: Digimon

Rating: T

Pairing: Ami/Arata

Summary: Arata wants to go to a convention about reporters. Ami tries to talk him out of it, but they still end up going. He finds out why she was so hesitant later.

Prompt: “I really wish you’d told me your mother was in town.”

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Digimon

Author’s Note: I’m just throwing this out here but for some reason, this story I am very proud of. I don’t know why, but every time I reread it I just felt proud. I haven’t felt this proud in my stories in a long time.

~~Story Begins~~

“Please, Ami,” Arata said. “I just want to go to one’s person’s talk. After that, we can leave.”

Ami stared at Arata. His face did not match the desperation that was showing in his grey eyes and his long black shaggy hair only highlighted the intensity of his grey eyes. “We can’t go next year?” she said hopefully.

She already knew the answer.

“No. Yukino only shows up to these conventions once every five years because of how busy she is. This year has been her biggest year since she started,” Arata said.

“I’m sure it will be uploaded online,” she said.

“It won’t have the same feel. Why are you doing this?”

Because I don’t want you to leave me.

Ami closed her eyes for a second. She knew that her fear and anxiety would show in her ocean blue eyes and while her flaming red hair would be able to hide her eyes, it would be weird for her to suddenly take her hair out of its side pony.

“Fine,” she said with a sigh that allowed her emotions to escape. A sigh that Arata picked up on. “I’ll go with you, but I won’t go to Yukino’s speech.”

I can’t destroy the image that everyone has for her. I could never measure up to her.

“Ami, is something the matter?” Arata said.

“Nope, everything is okay. I’m just disappointed I’ll miss the biggest episode of my soap opera,” Ami said. “I could sneak out and watch it while you listen to Yukino’s speech.”

She didn’t see Arata’s furrowed brow. “Ami, you don’t even watch soap operas,” he said. “Besides, Yukino’s speech isn’t scheduled at any of the times that soap operas come on.”

“Summer assignment. Need to watch three episodes and do a character study on all of the major characters,” Ami said.

“Okay, and you plan on doing this during Yukino’s speech?”

“It will give me something to do since I know she’s the only one speaking at that time,” Ami said. “This way you can stay longer and -”

“As much as I would love to get her autograph, I’m not that patient to wait in line,” Arata said. “You really don’t want to go, do you?”

“Not really,” Ami said.

He kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

~~Digimon~~

“You know, you didn’t have to dress up,” Arata said glad he had his hood up to hide his ears.

“What? You don’t like it?” Ami said as she poked his side. Her yellow shirt was replaced with a white shirt that had no sleeves and ruffles in the front and a black skirt.

“I never said that,” Arata said. “Shall we go?”

“Of course,” Ami said with a smile.

~~Digimon~~

Ami stayed close to Arata’s side. She had a tendency of getting lost in places like these, but she also trying to avoid someone.

She didn’t want her to see them.

“You okay?” Arata said.

“Yeah, why? Oh, am I getting too close to you?” Ami said. She took a couple steps away from him. “Sorry.”

Arata watched her. People did surround them, but he doesn’t know who they are and they are too busy in their own conversations to pay attention. He knows Ami is a saint, someone who deserves a man (or woman) that is a lot better than him, but he’s selfish. He’s been selfish the entire year that they’ve dated and she’s been patient.

She has the brightest smile on her face when she was allowed to poke him in order to tease or get his attention. She accepts his small kisses on her forehead and knows that is his way of saying ‘I love you’ because he’s too much of a coward to say them to her.

Next month they will have their one-year anniversary and he hasn’t properly kissed her yet.

“Arata?” Ami said in a small voice.

He reached over and grabbed her hand to pull her back to him. The grip of his hand didn’t loosen or change when she was too stunned to try and ask him if he was sure. He did use this moment to intertwined his fingers in between hers.

“You wasn’t too close. I know how easy it is to lose you in crowds like this for some reason,” Arata said as he allowed her to see the pink on his cheeks which meant his ears were red. “I know you didn’t want to come here, but you seem like you are in a room filled with predators and that you are prey.”

“Ah. Sorry. I didn’t think it was that obvious,” Ami said.

“Is there someone here who you are trying to avoid?”

Ami nodded her head and swallowed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you really wanted to go,” Ami said with a smile. “As long as I keep an eye out, I’m 60% sure that if I see her, I can escape before she notices me.”

“Is this person dangerous?”

“Oh! You should get going so you can have a good seat for Yukino’s talk.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll work on my soap opera project,” Ami said. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before she walked away.

Arata felt her hand pull away and he watched her walk away. He frowns. He didn’t realize that the person who she was avoiding would be here or that they were dangerous. He looked at his hand before he shoved it in his pocket. He was already missing the feel of her small, smooth, delicate hand in his own oversized hand.

~~Digimon~~

“That was super amazing!” Arata said.

He was walking next to Ami and they were heading back to his apartment.

“Yukino is so amazing and cool. Not only is she a hard-core overseas reporter, but she is also a big fan of history and video games!”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Ami said.

“Thank you so much for coming with me. You really should have listened to Yukino’s talk. Your mother is a reporter, isn’t she?”

“Yes, why?”

“Yukino gave a lot of notes over how to be the best reporter and everyone was taking notes!” Arata said as his pace quickened so he walked ahead of her.

He was still talking about Yukino’s talk and Ami knew he was in his fanboy state, but it hurt. Because he was talking about Yukino. Just like her past boyfriends.

She’s only had three boyfriends in her 21 years of life, but she’s left the last two because of Yukino. The little voices of self-doubt and jealousy whispered in the back of her mind that she had tried to ignore.

“I love Yukino!” Arata said.

Ami stopped in her tracks as the voices yelled inside of her head. She stared at Arata’s back as he kept walking. It was the first time she has ever heard him say that the L word.

Love.

It wasn’t directed towards a fictional character or a historical person. It wasn’t aimed at one of his family members or her. It was being aimed at Yukino.

A celebrity, a tough reporter that wouldn’t stop until they got their answers, a well-respected woman around the world, a fighter for many things, and a survivor of cancer.

Her own mother.

“Ami?” Arata said as he turned around to look at her when he noticed she wasn’t beside him. “Ami, are you okay?”

“What? No, I’m sorry,” Ami said. She grabbed her left arm. “I just remembered that I have an errand I needed to get done today.”

Arata narrowed his eyes as she grabbed her arm. It was a sign that she was lying that he wasn’t sure if she knew it or not.

“Sorry, I got to go,” Ami said and ran off.

“Ami! Wait!” Arata yelled.

She was already lost in a crowd of people. He couldn’t see her red hair anywhere and no one was being pushed or shoved out of the way.

~~Digimon~~

“Has any of you seen or heard from Ami?” Arata said as he reread his message before he sent it in a group chat. He sat his digivice down on the table and paced.

It’s been two weeks since Ami ran off. Their year anniversary was coming up and he hasn’t seen or heard from Ami except for when she messaged him that she couldn’t make it to their date. He’s tried to hack her digivice, but it was offline.

He picked up his digivice up as soon as a series of beeps sounded.

Yuugo: Not recently, why?

Yuuko: I believe I saw her at Akihabara last week,

Yuuko: She looked pale and showed signs of crying.

At least, Yuuko saw her. He didn’t like her description of his usually cheery and bright girlfriend. However, Nokia hasn’t responded yet. She’s usually the one who knows about Ami whereabouts or condition. The one who Ami goes to whenever they have a fight.

Arata: Nokia?

Nokia: ...Can you erase all traces of this conversation?

Yuugo: Why?

Yuuko: It is possible.

“Please,” Arata whispered. “Please tell me that she’s okay.”

Nokia: Try her apartment.

Arata: I already did. She’s not there.

Nokia: Try again. You might’ve missed her. Just be gentle when you see her.

Nokia: She’s hurting.

Arata: Thank you

~~Digimon~~

Ami yawned as she stood by the escalator on the first floor. She always enjoyed spending time with her mother, but so much as happened and she’s drained.

It didn’t help that she cried the first two nights her mom was back. Then they were busy baking that Ami believes she will have the smell of sugar, butter, and spices linger on her for a good month.

Her mother was a reporter and knew that Ami was hiding something and with Ami’s past experiences, she knew it was a boy problem. Yukino had to tell Ami something important as well so she took Ami out for shopping which was a mistake because her agent saw them and -

Ami rubbed her temples as she felt a headache approaching and the pain medication wearing off.

The agent crossed the line. He had grabbed Ami and shoved her against the wall. He had his phone out, ready to call the police because she was one of Yukino’s fans that got way too close when her mom got in control and fired him on the spot.

Than after Ami got checked out at the hospital and Yukino spoiled her and drowned her in love and apologizes. Yukino had to start the search for a new agent that WAS approved by Ami and would understand that Yukino cannot have a big workload since cancer has started its battle with her again.

“I need to remember to spoil Nokia soon,” Ami said as she continued to rub her temples.

Nokia was the only person who Ami leaned on at this time. She wasn’t going to fault Arata for his feelings over Yukino. She was interesting and hardcore to all of her viewers. Everyone loves her and Ami is nothing like her.

She also wasn’t going to fault her mother because her TV personality was still a part of her. She went to unscripted TV reporter from zero to one second when her ex-agent picked her up. Her mother was also a doting and lovable mother that always prided Ami has her biggest achievement and the best reward she ever received.

So, Nokia listened to her in a digicall as she cried and spilled all of her insecurities she always had about herself. Nokia learned about Ami’s past boyfriends and the internal struggle she has between seeing Yukino at events and avoiding her at events because of how she’ll act.

Nokia learned about her insecurities she felt with her relationship with Arata. She refuses to pressure Arata to do something that he felt uncomfortable doing just to push some of her own insecurities away.

Nokia took it all with a willing ear, a late night ice cream snack, cinnamon whiskey, and surprised comments (You’ve been dating a year and he hasn’t kissed you yet? Before you say it, kissing on the forehead doesn’t count.” “Hold up! You’ve been dating for a year and you haven’t heard him tell you that he loves you even though you say it almost all the time to him?” “Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier? Someone needs to tell him to man up and if he doesn’t then I call dibs on taking you away from him.”) with stride and promises not to tell anyone of her troubles.

That is until Ami and Arata get married and Nokia gives the maid of honor speech. It is also because of Nokia that Ami isn’t going to break up with Arata yet. Her own mother seems confused over Arata as well and told Ami to give him another chance.

“Ami!” she heard a familiar voice say.

She turned her head to face the person, but she was engulfed in a hug. Her chin was resting on a white-clothed shoulder and black hair was seen out of the corner of her eye.

“Thank heavens that you are okay,” Arata said. “You lied to me and then ran away. You kept canceling on me and I couldn’t track your digivice. Kyoko said that you had two weeks off and I couldn’t find you at any of your usual places.”

Ami didn’t say a word. She was stunned but she registered Arata’s comments.

Arata pulled back to look at Ami and she blinked. He looked as tired as she felt physically and mentally. His hair was always a mess, but it looked more of a mess and small bags were under his eyes and his grey eyes looked exhausted, but there was relief and happiness in them.

“Ami?”

“Sorry, give me a minute,” Ami said with a smile. “I’m in shock over you hugging me.”

Arata pulled Ami back into a hug. “I thought I lost you,” Arata said into her hair.

Maybe Nokia knew something Ami didn’t because this wasn’t how he usually acts. It couldn’t be because he was worried about her.

“I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Ami said. “I’ve been busy and I was going to message you today.”

“I’ve been trying to find you,” Arata said. He pulled away from her a little bit. “I missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Ami said. “Oh! Lily said you have a package waiting for you at the bookstore!”

“Why?” Arata said. “I haven’t pre-ordered anything for a while.”

Ami shrugged and held back a painful groan. “I’m just letting you know the message.” Arata grabbed Ami’s hand. “Huh?”

“You’re coming with me,” Arata said. “Please.”

Ami smiled. “Fine, I’ll go with you, but I am not going inside.”

“Why?”

“You know that I have an addiction to books,” Ami said. She went to grab the railing for the escalator only to wince in pain. “Ow.”

“What happened? Are you hurt? Nokia said that you were hurting.”

“I’m fine,” Ami said. “I just have some sore muscles in my back.” She tried to move her hand away from his but he only tightened his grip.

Arata looked at her like he didn’t believe her. He nodded. “Okay, we’ll take the escalator and before you ask, no, I’m not letting your hand go. Why did you run off two weeks ago?”

Ami paled as they rode the escalator.

“Ami.”

“It’s stupid, really,” Ami said as they got off the escalator.

“You don’t just run off because of something stupid. That’s Nokia’s department.”

“Oh! That was quick,” the lady that stands outside the bookstore said. “I’ll go grab the package for you, Mr. Sanada.”

“Thank you,” Arata said with a nod. He focused on Ami who stood by the blue robot.

“Like I said, it’s stupid,” Ami said and looked away.

“You may think it is stupid, but it must mean a lot to you. I can’t see how it will be stupid.”

Ami mumbled under her breath as Arata released her hand.

“What was that?”

“You said love for the first time in front of me,” Ami said.

Arata blinked a couple of times. “It was over a celebrity,” he said. “Someone who I will never meet in person. Even if I did, I wouldn’t leave you to go be with her. The way she acts is all scripted anyway, so that’s not even her personality.”

Ami wanted to argue that nothing that Yukino does is scripted. It’s mostly unscripted, but Lily had come back outside the store.

“Here’s your package,” Lily said. “Thank for doing business with us.” Her face went red. “I screwed up!”

“It was almost flawless, Lily,” Ami said with a smile. “Just keep practicing.”

“Thank you,” Lily said with a bow.

Arata started to walk away and he thought Ami was beside him. He didn’t notice a woman with a tan jacket on the escalator. “I don’t understand why you would run away from that. I mean I’m - wait a minute,” he said and then stopped. “This is addressed to me, but it has your return address on it.”

He turned around and saw Ami was still by the robot, but tan jacket covered arms was draped over Ami’s shoulders, the hands overlapping at the wrists by Ami’s chest. Brown hair was laying on top of red hair and Ami was looking up at the other person who had brown eyes behind glasses.

“I don’t like him.”

“You haven’t liked anyone that you have interviewed,” Ami said with a sigh.

Arata slowly walked towards Ami.

“He believed that I should be bragging about my rewards and trophies and blah. He also said that I should do double the work since I haven’t worked the past two weeks and ‘when the time comes’.”

Arata raised an eyebrow as the female took notice of him.

“You must be Sanada,” the female said. “Hello.”

“Yes, hi,” Arata said. He was surprised that he didn’t feel tongue-tied being around this woman like he thought he would. “Sorry to bother you but may I have my girlfriend? We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“Oh? I thought you were a fan of mine. Besides, I love Ami more,” the female said and rubbed her cheek against Ami’s.

“While I am a fan of your work, Yukino, it doesn’t give you the right to hold my girlfriend captive,” Arata said.

Yukino moved her head to rest back on top of Ami’s head. “That’s a first. I like him. Yeah, I remember him. He ran out of the room as soon as my speech was over. Didn’t even bother to stay for the autograph thing.”

“Book signing,” Ami said.

“Ami has a tendency of getting lost in crowds,” Arata said.

Yukino gave him a confused expression.

“What?” Arata said.

“I don’t believe you. I don’t have any trouble with Ami in crowds,” Yukino said.

“That’s because you have a heat sensor on me,” Ami said in a joking manner.

Yukino smiled. “No,” she said. “It’s because my mommy senses know you are nearby. Speaking of. My mommy senses are tingling right now. How is your head feeling? Your back?”

“Wait? What?” Arata said completely shock.

“Oh? Ami didn’t tell you? My ex-agent shoved her into a wall. She has a concussion and bruises all over her back,” Yukino said.

“She didn’t tell me that,” Arata said. “I was referring to what you said before.”

“Yukino is my mother, Arata,” Ami said. “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Arata. Her TV personality is still her.”

“It doesn’t come out when I’m not on TV unless Ami is in danger,” Yukino said with a laugh. “Anyway, your head?”

“Is fine and no you cannot skip out on the interview,” Ami said.

“Aww,” Yukino said. “I want to spend more time with you and your boyfriend.”

“Oda Mia is your next possible agent. She should be waiting for you at K-Cafe in a few minutes,” Ami said.

“Fine,” Yukino said and pressed a kiss to Ami’s cheek before she let her go.

“Good luck,” Ami said. She turned her attention to Arata. “Arata, I’m so so-”

“It makes sense now. The reason why you ran off. Because I said I love Yukino who happens to be your mother,” Arata said as he stepped close to her.

“Yes, Arata. I told you that -”

Arata kissed her forehead. “I love you and only you, Ami. However, I really wish you’d told me that your mother was in town.”

Lily hid inside the store and acted like she was putting books away only to watch everything unfold. She bit her lip so hard to where a little blood escaped from her attempt to hide her squeals.

She bounced on her toes as she watched Arata give Ami a true kiss for a change and lead her to the elevator. Once they were outside she couldn’t contain her squeals of excitement and scared some of the customers.

“That was so much better than an episode of a soap drama!” she said. “So glad I came to work today!”

#digimon #digimon story #digimon story cyber sleuth #Ami Aiba #arata x ami #Arata Sanada #fugitiveshipping #dialogue prompt #been sitting in my drafts for like ever

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lovelybuccky · 5 years

Text

Three Things That Are Certain (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your mother once taught you that when you feel afraid, you should look at your surroundings and find at least three things that are certain, just three things that you know to be true. However, a collection of photos are found from different points in history, and you are in every single one. Questions are being raised, and you are finding it more and more difficult to name those three things. But he is there to remind you of what they are.

Warnings: Violence, profanity, graphic violence and descriptions of pain in later chapters.

A/N: Woo chapter two! I know I basically just uploaded chapter one but I don’t actually have an upload schedule yet sooo...yeah haha. Also Bucky is actually in this chapter so that’s good :’)

Previous Chapter

It always amazing how much can happen in a day. Just this morning you were buying flowers at the market, finding anyway to brighten up your bleak apartment. It’s only temporary, you would tell yourself.

Then on your way back you were snatched away and beaten to pulp, flowers scattered across the alley floor. Eventually you woke up, experienced another beating, prepared yourself for death and then Captain freaking America turns up flies you to New York.

So a pretty eventful day.

Now your in the Avengers Compound, and it’s weird. It’s a stark contrast from your apartment in Berlin. The sofa your sat on actually has a cover, the fridge appears to be fully-functional, and you can walk around without your feet sticking to the floor. It’s very plush, and you’re just not used to it.

You squirm in your seat, shaking hands clinging onto your hot mug, a blanket draped over your shoulders. You should have been taken to a proper interrogation room for questioning, but after watching you intently throughout the journey here, Captain Rogers insisted that you were questioned in the comfort of the Avengers living room. These were special circumstances after all.

Only the Captain, Widow, Falcon and Hawkeye were on the mission, but the rest of the Avengers were brought together upon your arrival. It was easier this way, everyone getting all the information at the same time. There was a moment of silence before Stark finally broke it.

“So, were you born a freak or did they make you that way?”

“Tony-“

“What? This kid has been travelling through time, does it not make you just a little bit edgy that she could literally be playing this moment over and over again until it goes her way? Because I don’t think you are fully aware of what she’s capable of, Cap.”

“I am aware, but she’s just a kid, Tony. Yes she’s powerful, but so are all of us. We don’t know her intentions yet, she’s no more of a threat to us than we are to each other.”

All eyes are on you, and you swallow reflexively. You try to think of something witty to say, a sassy comeback to lighten the mood, but you realise it’s probably not the right time and you are just too tired. Clearing your throat, you interrupt the discussion, “I’m…thank you for the generosity you’ve shown towards me. I understand you concerns, they are completely justified. I will try to answer you’re questions as truthfully as I can, and I can assure you that my powers are no threat to you. They scare me just as much as they scare you…”

That last sentence comes out as a mumble, inaudible to everyone in the room. Well, almost everyone. Your gaze flickers to a familiar pair of blue eyes, staring back at you. They seem softer now, and there’s something else there that you can’t quite put your finger on. It’s not pity, not sympathy but almost…understanding?

Your eyes shoot back to Stark’s as he clears his throat, and the questioning begins, “Okay, let’s start easy. Were you born with these powers or were they given to you?”

You hesitate, “I wouldn’t say given…Hydra made me this way, against my will.”

“So you were an experiment?” Widow questions.

“I…guess so.”

“You guess so?” Falcon pushes.

“Well, I don’t know how many there were before me.”

“There are others like you?” Hawkeye chimes in.

“I-I wouldn’t know…I was kept in isolation, only let out for tests and training.”

Cap’s turn, “Training?”

“Yeah, you know like…physical training, combat and-“

Now everyone wanted a turn.

“You can fight?”

“Uh kind of, it’s a bit more complicated than that-“

“What’s complicated about it? Can you fight, yes or no?”

“Well, yes, but only when-“

“Then how did they catch you so easily? Why didn’t you just go back in time to before they caught you and attack them when they least expect it?”

“Well-“

“Clearly they didn’t catch her so easily if she’s managed to avoid them for like…70 years. What’s up with that by the way? How are you the same age in all of these photos?”

“It’s-“

“Dude, do you know nothing about time travel? Obviously she hasn’t just been wondering around for 70 years, she could go back right now and get her photo taken in some other point in history and she would have only aged five minutes.”

“Actually, it’s not as-“

“But if you think about it…”

It’s never-ending. You can barely get out one answer before two more questions are fired your way. Everyone is talking over one another, talking over you, and it’s starting to get overwhelming. Yeah, you usually don’t have trouble holding your own, but you’ve had one heck of a day and you are exhausted. You can’t even think straight anymore, your mind a whirlwind of answers and your own questions that had formed over the last few hours. How did Hydra find you? How did the Avengers know to rescue you? How much do they actually know about you already? Are you really safe here?

Vision becoming hazy, your eyes fall back onto the one person who hasn’t asked any questions. He scans your face, instantly recognising your distress and uncrosses his arms, “Guys. Guys…Hey!”

The room goes silent. Everyone’s staring at him now, and Stark’s arms are up in mock surrender, “Frosty has spoken. Everybody run for cover.”

Bucky ignores his comment, “It’s nearly two in the morning, can’t this wait until later? She’s clearly not a threat to us, otherwise she would have done something by now. Look at her, she’s been through enough today. She’ll be more useful to you when she’s had some rest and can answer your questions properly. Steve, Nat, Clint, Sam - your mission wasn’t easy, you need a breather too. And for the love of God,” he glares at Tony, “ask one damn question at a time, your giving me a headache.”

They continue to stare back at him, mouths agape. Clearly this doesn’t happen often.

Steve is the first to recover from the outburst, “Bucky’s right. This isn’t going to work if our head’s aren’t fully in it. We’ll get some sleep and continue this in the after noon. I do have just one question though,” his gaze settles on you again, “what’s your name?”

You can’t help but laugh, the fact that nobody had asked until now summed up this situation in all its absurdity, “Y/N, my name’s Y/N.”

He smiles genuinely at you, “Y/N, I’ll show you to your room whilst Nat and Wanda find you some spare clothes. You’re welcome to anything in the kitchen, and if you have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask.”

A fraction of the weight is lifted off your shoulders - not much, but it’s enough, “Thank you…Captain.”

He shakes his head, “Please, call me Steve.”.

You nod and let him lead the way, painfully aware of one set of eyes following you on your way out.

Coming out of the bathroom, you towel dry your hair and sit on the edge of your bed. Nat and Wanda had found some sweatpants, a t-shirt and a pair of thick socks for you to wear. They were obviously unworn, you don’t recall a time when you wore something so soft.

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s just past 2:30am, and suddenly a wave of exhaustion hits you. You hang up the towel and crawl into your bed. The covers are warm and fresh, and the mattress is so soft beneath you you feel like you’re floating. It doesn’t take long for the realm of sleep to welcome you with open arms.

Your eyes shoot open, sitting bolt up right as a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead, your chest heaving. It was just a dream, you think to yourself, it wasn’t real, just go back to sleep. Laying your head back down on the pillow you blink at the ceiling.

But it felt so real. You dreamt you were back in that God forsaken chair, leather straps holding you in place. Through a glass window you saw your family and old friends, facing away from you. You screamed and cried for them to turn around, to save you and take you home, but no sound came out. Tears were streaming down your face as they yanked your shoulders back and injected you with that sickly green liquid. The last thing you saw were the faceless figures of the guards and scientists that surrounded you, before you started falling, spiralling into the abyss.

…yeah this just won’t do.

Leaning across the bed you check the clock. 3:24am.

Okay, you could run off just two hours of sleep, right? Not that you had much choice anyway, there was no way you’d be able to fall back asleep now. You climb out of bed and head for the kitchen. A glass of water would probably help. Ideally you’d have a cup of coffee, but you didn’t want to risk waking up the others, especially not after all they had done to rescue you from that hell-hole.

Flicking the switch to the kitchen lights, you’re startled when you see another person in there already, setting up the coffee machine.

It was him.

He looks over at you, taking in your appearance, “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shrug, “Bad dream.”

He nods in understanding before chuckling slightly, “Me too.”

You look at each other for a moment, both recognising that neither wanted to push the other further, and both understanding that that was okay. He’s the first to break the silence, “Coffee?”

“I-uh…that would be great, thank you.”

You plop yourself onto one of the breakfast stools as he busies himself making the coffees. It’s silent between you two, but it’s not tense or uncomfortable, it’s just kind of…there. After a few minutes he slides your coffee across the counter to you, “Listen, I’m sorry about the others earlier. They were tired and…well this kind of thing doesn’t usually happen. I promise they mean well, we’re all just a bit…spooked, I guess.”

There’s a slight Brooklyn twang in his accent, and for some reason it makes you smile, “The Avengers? Spooked? I almost feel quite proud of myself.”

He laughs at that, and it makes something inside you buzz. His eyes crinkle at the sides, a full toothed smile caressing his features. Seeing him like this is odd, seeing him smile is odd, but something about it still makes you feel warm inside and you can’t pin point why. You dismiss it, it’s probably just your lack of sleep.

His eyes scan yours for the second time that evening, what he’s looking for you don’t know. He stops abruptly though, a realisation hitting him, “I-um, I’m sorry I-uh never properly introduced myself, I’m Bucky.” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand in yours, shaking it as you chuckle to yourself. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”

You stop for a moment. You were going to have to tell him and the others eventually, you might as well jump this hurdle now and get it over with.

“We, uh…we’ve actually met before.”

Next Chapter // Masterlist

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes

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3laxx · 6 years

Text

Wind update 11

Yeah finally moving on from the DJWifi

I been getting complaints so I deleted a bit and ended the former chapter the way it's now. Well, last chapter I got on reserve, let's see. It might be possible that I'll miss the next few upload dates on my schedule. Not like anyone would care a lot but thought I'd say it just in case. Enjoy~

Ao3 / FF.net

“So, Carapace.”, Ladybug grinned. He could tell she had thought about him a lot before even doing so much as smiling, “What’s your superpower?”

Chat propped himself up on Ladybug’s shoulder, leaning around her and let his eyes wander up and down the other boy’s body, smirking.

“I’d say it’s got something to do with a shield. Maybe protecting. Or time? I mean, Turtles are super slow, maybe you can slow down time.”

Carapace laughed, shaking his head as he turned away from the sunset, leaning back a little more.

“Turtles can actually be pretty fast and no, my power has nothing to do with time, sorry to disappoint you. But it’s a shield, yeah.”, he pulled the shield from his back and got to his feet, positioning himself next to the other two, turning away so he could show them safely. Behind him, he heard Ladybug getting to her feet and peering around him to see what he was doing. He smiled and slid his arm into the given holders, grabbing the steady handle that was installed on the inside.

“So, according to Master Fu, my superpower works a little like Chat’s cataclysm or Lucky Charm.”

Chat stood as well, accompanying Ladybug behind the new superhero.

“But I thought you could do a shield?”, he questioned and Carapace chuckled.

“Yep. It just morphs into what I need at that moment. For example, the shield could expand to a ball around me to keep me safe or it could create kinda like force shields, shielding someone or something that I want to protect. I can make it as big as I want, I think, and it’s gonna last as long as I want or until I detransform.”

Chat already laughed.

“Sooooo, it could just turn into a ball and you’d have to stay in there until you detransform?”, he cackled as Carapace half turned to him, shooting him a deadpanning look.

“Sure, because that’s how protection works. No, I can still kind of decide what to do with it. Like, you can choose to destroy something by turning it into ash but you can also choose to just stop making it function, like a short circuit for an electronic device.”

Ladybug gave Chat a light smack on the back of his head, then she turned to Carapace again. “Could you show us?”

He nodded, smirking at Chat who rubbed his head with a pout, then he widened his stance.

“Shellter!”, he exclaimed and the pattern of his shield began to glow. A wall of light emerged from the shield and expanded, faster and faster, until it touched down all around the three heroes on the roof, creating a dome in which a soft humming noise could be heard. Carapace allowed himself to relax and looked up at the swirling lightly cyan shield, grinning.

“Cool…”, he breathed, then lowered his gaze again to knock against the surface. His hand went right through.

Ladybug stepped next to him, tilting her head at his hand that was outside now.

“And now?”

He laughed, bending his hand to knock against the shield from the outside. It sounded like glass this time, echoing through the dome.

“I think the shield is letting those from the inside through. Or maybe us as the superheroes? I dunno yet, but it’s worth trying out.”

“Could also be that the Miraculous is letting people with a Miraculous through. Or maybe it’s the same with Chat’s cataclysm, you can choose who gets to pass and who doesn’t.”

Carapace shrugged, pulling his hand back in without a hindrance.

“I dunno, maybe.”

Ladybug smirked as she looked over to Chat who stared at the shield with wide eyes, already giggling to herself.

“Well, we could find out. Cara, try to concentrate on not letting anybody in or out!”

He smirked as well and concentrated on hardening the shield in his mind, then Ladybug pounced on Chat and pushed him out. Their partner stumbled right out of the shield, looking at them indignantly.

“What? Oh come on guys! You could’ve hurt me with that, bugaboo!”, he whined and his voice sounded muffled due to the shield and Ladybug giggled louder.

“Poor kitty. Now come in again – if you can.”

Carapace stepped next to her, snorting as Chat stepped into the dome again.

“So, I can apparently not influence a shield that’s already been created. Maybe if I create a new one and concentrate on it.”

“Or my theory with the Miraculous was right, that the shield lets through Miraculous wielders but not civilians.”, she theorized, soothing Chat by going up on her tiptoes and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. His face immediately softened and he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. Carapace bit his lip and looked away as he whispered something in her ear, feeling jealousy bubbling up in his chest.

He knew he wasn’t allowed to tell Alya, even if he wanted to. Master Fu had said that he needed to gain their trust first. And it was never good to have civilians know their identity, that had been proven time and time again while he had still been one but had known Marinette’s and Adrien’s secret.

It made them way too close to the action, way too easy to target. Even if they could be helpful. But Hawkmoth knew who Ladybug was and they had been there fighting with him when they had restored the Ladybug Miraculous.

Over the summer the Akumas had always found a way of involving Nino and Alya and it was honestly getting dangerous. Nino was just glad to have a Miraculous himself now.

Like this he could keep himself and, more importantly, Alya safe.

A small smile snuck on his lips as he watched the swirling cyan in front of him. He’d be able to keep her safe. But really this time, by not letting her take the cat Miraculous again, by not letting her run right into the action anymore and by being able to take a hit for her. He lifted his hand and watched his fingers going through the shield, the lightly cyan wall of light caressing his features but not letting him feel anything. He hummed to himself, pulling his hand back again as a beeping sounded from his wrist. He watched one part of the shell becoming dark green like the bracelet underneath the symbol, one part of five.

“Looks like you need to recharge, hm?”, Chat’s voice broke through to him and Carapace lifted his head, smiling at the other hero.

“Yeah, looks like it. Well, I still got a few minutes.”, he replied, then he cast his gaze down again and the small smile reappeared on his lips.

“Ooh, I know that look.”, Ladybug teased, coming closer, “You got someone special, Cara?”

The boy met her gaze and grinned, nodding proudly.

“The prettiest girl in the whole world. I just-… I guess I gotta readjust with her and-… And this…”, he gestured up and down his suit, shrugging. Ladybug placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him with a wink.

“It’s gonna be okay, trust me.”

Carapace snorted, gesturing between Chat and her.

“Well, you guys got it lucky, you’re both superheroes. Even if that has its downsides, too, I guess… But still. I don’t know how to juggle real life and this here yet and I haven’t even fought against an Akuma.”, he hung his head and added in his mind that he had at least not fought an Akuma in the suit yet. It would’ve probably been a dead giveaway to tell his friends, though.

“Yeah… I get you… Well, we’ve kept our identities a secret for years, too, and we got through it. Of course, it’s not easy at first but believe me, Carapace. You’re gonna be able to get through it, just as we were.”

Ladybug leant her head back and watched as the shield disintegrated to air as he pushed a button on the inside of the shield, then he smiled and nodded, placing the shield on his back again to have both his hands free.

“I guess so, yes… So, guys, I have four minutes left. I’ll go home now. Uhm-… See you tomorrow for patrol?”

Suddenly, Chat smirked very smugly and leant on Ladybug’s shoulder again, wiggling with his eyebrows.

“Oh no, Cara. We’ve – or better, I – got something else to do for you. We actually talked to Master Fu and he said you have to train to be the guardian of the Miraculous. We know you’re already taking lessons with Master Fu-”

“And we also know when so we won’t come barging in while you’re not in suit.”, Ladybug briefly interrupted, earning a short nod from Chat before he resumed.

“But we thought we’d give it a shot as well and train you to be more in sync with us as well. After all we’re a team now! So, Carapace, you interested in a few hours training with me tomorrow? Bug here can’t come, she’s busy with a project of hers.”

Ladybug elbowed him in the side and even if it was meant loving, Chat faltered a little, wheezing slightly. Carapace chuckled at his best friend.

“Yeah, sure. I’d love to train with you guys, it can only help. So, uh, tomorrow afternoon? Around five, maybe?”

Chat nodded and gave him a thumb up, his tail swishing behind him excitedly.

“Absolutely! Don’t you worry, Cara, I will properly prepare you to die in honor.”

Carapace stilled and stared at Chat who still grinned at him, then he slowly squinted his eyes.

“Aaaaaaalright. I think you watch too much Anime, bro. Anyway, I’m out, I need to be home soon anyway. See you tomorrow, then, Chat! Bye, Ladybug!”

He just merely saw Ladybug turning to her boyfriend as he already took off, ripping the shield underneath his feet to glide over to the next building and start running from there. It wasn’t far to his home but he still wanted to be careful so he took the longer way, just to be sure that nobody saw him.

But just as he was about to turn back, though, to get to his own house, he realized where he was. Across the street he saw a very familiar illuminated room, behind a big glass front and a balcony in the highest level of the house, under the roof. He hesitated, crouching down as his girlfriend stepped into her room, not looking out of the window but just strolling over to her laptop, sitting down on her desk and clicking a few times before beginning to type. She probably just came from tucking the twins in bed. The second beeping sound lightly startled him and he flinched, the movement in the semi shade from the street lights below attracting Alya’s attention. Her head turned and he froze, their eyes locking together. For a moment, nothing happened.

He didn’t even see her reaching for her phone, either to film him because he could be an Akuma or because she wanted to meet the new team member. They just looked at each other and he could’ve lost himself in her eyes but the third beep ripped him out of the trance.

Alya tilted her head as he stood up, now her fingers searching for her phone that she had thoughtlessly tossed next to her keyboard. He grinned and gave her a little greeting with two fingers to his forehead, then he winked and scrambled off.

Her surprised expression when the boy vanished into the dark, only faintly showing his silhouette over the dimly lit sky from the city lights was priceless and Nino chuckled to himself before sighing.

He wouldn’t be able to tell her. He couldn’t.

Well, he could, but-… Fu had been right to say that Nino wanted his team to trust him before revealing his identity. Plus-… It was probably better to keep his family out of this for as long as possible.

He had seen how alert Marinette had always been during an Akuma attack, exactly knowing that Hawkmoth could attack them at any time. And just like Alya and Nino, the Akumas had sometimes decided to take hostages to get where they wanted.

Marinette blamed herself for this. Even at her friend’s and parents’ begging to listen, to understand that she wasn’t at fault, Nino saw how it crushed her. How it weighed down on her.

And everytime one of her parents or friends had been captured, he saw it in her eyes how scared she was. How dangerous it was for her to fall back into the past, to break under what she had to go through once more when she saw in how much danger she had brought her loved ones.

They were just lucky Hawkmoth hadn’t done anything in his civilian form yet.

As bad as it was that he was so intelligent, this was to their advantage. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and harm Marinette or her family and friends as a civilian.

At least.

After a short run he finally reached his own home, his heart still racing from meeting his girlfriend in the suit. Well, he hadn’t met her, really. But she had finally seen him fully. He asked himself if she would be quick enough to figure him out, too, as she had figured out Adrien and Marinette as well.

And even if his heart longed for her to know, he hoped it would take her a long time. Maybe even not at all, until he revealed his identity to his friends.

He crouched down on the roof of his house, carefully glancing over the edge to see that the street was empty. He praised his parents under his breath for choosing such a quiet street to have their home, then he carefully dropped down from the roof, using his shield beneath him as a puffer. Safely and quietly he set foot on his windowsill and checked his room. The air was clear so he opened his unlocked window and slid inside, clipping his shield to his back again.

“Wayzz, shields down.”, he whispered as the fourth beep sounded, leaving him with one more part of the shell right before he detransformed.

The little Kwami flew out of his bracelet and Nino scrambled to catch him, securely cupping both his hands around the green god.

“Hey there, buddy.”, Nino grinned as Wayzz blinked at him, then he let his little friend down on the pillow on his desk and pulled the bowl of sunflower seeds closer, handing the little Kwami one.

“Thank you, Master Nino.”, Wayzz smiled at him, leaning back against the pillow as Nino snorted.

“Dude, you know you don’t have to call me master.”

His Kwami merely shrugged it off, lazily waving a paw at him.

“Sure, sure.”, he replied and Nino rolled his eyes, pushing his desk chair closer to start up his computer. On the screen a picture of the Squad lit up, a picture that they had taken over the summer.

Marinette looked way better already. She had gained a bit of weight after this torture and she had already found back to trusting them a little more. Her eyes still weren’t really there in the picture, she was just a little too thoughtful and drawn back, but she had tried so hard to get back to her former self after they had restored her Miraculous. Tikki and Adrien had massively helped by getting her back on track and Alya and Nino had been there for her the whole way. By now, it almost seemed like the old Marinette was back, even if she sometimes had backlashes.

But whenever something like this happened she knew she could trust her parents and her friends to be there for her. She knew she wasn’t alone anymore and that was probably why Nino loved this picture so much.

He smiled and typed in his code, then got to the desktop.

A picture of Alya and himself showed, one Marinette had taken without them noticing. They had sat on Alya’s bed, both with crossed legs and their knees touching. It had been a sleepover, as Nino recalled, because they had both been in their pajamas.

Their foreheads had leant against each other and they had listened to a new track Nino had mixed, Alya looking down at his phone with a relaxed expression, Nino looking at her, cupping her hands that held his phone on which the earphones were plucked in, scrolling through the pictures in his gallery.

He remembered that she had found something embarrassing just moments after this photo had been snapped, some drunk selfie he had taken at some point after turning sixteen, between all the photos of his family, vacations and his DJing stuff.

She had giggled so adorably as he had scrambled to get the phone from her, falling back and coaxing him to fall with her. He had blushed when he had found himself on top of her and she had laughed, kissing him softly before Adrien had groaned, telling them to get a room.

Nino smirked at the memory, his lips still tingling as he thought back to it.

“What are you smiling about, young master?”, Wayzz asked softly, shifting on his pillow to be able to look at his wielder. The boy chuckled and leant back, still looking at his screen.

“Oh, just-… Realizing how lucky I am to have a girl like Alya.”

“Widen your stance, Carapace.”, Chat instructed while walking around him, nodding slightly as Carapace followed his advice, “With a good stance you can’t be brought out of balance so easily. Like this you’ll be able to have a better defense.”

He did his best not to look at his teammate, knowing exactly that Adrien normally should’ve been at home practicing the piano instead of standing in the stadium with him, training him in martial arts. Oh, what his father would say to that if he knew.

Chat came to the front again, grinning brightly as he mimicked Carapace’s stance, bringing his hands up in a position to fight.

“And now, I will attack you and you try to stay standing, alright?”

The boy gulped and nodded, softly clenching and unclenching his fists nervously. He knew what Chat was able to do. He had seen him fighting before.

“A-Alright.”, he stuttered, his eyes trained on his best friend’s every move as the black clad superhero surged forward, hooking his leg around Carapace’s and trying to push against his chest to get him to fall. Carapace pulled his leg away and turned, still facing Chat but quickly bringing both feet firmly to the ground not to leave a weak spot.

His sparring partner grinned, nodding as he went back in the starting position.

“Very good. But what if I tried something else?”, Chat smirked and before Carapace could react, Chat had already grabbed his arm and thrown him over his shoulder. His partner laughed at the surprised expression that the boy couldn’t hide as he found himself lying on the floor, having trouble breathing.

“Don’t worry, Cara. You’ll get used to reacting faster.”

He stretched out his hand and Chat took it, pulling him up to his feet again.

“And again, let’s go!”, Chat enthusiastically exclaimed while Carapace merely groaned.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfic #wind #Breeze #nino lahiffe #carapace #adrien agreste #chat noir #marinette dupain-cheng #ladybug #ladynoir #freckles writes

11 notes · View notes

miyotesse · 7 years

Text

Shimmer and Sear

So, I slightly forgot to upload this yesterday! So have a bumper upload today!

---

Upon arriving at a new town, Kirsikka our intrepid thief is beckoned by a mysterious woman with a tumultuous past. She has heard rumors of the deeds done by the travellers, and wishes to employ them to rescue a princess. Now that may seem like old hat, but things are not what they seem, as Kiri and Celeste soon find out.

---

Shimmer and Sear

Many call it the backbone of the world. The Union Firth, the grand waterway that splits the continent of Mahdol in two, and spreads through it like arteries and veins. Lives are lived upon its waters, and lives are lost as well. On one particular day, in the midst of autumn, when the trees were turning golden brown and the nights were drawing colder, one particular vessel was docking at a large market town. The boat of black and gold, unnamed to all but those who knew her, was tethered to the dock with heavy rope, thicker than even the ropes used to tie the great galleons further down at the coast.

“Kiri, I need you to do the shopping this time round, I have some business with the authorities here,” Celeste said as she rode down onto the wooden dock in her wheeled chair. Kirsikka brushed her brown locks aside from her face, and rolled her eyes.

“That sounds entirely unentertaining. I cannot promise I won't keep my hands to myself on this most boring of missions,” Kiri replied, her hands lightly resting upon the two handles at the back of the shiny brass and plush red velvet chair. Celeste let out a little chuckle, and shooed the girls hands away from the handles, rolling herself forwards using the wheels.

“I would expect nothing less of you. Don't forget that you need new ink, so you will need to find that somewhere too. You may buy it with any remaining funds,” she said, reaching into the pockets of the chair to pull out a small, heavy bag of coin, and a scrap of paper with words written on it in a swirling, cursive text.

“Fiiine, I will go buy you your trinkets. But I'm also gunna buy a cake, and eat it all myself, none for you,” she said with a pout. Celeste chuckled again, but did not respond, merely continuing to roll along the docks.

A few hours later, bundles of food and water hanging from her arms, Kirsikka was making her way back to the Rakas when she heard a noise.

“Psst, hey, leather girl,” a voice called from behind a large stack of barrels and crates. Kiri grinned widely, and set her shopping on the ground, casually pulling one of her knives from her boot. She paced over to the barrels, a smile on her face.

“You know, only my bandoliers are leather. The trousers are silkweave canvas, and my shirt is actually hide, not leather. It's softer. But good eye from that far,” she said, tossing the knife idly as she entered the darker area.

“Brown girl would've been a little insensitive, I think, but thank you for coming over anyway. I had hoped to speak with you about something very impotant,” the voice spoke, as a woman emerged from behind a barrel. She wore loose, baggy trousers, an armless tight shirt in vermillion red, and had white bindings wrapped around her left arm just above where her elbow should have been. Golden hair cascaded down her back, and her eyes were a fiery orange, and bore a great sadness to them.

“As much as I appreciate being lured into an alleyway by a vision of divine beauty, couldn't you have approached me like a normal person?” Kiri replied.

“It is too dangerous for me to be seen on the streets. The city guard are on the lookout for me, and if they find me, they will try to kill me,” she replied. Kiri arched an eyebrow at this.

“OK, I'm interested. What did you have to say?” Kiri asked. The woman took a deep breath.

“My name is Ling. I may not look it, but I am a member of a tribe of warriors, with many years of battle under my belt. My mother was a great hero in my home, and my father, a wanderer from the wastelands. My family were celebrated among my people as powerful leaders, sworn to protect our interests, and our lands. We fueded with many other tribes, but brought peace to our homelands, a peace that barely lasted. A wretched man, Baron Ashna, brought ruin to our sacred lifestyle, and could not be bargained with. A terrible war broke out, a war that decimated my people, and has me separated from them. I have been forced to beg and scrape to survive, taking on work whenever I could, to keep myself from wasting away even more than you see before you. Several weeks ago, I... yes?”

“Does this story have a break at some point? Only, I kinda have to go pee, and after that, I have a packed day of nothing ahead of me, so I'm busy busy busy,” Kiri replied, leaning back against the crates.

“I'm sorry that the plight of my people bores you so. Fine. I have met a woman who I owe a great debt, and before I leave this town and return to my people, I wish to free her from the local prison. I need help, because even I cannot take on dozens of armed guards alone, and without armour,” she said.

“What makes you think I can help you. Or that I even will?” Kiri asked.

“I have heard rumors. Tellings of a boat with no name, crewed by a woman who knows all secrets, and one whose momentum in a fight is never lost. They say that one is cold and distant, the other an outrageous flirt. You two arrived earlier, on a boat with no name. I took a gamble,” Ling replied. Kiri nodded her head a little, and smiled.

“Let me see what I can do, miss warrior,” she said, scooping up her belongings, and heading for the ship.

“I'm back! Did you get the shopping?” Celeste called as she tapped at the prow of the boat. Kirsikka poked her head up from the roof of the vessel, and waved idly.

“Got everything on the list, got my ink, found a cool business opportunity, and even managed to get in some practice. Oh, and I bought you some actual nice coffee, so you can finally be kind to your tastebuds,” she said, pulling herself along the boat as Celeste rolled up to the ramp.

“Hmm... you must be interested in this... opportunity... if you've neglected to ask me about my own activities,” the dark skinned woman replied, pushing herself up onto her leg, and pulling herself onto the rail attached seat that she used when driving the boat. A few catches were pulled and a lever lowered, and the metal planks that the wheeled chair rested on began to rattle, as the ramp began to slowly rise into the air, folding onto the deck with the chair on top of it.

“She's gorgeous, long golden hair, dazzling eyes, unh! I could do so many things to that woman, naughty, shocking things,” Kiri purred, rolling into her back, looking at Celeste upside down. “But yes, let's talk about your boring thing that doesn't involve a beautiful if overly verbose gift to the world,” she added, poking her tongue out.

“The negotiation went well. We will be arranging for a delivery of a dozen boxes to be taken to Yeshna, for a fee of ten thousand Denar,” she said. Kiri's eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Ten thousand? What are we shipping, slaves? I thought we didn't do that, Celly,” she said, rolling over and moving to stand.

“Calm down, we don't. I was quite emphatic about that. It's 'none of our business', so I did a little investigating, and we're taking White Tiger,” she replied.

“Drugs? Eww. Pass. You can deal with that, I'm not interested,” Kiri said, slumping back down onto the roof.

“That's perfectly fine. You'll just have to earn your own money for a while,” Celeste shot back at her with a smirk. “Well? What about your little opportunity?” she asked, using a little control panel to let the chair slide up along the solid rails towards the roof.

“You ever hear of the warriors of Tel'rethar?” the brown haired woman said.

“Can't say that I have. Why?”

“No real reason. I just think I met one of them. She seemed to be interested in a jailbreak. I'll be honest, I just want to see her fight. There was a legend about the warriors, that they only got stronger the more they got hurt, and this one's missing her arm. I get chills just thinking about it,” she said, biting her lip.

“Ah, is this the blonde? What do you see the prize to be? You can't be thinking so altruistically,” came the response.

“Well... I need to confirm it with the target, but, I think there's something more to it. You remember the time with that bard, and what went on? I've got the same tingles,” she said, rolling to her side to look at her partner.

“I have been a fool not to trust your instincts before, Kirsikka, but I must admit I am a little trepidacious. A jailbreak is no easy feat, and we are on a schedule now,” Celeste replied.

“Let me go back to her, I'll confirm a few things and come back to you,” she said, curling up slightly.

“Very well. Speak with your golden haired warrior tomorrow. And don't sleep on the roof again, you'll catch a cold. Hey. Kirsikka! Damn... you are a fool of a child,” Celeste said, as Kirsikka's breaths became more shallow, her eyes tightly shut.

#Kirsikka #Celeste #Union Firth #Original Fiction #ShiSe

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gossipnetwork-blog · 6 years

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How Women, Tech Took Over Porn: Inside the 2018 AVN Awards

New Post has been published on http://gossip.network/how-women-tech-took-over-porn-inside-the-2018-avn-awards/

How Women, Tech Took Over Porn: Inside the 2018 AVN Awards

From #MeToo to cam stars, this year’s Oscars of the obscene showcased the future of porn

Here’s a Black Mirror pitch: You pay several hundred dollars to attend the world’s biggest porn convention and awards ceremony. You travel to Las Vegas, where the air has transformed into mentholated nicotine vapor and no one will validate your parking. You do this in order to meet porn stars in the flesh, to see them onstage celebrating the Oscars of the obscene, because – even though, according to Scientific American, half of us are now creating our own sexual content on our personal devices – there’s something superhuman about sexual celebrities.

Death of a Porn Star

When August Ames killed herself following controversy on Twitter, it revealed a schism between the gay and straight communities in the porn industry

But when you arrive at the convention, in place of your 1990s dream of impossibly proportioned stars in bedazzled Lycra posing for Polaroids, what you see is a 15,000-square-foot hall teeming with hundreds of beautiful, semi-clothed models of all shapes and styles, grinning into their laptops. You try to talk to a young woman in heart-shaped pasties and booty shorts, but she’ll only give you a few seconds of attention before she’s back to clicking her shiny gold nails across her keyboard.

Here’s the twist: This ain’t no dystopian nightmare. Attendees of the 35th Annual Adult Entertainment Expo and Adult Video News Awards were treated to precisely this display of tech-mediated intimacy. Plenty of big names were in attendance – stars who had led more traditional adult-film careers – but they were outnumbered by scores of up-and-coming models who primarily built their own businesses using cam shows, original clip stores and monetized social-media platforms. The mass availability of easily pirated streaming video may have decimated the porn economy, but it seems that women are the ones adapting, finding fresh ways to connect directly with consumers. As these models gain more economic influence, they are also raising the bar for consent conversations throughout the industry.

The last time I was at the AVNs was in 2012, when I was nominated for producing and directing a niche site called QueerPorn.TV. My Bay-Area scene was proud to think of ourselves as the forward-thinking weirdos, exemplifying the characteristics of the queer porn genre: body-positive and diverse, with a riot-grrrl aesthetic. We were nominated in the somewhat self-contradicting category Best Professional Amateur Site, and were miffed when we lost to Clips4Sale, a platform which had been around since 2003 for creators to upload and sell short original videos. Here we were, indie smut with a vision, and we lost to a tech host?

Now, it seems as clear as a Bellagio fountain that clips stores were the future of “professional amateurs.” While much of the male-dominated porn studio system is fighting against stolen content, independent female artists have been able to establish a sustainable business, producing their own content and marketing it to a small but loyal fan base.

One such artist is Bratty Nikki, a leggy, half-Mexican, half-Irish woman with a frosty reality-TV aesthetic: blonde extensions, impossible nails, skin-tight miniskirts and designer spiked heels. She sat on a gleaming white couch in an enormous booth on the expo floor, calling attention to her shirt, which read; “Never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants,” says Bratty Nikki. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

Nikki is the executive vice president of IWantEmpire.com, an umbrella company that includes IWantClips, IWantPhone, IWantFanClub and IWantCustomClips, with more in the works. Hers is one of many companies vying for dominance in a sort of clips market arms race. Nikki got her start seven years ago working as an online financial dominatrix, offering phone and cam sessions to clients in which she expressed a personality she tells me isn’t really a character. “I am a greedy brat,” she says. “I believe that I deserve the best out of life. My fans love that I’m confident enough to say, ‘This is what I want and you’re gonna give it to me.'”

She started IWantEmpire with her husband, entrepreneur Jay Phillips, because she felt other host sites were underestimating her as an artist. Like other platforms, they take a cut of the profits, but the artist sets their own price and decides what and how much they want to upload. Their brand expanded to offer a store for consumers to order custom clips, and a fan club where artists can monetize social media-like “lifestyle” content. As it turns out, kinky consumers are willing to pay for content created by people who understand precisely what they’re looking for.

Like many fetish clips, Nikki’s videos don’t include sex or even nudity, just specialty monologues in which she teases, chastises and degrades her devotees. In the larger-than life video projected over us in the booth, she wore skinny jeans and a tank top, standing in an apartment entryway holding shopping bags. “Yes, I’m leaving you,” she spits at the camera with an exaggerated eye roll. “I’ve already maxed out your credit cards. Taken a bunch of vacations with my girlfriends that you paid for. You’re going to be sitting home alone tonight crying into your pillow as you hate-jerk your little cock.”

The audacity of financial domination is a perfect fit for naturally bossy women. Haven, a Haitian-American dominatrix from Orlando, says that when she was go-go dancing and camming she didn’t take direction from clients very well. When she discovered that she could make fetish clips online, it was a way for her to make a career off her genuine demeanor. “I really don’t want to talk to you; I really just want your money,” she deadpans. “That’s me, wholeheartedly.” Now she films around 15 short clips every Sunday, improvising on topics like small-penis humiliation or jack-off instruction. She spends the rest of the week editing footage, scheduling uploads, writing marketing copy and promoting her brand on social media.

Fans mill about the floor of the AEE. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

“It takes a lot of work to make this look so easy,” she says.

I tagged along to an afternoon of clip shoots at a local film studio run by porn director/performers Madeline Marlowe and Will Havoc. Havoc was pulling a red and black leather harness over his tattooed chest, preparing to shoot sex scenes with two porn stars named Riley Nixon and Arabelle Raphael.

Riley, who was nominated for Best New Starlet at the AVNs, wiggled into a canary-yellow latex two-piece and platform heels. As she filled out her legal paperwork, she kept squatting and yanking on the rubbery crotch of her outfit. Even though she was following a conventional route to adult film fame, signing at the Penthouse booth and shooting for notorious gonzo studio Elegant Angel, she also sold Skype shows, custom clips and signed Polaroids on her personal website. She would post today’s footage on her own ManyVids and OnlyFans pages, where fans can pay a monthly membership for access to exclusive content.

One advantage to making her own content is that she has more leeway to maintain her preferred androgynous style and buzzed head – some mainstream studios still won’t cast models with short hair or tattoos. “I’ll wear a wig to play a character, but I don’t want to have to wear a wig to play the role of a woman,” she complains.

Arabelle has had to deal with her own hair troubles in the industry. She’s a French-Persian Jew, and long ago grew tired of being expected to straighten her hair and use skin-lightening makeup to work with certain directors.

“I was being cast in really racist roles,” she says, “and basically told I was not good enough.” She took time off to build her own membership site, a Clips4Sale store, and an OnlyFans following, discovering unprecedented financial and emotional success. “I had no idea I was a good performer and that people wanted more content of me,” she says. “I left my hair curly, got as many tattoos as I wanted, shot with who I wanted.”

Riley, Arabelle and Will showed one another the results of their standard STI tests on the secure Performer Availability Scheduling Services database. They negotiated sexual boundaries and preferences while doing their own costuming and makeup. With low production cost and the creative advantage of working with friends, they’re each an individual porn studio unto themselves.

Will Havoc, Riley Nixon and Arabelle Raphael film a scene after hours. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

Porn stars work hard and party hard, and sometimes they work while they’re playing. Late that night, I was invited to a private sex party with a hard-to-obtain address. A Lyft took me away from the light pollution of the strip to an edge of town tract housing development. Through the unfurnished living room, past an ominously neon-lit pool, was a warehouse filled with porn stars smoking blunts and offering one another bumps in their rhinestone-encrusted nails.

Hired stars ascended to a sort of wrestling platform in the center of the room, performing exaggerated lubed-up sex for onlookers to the rhythm of deafening drone metal. My friends, a polyamorous “family,” decided to find a quieter room in which to play. As I enjoyed a beer and watched sex-worker activist Siouxsie Q fuck her curly-haired boyfriend Michael Vegas, an AVN nominee for Best Supporting Actor – as her Barbie-blonde pro-domme girlfriend Bella Bathory was eaten out in a nearby chair – it occurred to me that we were doing exactly what porn fans assumed we must be doing. I felt like I had ringside seats to watch NBA superstars play a pick-up game.

As the four-day convention wore on, the all-night partying didn’t threaten to slow anyone down. The AEE still makes the classic circuit demands of conventional porn stars, each scheduled to appear for three- to five-hour shifts, where they were to sign and sell eight-by-10 glossies, allow hands around their waists and shoulders, smile, twerk, tell fans how their favorite position is still reverse cowgirl, princess wave, talk to men like they’re babies, talk to men like they’re dogs. But it was the cam models who had the boundless energy, who behaved like Vine stars or friends at a slumber party that just happens to be surveilled. They hovered over their screens, promising to spank one another in exchange for tips; the ding of virtual tokens being earned echoed the slots at the nearby casino.

The models had each brought their own laptops, colorfully branded with their stage names. Most of them had elaborate production rigs including flattering ring lights, bulky webcams and phallic microphones. Cam models perform all kinds of explicit shows when they broadcast from their homes; but, due to city-wide nudity laws, they couldn’t wear less than pasties and a thong at AEE. That meant no dildo shows or live sex. Yet their chirpy conversation still had value for the members watching from home, some of whom had actually financed the travel for their favorite model.

Performers at the FreeCams booth. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

At the booth for the webcam company Chaturbate, both men and women were making cameos on one another’s screens. This seemed to be in defiance of the porn convention that objects of desire should be separated, lest a consumer’s taste be offended or boner deflated by something they weren’t expecting to see.

A male model named Leon with One-Direction hair and powder-blue briefs explained to me that one of his online fans had just told him he was enjoying watching all the broadcasts because, “It’s like seeing all of the characters from my favorite TV shows in a crossover episode!”

I approached a group of giggling young camgirls in pastel-colored wigs. They were teasing a group of bystanders, telling them to tune in to their group cam show later that night “to see some real action.”

I asked them if they were hoping that in future years they’d be as famous as the porn stars in the Wicked or Evil Angel booths? Did they want everyone to know their names?

One of the models shook her head vigorously, making her unicorn-horn headband wobble. “The more famous you get,” she pointed out, “the more people will pirate your content.”

Her friend, who was wearing a mesh leotard with skeleton hands covering her nipples, agreed: “We make more money when only our fans know who we are.”

MyFreeCams performer Lil Miss Angel at the 2018 AEE. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

With the national conversation surrounding #MeToo, it was no surprise that the sex workers at AEE were ready to address the topics of harassment and bodily autonomy. Members of the Adult Performer Advocacy Committee (APAC) handed out colorful “What Is Consent?” flyers, which illustrated how consent is “informed” and “freely given,” and that it “can be revoked at any time.”

For the second year in a row, every single convention attendee – fans and exhibitors alike – was required to sign a Code of Conduct form that outlined, for example, the difference between a consensual public picture and a violation such as an upskirt.

The Code of Conduct described a zero-tolerance policy towards “stalking, unwelcome physical contact” and “offensive verbal assaults,” emphasizing that guests were “welcome to use the restroom that match their gender presentation or identity.” This last stipulation was especially welcome from the trans community attending the awards, as two years ago several performers accused Hard Rock security guards of disrespecting a gender non-conforming attendee.

Some participants were aware of ways they could make their models more comfortable. Best director nominee Greg Lansky, a delightfully flashy French pornographer in a red Givenchy tracksuit, says that he literally elevates his studio so that fans can see women “on a pedestal.” His security teams knows which performers are ok hugging and touching their fans and which aren’t.

“I’m trying to make these girls feel good about what they do,” he says. “They all worked really hard to get here.”

With security at all corners of his booth, with its Instagrammable gold couch and open bar, Lansky believes fans get the message that women deserve respect.

“It’s hard for me to go anywhere [in the hotel],” says Jessica Drake, a Best Actress nominee, from the relative privacy of her pristine media suite. “Guys congregate in groups of 30 and just stand there. They circle you. I’ve become a master of taking a selfie and restraining them at the same time.”

Director and performer Joanna Angel, owner of the alt genre site Burning Angel, says she’s never had a bad experience with a fan at AEE. “The fans are traveling to be here,” she says. “They’re really looking forward to this. People wait in really long lines to come see you.” The only time she’s seen nonconsensual groping is from men at the bar after the convention, whom casino security quickly ejected. “I wouldn’t even call guys like that fans,” she says, just entitled jerks.

Ron Jeremy, who has been considered more of a walking novelty than active performer for many years, was banned from the convention and awards show following his claim that groping is a part of the job of his pubic appearances.

In a statement to Rolling Stone, AVN CEO Tony Rios commented, “Ron Jeremy admitted guilt to specific aspects of our code of conduct policy. We discussed this with Ron, and he was not allowed to attend the convention and awards show.”

However, performer/director James Deen, who was accused of on-set misconduct as well as intimate partner violence back in 2015, was nominated at and attended the awards.

Rios clarified, “We did not prohibit people from attending based on accusations.”

Siouxsie Q, who was recently elected secretary of APAC, is upset about what she sees as double standards, where the young, powerful Deen is still welcomed while aging Jeremy is put out to pasture.

“I think we see similar trends in Hollywood. These accounts of Harvey Weinstein’s predatory behavior aren’t coming out during the height of the Kill Bill franchise, but rather in the soggy aftermath of Paddington Bear 2,” she says. “As someone’s star dwindles, people are more willing to watch them fall.”

Deen’s attorney Michael Fattorosi characterized comparisons to Jeremy as “inaccurate and unfair.” In a statement, he said, “James was never investigated criminally, nor were there ever any lawsuits filed against him by any of the accusers. Nor did James ever admit to any misconduct on his part.”

And unlike other industries where powerful men continue to be reckoned, those in porn face powerful taboos. “It’s challenging for adult performers to speak out regarding any abuse that occurs; it is because it perpetuates stigma and allows for society to tell us we asked for it,” says Tasha Reign, an APAC chairperson.

Siouxsie Q agrees that stigma plays a huge role in consent controversies within the sex industry. “As long as sex workers have as much difficulty as they do when reporting and prosecuting sexual assault,” she says, “there will continue to be a culture of silence, victim scrutiny, and inconsistencies in how the industry responds.”

Janice Griffith was nominated for the Best Actress award at the AVNs. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

“What do you think of this dress? It’s very ‘Times Up,’ but is it whorey enough?”

Janice Griffith, a Best Actress nominee, is in her hotel room preparing for the awards. It’s true that her black cocktail dress is not as provocative as some of her colleagues’ revealing red-carpet looks. The teal undertone in her ombre hair is fading. She’s Indo-Caribbean, Angelina Jolie-skinny, and speaks with a husky authority. She barks at her date not to interrupt her, impulsively dumping out a jar of candy because there’s nowhere else for him to pour her a fresh vodka cocktail.

None of Janice’s friends in attendance know how to roll a joint. I’m happy to oblige, so she gratefully hands me a packet of rolling papers the size of a hot dog and a sack of sativa the size of my laptop.

“Our biggest issue is that we treat an industry of freelancers as if we’re an industry of employees,” Janice says. Despite the efforts of the Adult Performer Advocacy Committee and Free Speech Coalition, in her view, porn is currently too under-regulated for meaningful accountability.

“When men make women uncomfortable, we brush it off,” she says, “because we know people will write us off as being over-reactive or emotional.”

I visited many porn star rooms and saw both their self care safeguards and true psychological states – Sephora explosions and Cosco-sized boxes of Tangerine Emergen-cee, elaborate dabbing rigs and electric kettles. Janice had brought Complete Works of Kierkegaard.

Harli Lotts, co-host of the AVNs, dons a suicide awareness and prevention ribbon on the red carpet. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

As the red carpet wound its way through the Hard Rock, gamblers and bar patrons scrambled for a glimpse of the stars. While many pornographers opted for prom-worthy gowns and suits, their outfits nodded to their profession with bare midriffs, waist-high slits and undulating décolletage. Some wore little more than fringed bikinis. Lance Hart, founder of the PervOUT network, stood out in a stripper-style policeman’s shirt and fishnet stockings; he was handcuffed to his date Charlotte Sartre, who revealed on Twitter that she was not wearing anything underneath her slinky black dress. Abella Danger, last year’s Best New Starlet, shimmered in a transparent bodysuit adorned with strategically placed green and pink crystals.

The AVN awards show was predictably raunchy but surprisingly sincere. Co-hosted by comedian Aries Spears, Australian performer/director Angela White and camgirl Harli Lotts, the event’s biggest draw was hip-hop star Lil Wayne, who performed two high-energy sets with a drummer and DJ. The teleprompter dialog meshed well with the talents of porn star presenters, who were well-practiced in the art of the arched eyebrow and exaggerated wink.

White set a record by winning fourteen awards, the most AVN wins in one night. Clutching her Female Performer of the Year trophy to her remarkable cleavage, she emotionally thanked her co-stars for “allowing me to be vulnerable.”

Tommy Pistol, the Best Actor winner for a film called Ingenue, praised the industry for being a “fucked up family.”

Yet Spears, a MADtv alum, did not seem to pick up on the changing attitudes in the room. “Your personal space should not be invaded,” he declared, before utterly failing to read the room. “However, you bitches look delicious tonight. If I should come up to you and beg you for a blowjob, can you blame me? I am a hot blooded heterosexual male in a room full of professional cocksuckers.”

Eventually, the celebration came to an end. The false eyelashes were peeled off, the hangovers medicated with Ibuprofen and brunch. Pornographers’ minds return to their business, and to the social challenges they continue to face.

“We demand so much from porn stars,” says Bree Mills, a lesbian writer and director. “Performers who have made successful careers could be mentors. Give them infrastructure. Get them an appointment with an accountant, get them health care. They get the stigma stamp on them harder than anybody. We have to take care of them.”

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jeremysurfstheweb-blog-blog · 7 years

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Leading 10 Ways To Advertise Your Photography Business

I would like to lead off by saying I do believe congratulations are in order for starting your own business. But let's not be complacent as services require undivided attention particularly if it's in its beginning stage. I'm guessing you've probably put in all your life's savings into it believing it will produce the intended returns swiftly. Getting your business out there is likely to be an exhausting task more so if you're an amateur in the sector. You have to make your business expand and fight off competition at the same time. The photography market has progressed over the years. You should utilize on every opportunity that comes along.

Below are many of the ideas I came up with, that can help you to navigate through this dicey situation and expand your business.

unique photography business ideas

Website development

In this new era, this is the new business card. Make use of the web page to upload all your photography samples and branding. Let people see the kind of service you're offering concerning quality and quantity. The site gives you a chance to woo clients by letting them review what you have to what your competitors have. Permit them to be in a position to get your contact information, your location, and pricing range.

Customer service

Make your potential customers feel valued. In whichever service you deliver, deliver more than expected. The customer will come back more than once just to be given that kind of premium service. Aim to not merely go above but also beyond. Scout your competitors and take note of what they don't offer. That's your ace to use.

Do charity

Human beings inherently love receiving rather than giving. The more you give, people remember you. Charity is a form of marketing strategy. You'll be putting your business name out there. Ask around for the neighborhood calendar and book local events. Be the photographer and pass around business cards. If people in attendance like what they see, you'll probably walk out of such an even with two or three schedulings. That's ingenious, right? I know!

Blog frequently

Uploading fresh content regularly is a method of letting search engine sponsors know you're active, so they try to let other people be aware of such actions. You ultimately have better rankings. If I visit a site and discover there are only two to three shots available, I'll keep wondering whether that's a venture you kicked off but gave up midway. But if I log in and routinely find fresh material, I'll look forward to the next post and even share the blog with my friends while vacationing.

Social media

Post updates every minute so as to increase traffic and attention. Automate your social media posts. Don't just post updates on one social media platform. Diversify! Timing is everything. Put up posts during those times folks are primarily online. Don't, however, take too much time on any social media account. You know social media can be very distracting. The other day at the workplace I was overloaded and decided to take a five-minute time out. Organically, I logged into my social media account and ended up investing hours there! But boy oh boy! That dancing goat post cracked me up!

Network locally

Partner up with other kinds of businesses that share the same likely clients. Be creative here and come up with techniques both of you can benefit from each other. If you for instance team up with a fashion store that will be a fantastic opportunity to present the kind of outfits they are supplying and your photo taking abilities.

Referrals

Like I mentioned to you before, deliver more than expected and the client will not only come back but will also recommend their family members or friends. Word of mouth is a style of advertising as it enhances your marketing strategy and works. Don't forget to offer referral perks as well.

Search Engine Optimization (SEO).

The greater the investment, the greater the gain so make higher bids such that Google puts your name top of the listings. Whenever customers search certain words it's your company that comes up top of the list. Your ranking will go up and paid traffic will raise immensely.

Get published.

Offer free services to a major media house player in the media market and ask them to incorporate you in one of their publications. This advertising method will make sure your business name is out there and your reputation will earn some points as most people trust established media houses. And let's be candid here, no media house can publish a joke, right?

Run a promo.

On the start of my photo business, I gave every fifth wedding couple complimentary photography, and this helped my business in so many ways as individuals kept sharing the news with engaged couples and many other people wishing to tie the knot at some time.

Try all these brand-new suggestions if you hope to rejuvenate your photo business. They won't cost you a dime, and the possibilities are significantly endless. Cheers to success!

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esthermeronobaro · 7 years

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The Dying Art of Light

This article was first published in the January 2014 issue of SLUG Magazine. Read it online or in print on page 33.

Over 100 years after Cinématographe was invented and used by the Lumiére brothers in France to show the first paying audience a projected film, Edward Norton looks directly into the camera as he explains the job of a projectionist in a scene from Fight Club. “Why would anyone want this shit job?” he asks as his alter-ego Tyler Durden splices pornography into family cartoons. “Because it affords them other interesting opportunities.”

Walking up the steps to the projection booths of the Salt Lake Film Society’s Broadway Theatre, I imagine what it would’ve been like, watching that scene from Fight Club when it showed in theaters in 1999, from a projection booth—like looking at a reflection, perhaps.

Lance Walker, SLFS Head Projectionist, has been working in the booth since 2001, just before the Salt Lake Film Society came into fruition to save the Tower Theatre from demise. “There really wasn’t anyone else who could come here and do it, so they trained me and the other guy who was working the concession stand at the time … They showed me really fast how to do it, and everything else I’ve had to learn on my own,” he says. Walker speaks slowly and affirmatively—he reminds me of a more subdued version of Wallace Shawn’s character in The Princess Bride—a little bored, a little cynical, and his rare smile reveals an endearing gap in his teeth behind a full beard.

Lance Walker, Head Projectionist for the Salt Lake Film Society, has survived the digital conversion, though his job has considerably changed. Photo: Russel Daniels

We walk through the hallway to the projection booths and Walker apologizes for the smell, but the overwhelming aroma of popcorn that fills the lobby below doesn’t seem to penetrate the dark upstairs. Instead, the winding hallways contain a light scent of dust among the organized clutter of boxes, tables and machines—very few people come up here, which is part of the magic.

“I like the projection booth because it’s like a dark hole that no one really wants to go into,” says Walker. “It’s loud and dark and it’s not a place for people to go.”

Tyler Durden defines the employment opportunities of a projectionist as creative mischief, but speaking with Walker—and having worked in the movie theater business myself for nearly a decade—I realize that, though most projectionists aren’t using their position to terrorize children, there’s a certain character trait needed to draw someone to the booth: those who find solace in solitude. Walker tells me he’s not much of a film fanatic, citing The Shining as a favorite, and admitting he prefers B movies he can watch and be done with in the comfort of his own home. “ … I can pause [the movie], get food or drink, go to the bathroom and never miss any of it. I can have the lights on or off. I don’t have to come into work or any of the other movie theaters, now very demanding of you knowing exactly where you want to sit. I’m not into that,” he says. “I guess I might be a control freak.”

A few days later, Scott Farley of Brewvies Cinema Pub, and I sit in a booth at Juniors discussing his own film interests: “I think I have a fairly deep knowledge of film for a pedestrian, but not for a film buff,” he says. “I would say that I am an autodidact and there were times when it was necessary for me to know film … I sort of tried to surround myself with people who were real cinema heads and try to get them to educate me, but … I am pretty absent from my own personality, and what people tell me to think, I’m pretty easily convinced of … ”

Scott Farley of Brewvies Cinema Pub boasts over three decades of experience in the projection booth. Photo: Russel Daniels

Having spent a few years’ worth of Friday nights with Farley closing up Brewvies when I worked there, I can personally attest to his above-average knowledge and understanding of film, having benefitted from a number of his recommendations—and anyone can call the Brewvies Movieline at 801-355-5500 to hear his forcibly optimistic and concise reviews for the current lineup.

Farley’s history in the booth starts in Logan, when he was attending Utah State University in 1985.

“You try to have jobs, and since you can’t make a lot of money because there isn’t a lot of money to be made unless you’re having a miserable life, you come up with jobs where your perks also fill your social needs,” he says, explaining what led him to start working at a movie theater.

“Dates were free, and I could hook up friends on any number of levels, so I had entrées of social significance greater than just my charming personality.”

Farley eventually ended up at the Tower Theatre, working under Greg Tanner before the SLFS took over, making his way to Brewvies in 1997. “I kind of left being a projectionist when I came to Brewvies,” he says, admitting that the years he’s been at the cinema pub have been more fruitful as a bartender. Though it’s true that the job is now predominantly accomplished by the bussers, they’re trained at a very surface level, making Farley’s nearly three decades of projection experience crucial when it comes to troubleshooting impending film disasters—soon to be antiquated memories.

In his 2011 documentary series, The Story of Film: An Odyssey—consequently another Farley recommendation—Irish film critic Mark Cousins describes film as “the art of light.” He says, “[Thomas] Edison and the many other manic, ideas-y inventors of cinema realized that beyond the equipment and machines, what you needed most for movies was light”—essentially making the role of the projectionist somewhat of a poetic intermediary between the art and the audience.

According to the first episode of the series, and confirmed by Walker’s extensive knowledge of traditional movie projectors, the actual machine is an amalgamation of varying components from other inventions, including the sewing machine and the vacuum, slowly tweaked by new innovations, but not as quickly evolving as one would expect compared to the technological advances surrounding it. Perhaps this is why, a year after Tyler Durden explains the basics of projector mechanics, the first digital projectors are installed and tested in a few movie theaters across the country.

SLFS's Lance Walker enjoys the more carefree, digital format of projecting films. Photo: Russel Daniels

Nearly 14 years later, the labs producing celluloid film are shutting down and movie studios big and small have finally caught up with the digital, economical and eco-friendly age, sending notices to theaters, independent and commercial, that they’ll no longer be producing 35mm prints. Instead of heavy, metal canisters of film, briefcases are arriving on theater doorsteps full of hard drives about the size of a paperback—compressed movie files. Large chain theaters, like the Megaplex at the Gateway, completed their conversion to digital a couple of years ago, but a quick search on Google reveals that independent theaters across the country are struggling to purchase the expensive new projectors in time to meet the studio deadlines—a story of its own. Salt Lake’s independent theaters have survived the changing of the guard, and at the Broadway, aside from two running 35mm projectors, the outdated machines have been pushed into even darker corners to make room for whirring blocks—looking a bit like oversized window units—topped with glowing touch screens. In one day, Walker laments, a century’s worth of invention and innovation was replaced.

“Film” is a vestigial word now.

The job of the projectionist, though, is still very much alive, however changed. “I was led to believe that the digitals would take care of themselves, which they haven’t done yet, so I still have a job,” says Walker. “They never implied that I would be fired, but that I would have less to do. It’s all the same amount of work—it’s just different work.” Walker is now part DJ, part IT tech. His day begins by uploading or “ingesting” the movie into the digital projector, inserting special keys sent via email to decode the encrypted information, and then, essentially making a playlist that includes a schedule of showings, trailers, credits, etc. “When it was all 35mm, you would come in and turn on the power, thread up the movies, and you were ready to go,” says Walker. “Now, you have to make sure the machines are actually networked, and sometimes you have to restart them several times to make sure that they’re connecting. So it just takes a lot more time to get the day started, but other than that, you just put in the schedule and it goes. Then someone complains about it—the cleaning lights have been left on—and you’re like, ‘That’s not my deal—the machine left the cleaning lights on.’ When automation is going, it just makes people think it’s taken care of—‘I don’t have to worry about it.’ Digital is a fickle thing.”

At Brewvies, the two back-to-back 35mm projectors have not been converted as of writing this article, though they’ll be switched out soon, but Farley sees the change as a positive one. “The idea of not having to use resources which are largely slandered, and ship items across the country that burn carbon—it’s going to be a great efficiency and a great good in a deep ecological sense to not have film,” he says. “The projection will always be significantly improved, because it’s really easy to flub a film and ruin it, and digital looks good now.” Walker agrees, saying, “I really think that whoever did the digitals went around and figured out all of the awful things that happen, and they did a really good job in putting their thing together.”

Brewvies' Scott Farley acknowledges that going digital will make film projection a bit more environmentally friendly. Photo: Russel Daniels

There’s no romanticizing 35mm film when you’re the one spending a whole night in the booth, putting together two miles of film after dropping a print—which Farley admits to having suffered on a couple of occasions in his early days as a projectionist. “That will never happen anymore—I will never have to look at a projector and think, ‘How do I fix this?” he says, pausing with what I read as a hint of poignance.

For myself, threading the film through the projector was a meditative respite from the rush of working as a barback. It was detail-oriented, mechanical work that satiated a compulsive urge. It was a small piece of art that I mitigated to an audience through a machine whose parts contain the genealogy of industrious and romantic ideas. The digital conversion has changed the mechanics of cinema, evolved the projectionist from a torchbearer waiting in the shadows to a button pusher glowing in the dark, but no one’s really crying about it. “It is, after all, just an aesthetic end you’re searching for,” says Farley. “There’s no quantity of truth you’re trying to get out of it because it’s a lie anyway—you’re just trying to get a really great lie.”

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