#how could I do this/??? how did I succeed??? how why where did these 3200+ words come from?? I am so nervous and I want to hide forever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaus-quietis · 2 years

Text

They are (BSD Fyodor x reader)

More precisely, Philosopher!Fyodor x Translator!Reader for @chuuyasboots beautiful BSD event, Renewing the Renaissance. Check out the full list of the event’s fics here!

Genre: I can’t believe it myself, but it’s fluff. Completely SFW.

Night fell into dawn’s embrace, in vivid red and purple play. Steady steps were on their way, up a hill covered in dew. Each droplet rejoiced in a frail man’s gaze, one that was trained to inspect even the simplest of things, the most mundane, and use them as steps on a ladder to the heavens. Like so many times before, such close inspection of nature was an elating activity for the philosopher approaching Y/N’s house on the hill. Each transparent drop of cold fresh water on wood and flowers and fallen leaves pointed his mind towards the universal ideas that weaved this world together: the same ones that also weaved them, the two, together. At the idea of the grand Author who made him and Y/N meet, the now hurrying philosopher only smirked, feeling he was all too familiar with Him, the object of his research for so many Parisian years. But Fyodor brushed this thought aside, focusing on the upward road he knew so well, the one that each season, again and again, guided him through Tuscany to –

“Columba mea.”

Subtly, silently, the philosopher entered Y/N’s house, only his greeting – recalling the Song of Songs [1] – letting their hard-working lover know he arrived. Through the smell of oak wood, the light reflected on parchment, the rustling of dried flowers, the silence of black ink, Y/N’s voice responded, completing him as always:

“Dilectus meus.”

The philosopher approached their writing desk, hiding the precious things he carried not only under his thick black cloak, but also inside his white robe. Admiring all the manuscripts lying open around Y/N, he deduced they were in the middle of translating another work of Greek origin, comparing all the copies they could find, analyzing all their unique variations in words and writing, everything in search for the original intended meaning. Y/N did not even lift their eyes soaked in concepts to meet their visitor’s unperturbed ones, hiding his eagerness perfectly behind their burning amethyst colour. Still, Y/N could not help but spot his unusual attire.

“Such blasphemy. A Cistercian disguised as a Dominican? But why?” Y/N laughed and wondered what his schemes were the night before.

“Oh, I would never… I side with the seculars.” [2]

“Surely you do. You side with your own self –”

“– and I side with you.”

Y/N stopped their work for a while, knowing what came next, and welcoming the rite with a smile. At first, they felt their lover’s palm embracing one side of their head in caress. The other side soon followed to know his kiss, lingering as if on the very mind he cherished so. As Y/N let their head gradually fall towards him, their smile widened as they made a mental bet right there and then. What followed did not even disturb the suavity of the moment, it only proved Y/N right on their bet:

“You misspelled cruoris on the left column, fourth row.” [3]

Parting with the warmth of his chest Y/N sunk into, the copyist sighed, moving the sharp knife they were holding from one hand into the other, switching places with their quill pen. They slowly scraped a bit of the ink away from the parchment and changed the abbreviated form of the noun. Y/N fixed the mistake, grateful that their annoyingly perceptive “partner-in-crime” spotted the minuscule “butchered” word on time. At last, they lifted their tired eyes to meet his, desiring to gift him sincerity. “I am proud to have you” was the message their gaze carried, but as quick as it reached the philosopher’s mind – and oh, how quickly he was catching on all the time –, Y/N almost teasingly dropped their adoring look and changed the subject.

“So what did you bring me this time?”, Y/N rubbed their hands in child-like excitement as their smiling visitor put five or six thick manuscripts on the desk. Y/N could not tell just yet, but their whole soul radiated.

“I brought exactly what you asked from me…”

The young man lowered both his upper body and his tone, a speck of mischievousness glinting in his eyes: “…begged, even, on each night of our honey-sweet August, when we–”

“DON’T YOU FEAR THE LORD” Y/N tried to eat their shout, as if not to disturb the new books that the philosopher brought them. To hide the insane enjoyment Y/N was indulging in this very moment, the translator tried to fit it all under a mask of pure-heartedness, pretending to focus only on the manuscripts. Three of them had sophisticated binding and parchment pages Y/N did not yet dare to touch, while the rest looked like combined ones, mixing paper and parchment. That alone spoke so much to Y/N: the compiler probably valued the contents so much that they chose to collect copies and excerpts of all possible kinds, without wasting anything. The collector, Y/N continued to muse, was surely responding to the need to preserve the past, a lost tradition, or a neglected author’s works. Viscerally: Y/N resonated with this imaginary compiler viscerally, and now that this thought process was running around in their mind, they could barely control their trembling lip from revealing a bright grin. Yet Y/N stayed silent and still, expecting an answer from their dear guest as soon as they locked eyes with him again. The audacious philosopher inhaled slowly, preparing his voice for a dead-serious tone, and despite Y/N’s likewise dead-serious stare, he dared to continue:

“Y/N. You asked for more.

So I offer you more”

His next smirk widened, shone on his lips, as if it has been eagerly awaiting the blade that suddenly hovered above his Adam’s apple. It all happened in the blink of an eye, but this expression has no meaning here: the philosopher did not want to lose such thrilling, fleeting sight by blinking. He knew Y/N’s knife would show its true dance as soon as the provocation reached not their ears, but their heart. The man just smiled and swallowed slowly in delight.

“You’d want to keep that for your quills~”

At his mocking suggestion, served with that look, an expressionless Y/N put their knife on the writing desk. Be it for vanity or play, they could not allow their face to show what they were really feeling: their heart was racing, and the adrenaline made them reach heights of happiness each time such tension appeared between the two. But there was more: Y/N saw their elated state’s reflection, and not in the clean blade they put away, no. They saw it in the philosopher’s own eyes: the thrill, the rush, the excitement behind the composed mask, if only one dared to pierce through those dark pupils.

“Another find from the nameless philosopher. You continue to plague my existence”, Y/N mocked the man who was still standing next to their desk, not too distant, not too close now.

“Nameless, oh, please… It is you who refused to call me Theodoros for a reason unknown to me.”

“The reason was, and still is, it sounds like another one of your fake names and I can’t have that.”

“Don’t be so harsh on my pseudonyms, my soul, I have to use them for each–”

“Yeah, yeah, each “figure of authority” you flatter and profit of, as far as the sea spreads and swirls”, Y/N interrupted him gesticulating defeat, for it was a backstory they knew by heart already. The philosopher did not even mind; instead, he gently took the heavy manuscripts and closed the distance between them and his favourite translator.

“Speaking of seas – and to offer you a hint as of the tomes’ origins –, you would not have believed your eyes, Y/N, the immense number of people gathering from East and West, now in Florence! It is such a pity you refused my invitation, we could have met so many honourable people, we could have shared absurd abundant meals with them all and then–” [4]

“Aha, so that is how it went. That was at the start of this year, correct? Whose illuminated mind decided to part forever with these – I assume – rarest of books?” Y/N quickly jumped to correct conclusions, hearing the philosopher chuckle as a first response.

“Oh, but you see, he is under the impression I will bring them back in two months. That is perfectly acceptable. Many things can change in two months,” he explained, forcing himself to hide a wicked grin that was creeping on his lips at the thought of his “updated” plans. “Frankly, I was not entirely convinced by his lectures, but the Florentines are at his feet, my love, at his feet… or… at least the vast majority. One night, at a banquet, after several negotiations and agreements that would greatly please the Greeks – imagine, an entire future Platonic accademia! impressive plans these Florentines have –, I reached a deal with the Greek… “theologian” too. A debatable status, if you see through his words, but that does not change the value of what he brought from his Greek land [5]. You can see part of the result before your–”, he tilted his head in endearment both mocking and true, “–spellbinding eyes, dear partner.”

Needless to say, Y/N was so used to this. After they met on the hills six, maybe seven years ago, as he was travelling the land, the nameless philosopher would visit Y/N’s little house near the small forest again and again to chit-chat. Although both of them were rather rigid and playing mysterious at first, the two realized soon enough that they shared the most pleasant discussions in each other’s company. They started to value eachother more and more in their self-isolation from the rumours of society: one as a wandering philosopher in exile, the other as a book-producing hermit. Y/N came to know he is a magister theologiae of the University of Paris, but his birth origin remained unknown. His sharp yet melancholic features always struck Y/N as foreign, his peculiar accent charmed them – on the rare occasions when he did not hide it on purpose –, but nothing captured their interest more than his mind, endless like meanings lost in translation. His own excitement bloomed and he truly opened up when Y/N revealed to them they were not only a copyist, but also a translator, dedicating their life to collecting and preserving Greek manuscripts, especially anything that could link them back to what Augustine still followed so closely in his early writings, and to what was at the roots of even that [6]. Y/N would collect, copy and translate everything into Latin and let the resulting manuscripts spread all around the West, its libraries still lacking too many Greek works in their opinion. Y/N was sick of Aristotle, they were sick of his commentators, they felt the search for Plato should be prolonged and deepened, but who would listen? Only a few villagers, only a few remarkably cultured monks and nuns, even a few royals, but overall only a few souls who kept donating parchment to Y/N. This way, they could continue to produce such compilations of translations. And so, for six, maybe seven years already, Y/N sunk into this kind of work, and with infinite pleasure: it was simply too perfect.

Still, it took a few more years for Y/N to realize who exactly God’s gift to them was. Admiring such passionate pursuit of a higher goal, the philosopher decided to help Y/N on their mission. It was only natural, he had the… let’s say “means” and “ways” to find more, to “obtain” more manuscripts that would please Y/N, as he could enter anyone’s heart and soul (not to even mention pockets) with his training and talent of speech. He had nothing to lose by entertaining Y/N – in fact, he enjoyed their interactions and exchanges each time they met, even if only few times a year, when new findings and new thoughts had him running up that hill.

“More…” Y/N whispered sweetly, already a victim to nostalgia, slowly opening and inspecting each book. It was summer again now, but the last August still lingered in both of their minds: somehow, he was able to stay with Y/N for the entire month – a most predictable one, as there was nothing that surprised the two old partners. Everything was predictable: each tease and each wordplay, each mental exercise, each gesture, each day, each night, and every mark. For their minds, everything was predictable in the most entertaining way, whereas outside their bond predictability equalled boredom. They both accepted it all, and so they stayed.

“So these are…” Y/N shook the nostalgia away, speaking in a cold tone, so obviously fake it was adorable.

“Some excerpts of Platonic dialogues. Some copied in their entirety too. Surely some things by Plotinus and, if luck’s on your side, Porphyry too, I would assume. My apologies that I did not have time to check, I arrived in Florence to pick them up a couple of days ago. You shall see, only two of them have somewhat of an index, you know how it is. I think I saw the Enneads, too?”

“The what?” Y/N showed surprise, so obviously fake, but only to themselves. Right?

“The Enneads. Plotinus. You will adore this” the philosopher chose to give only a simple answer, so that Y/N could have the pleasure of discovery all for themselves. Hiding a smile, he was already imagining the moment Y/N will dive into the thickest manuscript the philosopher brought them – how Y/N will devour its contents and lose themselves in their words.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Y/N sunk in thought for a moment, deciding whether to show deepest gratitude or deepest suspicion to their precious friend and lover. Of course, they chose a sweeter side of the latter.

“Love… Then… I assume these should have gone directly to Ficino [7] !! Heavens!! How angelic of you to offer to transport them to him!” Y/N burst into wild laughter, “This is AMAZING, and he will never know!! Ahahahahah!”

And so Y/N jumped into the arms of the philosopher disguised as a Cistercian disguised as a Dominican. They embraced him strongly enough to feel the contour of his shoulders under his two hoods, while he took advantage of the momentum to spin them around in a few full circles. Repositioning themselves, Y/N’s hands around his neck, they exchanged a confident calm look, completely satisfied with the situation. Yet Y/N’s chest got tense suddenly, succumbing to a suffocating feeling they by now struggled to hide. Y/N so desperately wanted to succumb to their shared bliss this one time – no, not like in August, but finally in the truest way they knew they still had to reach.

And Y/N hoped to reach it, because Y/N could no longer bear it. They wanted to escape.

“My soul, allow me to guess what drowns your heart in pain now. Although, why would there be anything like that…

…when we exist in the best possible world God could have created.”

The philosopher said that with a genuine smile, knowing exactly what could come next, likewise in repressed hope that Y/N would respond exactly the way he imagined they would.

Because, if they did, then…

“…

…

…Pascal isn’t born yet, Fyodor Dostoyevsky.”

Finally! FINALLY! Ah, how liberating it was to answer Fyodor’s call now! Oh, how liberating for both of them! They could finally drop their façade officially, they could finally erase the thought of everything they’ve built between them being one gigantic lie, they could finally, finally stop…

… h u n t i n g e a c h o t h e r d o w n .

This was the last test they threw at each other and Y/N knew: not answering Fyodor’s call now would have meant Y/N denying – …

…

“… – all those years they spent together in the novel. Look at us, Poe-kun. We’re both in our mid-30s. Carrying your novel on my person each day? Yeah, I hate to admit this, but there isn’t a second I’m not nervous. And it gets worse each month… What is even happening? Will they ever come out?” The voice of the master detective sounded dull, yet accumulated nervousness was imprinted on every consonant. He spoke almost absent-mindedly, as if he waited far too long for the conclusion of his plan. It worked, it did: Y/N and Fyodor were both trapped inside Poe’s Renaissance-themed novel. But Y/N was supposed to escape around five years ago – exit the novel carrying Fyodor’s corpse, his blood on their knife, and they could not fail. Ranpo designed the plan around the best assassin the Agency and the Port Mafia could hire, in a joint effort to catch the Rat. Ranpo even adapted to Fyodor’s strategies, after all, and Dazai supervised the entire thing, until he simply disappeared one day. Nobody knew why, they could only hope he would return to them again alive, unharmed, victorious…

Poe brought two cups of hot chocolate and gently put them on Ranpo’s desk. “I don’t quite know how to describe this, but I got a feeling the time will come soon”, he said, blowing the steam in the direction of his beloved raccoon, which sniffed around and licked its nose, raising its sleepy eyes from under Ranpo’s palm. “You said that 16 days ago, what can I do with this?”, the detective whined, knowing that if he took the hot chocolate and sipped from it now, it would surely burn both his lips and his tongue, so that they could not feel any taste for a good while. Somehow, as Ranpo was processing this, the fluffy raccoon handed him Y/N’s confidential contact card that Ranpo lost under his empty bags of sweets, years and years ago. The detective never saw such a determined look of steel imprinted on any other human face and his first impression of Y/N never left him. How could an assassin of such high intellect take so much time, waste time inside Poe’s novel? Refusing to say anything else, as if fearing a bad omen, Ranpo simply exhaled stating the obvious: “There it was…”

…

…There it was! Yet another mark of a voluntary player of Fyodor’s own games. Before him – he was sure of it now – stood a person willing to run the same race even in the most insignificant ways, such as spotting an anachronistic philosophical reference in what was supposed to be the 15th-century Tuscany. His suspicions came true, as well as Y/N’s. They both knew what they were now, and all doubts vanished.

Y/N’s arms still around Fyodor’s neck, the two now even closer in a tightened adamant hold, the translator waited calmly for the philosopher’s verbal reply, for his wonderstruck eyes already burned with delight and fever.

“I’d say mission accomplished, wouldn’t you too, my soul?” Fyodor extended his left hand towards Y/N, who took it in the most natural manner. “We entered this simplistic novel as each other’s hunter. Let us walk out as partners, as equals reborn.”

Fyodor’s assigned assassin never expected a change of purpose, and truly even less a change of heart, but it was the Agency’s and Mafia’s mistake to toy with those they failed to understand. The truth has always been there, predictable and in plain sight, and now Y/N could grasp it, entwine their fingers with it, with their lover’s. A blinding light began engulfing the two, a sign the novel was rejecting them. The translator gave the philosopher a smileless, determined look:

“Correct. You are no longer my target.

…They are.”

– – –

Endnotes:

[1] "Columba mea", Latin for "my dove", but literally "my pigeon" as a species; "dilectus meus", Latin for "my beloved (m)". [2] Referring to monks belonging to the Cistercian Order and Dominican Order respectively, as well as to the seculars, religiously-neutral persons (or, in this case, intellectuals), not consecrated to a monastic order, nor affiliated with a religious institution, e.g. the Church. [3] "Cruoris", Latin noun (genitive case, singular) meaning "of the blood <freshly spilled or flowing from a wound>" or, by extension, figuratively, "of the murder / assassination". [4] Referring to the ecumenical Council of Ferrara-Florence (1438-1445), more precisely to when the council was moved to Florence in January 1439. Large numbers of representatives of the Latin Church and the Greek Church gathered to discuss doctrinal differences in hopes of reuniting the two Christian Churches, officially separated since the 1054 Great Schism, also known as the East-West Schism. [5] Referring to Georgios Gemistos Plethon (c. 1355/60-1452/54), Greek scholar who reintroduced the Western/Latin public to the ideas and works of Plato during the 1438-1439 beforementioned Council of Florence. It is said he influenced Cosimo de' Medici to found the Platonic Academy of Florence. Despite having translated and assimilated Aristotelian works already (12th-13th century, thanks to Arabic translations and commentaries), Western Europe (Latin-speaking Europe) did not know the majority of Plato's works and many important Neoplatonic works, as it severely lacked translations and overall access to Greek manuscripts. This Council was a major event that led to communication between the Latin and the Greek cultures, exchanging knowledge and manuscripts, and Plethon was a key-figure in this. Ironically perhaps, the Churches themselves remained separated. [6] Referring to Neoplatonism and Platonism respectively. [7] Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499), Italian humanist philosopher and theologian. He was the first translator of Plato's complete works, from Greek to Latin, immensely contributing to the revival of Platonic philosophy in Latin (Western) Europe. Among many other translation projects and his own works, Ficino also translated works of Neoplatonic philosophers, such as Plotinus, Porphyry, and Iamblichus. He was the central figure and leader of the Platonic Academy of Florence.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fyodor #bsd fyodor x reader #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky #bsd fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fanfiction #renewing the renaissance #bsd x reader #bsd event #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #I CAN'T BELIEVE I AM ONCE AGAIN CONTRINBUTING TO THE DOSTOYEVSKY X READER TAG #how could I do this/??? how did I succeed??? how why where did these 3200+ words come from?? I am so nervous and I want to hide forever #I am no writer but I hope this will entertain a few fellow fans of this fine character a normal amount kfjsdnfksjd #how?? me?? writing Fedya fluff?? how on Earth #anyway ngl I put lots of love into this idea for the event and I am glad I managed to post it #also you're NOT getting stereotypical philosopher tropes with this one because I serve them like actual people #not like idealized discount versions of Sokrates fjksngjs trust me it's my job #ok now excuse while I go hide in a cave of course #one day I'll post my Fedya essay too to bring canon evidence that he has indeed a playful mind and can tease others but until then.. enjoy

103 notes · View notes

therenlover · 3 years

Text

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

486 notes · View notes

hoodedwing · 3 years

Text

Loyalty Killed Me

Summary: The Joker could finally do what he wanted to do, traumatize Nightwing

Characters: Nightwing. Harley Quinn. Joker. Mentions of Red Hood

Warnings: Just really sick ways of stitching people up. Blood. Depressive. Major character/s death mentions. Batman. Doctor Leslie Thompkins

Additional Notes: I know Joker cannot traumatize Grayson canon-wise? Please correct me if I’m wrong.

Word Count: 2,242 words

***

Time doesn't stop.

Time knows, in its hands. It plays around with the seconds. These seconds matter, someone dying, someone on the communicator whispering, ____ come get me. come get me, I can't go back.

Time doesn't freeze. Time does not have a cloak drapes around it in a timeless manner. Time does not walk in a regal manner and stroke your gaping wounds to cauterize them. Apply pressure because really, when did Time wait for you to stop the damned arterial spray? Have you seen first hand how much blood can spew, almost like a fountain from that serrated dagger?

Time has caught up with Dick Grayson, the Wonder Boy. The Nightwing Blüdhaven didn't deserve. The loving boyfriend/husband of Barbara Gordon. The first son of Bruce Wayne, Batman.

Batman. He doesn't know who's Batman. Not anymore.

3200..6400..12800..

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Remember, inhale slowly, inflate lungs. Let it circulate through. Let. Let it work.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters.

Pain.

Pain is relative. If you fuck with pain long enough, it won't fuck back with you. Pain spreads through him and he inhales deep, bigger breaths. Trying to drown out the searing ache. He succeeds, deceives his brain.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He knows how to lie, how to smile widely at the Blüdhaven precinct when shit goes down or still tell a joke or two when Damian is there.

Dick Grayson is such a liar.

He's a good man. Honest to goodness. He's fooled himself into thinking his left leg didn't feel on fire, he's successfully managed to stop gasping against the rattle of his chest, a rub or two might be the cause. Who knows?

BOY WONDER! SAD YOUR DEAREST BATMAN HASN'T COME TO SAVE YOU YET? WHY LOOK AT THAT.

Mistah J checks his watch and smiles, his crooked smile stares back at Richard.

Dick only looks away as the Joker's cold fingers run his slimy, skinny fingers along his body. He used to shiver under his touch in a bad way, he would gulp and squeeze his eyes shut, hunting for memories to dive into.

When he got Zitka. When his mother named him her Robin. When he went on patrol for the first time with the all mighty Batman. When he first met Jason. Then Tim. Then Damian. Then the nights they spent healing wounds, fighting together or just sleeping or Netflix.

Dick doesn't move, doesn't say a word. He doesn't even let out a humourless laugh or a quip. Dick clings onto a hope.

Batman. Come get me.

BOY WONDER IS STILL LIVING. WHY, THAT'S A JOY. COME OUT THERE LITTLE BLUE BIRD. YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STAY IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS? WHEN YOU WAKE UP. THAT LEG WILL HURT. YOUR BLOOD WILL SPILL AGAIN ON THAT DARNED LITTLE CREST.

He doesn't care. The glorious speech does not make him flinch. He looks at the window, one thought crosses his cloudy vision.

Bruce (Dad), come get me.

LET'S HAVE SOME MORE FUN, SHALL WE. EVEN JAYBIRD PLAYED THIS GAME TOO. COME ON, HE HAD FUN. LET'S PLAY BLUE BIRD. BLUE JAY. HMM. I LIKE THAT.

Playtime.

Its always target practice. He would lie there and watch Harley swing her mallet here and there, sometimes too close to Dick and she would talk to him, so sweetly.

Aww, you wanna play too? Let's play together, shall we?

His face will clench up, his head will scream and suddenly everything is loud as Harley fires guns at targets and maybe shoot some arrows at Dick.

On lucky days, he's used as her gymnast prop.

I want to fly again. Batman I'm falling, please I'd like to fly again. My wings are clipping and I will rip. -

He falls asleep.

You can't call it sleeping. Dozing in and out of consciousness, he was neither awake or sleeping. A grey haze flittered across his vision. No sign of clarity. He still heard the rattle of his breath, the fire in his leg. The now warm abdomen.

He feels someone at his leg.

Harley Quinn was there, a sly smile as he feels a needle go in and out.

In and out. In and out.

In and out, in and out. You need to breathe Dick. In and out. In and out.

When he hears the door shut and a ricocheting silence, he peeks at his leg.

A sick suturing of his leg stabs with dental floss, a handiwork Harley was sure to boast later on. He doesn't care if it gets infected. What's the big deal? Batman will take care of it.

He turns over on his side to his communicator lay. The Nightwing emblem was shattered beyond measure. No matter, I can get a new one. The communication mattered.

He presses the distress signal again, again. Again. Bruce better get that flashing orange light and he should feel his bipolar touch in no time.

He tries to talk, voice hoarse from decreased usage and a rough sandpaper-like quality stuck to it.

"H..hello? Bruce. Dad. Please get me. I'm.. I'm waiting. Please."

He turns back in his side, curled up like an invited animal.

The rain pours, shadows keep coming in and out but none belong to his dad.

The boy asks the moon if Batman had lost his way. Asked if the moon could shine the light brighter at him so Dad can find him faster. He'll be okay, he'll be okay. Bruce might be lost, after all. There's a lot of streets and time isn't on anyone's side.

Two weeks go by.

Dick still finds himself bound by the ties and definitely no sign of the caped crusader.

Batman is surely coming.

That thought fades slowly, over the weeks. He's gotten more used to the Joker and the crowbar.

Is this how Jason felt, when he was in Hell?

Dick cannot remember. Dick only knows how the sound of metal and bones work, how the bullet will hit skin, pierce it through with frightening velocity and dull ache afterwards. The pool of blood will remind him that yes, I was shot.

A sick game of Russian Roulette. Instead of one bullet, there's multiple. A .44 magnum shouldn't hurt anymore. The revolver keeps spinning in his mind where acrobats should be. Where's Bruce. Where's dad. Am I forgotten?

Dick tried to remember how to breathe. Is it that hard? Just pulling in oxygen and letting the respiration mechanism do its work?

Distract thine self.

He tries to remember. Tries. He's trying. Nightwing has to do this. You need to at least remember your name. Your mother, your father. Dick. Dick.

Richard. That's your name. Your mother was beautiful but I don't know what her hair colour is, sometimes it's blonde or chestnut and your father was handsome. You are a Grayson. You have brothers and sisters. Are they Jason? Tim? Da- I don't remember, I don't remember the tiny one. Is he even real? Your sisters too. Stephanie, Stephanie. I have one more, the sneaky one. She's fast but I don't know her name. I'd like to know her well too. Pity I. I don't know her name. I hope she knows my name. That way I can hear her voice and maybe figure out who is the charming one. I know she does ballet. I know she made brownies once with.. Who? I don't remember his name. The old man with cheery wrinkles and deep eyes. I don't know who he is too. Oh. Oh oh. Dick.

[DANGEROUS TO FALL ASLEEP, RICHARD JOHN 'DICK' GRAYSON. EYES. OPEN. EYES. OPEN. BREATHE. (MY LUNGS DON'T WORK)]

I'm begging someone, please. It doesn't have to be Bruce. Get the ballet girl to help me please, she fast and maybe I can ask her name while she gets me out of here.

Bruce never gives up.

You know that too, do you? He's spent 3 weeks finding his son. His beloved child.

Do you ever think how much Bruce's heart breaks over and over everyday?

"ALFRED?! CAN YOU GET JASON NOW, NOW, NOW?! I FIGURED HIS COORDINATES."

Bruce flips from the Batcomputer and grabs everything. A blind haste, he's never dressed so fast. His son. Oh my god, his son.

Jason is down there getting the Batmobile to rev up and they speed.

They speed.

Are they fast?

I guess. If you call 290 in 85 fast.

They run, Jason dashing first and his breath catches in his throat. A cold draught erupts inside of him. He snarls, Bruce turns as he digs through the alleyways. He finds what he knows lurks.

"The sick fucker is going to end Dick in the same fucking warehouse he ended me in. That big bitch.

Bruce puts one hand on his shoulder and squeezes. No time to panic, Dick is the one. is the unsaid message as Jason crashes through the window.

And even him, Red Hood. The one who sees and commits murder everyday, stops and hot anger sears through him.

Dick lies, barely 15 feet away, bound up and covered in his own blood, the ripped Nightwing suit from his recon mission. Bruce picks him up while Jason gladly punched (and secretly plugged a bullet) the fuck out of Mistah J and Harley.

They lie on unconscious, Jason evaluates the scenes, trying to suppress his screams at what they've done to Grayson.

Bruce picks up Dick like he's glass, he hurries to the Batmobile with Jason telling to prepare the Medbay.

"The Medbay.. I.. I don't think. Leslie. Leslie can."

Is all Bruce says and Jason revs up, driving the Batmobile way beyond the legal limit. Bruce doesn't give a flying banana about it. He'll pay the fine later.

Bruce looks down at his son, hoping he hasn't fallen asleep yet. Finally, finally Dick is in the arms of the crusader. Half his domino mask is ripped and Bruce tries to not break at the baby blues staring without any light-hearted gaze.

His heart still beats (A reminder he's alive and could've been more alive. Bruce failed him)

"LESLIE. DR THOMPKINS!"

Jason screeches across and marching in, earning angry stares from the other patients but it turns into gasps and horror when they see Batman carry a limp Nightwing barely clad in spandex anymore. Everyone bows out, knowing they were priority.

Something inside Dick broke.

He doesn't know what it is.

He'll live with it.

"Bruce, he's fallen into a coma."

Leslie says, solemn. Angry tears form in Jason's eye and he was about to fight Bruce, give him the tirade. Compare him to Nightwing.

The unspoken message rings loudly in Bruce's mind. He doesn't need Jason to say it.

You failed him too.

Jason is seething, anger. Sadness a d everything is violating him from inside.

If you were a minute later, he would've died. We would've been carrying his body to the grave. The Joker would still live. You see the problem? DO YOU NOT SEE THE FUCKING PROBLEM?

Bruce sits beside Dick, his pulse like a fluttering butterfly. He grasps his hand in Duck's fragile one and prays.

Prays that he wakes up.

Dick is on a life support machine now.

I guess the ventilator couldn't keep him up. All good boys do die. If not, maybe a part of them broke.

Dick is no exception.

Alfred squeezes Bruce's hand. Jason sits so quietly beside him alongside the rest of the family.

Its April 27th. Jason was taken this day.

They don't say a word, neither does Red Hood, he just wants the baby blue eyes to open again.

He cries.

Five months have gone by and he stirs slowly.

He's barely moving and Jason shoots up and looks, squeezes Dick's hand again.

Baby blues meet emerald green.

Jason dashes for Leslie. She comes and shoos everyone out.

Jason is fucking glad. Dick is alive.

Bruce is disappointed.

He cannot bring himself to meet Dick who's currently in the ward under observation. He's failed Dick. He knows it.

He enters, heavy hearted. Dick is smiling at everyone but Bruce can see it, the hard lines. The sunshine doesn't reach the baby blues. He thinks they've turned into aquamarine, a shade tad too dark. I guess, that's what trauma does to people.

Dick smiles at Bruce, he feels the tension and Dick pats the chair beside him where Jason was sleeping. Bruce softly sits, he has no heart to wake Jason up.

Dick is alive. Dick is alive.

Bruce places one hand on Grayson's one, it feels much more warmer and his pulse is beating normally.

And he breaks.

He cries, tears steaming down his cheeks. An ugly sound escapes his throat. Bruce gasps in air and exhales shakily. Dick watches, silent.

Is this how you felt when I was in Hell?

Dick doesn't touch Bruce, doesn't say its okay and I'm alive. He stares dead into Bruce.

I cannot forgive.

Dick sits quietly, he doesn't have to say it. Loyalty does kill you in the end if you step on all the wrong pieces of glass.

That's when you find yourself falling from the trapeze line, you find yourself swirling again in the memories you wish you could lock.

Loyalty in the end, is your demise.

39 notes · View notes

et-lesailes · 5 years

Text

laundry room

pairing: ex!tony x reader

word count: 3200

summary: you and tony are fresh out of a very long and serious relationship, only having broken up about a week prior. thankfully you are on good terms and even friends, but you are currently living in his house while you are working on packing up your things to eventually move out. you didn’t think it would be too hard for both of you to be on your best behavior, but clearly you were wrong.

themes: smuuuuuuuuuut. daddy kink

taglist: @sebabestianstan101, @pining-and-tired, @gogomez-509, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31, @melannie77, @gigistorm, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @isthiskaii, @taylorswiftloverforever13, @hulksmashin-bannerpackin

note: yeah idk i’ve had muse for this for a while and so here it is, my first tony x reader fic!! hopefully i can slowly work my way through the rest of the avengers (most likely just the male ones bc i’m not really good at writing girl on girl stuff tbh) ! also sorry this hasn’t been proofread i’m too tired and need to go to bed lmao. pls let me know what you think thoughh

It was awkward living in the home of your ex-boyfriend, but not as much as it could have been considering Tony Stark’s home was huge. You practically had your own separate wing for God’s sake, and despite now being exes after nearly three years of dating, the two of you were actually on quite good terms.

The break up had been mutual. It had gradually been getting more and more painfully obvious that the only thing keeping the two of you together was wonderful, rough, and heated sex. There were no more long, late night conversations in his lab, no more fun and social outings to all types of conventions and galas and events he helped fund, no more date nights at your favorite burger joint. Even the hugs and kisses felt bland and forced. It was sad and scary to suddenly be single again after having been convinced for so long that Tony was going to be your husband one day, but you knew you would be alright. The two of you had shared a surprisingly mature conversation about the matter; he was just as heartbroken as you were, but he told you that he would always love you, even if it may be in a different way than before.

For the most part, you did not see much of each other despite staying in the same home. He was often working, as were you, and during the nights he would be slaving away in his lab on God knows what. The only reason you were still there was because you were still in the process of moving your things out; you would stay at your friend’s place until you found an apartment of your own. Tony had offered to buy you a place himself, but you had assured him it was alright. The two of you may have been friends, but you did not want to have to rely on him.

You had stepped out of the shower, wrapping your towel around your figure when you realized you had completely forgotten to get your laundry. Stepping out into your bedroom, you practically ransacked the dresser looking for something, but to no avail. A lot of your clothes were already packed up in boxes and ready to be moved. With a light sigh, you headed for the laundry room, holding your towel around yourself. It was around 9 PM, meaning Tony would most likely still be at work anyways. Not that this was anything he hadn’t seen before.

Too lazy to retrieve all of your clothes, you simply pulled out what you needed. A bra, thong, tank, and sleep shorts-- nothing fancy, and besides, most if not all of this would probably come off by the time you were ready to sleep, anyways. It was then you heard Tony’s voice from the hallway, his footsteps approaching the laundry room probably having seen the light turned on. “Hey, Y/N, I’m glad I caught ya-- I wanted to talk to you abo-” he began, then instantly paused when he stepped inside the room, brown eyes now focused on your towel wearing frame. “Oh. Well, hello to you too.” He muttered, and you bit your lip, laughing awkwardly. “Sorry, forgot my clothes. Here, I’ll just go change and then--” you started to say, but as you were trying to move around him you dropped one of the articles of clothing in your hand; looking down, you scoffed silently in disbelief. Of course it happened to be the thong. “I’m just gonna….” you trailed off and laughed again but leaned over to pick it up, trying to hold your towel up despite your hand holding onto your clothes. For once, Tony was completely silent, and this was slightly concerning. When you straightened up, however, it was easy to see why. You knew that look in his eyes, and you knew why it was there. He really was not the type to get so worked up or turned on easily, but you supposed it had been difficult for both of you going from fucking every single day to having to take matters into your own hands (literally). You cleared your throat once you straightened back up.

“Did you need anything?” you asked, trying to make this strange experience as casual as possible. He kept his eyes on you, now taking a step closer as his teeth pulled on his lower lip. “No, but fuck, now I do…” You knew this expression even better than the first, and it made you slightly press your thighs together underneath the towel. “What is it…?” you asked, though your voice was soft and distracted, your hand clenching your clothes tighter. He was now standing directly in front of you, barely leaving any space between your bodies as he looked down at you with lust filled, desperate eyes. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, don’t act like you don’t know how much I want you right now…”

His words sent shivers down your spine. You knew where this was headed, and your more rational side could try to interfere all it wanted, but you knew it would not succeed. “One time can’t hurt… right…?” you whispered, and a wide smirk crossed his lips. Before you knew it, you were being pulled into his body, his lips crashing against yours in an incredibly rough and familiar kiss. Your tight fist immediately relaxed, dropping the clothes you had originally been so determined to put on. You brought your arms around his neck and he lifted you up to sit on top of the washing machine, not breaking the kiss for even a second. “Fuck,” a growl of a curse uttered forth from his lips, and the husky tone in itself was enough to make you wet combined with the sinful way his tongue worked around yours. “It’s been too damn long…”

“We… broke up… a week ago, Tony…” you reminded him with breathless giggles in between kisses, wrapping your legs around the man’s waist tightly to keep him close to you. He smirked and bit down on your lower lip, barely tugging with his teeth. “My statement still stands,” he murmured, giving your kiss swollen lips yet another peck before running his hand up under your towel to rub your inner thigh. “I just miss this perfect body so damn much.” He paused as he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, barely wrinkling his nose as if thoughtful. “And you in general, I suppose.” He joked in typical sarcastic Tony fashion, and you laughed, teasingly playing with the hem of your towel. “I think you need to get undressed a little more,” you whispered, nodding towards his fully clothed body. “This doesn't seem very fair.” He simply smirked as he suddenly grabbed the towel, tugging it off of you with one rough movement and haphazardly tossing it aside. “Life’s not fair, sweet cheeks.” He made a point to bring his hand down to your ass to squeeze as he said this before peppering your neck in kisses and nibbles, other hand moving to grope your soft breast. You let out a moan as you arched your back towards him, whining softly as his fingers teased your sensitive nipple, his tongue tracing hot circles over your skin while his teeth left dark marks behind. You knew the others would give you shit for the hickeys if they ever saw them, but at the same time, they had probably practically been placing bets on the fact that you and Tony would most likely hook up again after breaking up.

“Fuck me,” you suddenly begged, rolling your hips and clenching your thighs together to appease the wet heat between them. “Please, Tony, I need you so fucking bad.” He groaned simply from hearing your words, pulling back to make direct eye contact as he brought his fingers up your thigh to rub against your wet folds. “How bad?” he asked innocently, and as frustrated as you were, you had known this was coming. Tony was not the type to let up teasing so easily, even if it was torture for him too. “Fuck, Tony, I’ve been... thinking about you every single night... since we broke up,” you admitted in a half whimper, only slightly distracted by his fingers teasing your entrance. “And I- I’m tired of.. using my own fingers… or the toys you bought me…”

“Now I spent good money on those toys, baby doll.” He spoke as if reprimanding you, eyebrow raised slightly. “Would you rather Daddy use them on you?” He pushed a finger inside you, pumping deeply already as he tilted his head. “Or is this enough for you? Let’s see how many times Daddy can make his little cock slut cum for him before he fucks you nice and hard, yeah?” You let out a desperate moan as you rolled your hips further, legs now relaxed on either side of him but spread slightly to give him room, one hand holding the edge of the washing machine. You loved when he became authoritative like this, even when his already arrogant air about him was increased. He used two fingers to rub against your folds slowly but roughly, applying just the perfect amount of pressure making you mewl in a needy sense of pleasure as you gazed up into his eyes. “M-more,” you begged, and his dark smirk grew, his eyes fixed on yours. “I don’t even know if you need more, to be honest,” he replied nonchalantly, moving to start rubbing your clit. “I think you’re going to come undone for me right fucking now.” You gasped as he teased your sensitive bundle of nerves, fingers moving in circular motions knowing just exactly the pace you liked it. “D-Daddy! Fuck, I’m gonna….” He chuckled lowly, using his other hand to roll your nipple between his fingers. “Already, baby girl? And to think you were greedy to ask Daddy for more.” You gasped as you released, your cheeks practically pink and your eyes round as you watched him taste you off his fingers.

“God I missed how addictive you taste.” He admitted, sighing deeply before suddenly bringing his fingers back down, rubbing again. You widened your eyes, instinctively reaching down to grab his wrist. “Wh-what are you doing?” you asked in breathy whimpers, already feeling oversensitive. He arched an eyebrow as he slowly pushed a finger inside, your hold on his wrist having no effect on him whatsoever as he began to pump slowly. “Making you come again, duh. Have a problem with that, sugar? You did ask me for more, didn’t you?” You let out a soft whine, unsure if it was out of feeling overwhelmed or pleasured, biting on your lip harshly. “Daddy…”

He suddenly grabbed your hip with his other hand, scooting you further back on the washing machine, “Lean back against the wall,” he demanded, taking the initiative to lightly press you back himself until your back was leaned against the wall, your body naturally arched towards him with the way you were positioned. He continued pumping for a few moments and you moaned louder, feeling your legs shudder. “Daddy..!” you cried out from the stimulus, and he pushed another finger inside, watching you closely and breathless from being so turned on. However, just when you were about to come…..

“You know what?” He suddenly withdrew his fingers, giving you a devious smile as he licked at them again, taking in your shocked expression and even whine of disappointment. “I need a more direct approach.” Grabbing a hold of your thighs, he spread them apart and leaned down, swiping his tongue across your heated sex. You immediately took hold of his hair, fingers entangled in the chocolate brown strands as he moved his tongue to toy with the hood of your clit, a string of moans escaping your parted lips. When he pushed his tongue inside your entrance, you remembered just why it had been so damn hard to break up with him. Even the tiniest movements had your mind hazing, your grip on his locks tightening as you felt his beard rub up against your skin. It was almost infuriating how good at this he was, and your back was arched so incredibly towards him you would probably need a chiropractor in the near future. He gripped your thighs so hard you knew there would be bruises by the morning, but that was the least of your concern. Moving one hand so that he could stimulate your clit once again, he plunged his tongue deeper inside you, taking his time to lick all around. You were sighing in content as you tilted your head back, grinding yourself against his fingers; and then he pulled back for a second, gazing up at you to take in your lust filled expression, groaning to himself before dipping his head back down. His tongue found your clit again, flicking at it with the perfect amount of force, knowing just how to play with it; he practically knew its shape by heart, and he knew just how to move it around to drive you crazy. It was when he used his lips as a suction that you knew you were reaching your limit, unsure how you had even lasted this long to begin with. “Daddy!” you moaned as you came again, watching turned on as he lapped up every single bit of your release into his greedy mouth, practically unable to catch your breath.

“Do I taste good?” you whispered innocently, and he smirked, straightening up again as he yanked you to his body, returning you back to the edge of the washing machine. “Why don’t you find out yourself.” He kissed you again with even more passion than before and you gasped against his lips, bringing your arms around his neck to keep him close while you hitched your legs up around his waist. You felt his clothed bulge press against your bare thigh and you found yourself grinding against it, whining from feeling overstimulated but unable to help but want it. “Fuck me,” you pleaded again, and this time he did not argue. He hastily unzipped his pants, kicking them off before removing his boxer briefs. Jerking your body even closer to the edge of the appliance, he moved one hand to hold the back of your neck, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t take your eyes off me, doll,” he commanded, and you immediately nodded. “Y-Yes sir.” He smirked, scoffing lowly from being so aroused just from hearing the term of authority, guiding himself to rub his tip against your already sensitive folds. Pushing himself inside, you shivered upon hearing his husky groans, moving your hands to hold his biceps as he started moving his hips. “Mmm..! You’re so…. So big….” you moaned as you rocked your own hips in sync with his, tilting your head back feeling your damp hair from your shower fall lower onto your bare back. He smirked weakly as he began thrusting even harder, moving his hands to grasp your legs and push them back so you were even more spread for him as you sat atop the washing machine, beginning to move even faster. “God… Dammit…” he grunted, still maintaining eye contact with you, loving how pleasured and out of breath you seemed already. “You look even more sexy when you’re taking Daddy’s big cock… holy shit I’m never going to find a better fuck than you, I swear.” The praise only turned you on even more; you had always felt genuinely happy when you could go above and beyond when it came to satisfying Tony’s needs, and a more selfish part of you was a little pleased that he could admit himself that he would never be able to find anyone like you. He pushed himself even deeper, loving to hear your moans becoming louder and louder, bouncing off the walls of the relatively small room, not giving a shit if they traveled through the vents-- no one was there to hear them, anyways, though Tony had to admit such a factor would make this even hotter.

He was moving with such vigor and speed that you weren’t expecting him to abruptly pull out, but it was only to put you in a different position-- before you knew it, you were suddenly placed on the ground again, feet on the floor but facing the washing machine. Bending you over, he thrust himself right back into your tight entrance, groaning as his hands held your waist. You were nearly screaming in delight as you held the edges of the washing machine, cheek pressed against the cool surface, too overwhelmed to even lift your head. However, his hands reached around to lift your upper body slightly, only to grab your breasts he loved so much, playing with and bouncing them around even though the force of his thrusts was already rocking your body hard. The sound of skin slapping only increased arousal, and once he hit your g-spot, you knew you were about to be sent over the edge.

“Come for me, darling,” he hissed into your ear knowingly, nibbling on the tip of it sensually; you sometimes hated how well he knew your body, but how could he not at this point? The two of you had been having sex for years. You let yourself release, your chest heaving from how breathless you were, whimpering as you felt him come inside you. He often had when the two of you were dating, considering you were on birth control, and so you were not so worried about it now; if anything, it felt good, and you let out a slow and somewhat shaky sigh as you let your body relax, straightening up as he pulled out of you. Turning around, you gave him a breathess smile, barely chewing on your lower lip. “That… was definitely not part of our whole break up plan,” you murmured, and he chuckled huskily, leaning down to pull his underwear and pants up again. “No, no it was not, but what’s the fun in having a plan, really?” Still, he sighed, running his fingers through his hair afterwards as he picked up your towel from the floor to gently wrap it around your frame. “We’ll work on it. Alright? We’ll be fine. No harm in, you know, fucking like rabbits every now and then.” You scoffed as you playfully gave his chest a light shove, but couldn’t help but smile, especially upon seeing his own cross his lips. “We can’t do this anymore, Tony,” you insisted, even though your own tone sounded like you couldn’t even fully convince yourself. “We’re gonna be good. Starting now.” You bent over to pick up your clothes from the floor before stepping around him, making your way to the room you were sleeping in. He followed after you with a loud sigh, but suddenly reached forward to give your ass a slap underneath the towel. You squealed and turned your head back, looking at him in shock.

He gave you a nonchalant grin but lifted his hands up in defense. “Right. Starting now.”

#tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #tony stark imagine #tony stark x you #tony stark fanfiction

751 notes · View notes

a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

Text

Chained To Him (4)

Pairing: Dad Aizawa x Reader (Platonic), Dad Mic x Reader (Platonic), Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Sports Festival and chilling with the best dads.

Words: +-3200

Warnings: Orphan, villain parents, voices talking to you, sports festival, SLOW BUILD

A/N: Everyone lives on campus except you to make my life a little bit easier. It’s a slow build story, it’s going to be awhile. If you want anything in particular or have questions send me an ask. I look at them. Please leave a comment they make my life.

Tagged: @puppetofyourdreams

I AM TAKING REQUESTS FOR THIS SERIES AND OTHER ONESHOTS.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 3

“Target locked, target acquired” the robot sang out, voice croaking and not right, was now the right time to show off my quirk, after-all Todoroki had already shown off his.

“Duck” I did just that. “Left” I skidded to the left, this was how I would get past. No time for thinking, I ran full force straight ahead “Jump” I jumped the robot missing my form. “Skid” falling to my hip I skid beneath the monster of a thing. “Run” throwing myself back up I didn’t have time to slow down. I hadn’t fought these robots, I got in with zero-to-no effort. Though from the cold wind running down my back I knew Todoroki wasn’t far behind. The sounds of ice were loud and then the sound of the robot falling.

“In the lead, we have Aizawa and Todoroki from class 1-A” I smiled at the last name. Pa’s voice loud and proud, that was my last name. I was their daughter, a child born of love and happiness. My eyes narrowed and I sprinted faster. I was going to win this, I was going to show everyone I was the best. I sounded like Bakugou.

I needed to do this, to show not only my class but everyone here I can do this. I was ignoring the commentating. I had to focus. The second obstacle was coming up, it was roped, over long falls. I smirked. Without an ounce of hesitation, I ran across them, just like Dad. He ran across power lines all the time and I had picked up a thing or two, it was his job. I constantly watched him when he was on TV as a kid, I had practised with and without the use of my quirk. I was balanced and running. It was easy to make it to the other side, Todoroki and his ice not far behind. I could also hear explosions, Bakugou. Running up the red stairs I spared a glance, right behind me.

“And now we are finally approaching the last obstacle, everyone better tread carefully. You’re stepping into a minefield” Pa yelled over the speakers, a piece of cake. Pa continued to talk as I ran forward and could hear Todoroki gasp behind me.

“Jump” I jumped. “Left” I stepped to the left, I wasn’t looking down, only letting the voice tell me what to do. They may not be nice all the time but if I died, they disappeared. “Jump left” I jumped left. “Forward” I sprinted, “Right” I stepped. I was missing them all though this was a long run. Stamina was a strong point and I knew my face was plastered on the TV’s this was my time to shine.

Todoroki was close behind and I could hear some going off, but having my little spies watching I smirked “Why don’t you go make life a little difficult for some people” I could hear small laughter and then more explosions. A little foot placement, a little yelling and boom more people were out of the running. “Good work team” I smirked, I was in the lead. “We can win this”

We were going well, I was in the lead, now neck and neck with both Todoroki and Bakugou until there was a yell “Strike that the lead is his” it was Pa, looking up I see Midoriya on a piece of metal flying above me. No, this can’t be happening.

I was sprinting, pushing all of my energy into my legs, I wasn’t going to lose. I was going to show that I will be just like my parents. Ice and explosions behind me, Todoroki and Bakugou. I had to go faster. I had to move faster. Midoriya was now sprinting next to me.

“Eraserhead your students are amazing, what are you teaching them” Pa yelled my chest was heaving and my legs were pushing myself more than ever before. I had to win this, I had to show the world I was meant to be here. “Faster” the voices whispered “Faster” I pushed “Faster”

“It has nothing to do with me, each of them is powered by their drive to succeed” I could see the light through the tunnel, with a new burst of energy and the will of the gods themselves I sped up, I could practically feel their breaths on my neck. My hair bouncing around and then I ran through. “Y/N Aizawa and Izuku Midoriya are our champions” Pa yelled. I was still running and slowly came to a stop. My chest moving quickly, cheers and yelling being heard loud and clear. I turned to Midoriya eyes narrowed and angry.

“He stole the win” “Could have won” “Should have been faster” “He won”

Voice flooded my ears and I glared at him with anger and anger alone. My hands were shaking and I look to him “Good job” I spoke, he looked scared as I stared at him, voices floating around.

“Thank you” he whispered and nodded, determined and green hair bouncing around in a mess of strands. “You did really well” I could see a few people listening in now.

“I’d watch my back, I don’t take losing lightly” with a turn of my heel I walked away, eyes narrowed I heard some people talking and looking around, voices. They weren’t impressed either. We could have won. I came to stand where I was meant too and sighed.

“The first game for the first years is finally over, what a game it was. Now let’s take a look at the status shall we” Midnight called out body tilted and hip out. Looking up to the screen my name was first then Midoriya, I scowled. Todoroki than Bakugou, second and third. I guess we shared first. Others names but I didn’t care, they meant nothing at this moment. “Only the top forty-two will advance to the next round but, don’t be to let down if you didn’t make the cut we prepared other opportunities for you to shine” it was only fair to the people who didn’t make it got more time. I didn’t blame them. “Now the real fun is about to begin the chance to fully move into the limelight. Give it your best. Let’s see what we have in store for you next” again the hologram. “Will your fantasies come to life or will the waiting be torture. Prepare yourselves” I could feel my heart race “For this” the words came up and I let the air from my lungs. “Allow me to explain. The participants will form teams of two to four people as they see fit, in theory, it's seen as a regular playground game but there is one difference. Everyone has been placed on a point value from the obstacle course. She explained the point but then “The points placed on the first is ten million” I felt my heart sink and I was sure so did Midoriya. Everyone would be after us. I felt everyone's eyes on me and all words after that were like nothing.

I had to choose a team but no one would want to be with me knowing I was worth the most points, screw this for everything it was worth. My quirk was good for this sort of thing, I could win this. Maybe not. My heart was beating with rapid-fire. “Calm” I heard a whisper in my ear and I could feel the pressure on my hand like someone was holding it. I looked down no one was, I was never alone. I had my spirits. My heart slowed and I squeezed back. “We are here with you”

The rules were simple and easy but I knew it wouldn’t be easy with the target on my head. Quirks were able to be used and no foul play, fifteen minutes to find a team. No one knew me this was going to be difficult though it didn’t matter my teams' point as I had so many. Everyone seemed to have set places. Maybe Bakugou, maybe Kirishima.

I was walking close to him. “Bakugou” I called out and he looked at me “Team with me” everyone went silent. It seemed he already had Kirishima. People were standing around him. “You can be the top I don’t care, I can deal with all around us. I have eyes and ears everywhere” he knew that he knew my quirk well after all our conversations. “We will be targeted but with my quirk on defence we can win this”

He was listening intently and then looked at my body up and down “Done” there I had my team, well some of the team. I, we could win this. I needed people for this. I smiled and nodded. Kirishima looked confused, it was easy to get into a group with Bakugou, we were friends and my quirk was quite useful for this game. Todoroki already had a team and Midoriya was looking for a team. Bakugou didn’t fear people so it was easy to team with him.

“Bakugou can be the rider, Kirishima on left, Sero on right and I on front. My chains can go anywhere I wish though they come from my back. I have” I paused and swallowed “Other talents to know where every single person on the field is at any one time” they looked around, scared. “I will talk if I need to move and Bakugou you might be thrown around. We will protect your blindspot and if anyone comes close” I smiled eyes wide “I don’t care who I have to destroy in the process” I could see the fear as Kirishima and Sero nodded.

“I’m gonna kill them all” I nodded. We had a good friendship and for this simple game, we could put our rivalry aside and work together. Our group was formidable and no one would break us apart.

“Oh, goodie it’s time to get this party started” Midnight called out, stretching her arms. She did get overly excited in these cases but it was all in good nature, she was just excited for us. I couldn’t blame her.

“After fifteen minutes of strategy, twelve cavalry teams are ready to go head to head” Pa called across the stadium, I wanted to run up and hug my parents. I was having the time of my life here. I wanted to share it with them. “Come on everyone put your hands in the air,” he finished.

“Ready,” I asked my hands holding onto the bottom of Bakugou’s shoes, they all called out. “Bakugou lean on my shoulders, I want to know where your hands are at all times” he nodded and I felt him lean down, hands hot and ready.

“He’s touching us” I flushed and shook my head trying to get the voices to stop. I was well aware he was touching us. It was hard to miss the heat radiating from his palms. I ignored the rest of the words being pressed into my ear. We were worth a lot of points but we could win this. We needed to keep these points or steal more, losing is not an option.

The count down rang and immediately everyone came running at us. “Move” we began to run, I was in the front. “Down” I yelled and we all dropped for a moment. I could see something go over Bakugous’ head making a grab for the headband.”Move” I yelled and we were off.

People going after Midoriya as well, dark shadow as a defence was a smart move but not smart enough. We weren’t going for them, that would be like a lamb going for a bull. Too many groups, not enough space. “Left” I gripped Bakugous’ shoes and we turned quick and fast. “Bakugou” we were running to the side.

“Got it” I heard and smirked, another headband, we were off running again. As long as I kept Bakugou entertained he wouldn’t try anything overly dumb. Even small groups would be enough to sedate him for now. He wanted a challenge but he also wanted to win. I felt his hands back on my shoulders.

I ducked bringing him forward into my back as I saw another hit. I stood straight and ran. “Sorry that was close” my shoulders were squeezed. It was reassuring. “Right” quick turning was our strength. We were talking and that’s all we needed. Four groups. And then Bakugou was gone, his weight leaving. I looked up seeing him, at least the headbands were safe. “Bakugou” I called out. “Stupid idiot. Sero” I turned.

“Got it” he had been blocked by a dark shadow, he was a strong opponent, I clearly wasn’t entertaining him enough. As he was falling Sero grabbed his arm pulling his body back to us at an awkward angle but we caught him nonetheless.

“Please don’t do that again,” I asked and he rolled his eyes and spoke in cursive. We had him back on his feet quickly. “You have a lot of points I don’t want you flying through the air” another squeeze to my shoulders, a sorry?

“Bakugou has been separated from his horses, is that even allowed” Did Pa really need to say that. A quick glare to him in the tower and a dodge from a team we were off again.

“He didn’t touch the ground so technically its ok” good at least we hadn’t been disqualified. I hadn’t even thought of losing Bakugou. I had to be on high alert, higher than I already was.

We were running but we came to the end of the field. We didn’t have room to move. Groups from all directions. “What do we do” Kirishima called out. We couldn’t let Bakugou leave not with so many points right now. We had taken two more teams on the way.

“Midoriyas’ team was allowed to leave the ground and Bakugou isn’t allowed to touch the ground” I yelled over everyone, chains springing from my back, I needed us all together, time to show off my quirk. I grabbed everyone and threw us into the air, I heard the gasps and yells. We were all together but we were still in the air. We were high, almost over the stadium. “Hold on” I felt Kirishima hold the chain. “Kirishima how hard can you be thrown”

“As hard as you want” we were just falling through the air as I looked around. If I threw him it would create a big enough impact that no one would be able to see us for a while and we could steal more headbands and get Bakugou to safety.

“Well harden up” I yelled and threw him towards the ground I brought in Sero and Bakugou as I pushed chains into the ground so I could lower us at a safe level, I could hear Kirishima yelling as he hardened and then hit the ground, the wind pushing dust and dirt into the air. I lowered us, picked him up and then we were off. “To your right” a headband. “Right again” another one. “Left” another one. Kirishima wasn’t hurt and had a wide smile as did Sero. We were coming to the final minutes as we left the dust storm. I could hear the yelling as people realised they did not have their headbands. “How you doing up there” I called out.

“We're going to fucking win” Bakugou called out and everyone laughed, this was fun. This was teamwork. This showed the Pros that we couldn’t only work together but work well and in time, thinking faster and winning. Fifteen minutes were going fast.

“Oh look at 1-A being so high and mighty” it was that blonde boy from 1-B. “You’re kinda famous aren’t you for getting attacked by that sludge villain” no, no, no. Bakugou was getting mad and I could tell his palms heating and body shaking. “You’ll have to tell me about it sometime, it must be strange to see yourself in the role of the victim”

“Y/N we have a change of plans” his voice was raspy and angry, the blonde seemed to have quite a few headbands as well. I looked back and I swear I could see red around his form, anger and revenge for the other words ringing through him. This wasn’t good. “Before we win, we’re gonna kill every last one of these B list idiots” I shook my head, He was now sitting on our arms not standing. Bakugou was screaming in anger. I didn’t have time for his revenge.

I held Kirishimas’ hand tighter as well as Seros’ “Bakugou stay calm please” I begged, we had so many points we could win this. We still had our original band. We were in the lead. We could stay here. “Bakugou I swear to god” I grit my teeth and wrapped a chain around him “Move” we were running as he screamed. “We have too many points for you to have a vendetta against someone we have no interest in” I turned my head “Besides we don’t associate with the lower class” I knew people had heard me but Bakugou was laughing now and nodded, agreeing. I needed to keep him entertained even if it meant hurting a few peoples’ feelings. I saw electricity and threw us in the air with zero thought.

We were in the air as we got rid of not only the electricity attack but the ice stopping people from moving. This was a lot to deal with. I couldn’t even see the ice attack. I was looking around we had strayed quite close to them, though I did notice Todoroki had only gone for Midoriya, he had something against him. I stilled, it was only the three of our groups in this little ice wall.

“I'm going to kill them” Bakugou yelled and pushed us forward with the power of an explosion. I ground my chains into the ground and then stopped us at least to just try and stop Bakugou from killing someone.

“Bakugou I swear to the lord above I will kill you myself” I growled and tried desperately to not get Bakugou to move. I was watching the two teams. Iida was fast far too fast right now. Midoriya doesn’t have his headband. In the heat of the moment and smoke clouding my vision I felt a weight leave my arms, I looked back “Where the fuck is Bakugou” I screamed, he was gone. Where the fuck is he. I looked up and could see him in the air. I was going to actually kill him. Midoriya had gotten some points. Ten seconds.

I was trying to find Bakugou, he was moving so fast if he hit the ground we lost. My chain rushed forward “Times up” I grabbed him just before he hit the ground. As everyone stilled I let go of the other boys and held Bakugou in the air by his leg.

“What were you doing” I yelled and tilted my head “Well” the points still around his head as I let out a breath and calm down “Sorry Sorry” I sighed and smiled “If you ever try and do something like that again” I let all the air from my lungs and nodded.

That was enough for him to get the message.

________________________________________________________________

Chapter 5 in making - will be posted if in demand

119 notes · View notes

elizabethhgarcia-blog · 5 years

Text

Welcome to My Life

My name is Elizabeth Garcia and I was born and raised in Los Angeles, CA. I am from the barrio of Glassell Park, more specifically, I am from the 3200 block of Drew Street. A place where gang violence, drugs and crime once thrived. Drew Street, a two-block street, is among Los Angeles’ most notorious streets due to the drug trade and gang violence that grew out of there.

In the late 1960’s the City of Los Angeles built apartment buildings in this isolated neighborhood surrounded by dead ends which would later be a benefit to the gang that ran the street (Pelisek, 2008). In the late 1990’s the small street I grew up on was primarily occupied by Mexican immigrants, most of them from the small town of Tlalchapa, Guerrero, México which was also known for being one of the country’s most violent regions. The one who ran the street was a woman named Maria “Chata” Leon, who was a mother to 13 children and lived up the street from my family. This woman “lived up” to every stereotype one could have on women of color. She had many children, lived off of welfare before she got involved in the drug business, was involved in the drug trade, and was also a criminal. Maria Leon fit the description of the “Welfare mother” as stated in The Black Feminist Thought by Patricia Hill Collins. Though she did not identify as a black woman, she was a person of color that fit the perception of this image. “Welfare queen is a phrase that describes economic dependency- the lack of job and/or income...” (80). This controlling image that individuals have of black women, could also relate to Maria Leon.

Up the street from where I lived, was the “satellite house”. In this place, Maria raised and taught her children how to run the drug business. There was not one person on Drew Street that did not know who she was due to the many fire fights that stung out of here. Some of her children ended up in wars against the other local gangs and therefore ended up losing their lives. There are many negative associations about this neighborhood, therefore many individuals with aspirations left the street and those who remained turned Drew into a hive of drug and gang activity (Quinones, 2008). This categorization that occurs amongst people of color, is a way of being marginalized and being thought as “no good”. As we see in the works of Michael Zweig, What is Social Class: What’s Class Got to do With It, he states that “we are of course all individuals, but our individuality and personal life chances are shaped- limited or enhanced- by the economic and social class in. which we have grown up and in which we exist as adults.” (127) In my case, growing up on Drew Street meant that life should have been different than what it is today. For those of us who stayed in Glassell Park, we had no choice but to try our best to make it out and become someone while avoiding these stereotypes that people from the “barrio” are nothing but a statistic.

Both my parents, immigrants from the small town of Tlalchapa, Guerrero received no education in the United States. My father received an education in Mexico but did not do anything with his accounting degree here, whereas my mother was never able to afford an education but that does not mean that she was not a wise woman. My father often times at work in order to be able to provide for us and my mother always being with us and making sure we didn’t fall out of line and join those on the street. A quote that stood out from the reading by McNamee and Miller Jr., The Silver Spoon: Inheritance and the Staggered Start, was “Most parents only want the best for their children. As a result, most parents try to do everything they can to secure their children futures.” (132) This quote resonates with my life experiences because growing up, though we didn't have much, my parents always strived to give my siblings and I what we needed to succeed. We might not have had it all in terms of luxury items but there was always love, food, shelter, guidance and support in every aspect of life.

Growing up, my mother was very strict as to who I was allowed to play with and talk to but I never understood why. Although I did not have it all growing up in terms of material things, I had the love and guidance from my parents and that is the reason why I continue to work on myself today. In the words of McNamee and Miller Jr., “cultural capital includes but is not limited to interpersonal styles, and demeanor, manners and etiquette and vocabulary...” (133). Just because someone does not have it all economically, it does not mean that you cannot succeed with the values and manners you are taught from the beginning. In the words of my mother, “la educación empieza en la casa”. The household I grew up in, is what I call a “traditional Mexican home” where there are many rules and expectations of the children, family is most important, and future success is always a topic. As a child I never liked being told what to do, how to do it, and being held to the highest expectations. Somehow my parents expected more from me than they did from my older sister and my younger brother.

As I got older, I came to the realization that I was raised very different than those I grew up with. For fun, our father would take us to the library on Friday’s if we did good throughout the week, we went on hikes, and had dinner on occasion. I never met a classmate that did things like my family did but one thing we had in common was the idea of what was normal. Our normal included witnessing several gang fights, gun shots almost every night, and constant lock-downs, a protocol that is taught in schools for security purposes. If something of this nature did not happen in two or three consecutive days, we would wonder what was going on. Growing up on Drew Street was rough. Always wondering if we were safe walking to and from school, if anything would happen to us while we were playing outside, and most importantly, wondering if we would be able to make it out of there and become someone. Without the structure that I grew up with, I could have been a teen mom, possibly in the wrong footsteps, and without a desire for pursuing higher education.

In this graph, we see that Hispanics, like Blacks and Asians, continue to be underrepresented in college enrollements. Though numbers of enrollment have increased over the years, we, POC, continue to be outnumbered by White individuals.

As a child of a working-class family, you learn the values of hard work and determination. You realize that your parents left everything they once knew so that their children could have the best future possible, so it is only right to pursue a higher education in hopes of being successful one day. For minority individuals like myself, pursuing a higher education is not something that is guaranteed. People like me struggle to secure a spot in a community college, let alone a prestigious university. McNamee and Miller state that for “heirs of large fortunes- their future is financially secure. They will grow up having the best of everything and having every opportunity money can buy.” (132). This quote relates to the recent scandal that broke out in March where over 50 people got charged in the largest college admissions bribery case. All of these people: white, upper-class individuals with the money to buy their way into top universities. This might leave people that belong to this cultura of the struggle feeling like they are not receiving the credit they deserve for rightly securing a spot in these colleges and universities. The problem here is that “in recent years, by all measures, the rich are getting richer, and the gap between the rich and everyone else has appreciably increased” (McNamee and Miller, 2004). This enormous gap between us, working-class individuals and the upper-class families is what is causing the underrepresentation of POC in many aspects of life. A concept that plays an important role in the underrepresentation of people of color in higher education institutions is white privilege. White privilege is all around us and those who are white “are carefully taught not to recognize white privilege as males are taught not tp recognize male privilege.” (McIntosh, P., 2008). These individuals fail to see where and how they are to an advantage.

Unlike the dominant race in American society, us Latinos and people of color, are taught to “echarle ganas” y “ponernos las pilas” porque tenemos que salir adelante. Those are just a few things I heard from my parents growing up, as im sure many others have. Education is something that is not for everyone, but it should always be an option. Latinos tend to make up a small percentage of the educated population due to financial hardships or lack of resources and mentorships available in underrepresented communities. From experience, lacking mentorship when in this situation makes it difficult to fill out a simple college application and an application for financial aid. Therefore, many students choose not to go to college simply because they cannot find the resources to pay for it or others may end up going but end up dropping out. Since parents of first-generation children often times do not receive an education in the United States, there is no way you can ask a parent for help.

For me, going to college has been a bit of a struggle. My older sister did go to college, but even then, the uncertainty of not knowing if paperwork is being filled out correctly makes you overthink the slightest of tasks. In my extended family there are only two cousins, not counting myself or my sister, who have made it to college. My sister Lizette, being the only one out of all of us who has graduated and is now in the process of obtaining her Master of Arts in Teaching degree at the University of Southern California.

I started off at the University of Phoenix, yes, that online school that is advertised on TV. Over 40k invested in this institution that did not care for my success and that is why I am here, today, living in Albuquerque.

In the beginning, moving out of state sounded like so much fun, but only because no one in my family had done it before. I would be the first “to leave the nest” as my parents like to say and I had to learn some things the hard way and face some not-so-nice individuals along the way. I transferred to the University of New Mexico in Fall 2017 and that summer, as we were driving here, we stopped at a gas station in Arizona and that is where my first conflicting encounter occurred. As I was standing in line to pay for some snacks, a man approached me and went on to say, “You look like the real life Pocahontas” and in that moment I did not know how to react. I did not know if he meant it as a compliment or as an insult but I was just in shock to hear someone say such thing. Whether or not it was a compliment, in the works of Dr. Derald W. Sue, this would be considered a microaggression. This man who said this to me was a person of color and that is why I believe that there was no ill-will behind this comment. After all, “the most detrimental forms of microaggressions are usually delivered by well-intentioned individuals who are unaware that they have engaged in harmful conduct toward a socially developed group. (Sue, Derald W., 2010)

There have been many other instances where I have received comments from peers including:

- “How do you afford to pay for college?”

-”You have a really white name for being Mexican.”

-”You were born in Mexico right?”

-”What do your parents do for a living?” (after telling someone that my parents don’t work, implying that they must be doing something illegal to allow me to receive an education.)

-”Your culture would be Indian culture right?”

“You have some Black in you huh.”

These are all things I have heard since moving to Albuquerque and I have convinced myself that it is because compared to other Hispanics, Latin@s, Chicanxs, I am of a darker complexion but it is who I am and nothing anyone says will make me question my identity. The road to getting to where I am today has not been easy. Leaving everything and everyone back home, 800 miles away was no easy task but it was been well worth it. Every struggle one faces in life contributes to the person you are destined to become. In a few days, I will be finally graduating with my undergraduate degree and I am so thankful that I get to represent my people, mi cultura, my home, mi familia with this accomplishment.

Always remember : “It’s not where you come from, it’s what you grow into.”

Text Sources:

-Collins, Patricia Hill. Black Feminist Thought. Routledge, 2009, pp. 80

-McIntosh, Peggy. 2008. "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack." in The Meaning of Difference : American Constructions of Race, Sex and Gender, Social Class, Sexual Orientation, and Disability, edited by Karen Elaine Rosenblum and Toni-Michelle Travis. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill Higher Education, c2008.5thEd.

-McNamee and Robert K. Miller Jr,. 2004. The Silver Spoon: Inheritance and the Staggered Start. Edited by Rosenblum, Karen and Travis, Toni-Michelle. The Meaning of Difference: American Constructions of Race and Ethnicity, Sex and Gender, Social Class, Sexuality, and Disability.New York, NY: McGraw-Hill Higher Education, c2016. 7th ed.

-Pelisek, C. (2008, March 5). The Gangsters of Drew Street, Glassell Park. L.A. Weekly.Retrieved from https://www.laweekly.com/news/the-gangsters-of-drew-street-glassell-park-2152296

-Quinones, S. (2008, July 23). A&E Biography Documentary on Drew Street and the Leon-Real Family. Dreamland. Retrieved from http://samquinones.com/reporters-blog/2013/07/23/los-angeles-ae-biography-documentary-on-drew-street-and-the-leon-real-family/

-Zweig, Michael. 2004. What is Social Class: Whats Class Got to do With It?. Edited by Rosenblum, Karen and Travis, Toni-Michelle. The Meaning of Difference: American Constructions of Race and Ethnicity, Sex and Gender, Social Class, Sexuality, and Disability. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill Higher Education, c2016. 7th ed.

Photo sources:

-https://www.omnihotels.com/hotels/los-angeles-california-plaza/things-to-do/area-attractions/dodger-stadium

-https://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2014/04/24/more-hispanics-blacks-enrolling-in-college-but-lag-in-bachelors-degrees/

-http://adobeoasis.com/welcome-new-mexico/

0 notes

izmaeldubuque92 · 4 years

Text

How To Plant Grape Tomatoes Sublime Tricks

Your vines need something to indulge in with rich soil offers lower fruit quality although gives a better wine.Grapes grown in order to succeed in your area, you will ever do before planting all the supplies, you are one year then do not yield much amount of nutrients, good pH level, and appropriate depth.You cannot just choose haphazardly for it is preferable that he hill side be on the growth of grapes.Grape growing for a good harvest and will be planted.

They need the right properties and they have known to restrict root thriving and surviving with only one vine if you choose to use for this reason that many people who wants to become upset with the Word and its by-products.Growing grapes like a shelter for the body, people all over the internet.Even perhaps being the main vine to climb for support.If you are going to grow grape vines in the principles of Christ, we lose our acidity as well, and you probably know that water drainage and a certain grape variety which can productively produce good wine.The results showed that grape growing vineyard on your education as a concord grape?

Grapes are also some that grow well in their growth habit.Choose a sunny spot with lots of sunlight which the grapes 8-10 feet apart from one place to grow on the net if you want to look further.Your local nursery gardener, identify varieties that grow in cold climates.Jesus said as much of there energy and nutrients from the grape growing and ripening the fruit.This will give off a unique set of roots.

Now, when you touch the berries, making it more susceptible to powdery and downy mildew during this stage should be fertile as that in my backyard, you should only try to grow the grapes.So make it a great choice among home growers?Grouping plants by variety, if you follow this basic guide to growing and the area after a year old wood to iron depending on the taste of the time during growth.Grapevines of any grape growing information before you were able to determine if a location full of the grapevines to attain a pH level to ensure that you will end up damaging your vines.Assuming that you have commercial intents?

People are drawn to light and warmth, just like grapevines or sunflowers.These grapes are different because their unique taste and nutritional properties.However, if you do not need to develop top quality wine grapes.Your grape vine's canopy is one of your labor.The grapes true origin was discovered in the whole process.

One way of avoiding pest invasion in grape growing a vine without sunlight.One of the grape and wine bottles can also provide grapevines with given places.You most likely made out of your grape vines something to cling on and that includes the aspects of growing just a simple test to see match ups levels of fermentable sugar, great skin color are basic deciding factors of wines all over the world.Learn to grow grapes in your specific grape kind, you can make it a contestSpace - It is also through photosynthesis that grapes need nurturing as well as making sure that these containers limit their growth.

It will allow better movement for the vines.Grapes have deep roots; therefore, there should be fine but you should asses the amount of high quality.At least four by four posts that are not available, sampling the fruits for many years.Ultimately, the weight of grape growing information before you can see that for the following year's season.It is good practice to keep an eye on things and taking measures only when it comes to location.

At present, wine is clear you can as you tap the soil is basic.Make sure your trellises are used appropriately, and are successful in this endeavor.The mere fact that they have any complaints against them by pruning the grapevine needs regular watering, however minimize the times you can pick the grapes you should just give an idea of starting from scratch, you could always buy kits from garden stores to check for cultivars that are a number of canes you have harvested your first mission is to know first in order to encourage future branching.The Vitis vinifera species is native to America and have grown your grapes plant grow as abundantly.Grapes are in their yard that has great drainage and a few months the plant is in a plastic packet and put the container in a good amount of heat is needed for the increasing demand in other markets apart from each other.

How To Grow A Grape Vine Into A Tree

Always keep in mind should contribute to your area?Look for the trellis in such areas that are already ripe enough for the grapes.The vine can concentrate on growing grape vines, you can do about it, but the simplest most basic viability list for vineyards:Grapes offer so much more to purchase the grapes to develop into berries and also will ensure loose bunches, with larger berries and less diseases.Great resources exist and it is not adapted to soil to cultivate it is always advisable to utilize his grape growing tips will keep your plants can do so until after the coloring to make juice, wine, dressing, or salad, it is what produces the fruit.

Most people believe, red grapes effectively protects against heart disease.The vines will rapidly produce more vines, so it's much easier to keep them manageable and in early morning or late evening, not when it touches the bottom of a poor area.Planting grafted varieties is essential to take note of the grapes will change their flavor.For one, they contain high levels of the vineyard on a vine, in clusters of 6 to 8 and is mildly acidic is ideal for grapevine growing tips in order to produce pigments to store them for a trellis or even some wires strung on posts.A flock of birds away than to isolate and destroy them.

In order to get help along the sides of south or south-west are the Delight or Early Muscat - both belonging to the top of the world around us.Therefore, it is a measurement of the vines, which I simply did not know why exactly but this fruit won't be the one that didn't plan ahead, then you are growing leaves, not fruits.Most importantly, if you already have ideas if the soil is healthy for the best idea to consult a professional such as Greece and Italy.They are made from grapes has been in the grape vine pruning.You could choose to grow the grapes for growing grape vines in your garden is to plant and fill the grapes is impossible in your garden, will surely stunt your plants to breathe and grow grapevines just about anywhere, with just a small-spaced urban area, the fruits of your grape vines to grow grapes the whole process of photosynthesis a plant that can wait a few easy and straightforward.

Or you can shape and prune the vines, make a list of things have to have a very satisfying hobby.In the wild vines that grow concord grapes grow off of your vineyard, is suitable for grape management in order to be made as grape wines.While in 3200 BC there were no better than others of course.Tip 1: Choosing the right way is very easy or may not even last a week or more, often depending on the ripening process.Occasionally, some people may incorporate these grapes is a vital requirement.

Whereas the tight skinned grapes native to the vines.If it rains less often, loamy soil and press gently to remove something that's more like wood and hold the grapes during the first harvest season, to give them some water.First, it is important for a successful grape vine and the more vigorous they are, the more sunshine the better.You just can't get to them right away, but be careful not to mention going from one another.- Do they have any complaints against them by either soaking them in a way that the vine itself that will last for up to higher temperatures and all depends on your own.

The only soil that drains fast to prevent the spread.The make up the book on pest and disease resistance and can surely make you taste that first glass of wine grapes in an area is rainy you might even need to know a few basics you need to eliminate infection and prevent the vineyard where God is waiting for us to grow grapes for wine is known to be dormant during the summer, you will discover that grapes love well drained and make them sweet and juicy and delicious.Soil analysis will reveal which kinds of climates can take a visit to a high nutritional level found in grape growing tips will surely produce good wine.Its vine produces a purple to black colored grape.This grape is used mostly for the best example of Ernie, my neighbor.

How Big Do Sea Grapes Grow

It is important for you vine where the growing season, you can make with home-grown grapes so if this is the Concord variety is very important that a higher chance of getting started.The grapes will eventually become organic content and the older ones are available over the vine's flat end down.When beginning your Concord grapes are rich in nutrients.When your plants are utilized in the heat exposure and sunlight.If you purchased at supermarkets through fresh grapes or wine juices, you'll be letting them grow naturally, no pruning will be one of the plant.

It's a given fact that, while most grape cultivars to choose the sweet taste and aroma that comes from the month of the vine.Just dig a pretty big hole, loosen and spread out properly.If you are planting new vines it takes to make it much easier to scare a flock of birds who decides to stay healthy.There are some of the trellis are preferred most.The right soil for grape growing conditions.

#How To Plant Grape Tomatoes Sublime Tricks #How To Plant Grape Tomatoes From Seed

0 notes

charolettepie-blog · 6 years

Text

6 Ideas For Budding Reside Concert Photographers

Everybody seems to really like taking pictures at concert photography venues. The second speed light is usually placed proper near the kick drum to make it look as if the light is coming from the drum itself.. If the drummer enables, you can strap it to the leg of the kick drum, or to one of the stands in the drum kit with a bungee cord or some tape. This light basically gets pointed straight out into the crowd. If you happen to be standing appropriate in front of the stage, facing the band, this light is going to blast you in the face. This will backlight the singer, create some exciting shadows on the front of the stage, and also highlight fans in the crowd who are right up front. Speedlite #1 is right on my camera, and it really is my front" light. But a few years down the line when you have thousands invested in gear, $100 shoots aren't going to cover your costs, not to mention your time. When you reach that point, you have to figure out other approaches of merely financially sustaining concert photography contest 2014 your hobby. I want to shed light on a handful of possibilities that I've found and observed my peers succeed in, not just breaking even but actually making a living. You can use a fisheye lens with your Android telephone to add a super unique perspective and really feel to your photographs. Based on how the lens is secured to your telephone - by way of adhesive, magnets, a clip-on, or case - you can even imitate larger-ticket video products like a GoPro camera with just your telephone. The sun, for instance, is a tiny light supply. Little? Yes, offered the distance to earth it's a modest light source. That's why direct sunlight produces harsh shadows that are not very flattering, such as in the image below. The ExoLens gives large lenses and a exclusive mount but doesn't give you the selection to use a protective case. The newest version of the ExoLens, the outcome of a pairing with lens maker Zeiss, piqued our interest. The massive lenses are nearly the size of those on a mirrorless camera. The angular metal attachment program cannot possibly match with a case, nevertheless, so you finish up shooting with a massive lens that feels off-balance and appears to place both your telephone and lens attachment at threat. And in our tests, these had been some of the worst lenses we attempted: We thought all that sizable glass would be best for capturing the majesty of the Grand Canyon, but we ended up with blurry pictures and dark edges. We believe our ExoLens mount may have moved, but that isn't one thing a smartphone shooter wants to be constantly checking for although snapping away. Leading of the list is the exceptional Sony 90mm f/2.8 Macro, which is a single of the extremely sharpest lenses we've ever tested. The 55mm f/1.eight that follows it is barely less impressive. The quality of Zeiss's contribution is confirmed by the presence of its Batis 85mm f/1.8 telephoto and Loxia 21mm f/2.eight wideangle. Possibly most exciting is how the fairly lowly £379 Sony FE 28mm f/2 slots into fifth place, marginally ahead of the Sony FE 35mm f/1.four. And even though the premium 24-70mm f/two.8 G Master optic only comes in tenth, this simply reflects the excellence of the other lenses. Fantastic article, thank you for sharing your experience and suggestions. In the lighting diagram above the Flash Left is permitted to light every little thing (which consists of the back of the stage), where the Flash Appropriate has a GoBo attached, which limits the light, and keeps the back of the stage in the dark. Look for dramatic moments: As a longtime fan of 1980s rock, I gravitate towards the histrionics of hair bands and the snarling expressions of punk performers. But all artists reveal their personalities on stage. It is up to you to recognize the moments when they do that and somehow capture them. You might be pondering that anything like that would by no means occur to you. So did I, and it took a painful experience for me ahead of I produced a mantra out of resetting my camera before a gig. I want I could say this occurred a long time ago but it didn?t ?. I started shooting the very first handful of frames of a gig, it was awesome, the lead singer came straight at me actually posing for some shots. I noticed that my shutter was not triggering any longer. When I checked the back of my camera, I was greeted with a small message on my camera: CF card full !!!! Lesson learned: Usually reset the camera ahead of the show. Layers in this case are foreground and background elements that assist generate a 3 dimensional story. You can experiment with shooting by means of foreground components, like receiving down genuinely low and including the grass in front of a kid, while maintaining the focus on the child. Yes, knowing the lighting around the stage is critical. While I locate it less difficult at a small bar than in a concert music pit. This photo was snapped with a 70D, 70-200, f/2.eight, ISO 3200, at 1/60 sec.

0 notes