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aibidil · 1 year

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as someone who was a freshman in college in 2003-4, i don’t think i could ever explain to people what it was like to be on the internet when we had flash videos (because regular vid formats were too big) and ebaumsworld and weebl's stuff (but no YouTube!! not until 2005!, a decade before Vine) as the modern meme era began. it's hard to remember how much work we had to put into finding and sharing memes, the exact opposite of now when good content from every platform is reliably shared around and reposted on every other platform. but I'm going to try to explain it for posterity, so gather round, children, for some tales from an elder millennial

imagine this:

you're in your dorm room hiking up your low-rise jeans and a friend sticks their head in and calls you to their room (everyone still had PCs with enormous towers, no portability, this had changed by 2006 when people bought laptops for college) and you gather behind their desk while they open ebaumsworld and pull up a gloriously terribly edited, completely chaotic, short-form video. "Hokay, so, here is the earth, chilling," it says in an inscrutable accent. "What IS this?" you ask and your friend goes, "SHHHH!" "Damn, that is a sweet earth you might say. WRONG!" You watch the video forty times on repeat, laughing harder each time

A few days later you're the one calling your hallmates in because you've discovered a video (please note YouTube DID NOT EXIST, this was on Newgrounds.com, which I somehow do not even remember) of a kid your age from New Jersey dancing to a... Moldovan pop song no one has ever heard before? You watch it five hundred times until you know all his dance moves and still have no idea what the song is or who sings it, but you will die for this boy from NJ as he is now your favorite person on the planet and you can sing every word as best you can without knowing the language

you go home and your brother is like, "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN MAGICAL TREVOR?!?!?!" and your friend from another university is like "YOU HAVEN'T SEEN BADGER BADGER SNAAAAAAKE?!?!" and thus meme biodiversity is ensured

a few years later it looks like this: you log on Facebook, which you need a .edu email address from a select list of elite colleges to register for, and there's no news feed...the only thing that exists is your friend list and you can post things on your own or someone else's wall. There are no parents or businesses or celebrities or organizations on Facebook. People complain about their parents and professors with impunity and no worry of it ever getting back to them. Half your friends have a fake Facebook account masquerading as a professor or a fictional character or a statue on campus. On a friend's wall they've posted that they can't stop laughing at an early YouTube video of toddlers and before you know it, you've added "that reeeallly hurt Charlie, and it's still hurting" to your vernacular (this video was, at one point, the most watched yt video of all time and was sold recently as a fucking NFT, I wish I could watch my 2007 self learn and try to process this information)

and because this specific type of virality was still new but reliably shared in these ways, you could be pretty sure that everyone in your physical and digital orbits would know the same memes—but that no one in an older generation would have any clue, because of the way things were shared and structured. which is different from now, because our digital spaces are more siloed, because there's so much, so many memes, that my partner and I constantly reference memes that the other hasnt even heard of because meme uptake has to be limited just for functionality within different online spaces. To the point where we both had a gif for "Why not both?/both is good" but his was the taco commercial and mine was the road to el dorado and we literally live in the same house and have all the same irl experiences.

it's both similar to and completely different from the way we share and reference memes now

And now you're in your late thirties and you try to share these classics with your kids and they just look at them like that's the shittiest video I ever saw and you don't know how to explain to them that their admittedly much better quality memes literally wouldn't exist without these precursors but they just think you're lame forever

and you're like, "I'm going to go hang with Hawaii"

#y2k #early memes #aughts #the end of the world #numa numa #magical trevor #badger badger badger #Charlie bit me #millennials #internet oral history #lol

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saints-who-never-existed · 1 year

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Episode Four: Random Rewatch Observations

1. Shout out to Sophia and Lady Jane, sticking it to Barrow re: Arctic geography, how far the Admiralty’s messages have reached, and his general condescension.

2. Their breath is visible in the air as they’re leaving the Admiralty building and talking specifically about Sir John.

3. Jopson is hilarious even before his little innocent “Me, sir?” line when he first enters the scene saying “Sorry to interrupt!”. Like, yes, sorry to interrupt your busy schedule of sitting in the dark doing literally nothing, sir! Great stuff.

4. Also shout out to Little being very competent off-screen, already making plans to move Terrors over to Erebus before Crozier’s even thought about it.

5. Love Crozier just pissing directly in front of Jopson too – another obvious thing but it just makes me laugh.

6. I think I spy Little doing his patented Awkward Shoulder Pat of Comfort to someone as they all troop back onto the ship. He’s not in his slops a few moments later so it seems likely that it’s him and that he stayed behind to hold down the fort while they were out searching.

7. Another thing that’s been pointed out by others, but I love MacDonald’s annoyed table tapping – he’s so not in the mood.

8. “Look out for yourself.” “Oh, I will…”

Like, oh I bet you will, Hickey, sweetheart…

9. Just a thought but Hickey’s “Who’s that?!” when he finds Strong/Evans on watch strikes me as unique. I don’t know if they had specific phrases or codes to challenge and identify each other when on watch but all I’m saying is that it would make sense if they did and it would make sense for that to be another thing Hickey doesn’t know.

10. Extra-gruesome to note that the legs and the torso appear to be facing opposite directions.

11. How do we all feel about Hickey’s whole spiel in front of the Captains, and the fact that Manson and Hartnell stay completely silent throughout it? Do we think he’s outright lying or what? The idea of them interrupting Silna in her attempt to take control of Tuunbaq isn’t completely outlandish in and of itself, after all – she tries to do just that two episodes later - and surely if he’s just making it up completely then the other two would challenge that to try and save their own skins?

12. Also have to laugh at Goodsir’s helpful “Food…!” when he takes Silna some ‘dinner’. Like, I think she realises it’s food, Harry, she just thinks it’s bloody horrible (which it is!).

13. I am absolutely obsessed with how puffy they both look here. Look at their little sticky-out tum-tums! Silly little Weeble men.

#The Terrror #The Terror AMC #S01E04 #Punished as a Boy #Observations #Lady Jane Franklin #Sophia Cracroft #John Barrow #Thomas Jopson #Francis Crozier #Edward Little #Alexander MacDonald #Cornelius Hickey #Tom Hartnell #Magnus Manson #Harry Goodsir #John Irving #Again I apologies for tagging everyone #It will happen again

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ciaossu-imagines · 1 year

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And onto Class of the Titans! I think this is easily the worst ficlet I've ever written and I tried my best to proof it, as it was originally just a silly little bit of comfort fic I wrote for myself. Even though I'm not overly happy with it myself, I hope others will enjoy!

You groaned, trying to shift your body, squirming, and moving as much as you could. You just couldn’t seem to get comfortable, no matter what you did. Your legs curled up just the tiniest bit more, your hand rubbing small circles where it lay on your lower stomach.

Your periods were always bad, always hard to deal with, but this month seemed to be so incredibly hard. Your cramps were killer, you were headachy. You kept being so moody too and you felt horrible about it. You knew you’d been freaking out your friends, annoying them, being a complete and utter bitch to everyone. Even just yesterday, you’d ended up yelling at your boyfriend. Over absolutely nothing, over something so stupid and trivial. You’d yelled and thrown a fit and you’d told him to leave you alone, to go away and never talk to you again. You’d hated yourself the moment after you said it, though you’d stomped away. Within minutes, your mood had completely switched again, and you were sobbing as you walked home.

You hadn’t heard from him since then. There were no texts as normal; there were no calls. And because the pain was so incredibly bad today, you hadn’t gone to school either. You just couldn’t handle getting up and moving around, and you had spent the day just lying in bed, constantly checking your phone, the television turned on for noise, though you couldn’t even have said what was on. You were sore and in pain. You were hungry and had cravings up the wa-hoo. You were sad and upset and felt just like shit overall. It was just a no-good, very bad, terrible, awful couple of days.

It was while you were curled up there on your couch, hunkered under blankets, looking at your blank phone screen for what felt like the millionth time in under an hour, that the sound of your doorbell (a novelty buzzer that sounded like the Tardis landing that usually made you feel happy but only made you feel even worse now, thinking about all the nights spend with your boyfriend watching Doctor Who) made you jump a little, brought you out of your reverie. You struggled to stand up, tottering as you weebled your way towards the door.

“Coming…” you called weakly. Pulling the door open slowly, you were flabbergasted by what you saw on the other side. Your mouth dropped open, your eyes widened and you had to blink two, three times. You felt the urge to pinch your cheeks a bit, just to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“Herry?” you asked confused, staring up at the mountain of your boyfriend, who was grinning down at you, with arms full of plastic bags that he seemed to be holding out to you proudly.

“Hey y/n! I have takeout!”

“But…” you trailed off, so confused. “But I’d said…”

Herry just stood there, looking at you, head cocked to the side in a way that always let you know that he wasn’t quite understanding, cocked in a way that always made you smile because it reminded you of a cute puppy.

“There’s moo goo gai pan from Kwan’s…your favourite,” he said in a cajoling tone, holding out one of the bags closer towards you.

“But I was told you to leave me alone,” you said, your words coming out soft and weak and you winced as your stomach both rumbled and cramped, making you draw in on yourself.

The way his face feel, his whole body just kind of slumping, made you feel horrible.

“Oh…I didn’t think you were serious about that…I thought you were just upset about something I said or did…and then you weren’t in school, so I got worried…”

You gazed at him at wonder.

“I’m sorry,” you both said at the same time. A minute passed and then you both laughed, nervous laughter but it was still nice. You both kept insisting for a couple minutes that each other could go first, could talk first before silence settled again.

“I didn’t mean it,” you said softly. “I’m really glad you’re here…I don’t get why you have so many bags, but I’m so happy to see you.”

“It’s snacks of course! I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for, so I got all your favourites from all the take-out places we normally go to! Figured I’d cover all the bases,” Herry said, sounding really proud of himself. “Food always makes you feel happy, after all!”

You laughed. That was so like him. Stepping back, you let him into your house and in minutes, there were food packages upon food packages all over your coffee table, Doctor Who set to play the next episode on your television, and Herry had you curled up against him with your hot water bottle refilled and sitting on your stomach. God, you thought, you really did have the best boyfriend in the world and even during no-good, very bad, horrible weeks, he could make everything better.

#class of the titans #cott #ficlet #comfort fic #herry cott

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curiousb · 1 year

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The Brandon Family Album: Volume VI

Also back from uni, and moving in with her parents while she figures out her next steps, is Joanna. She’s getting reacquainted with the Sim world's most style-conscious dog Pixie.

And also catching up with her suspiciously long-lived womrat Weeble.

Joanna’s stats:

~ Sagittarius 8 / 2 / 6 / 3 / 6

~ Bookworm / Never Nude / Workaholic / Brooding / Unflirty

~ OTH: Film & Literature

~ Favourite Colour(s): Orange

~ Aspiration: Knowledge / Fortune

~ Turn-ons / -off: +Cultured / +Reserved / -Rebellious

~ Major: Mathematics (4.0) (well, all she did at uni was study...)

~ LTW: Raise a Wonder Child

Marianne could not be more proud of her three highly-educated daughters.

Christopher and Marianne host a little welcome-home family gathering for their youngest daughter, but introverted Joanna soon starts to feel rather overwhelmed...

so she slips away for a bit of quality time with girlfriend Hester.

Meanwhile, her sister Beth is not feeling too well. I wonder why? Surely it can’t be that her mum’s excellent cooking has disagreed with her!

The next morning, Joanna’s thoughts are full of Hester. It’s still quite early days for them, so who knows what the future might hold, but she’s enjoying the moment while it lasts.

#sims 2 #gameplay #merybury #christopher brandon #marianne dashwood #joanna brandon #beth brandon #pixie brandon #weeble the womrat #hester fairfax #brandon family

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missy-monster-lover · 2 years

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More to life, More to us

Rating: M for mature, mentions of rape, death, 18+ only.

Summary:

Isis was fifteen when she entered that government facility. She was nearly twenty-eight when she escaped. Years spent at the mercy of scientist, being injected with strange liquids, screaming bloody murder, and loosing child after child. She didn't know why she was suffering, but she did know one thing: her two living children could not grow up on this military base.

Vata was certain his brother had died at the hand of oomans. How could such a hunter succumb to such weak prey. He is bothered by talks from a recovery scout that his dear brother's corpse is being defiled by oomans. He lays his brother to rest, but what he finds is something he simply can't leave on Earth.

Notes:

So boom, new Yautja falling in love with a human fiction. New to the Fandom (thanks to Prey) but I'm not new to monster fucking. Story will have some dicey content but I will update tags as I need to. This is for fun, so don't take it to seriously. I hope you all enjoy because I know that I am.

Read on AO3

Red Light

Isis had always known from the moment she heard their heart beats, that they could not grow up here on this military base. Her children who she so affectionately named Malik and Kalisha, though to the scientist known only as 15-1a and 15-2a, both deserved better. She never got a chance to hold them, both were whisked away as soon as they were cut from her. She knew them though, and they knew her while in the womb, and that was all that mattered. When on her best behavior, she was allowed to view them through a small window from her cell. Allowed to watch them, but never to touch them. Her heart ached for them, but they had each other.

Isis laid on the cell floor watching her children as they played with the toys in the sterile white room. They were too young for the doctors to begin training, but they were given toys to play with. Mirrors, jungle gyms, and colored games to train their minds. She thought they looked weird at first when she saw them. Not sure why they looked so- so alien, odd coloring- skin dark gray with black markings, teeth that were razor sharp with small tusks, and their hair in dreads. She knew as black people their hair could dread naturally, however; the little itty bitty tendrils were odd. She often wondered if their hair felt like hers.

Kalisha was larger than her brother, more aggressive and vocal. The little girl often enjoyed Isis noted, to tackle the weeble wobble bear often. The small girl growled, and hissed at the toy. Her sharp nails leave scratch marks on the poor toy. Each time her green eyes were filled with unmistakable triumph.

Malik was softer than his sister. He stacked blocks and played with colored shape matching toys. He would often stare into the two way window. His green eyes watching, himself intently, and for a moment Isis wondered if her baby boy knew she was in the room next door. She knew it was not possible, as a moment later he would laugh at his reflection and run from it.

The door to the cell beeped and opened. Her time watching her children had come to a close. At the door stood her guard and scientist, both of them watching her closely.

"Come 15, it is time for new testing to be done." The scientist, Dr. Marta looked down at her holo-board. Tapping away on the screen the woman took another deep sigh. Since patient 15 had given birth a year and a half ago, the damn thing was harder to control. Corporal punishment could not be used, unless they took risk damaging her and her precious ovaries and body. The team was studying her and needed to make sure she could conceive again.

"Now 15, or your viewing privileges will be terminated." Dr. Marta's voice held venom. The soft click and hum of a stun-rod turned on. The guard had its orders to use only necessary force.

Taking a deep breath and standing to her feet Isis turned to the Doctor. "Aren't they growing so fast?" Isis spoke mostly to herself than the doctor.

Dr. Marta didn't speak. Instead her blue eyes lifted up to the two way mirror to see the children be gathered by her team. Their chubby legs kicking, the shrill sound of their laughter and baby babel. In all of her years she didn't think they would ever get closer to breeding super soldiers and yet they were. The inconvenience of losing test subject after test subject, years of data either gained or lost, all of it manifested into the birth of 15-1a and 15-2a. Hopefully within another year there would be a 15-1b and 15-2b. Dr. Marta then turned her eyes to 15.

The girl had been Isis before everything was stripped from her. She fought hard, and was their most difficult test subject, but over the years she became a constant simmer of rage. Always watching each person carefully, listening to every word spoken, aware almost like she was planning. What she was planning, well not a single person knew, but as long as she could lose the privilege of even seeing her offspring, she sat in quiet, simmering, rage filled silence.

Dr. Marta hummed before turning to leave. She didn't need to ponder on if the subjects were getting bigger, "Come we have a test to run."

Isis took one last look as her children were being taken away. Her heart ached, it clenched with both sadness and anger. She just knew she had to get them out, to see even a bit of sunlight. For them to feel the warmth of light on their skin, the cool breeze tickle their strange hair, to feel grass between their clawed toes. Even more so, Isis wanted to hold them. A thick two way mirror would simply not do for raising her children.

Vata had been surveilling the military base for just over two Earth days. His mask flickered between reading heat signatures of oomans, and the HUD map that his scouts had supplied him with. His body tense, like a spring pulled too tight, leaned forward to get a better view. Some males with guns patrolled, he counted at least thirty which was small. Clicking through the heat signatures setting again, he paused his scanning at the sight of two smaller silhouettes. They were being carried by oomans, but the heat map of their bodies were closer to that of a suckling.

Vata was…perplexed. That confusion however turned into disgust at the idea of there being sucklings trapped in a place such as this. He felt a rumble of a growl start in his chest, but he stamped it out before it could become a sound from his mouth. Instead he switched his display once more, deciding to attack. It was now or never, but the idea of storming the place and finding the disrespected remains of his hunt brother unnerved him.

Death was always a fact of life, the Black Hunter claimed those who died in hunts and during missions with honor. Hunters knew death intimately and often knew that to die during a hunt was the most honored way to pass over. The only dishonorable thing about Vota's death was that his body was not laid to rest properly.

The only thing that unnerved Vata greatly was being alone for good now. Vota was his other half, his brother both biologically and in hunting spirit. Their bearers had been great friends and carried them both at the same time. They shared a sire, and more often than not both had earned the wrath and annoyance of the sire. Mostly it was Vota, always getting them in trouble with the clan leader, playing tricks well until their final chiva. After they had crossed the threshold into adulthood, newly blooded and allowed to hunt and finally earn the rites to mating, Vota had changed. He began to act strangely after, running off on hunts at back water planets. Spending cycles at a time not returning messages, missing their annual hunts together. Vata worried that his brother was becoming bad blood, a dishonorable fall from grace that no male could recover from. He thought of the last hunt the two had gone on.

"Don’t you think it strange that we hu nt so much and mate so often but live lives that are stale?" Vota had spoken out loud.

The two of them were sitting watching the stars after a successful hunt. Vata looked over at him, polishing his newly acquired poison sylph* skull. It had taken three days to track down the scuttling beast and two hours to bring the hard shell beast down. Vata wanted its skull and tail to hang on his trophy wall. Vota had wanted to spend time on a dry arid planet.

Vata grumbled, "We live honorable lives, Vota."

"Yes, but do you ever crave more?" He pondered

"We are not learned ones with wisdom to understand such things."

"But…brother of mine, don't you ever question if there is more to life?"

Vata growled and looked at his brother full on. His dark green eyes glaring, "where is this coming from?" Never in his 600 years had he heard his brother say such maddening things.

Vota sat up and sighed, "no need to flare up. I'm just curious about your opinion. I'm of the mind that there is more to life than hunting and rutting and to sire more offspring…only for half of them to die in chiva."

"We are still young, only elders who are near the end of their lives and learned ones think of these things." He shook his head, his dreads swinging about his face gently. The warm air suddenly felt cool and clammy though his netting regulated his temperature.

Silence hung in the air. Vata stared at his brother, and studied him. His dark gray coloring had become darker over the years, maybe by the time he was 900, he would be the color of night. Females found his coloring appealing, some said that he was an incarnation of Centanu himself.

"I watch them, you know." Vota's sudden voice rang through the silence.

"Who?"

"Oomans…such short lifespans but that does not deter them from life."

This was starting to sound like a bad blood's thoughts. Vata didn't like it one bit. He always knew his younger brother was wistful and reckless, but this was new.

He continues "oomans are clever, they offer a great hunt if you find the right one. They live such short but full lives. I've watched them raise young, cry over death, and celebrate life. Yes there are some that suffer, there are some that are dishonorable, but all humans have fight in them. All of them and they fight for life and freedom and each other."

Vata growled and stood up "enough! You sound like a bad blood, stay away from that back water planet Vota."

Vata wished his brother had listened to him that day. Now he was dead and desecrated in a human lab.

The screams and gunfire rang out over the sound of alarms trilling. Red lights flashed, bathing everything in a blood glow. Vata extended his blades and cut through the humans. They were easy prey, all humans were, so it baffled him that his brother could fall to one. A bullet cut into his arm, but he paid it no mind as he ripped a soldier's head from his body. It was unnecessary, yes, but his rage was blinding as he followed his brother's scent. It was faint, covered by the smell of decay. He rounded a corner to see two great big metal doors. Kicking them in, he growled a growl that turned into a roar. In some type of glass stasis pod sat his brother. Frozen, his black skin a sickly gray coloring. Tubes were hooked to him, monitors beeped showing a weak heart beat.

He clicked through his HUD screens, quickly trying to do a scan. There was little hope, but maybe just maybe if he got him back to Yautja Prime he could be saved. The scan was quick the second he got the pod open. Green eyes met dull green eyes. The ringing of the alarms seemed distant.

"Vata" his brother's voice was strained and quiet.

"How do you live?" Vata wasted no second trying to figure out the primitive technology "what must keep you breathing?"

"Vata listen." Vato stretched his mandible wide in a hiss of pain. It was rare to see such a display. Shameful but neither cared. "They have revived me and taken me from Cetanu himself more times than I can count."

Vata switched his HUD screen to normal so that he could see his other half one last time. He didn't speak, afraid years of control on anger and emotions would slip. The upheaval of emotions in him was too great.

"Vata, she-", Vota coughed, the beeping on the monitors became weak. Suddenly there was no beeping of the monitors, just the sound of a long continuous beep trilling underneath the sound of the alarms.

The sound of gunfire drew his attention again. He would clear the area of all prey that he deemed dangerous. Fill his need for blood shed at the behest of his brother and burn the place to the ground!

He pulled his brother from the pod and set to work disposing of his body properly. 'May your hunts be successful always' he thought as the acidic liquid melted away the body. Shots rang out again as a robotic voice went on about a containment breach. Then there were more shots echoing down the halls.

Isis had acted quickly when the alarms had gone off. She wasted not an ounce of a second, her arm swung out and grabbed the shocked doctor by the collar. It was some lanky gray haired man, she head butted him. Pain shot through her forehead from the head butt. When the doctor hit the floor, she set to work ripping out the wires from her arm. They had been injecting her with some type of liquid, it burned going in. The last needle out of her arm, she got her clothing back on. White pants and a loose fitting shirt, she wasn't sure if it would be enough to protect her from the elements but she didn't care.

The door to the lab slid open when she waved the lanky gray man's badge in front of the keypad. The hallway looked hellish, blood and red lights with bodies on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she took off down the hallway towards the nursery. Isis was consumed with tunnel vision, the sound of blood rushing through her ears kept her going.

'I just have to get to them' she thought repeatedly. Her legs burned with each step, her nostrils flared to take in deep breaths. There were gunshots and screams. She rounded another corner, then another then finally she burst into the nursery like a bat out of Hell. Another gun shot rang out and pain shot through her arm. Standing in front of her was Dr. Marta. Both women didn't move at first, for a moment Isis pondered if she would make it to her before she shot her gun again. Dr. Marta stood in front of playpens, both women knew that as long as Marta stood there Isis wouldn't do anything rash.

"Now 15…" Dr. Marta aimed the gun, "let's be reasonable." Marta didn't want to kill this one, not this successful experiment.

"Isis." Isis cracked her neck to the side.

Dr. Marta frowned, "15-"

Whatever the bitch was going to say Isis didn't care as she charged her. The pain from the first bullet had subsided. She let out a screech that sounded no less than a demon calling for blood. Marta had shot off her gun two more times before she hit the ground, both shots hit Isis in the chest and stomach. There was a pained roar from Isis as she got her hands onto Marta's neck.

It was rage that raced through her blood as the two of them grappled for control of the gun and the fate of the other. The gun was knocked away towards the playpen. There was blood that leaked from Isis, but she ignored the pain in favor of gouging out the doctor's eyes. Marta screaming bloody murder and flailing, she managed to knock Isis off of her.

"You've blinded me!" Marta yelled as she scrambled to her feet. Her arms swung out in a panic as she screamed.

Isis quickly got up and tackled her again. She screamed as her nails dug into the woman. She bit flesh, tore at her face and maimed her. Bloody hands wrapped around Dr. Marta's throat, squeezing and bashing her head into the tiled ground. All the while Isis didn't stop screaming, the sound escaping from her was animalistic. Years of unadulterated rage seethed from each and every pore of her being. Each time Isis slammed the doctor into the floor, there was a sickening crunch and wet smack. Dark crimson blood splattered everywhere, landing on Isis's brown face and white clothing.

Suddenly Isis' blind rage halted at the sound of a cry. It pierced the wail of the alarms, and became heavier and frantic. She looked up from the now dead doctor and stared at her children. Both of them were awake and crying, fear in their eyes. Slowly she stood and placed a bloody hand onto Kalisha first, then over to Malik. It was her first time touching her children, first time seeing them face to face. No thick glass keeping them apart.

She was stunned at their cries, at their beauty, and at the reality that they didn't know her.

Isis looked down at herself to inspect her injuries, most of them had begun to heal to her astonishment! This had never happened before but she didn't question a miracle and instead got to work gathering her children. She picked up Kalisha first, and her blanket.

"Please let me remember how to do this." Isis swung the baby onto her back and leaned over. In her youth she recalled seeing one of her foster mothers wear her baby. She hastily tied Kalisha to her back and then did the same for Malik, except to her front with him facing her. It was not perfect but it would have to do. She grabbed the gun from the floor and took off out of the nursery. The children continued to scream and cry as she raced towards the exit.

"The experiment is trying to escape!" A voice shouted above the chaos of the sounds.

Isis slid around a corner almost slipping and falling in a rush. The adrenaline pumping through her, the sound of her babies crying, she was going crazy with fear! There was another gun shot followed by a scream and what sounded like a roar. She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of a silhouette. It was bathed in red light, red glowing eyes watched her.

She pushed on finding an emergency exit that was ripped off the hinges. She was almost free! The sound of gunfire continued to ring out behind her, the soldier's screams echoed, she could feel the pure terror right in her bones. That same terror was soon replaced with cool night air.

Her feet carried her into the tree line, it had been years since she felt grass, sticks, and dirt. It had been years since she felt fresh air on her skin. She grabbed onto a tree and stood there for a moment. Catching her breath as she knelt down. Kalisha and Malik had not stopped crying, they were going to attract more soldiers, she was sure of it.

"Please my babies, please, mommy has you." She bounced a bit on her toes trying to sooth them both. "Mommy is here, I am here, my loves."

Her eyes burned with tears that threatened to spill. She had gotten out, but where was she to go? She had been in that government building since the sweet age of fifteen. She had no known family, she was sure that they were going to be captured again.

"No." She whispered to herself, "I will kill you both and then myself first." She stood up, tiredness finally catching up with her. The darkness of the forest paired with its silence was spine-chilling. There was something in the dark with them. Her first thought was a bear, bobcat, anything stalking them. Checking to make sure the safety was off of the gun still, she trudged on. Her babies began to calm, their voice hoarse, cries dotted with hiccups. She placed her free hand that didn't hold the gun securely into Malik's hair. His hair felt warm, the itty bitty dreads were thick, it felt more alien than like her own soft hair. The action soothed him and he hugged onto her.

Isis's heart fluttered at the affection, her son sought warmth from her. Her daughter still whined though and hiccups with heavy breathing. Only the three of their breaths, and the sound of her feet in the dead leaves could be heard.

This silence was loud.

Whatever was stalking them was close.

---

Vata had followed the ooman female. He watched from the trees and kept his cloaking on, being careful of any twigs that could snap and give his position away. She had two pups tied to her, every few steps she would stop to readjust them. He clicked the zoom on his mask so that he could get a better view of them. What he saw almost made him choke on nothing, his brother's coloring on the pups, their hair that of a Yautja. He was looking at Yautja pups, and more than likely, these pups belonged to his brother. This changed things, made them more complicated. He simply couldn't leave them here.

The female stopped walking, altogether, she whipped around aiming the gun towards his direction. There was no way she could see him, it was impossible.

"I swear to God I will shoot!" She looked around uneasy. Though her voice was loud and assertive, he could scent the fear on her. Her eyes were narrowed as she searched the tree line. Slowly she backed up until she gently nudged up against a tree. The pups began whimpering, reacting to their bearer's voice.

Vata slowly and quietly dropped down from the tree a few feet away from her. She was still looking for him, or anything probably. He carefully typed away on his gauntlet, searching for the right intonation of what he wanted to say. Finding it and readying the few voice clips, he uncloaked himself.

"Don’t shoot" a female's voice rang out disrupting the silence.

Isis whipped her head back and forth, trying her best to find who had said those words. There was a shimmer before her as the same silhouette appeared before her. Red glowing eyes stared her down from about 10 feet away. This mass of muscle was huge, towering above her at least eight feet tall. The moon's light made it look like a demon and for a moment, Isis knew that was what it had to be.

She kept her gun aimed at it, "Don't come closer." She could barely hear herself over her own fear that raced through her.

"Help, please" another voice, a man this time came from the demon in front of her. "Let me help you." Another human voice

It took a tentative step towards her and she didn't hesitate to shoot a warning shot at its feet. The demon stopped, easily avoiding the bullet. They were at a stand still.

"Let me help you" the human voice echoed again.

Just at that moment however the sound of a helicopter could be heard. A searchlight appeared and then another one. Back up had come and they had to be looking for her. Isis looked at the demon, and then up towards the sky. She was trapped in a rock and a hard place. Her darling babies began to whimper and shift in their ties. Above them, the searchlights got closer.

The demon offers out its hand. The same voice clips echoing again.

Isis didn't hesitate to take it.

#yautja fanfiction #yautja #cross posted on ao3 #ao3 #Yautja #male monster x female reader #male Yautja x female reader

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fiftytwotwentytwo · 2 years

Text

Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone

Author: J.K. Rowling

Fantasy / Children - Middle Grade

Page Count: 309

How did I come across this book?:

I wanted to see what all the hype was about.

I feel like my age group may have been on the edge of becoming or not becoming Pot/PotterHeads... - but I truly don't recall anyone gushing over HP in school - my nephew did, but not my peers.

I do have one vivid memory tied to the Harry Potter - couple days before the first film was supposed to be released our local priests visited the nightly CCD classes and urged demanded us to boycott the movie - there was sooooo much that made this plea so lasting.

First, I'm not going to name names, but this person's actual last name was an adjective that was synonymous with "fun" - "being hip" and the speech was far from fun or hip.

Also, said priest - not knocking but pointing out - sweated profusely... I don't know why - hot itchy garments? Overactive sweat glands?? But anywhosel- the man looked like he had an SNL prop tucked underneath his hair because his brow was basted in sweat.

Now, juxtapose this with being in a Catholic Elementary classroom where you have a priest whose sprung a leak and is standing in front of a backdrop of student crafted scarecrows, jack-o-lanterns, cornucopias, and the ever so popular framed photo of Jesus teaching a youngster how to hit a fastball baseball. Again, it felt very SNL-elly.

And lastly, there was just one line that stood out - one line I've always remembered - he said buying a ticket or reading the book was like buying a train seat to hell - I found the analogy very appealing as I never ridden a train, but thought "Is a train really the fastest transport to hell"? Don't get me wrong - it definitely sounds scenic, but why not a plane or just simply have the Earth's crust gobble you up.

Anyways... I saw the movie opening weekend.

And I've seen all the movies and... I'm not really a fan - BUT - adhering to the age ol' adage, The Book was Better Than the Movie - I decided to see if the book could change my mind on the Harry Potter franchise.

I ended up purchasing a copy from Amazon because I did not want to possibly damage a friend's beloved copy.

Review:

I personally had a hard time diving into this book, but it did pick up a little steam once Harry got to Hogwarts.

The world building was great. The introduction to the main cast and side characters was also well done, but I am not sure how much the films filled in some gaps.

The book eventually became fast and easy read. But up until the last 40 pages/last two chapters - the book just seemed to have great moments and no rising crescendo - no anticipatory ascent of a roller coaster - it felt more like snapshots.

Once I hit those last two chapters I fell hard - I loved the action - but the last two chapters also had a few moments where I had to remind myself that this initial story was geared towards grade schoolers - moments like solving a logic puzzle (because wizards are not well known for logic - actual statement from the book) or having a huge locked door and leaving a "hidden" key in the room with a means of transport/tools to find the key.

The last chapters were winning me over - but - the last closing pages I felt cheated. A massive break in the action/battle - a fade to black - and our hero just randomly wakes up 3 days later???

I guess Rowling "appeases" the reader by having a 3rd party tell our hero how the fight ended through exposition and info dumps... but Muggle-Oh-Muggle - it was absolute theft.

So, was it a good book?

It was okay.

I bet if I read a copy as a grade schooler - maybe even an illustrated copy - I would have yielded to the fandom.

Will I read further into the series?

Yeah, I think I'd I check it out... I mean what else am I going to read on my Train to Hell?

Personal Rating: 5.5/10

Yearly Book Total: 42

Total Page Count: 15,355 pages

* Achievement Unlocked *

It Weebles... It Wobbles... It Won't Fall Do--

OH, Lordy It's Falling!

It Officially Fell!

Forty-Two Books High

But... We Must Rebuild:

Huzzah!

#52 in 22 #Harry Potter #Harry Potter and the Sorcerers Stone #j.k. rowling #book club #books #reading #page count #book review #Fantasy #grade school #Trains #public transportation

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greywoodrpg · 6 months

Text

𝕔𝕒𝕤𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕣𝕒 𝕓𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕤

she was born thirty-six years ago, is a werewolf, and lives in acacia heights as the owner of babbling brooks ranch, and is in the pack. she looks an awful lot like emmy rossum.

“I am a child of the stars and the moon, only they have the power to claim me, to dictate me, to keep me.”

Being born as the youngest of four and the only girl, one would think Cassandra Brookes would have grown up spoiled rotten. And she was, but no more or less than her three older brothers. The kids were all raised by their parents, Jack and Elena Brookes, with the help of their maternal grandmother, Sofia – affectionately called Bunny. Cass grew up on a ranch where her parents bred and trained horses (mostly Quarter Horses), so her entire childhood, and consequently her adult life, was a ‘horse-girl’ phase.

Despite being a ‘pureblood’ werewolf, Cass has never viewed herself as anything special. Elena’s parents had immigrated from Romania, leaving one of the most prominent packs when they were younger, before Elena was born, whereas Jack’s family and various packs had been in the Americas since the late 1800s. Their parents always made sure that the children knew and appreciated their roots, but they also made sure to instill a humbleness in them, reminding them that the circumstances of their births didn’t make them any better than anyone else. The men in the family had no desire to be alpha of the pack and had no problems falling in line when Ryden took over several years ago.

The hardest part of her life was when she received the news that her best friend, Amy, had died on one of her expeditions. Amy had been the one friend she’d gone through everything with – from their first crushes to their first acne – all of life’s landmarks, big and small. Knowing that her friend was gone, it felt like half of Cass had vanished. Thankfully, after several dark weeks, word came back that Amy had been found, changed. Cass was simultaneously overjoyed to know that Amy had returned, but she also worried for her friend and all that she’d gone through.

These days, Cass can be found helping her parents at their ranch or teaching riding lessons at her own place, Babbling Brookes. She also enjoys hanging out at The Den with her packmates and occasionally performing songs she’s written for the crowd.

“what power did she attain when settling in greywood?”

The mists of Greywood have given her telepathy. Having been born and raised in Greywood, Cass’s powers first manifested around puberty. It took her awhile, but she learned to control them well, building up a mental barrier to keep out other people’s thoughts. She has a strong moral compass which keeps her from ever wanting to pry into other minds, but after the dark events surrounding Halloween, she’s found that her control is very tenuous now. It comes and goes, and some days are worse than others. It’s hard for her to shut out other people’s thoughts now, and sometimes she gets overwhelmed by the chaos in her mind. Amy is the only one she’s told and is the only one who knows the full extent of Cass’s fear and distress, and the worry that she might never gain back the control she once held so confidently.

penned by... weeble

#town rp #mature rp #oc rp #supernatural rp #horror rp #literate rp #werewolf #emmy rossum fc #retired

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travelingturtles · 1 year

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And remember dear ones, if you’re reading this, the adventure begins at the bottom and you have to work your way up. Unless, someone knows how to turn it all around, then do let me know.

I’m sitting in my dear old friend’s sun room in Clinton, Connecticut. Could it be that I sat here almost seven months ago trying to decide whether or not to continue our journey home with Clifford? Time, as we all know, is so incredibly illusive. Time, when epic life changing events are staring you in the face, is bewildering. Last Oct, Sue dug a quarter out of jar and asked me to choose heads or tails. She said, “Heads you leave Clifford (our big red van) here and fly home, tails, you continue your journey.” When she flipped the coin, she didn’t show it to me but asked, “What do you hope it shows?” That was the moment I knew for certain and quickly made arrangements to park Clifford and fly home. Another dear friend graciously offered a spot on her property to park our van and gave Eddie and me a ride to the airport. The blessings of friends does not go unnoticed.

Flash back to early October: Eddie and I drive to Bennington College, my mother’s alma mater, and my sister calls to say that Mum’s in the hospital and they are recommending hospice. I call my mum and let her know where I am, that we are wandering around the campus, her campus, and trying to decipher where she may have parked her beat up old jalopy that she sold for a dollar to her brother, Alan, where she may have stolen away to make out with her old boyfriend, Gus, where her life as an adult began. Talking to her in that moment, I thought, she is the ever-ready-battery, she weebles and wobbles but will never fall down, she has come back from pneumonia and cat scratch fever and falls off of mopeds in Greece and too many trips to the emergency room than any of us can count. I also had a moment with her before we left on our journey where she said how much she loved me, that she may not make it until we return. I thought we had had “completion” and that would do. Thank goodness for quarters and perfect friends guiding you home.

I’ll leave the story of the five and a half precious weeks that I spent with Mum before she passed for a different time. This is after all “The Adventures of Clifford, the Big Red Van” and as much as Mum would have loved to have joined us on every one of the adventures we’ve taken, she’ll have to enjoy her journey through the DNA that I carry of her.

After reuniting with Clifford at Nancy’s house we found no rust, no rats, no mice or mold and one turn of the key and he started right up. Good Boy!

There’s nothing like being with an old friend of 49 years. Laughing and crying in equal measure, reminiscing and discussing and discovering new aspects of each other, opening up from where we left off and delighting in knowing that our friendship is still golden. And to have this occur with both Nancy and Sue is a gift beyond measure. Suffice to say that Eddie had to contend with lots and lots of gabbing.

After spending a few days walking on the beach at Sue’s, sharing time and stories and sea glass, Sue got many of our Byfield Bunch (Byfield Lane was where my family lived for 5 years) together for a reunion. We literally took a walk down memory lane, knocking on the doors of our old houses and introducing ourselves, a group of 7 sixty something year olds, to the inhabitants of our old digs. We learned that my old house was still occupied by the woman who purchased it 44 years ago and looked as old and in a state of disrepair as she did. She reminded me of the old lady in Princess Bride that lives in the tree with Miracle Max pronouncing Westley as “almost dead”. We learned that Sue’s house was torn down a long time ago, that the field behind John’s house, where we played flag football, was much smaller than we remembered and that the pond at Carole’s old house hasn’t frozen up enough for ice skating in years. Many shared memories of playing ice hockey, skinny dipping in other neighbors pools (even though we had a pool, the thrill of sneaking onto someone else’s property was much more fun), snow mobile rides on the golf course beyond the woods of Sue’s house, first joints puffed, wedgies at the bus stop for the more unfortunate, hitch hiking to school when we missed the bus, music jams and parties in Sue’s basement…. What a privileged childhood, minus the wedgies of course.

While with Nancy, I got to crash a reunion of a group of women (dubbed “the chain gang” in 6th grade by a teacher) that have been friends since grade school (I didn’t meet them until 7th grade). I hadn’t seen them for 47 years! Amazing how we get older and hopefully evolve, but at the core we are who we are who we are…. So special to have the opportunity to reconnect.

Nancy, Andy, Eddie and I took walks, played music, worked in their garden, talked politics and plants and all manner of experiences concerning our raising of our children and letting go of our parents who had been good friends when we were kids.

With sad farewells and the promise to see one another again soon, we departed and headed towards Gettysburg to feed Eddie’s childhood passion for all things Civil War. It so happens that my great great grandfather fought on both sides of the Civil War, first, reluctantly as a Rebel and then after being treed and convincing the Union army with his northern accent that he was indeed not a Confederate soldier despite his uniform, they conscripted him into the Union Army where he was eventually promoted to Colonel.

I’ll leave you here to ponder the past and hope you’ll return to read the next post of our adventure.

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hldailyupdate · 2 years

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He may have begun his career in a group that steadfastly refused to dance in a coordinated way, but it’s no secret now that Harry Styles has moves to spare — whether he’s shimmying and bouncing around a festival stage, executing stylized choreography reminiscent of classic movie musicals in 2021’s “Treat People With Kindness” video or, most recently, throwing himself into abstract partnering on a spinning turntable platform in the music video for his current hit “As It Was.”

Bourgeois — who came onto the “As It Was” creative team via video director Tanu Muino, but had also caught Styles’ attention previously with his work Fugue/Trampoline — has long worked with singers in Europe, but has increasingly become a collaborator of choice for a wider array of pop artists. In January, he oversaw theatrical direction of the late Virgil Abloh’s last Louis Vuitton show in Paris; he proposed the idea of the “weeble-wobble” structure used in Missy Elliott’s “Cool Off” music video; he recently choreographed and co-conceived the concept for Coldplay and Selena Gomez’s “Let Somebody Go” video; and he’s choreographed a yet-to-be-released fka twigs project.

Through a translator, Bourgeois spoke to Billboard about working with Styles on “As It Was” — and why he was “very nicely surprised” by the the singer’s talents.

Director Tanu Muino has said she was a fan of yours – was it she who brought you on for “As It Was”?

At first, it was Tanu who contacted me. I understood a bit later in the process that Harry knew my work also, but Tanu contacted me at the conception stage of the film, so quite early on. We spoke first of all about the meaning of the song, and Tanu, having watched a few videos of my work, spotted one device — what I call the turntable — that I’m working on, the spinning platform. It seemed to us it was a great device to work on with the meaning of the song. Since I’m always working with space, it’s always a bit more than just creating movement — I’m involved in the set design as well.

Tell me about that spinning platform and what it was like for Harry to work with it – it looks slippery and tough to negotiate!

We need to let the artist accustom themselves to the platform physically — it can be a bit disorienting. We had a few days with Harry, and he was actually very talented, and it seemed like Harry was having a lot of fun, so we kept in the music video a lot of the moments of playfulness from that. There were some very specific set and written choreography parts that were very precisely choreographed, but also “rules of the game” for Harry to play with and improvise upon. We kept both those principles in the music video.

What were those “rules of the game”?

These are very basic rules, but they make sense when you want to play a little bit with the idea of risk. So for example, it can be just to stay standing up on the platform as it spins faster and faster, or to try to escape from that platform as it is spinning. I feel like these rules summon a childish part of the performer each time. Something very pure.

That sense of playfulness is definitely something that comes across in Harry’s performances, whether onstage or in videos — and in your work, in general, as well. Did that feel like a quality you shared?

Yes. I really felt the same way about Harry — that common ground about playfulness. And that’s also the reason I create these devices. I want them to be not contemporary art forms, but machines to be played with. These devices generate something very alive within the performers, and that’s what I like. It generates this playfulness as well as being poetic.

What did you know of Harry as an artist, and particularly of his movement ability, before working on this video with him?

Of course I knew Harry as a musician, but also as a very highly-skilled performer. What I particularly liked is, I feel like Harry is a little bit… he deviates from [tradition] with a lot of subtlety. I really enjoy that about him. I’ve collaborated with a lot of music artists, and I was very nicely surprised by Harry’s capacities. Since the first seconds of working with him, I felt a lot of joy from Harry working on this experiment. I was very, very happy to see that.

What was it about “As It Was” in particular that made this feel this was a project you wanted to be part of?

For me, the song is full of paradox. It carries a lot of energy and a kind of joy, and somehow still it carries nostalgia. It’s about trying to free ourselves from what links us to the past, from what locks us up maybe in a loop. So that’s why I decided to work with this simple disc that spins very fast, where everything comes back to the same place. It resonates with the lyrics.

I think some things are bigger than us and as humans we don’t choose everything, we don’t initiate all movement ourselves, we have to deal with a lot of things [we can’t control]. These devices also show the interaction with everything that surrounds us — really, invisible forces, but my aim is to make them visible so we are able to perceive them.

What was your work process like with Harry?

When I arrived, I was slightly afraid because I obviously want the process to go well and to get along with Harry, and that goes both ways. But what’s great is when you bring a big toy like the turntable, it puts everybody in a playful mood. So, for me the relationship is first of all to propose to play. It’s also a strategy, because it would be a bit difficult to come from a blank page and try to write everything with Harry in such a short time. So to establish a common game, we share something from the beginning. We meet as players, and for me to be a player isn’t nothing – it’s a relationship ideal.

Of course we had different scenes to work on. Two of them were quite easy to agree on with Tanu and Harry, and two others – the dance improvisation at the end, and everything that happens on the turntable – those required a little bit of rehearsal. It was specifically challenging because the [dance] partner Harry was working with throughout the rehearsal period was unable to perform the day of the shoot, so we had to replace her the day of the shoot. Mathilde Lin, who is in the video, had to learn everything the day of, and she did an amazing job. I’d never worked with her before, but I’d heard about her – she’s a very multi-skilled contemporary dancer.

Do you know why Harry liked your work, what he had seen of it before? I don’t know why Harry liked it, but I knew Harry discovered it through a dance I performed myself with a trampoline on some stairs. He saw that on video, it’s called Fugue/Trampoline.

(26 April 2022)

#harry styles #harry update #yoann bourgeois #article #billboard #april 2022

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sca-nerd · 3 years

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Because we haven't been having regular (or official) fight practices, I have had to find other means of exercise so that I will be able to fit into my armor (and garb) when I return to full-time eventing.

I decided that it was a good idea to do the Couch to 5k. Why? Because I hate myself.

I hate running. I don't run to the bathroom. Some people say they will only run if something is chasing them. I won't even run THEN. If something wants me that badly, then it can have me. But somehow, I decided that this was what I was going to do.

In 100+ heat index. In 97% humidity. In mosquito swarms. In the South.

Have I managed to run any of it? Yes. If you can call my glorified powerwalking actual running. The spirit of a 90's Mall Powerwalker lives on in my stride. Today it was storming, so I decided to use the treadmill in the fitness center of my complex. This was what I really didn't want to do, because I don't want people watching me run.

I run like a weeble wobble. You know those carnival games with the little figures outlined in fur that you have to knock down to win the prize? Yeah, that's what I look like when I run. I don't need anyone watching me looking like that. So I figured I would go right after work. It's Friday. It's 5:45. Who is going to be at the gym?

Me and some guy on the bike.

I would like to apologize to that gentleman for the horror I am sure he had to endure. To make up for it, I used the weight machines for a few reps. I haven't been shooting, either, and I don't want to be back at square one when I can finally get back to the archery range. That, at least, didn't look like a carnival nightmare, and I even pressed more than he did. Not that it was a competition (it totally was).

The things we do for our hobby, y'all.

#MySCA #SCA #society for creative anachronism #fighting shape #C25k #weeble wobble #next time I'll just put up with the mosquitos

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dcbbw · 4 years

Note

Would you ever write - Au Romance - Liam telling Riley the truth about his family ?

AHHHHHHHH, @mom2000aggie, I LOVE YOU! I have been missing my toxic, unhealthy babies and this ask is perfect for bits and pieces I had floating around in my head that didn’t fit into the series (which I plan to return to soon).

I know it was supposed to be a yes or no answer, but I’m feeling extra tonight.

This is a complete standalone set in my UnRomance AU and is NSFW—LIKE A LOT. AND BONDAGE.

There were pre-readers in part, but not calling anyone out. I know who you are, you know who you are. THANK YOU and I love you!

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspiration: All Night, Marika Hackman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZE3l9Ju9QA

“What do you want to do tonight, Riley?”

Liam’s face wears a slightly bored expression, but there is a smirk on his face and his eyes hold curiosity. We are in the bedroom; a standing lamp in a far corner of the room is lit, spilling yellowish light into the space. The blackout curtains are drawn tightly. Music plays in the background; I know the genre is British punk, but I don’t recognize the song.

He sits on the edge of the bed, tapping ash from his lit cigarette into the crystal ashtray that is placed beside him. The fingers of his free hand absently pull and pinch one of my nipples.

Liam is naked.

As am I.

I am lying on my back across the bed. My legs are widely spread, and my wrists are bound to my calves by heavy rope. My sex and my buttocks are displayed for Liam to do with as he pleases. Ten minutes ago, he had worked a butt plug into my asshole.

Now it is my turn to entertain us.

This is what we do on Friday nights. Date night.

My eyes stare up at the spotless ceiling as I think; after a few moments I answer him.

“I want to play Truth,” I say in a low but steady voice, turning my head to face him.

Silence as he drags on his cigarette. The tip glows orange as our eyes meet. His narrow slightly.

“Tell me the rules of this Truth you speak of.” Smoke exhales from his lips and nostrils.

I swallow heavily. I feel the burn of the rope against my skin, the weight of the plug in my most secret of holes. “We each ask a question. The other person must answer truthfully.”

He grinds what is left of the cigarette out into the ashtray. With a last look at me, he stands and leaves the room. I listen to his footsteps fade down the hall, and I feel disappointment. But he returns shortly with a tumbler of scotch, cream soda, and ice. He lifts his eyebrow when our gazes lock.

He sets the tumbler on the coaster that sits on the nightstand and climbs onto the bed. He gently pushes me up into a sitting position; I make a face as I feel the butt plug invade me further. Liam notices.

“Deep breaths,” he advises.

I know better than to ask him to remove it. Instead, I watch him leave the bed and retrieve the glass; he holds it to my lips, urging me to drink. I do. He takes a swallow, and then pushes me backwards on the bed. I tip over like a weeble-wobble toy.

“No more than three questions; the responder has two minutes max to answer. Not per question … two minutes, Riley.”

“Okay,” I say softly.

“I ask my question first. And we never speak of what we tell each other. The first person who does that has effectively called ‘stop’. On all of this.”

I nod in understanding. I look over when I feel the mattress shift with his weight. The ashtray is gone; I assume it is on the floor. He holds his phone before my face. He has the timer set for two minutes. Again, I nod, this time in agreement. With a smug smile, he asks his question.

“Tell me about your first time.” And he presses the start button.

I close my eyes. “I was 16; it was with a guy in my ROTC class. His name was Steve Young. His nickname was Cowboy.”

I hear the impatient sigh Liam exhales. He doesn’t want specifics about that. I resume my story quickly.

“We were in the gym, it was after basketball practice. We had made out before but had never gone all the way.”

“What were you wearing?” Liam interrupts.

I answer immediately because I remember the outfit vividly. “A white shirt with a Peter Pan collar, a red plaid skirt with the one of those oversized brass safety pins, and white knee socks.”

“Continue,” he commands in a raspy voice.

“We kissed a little, and he took my hand and put it on his crotch. He was hard.”

“Did you touch him the way I’m touching myself?”

I open my eyes and look over at Liam. His hand is fisted around his dick; I see the head leak pre-cum as his hand slowly slides and twists along his length.

“No,” I say with a tinge of regret. “I didn’t know how.”

“What do you remember most about it?”

“Thinking I peed myself when I had an orgasm.”

The timer beeps, and Liam’s hand releases his dick; it’s ramrod straight.

He resets the timer, again showing me. I bite my bottom lip while I try to think of my questions. He looks at me expectantly. “Well? This was your idea, Riley,” he reminds me.

“I know your mother is dead, but what of your father? And who is Leo?”

I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. His jaw tightens and his eyes grow even darker if that’s possible, but he presses start on the phone before positioning himself between my legs. His hands cover my breasts, his fingers kneading and squeezing the fatty flesh. His dick drives into me as he speaks.

“My mother is dead because my father murdered her when I was 15. He’s in prison. I don’t visit him, but I do send him money.”

His eyes are fixed on mine as he thrusts between his words. His rhythm is almost a staccato, his dick pushing and grinding against my walls. I feel my eyes widen at his words; they grow bigger when I see the look of rage cross his face.

“DON’T!” he yells angrily. “I don’t need your sympathy and I DON’T WANT your pity!”

His eyes are clouded, but I see the slight break in them. His gaze drops from mine as he focuses on his length slipping in and out of me. His hair flops against his forehead, and his breathing grows heavy. Finally he lifts his head so our eyes meet again.

“Leo is my half-brother. His mother abandoned him. When my mother died, he ran away. I give him money to feed his demons.”

He goes back to watching himself fuck me. My heart is breaking for him even as my center prepares to come for him. My eyes glance at the timer. I have 14 seconds left.

“I have one more question left.”

His eyes meet mine briefly. “No. You don’t.”

“Do you love me?” I whisper desperately.

His dick is punishing me now; the burns from the rope are beginning to sting. His hands grab my breasts tightly, his nails digging into my skin. I feel his seed spill into me as the timer goes off.

“Time’s up,” he says as he spurts the last of his orgasm into me.

Still sitting inside of me, he gently removes the butt plug, tossing it onto the floor. He pulls out of my sex and releases me from my bonds. I see angry red marks on my wrists; I feel them on my calves. Liam gives me a scornful look before rising from the bed.

I watch him as he grabs his glass of scotch and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

He does not return that night.

Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @hopefulmoonobject @amomentofsinclairity @ao719 @burnsoslow @marietrinmimi @annekebbphotography @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @forthebrokenheartedthings @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liyanin @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @sanchita012 @anotherbeingsworld @atha68 @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @starrystarrytrouble @liamandneca @liamrhysstalker2020 @alyssalauren @yourmajesty09 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @ritachacha @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @cordonianroyalty @bbrandy2002 @janezillow

#ns*w #tw bondage #dcbbw answers #would you ever ask #unromance au #this ain’t Cordonia

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lilylysanderscorpius · 3 years

Text

Lily stopped abruptly almost tripping over a step at the sound of her own name.

Then she heard the unsettling sound of her grandmother crying.

'We have to warn her Ginevra- did you not warn her about associating with his kind?' Molly lamented.

Lily frowned, her heart beating fast.

'Warn me about what?' she asked, stepping down the last few steps and into the kitchen.

There was a loud noise of paper rustling as Ginny immediately thrust whatever she and Molly had been looking at behind her back.

'Lily' Ginny's face went pale as she addressed her daughter.

Lily looked from her mother's face to her grandmother's. Molly Weasley looked as though someone had died; her face was stained with tears and her nose was running a little. Upon seeing Lily she let out another long, sorrowful wail.

Ginny looked at her mother with an exasperated expression before turning back to her daughter.

'Lily, we don't want to upset you. This could be a little… surprising'

'What is it?' Lily's voice rose and her chest heaved in trepidation. She'd never seen her grandmother so upset- at least not since James had vandalized her signed copy of 'Magical Me' by Gilderoy Lockhart.

Ginny looked her gravely in the eye and slowly took the magazine out from behind her back.

'We need to ask you if this is real' she said swallowing hard.

Lily looked down at the magazine in front of her. Splashed across the top were the words 'Witch Weekly' in large pink letters. But it was what was underneath those letters that made Lily's stomach flip and her entire body start to sweat. Her eyes widened, her lips parted and she let out a small whimper of shock.

Underneath those awful pink letters was a moving photograph- a very close up photograph of Scorpius.

Scorpius with his lips on her lips.

Scorpius with his hands on her neck and his thumbs brushing her cheeks affectionately.

And there she was kissing him back just as passionately.

Their faces took up the whole cover, every movement of their lips and flutter of their eyelids as they moved against each other clearly visible.

The colour drained from Lily's face and her hands shook violently. She looked up at her mother and grandmother with an expression of utter horror before instinctively turning on her heal and running back up the stairs.

'Lily! Lily wait!' Ginny yelled up after her with concern. Her calls were drowned out by the sound of Molly's distressed wails at the realization that Lily's reaction could mean only one thing; that photo was no fabrication.

Lily throttled back into her room and slammed the door shut behind her. She let herself fall back into the door and slid down it into a heap on the floor, breathing heavily.

Her mind raced. Witch weekly. The cover of witch weekly. How many people would see it? All of magical England? Perhaps some of France and America too?

The thought made her feel suddenly nauseous.

Could she stop it? Get her mother to make a complaint to the editors; stop the sale of it?

But of course not- if her grandmother had it then it was already out there. Already printed. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of copies. Of that photo.

Lily gulped. That photo. Judging from the studs in Scorpius' ear and nose it had to have been taken when they kissed on Halloween. Her face burned, her entire body hot with embarrassment.

There was a loud thumping sound and Lily jumped, pulled out of her muddled thoughts. It was Ginny knocking on the door behind her.

'Lily- dear please come out. You- you're not in trouble. Of course you aren't- we just need to...need to figure this out' Ginny pleaded through the door.

Lily stayed silent. She didn't know what to say. What was there to say?

'You need to tell us what's going on with you and this Scorpius boy… just explain so that we can make sure there are no false rumors going around-'

Scorpius, Lily thought with a jolt. She had to warn him.

Lily hurriedly got up off the floor and ran forward to open the window and call for Weebles. He swooped up into her room and she immediately went about writing a short note to send Scorpius;

Our photograph is in Witch Weekly. My family's seen it. Be careful.

She didn't know how, or of what, he was supposed to be careful but in her current state of mind she couldn't think of anything else to say. She quickly attached the small piece of parchment to Weebles' leg and instructed him sternly to give it to Scorpius and Scorpius only.

As Lily watched Weebles fly off into the distance, she could still hear her mother pleading through the door.

She sighed deeply.

She would have to face this. There was no other way but to go back downstairs and explain. Lily gathered her wits about her, took a deep breath and opened the door.

Seeing the look of nervousness on her daughters face, Ginny silently pulled her into a tight hug.

'Come on' she said gently, giving Lily an encouraging smile. With an arm around her shoulders she led her downstairs to where Grandma Molly was still weeping in distress. Only now Grandpa Arthur was standing by her side looking incredibly uncomfortable as he tried to console her.

'Come now dear, don't cry, it's just a photograph… we'll figure this out' he mumbled, sounding stiff and terribly unconvincing.

Lily stopped in front of her grandparents and looked down at her hands, which she was twisting together nervously.

'It'll be alright dear' Ginny said, standing by her side and softly rubbing her shoulder.

Lily gingerly stepped forward and took her grandmothers hands in her own.

'Grandma- I know you might have heard some bad things about Scorpius's family- I know they weren't, well that they weren't on the right side in the war but-'

'Not on the right side? Not on the right side?!' Molly wailed incredulously. 'Lily, they were death eaters! Their lot are responsible for the rise of the dark lord! For the death of Teddy's dear parents- and of your grandparents! For the death of- of-'

Molly's lower lip trembled and she looked as though she might break at the seams from her grief. Arthur quickly put his hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed them as though hoping the physical act of holding her together would keep her together mentally too.

'-of my dear boy, your late uncle Fred' Molly finished with a heartbreaking sob.

Lily's gaze fell and she stared at the table, unable to face her grandmothers grief stricken eyes.

'I know that Grandma- I do' Lily whispered. She swallowed hard and forced herself to speak louder. 'But Scorpius- he has nothing to do with that. And he's a good person, if you had ever met him you would see that-'

'No my poor dear- you've been tricked!' Molly exclaimed, throwing her head back and looking at Lily with alarm. 'I know what their lot is like. I was at Hogwarts with his grandfather! Always seemed so charming, so handsome. A very popular boy that Lucius Malfoy. Fooled all the girls, he did- but he was rotten to the core-'

'Mum-' Ginny cut in quickly, putting a hand to Lily's shoulder again. 'Please, we can't jump to conclusions. None of us have ever even met the boy-'

But Ginny was interrupted by a loud knock at the front door. She let out a sigh and hurried off to open it. Moments later Ron's voice could be heard in the hallway getting louder and louder as he approached the kitchen.

'Ginny! There's something you need to see. Something terribly distressing I'm afraid. Quite shocking indeed. It concerns Lily-'

Ron stopped abruptly upon reaching the kitchen and finding himself face to face with a very annoyed looking Lily. He looked from her to Molly, who was still letting out loud, heaving sobs seated at the small breakfast table.

'Oh...' Ron exhaled awkwardly. 'Already seen this then?'

He held up a copy of Witch Weekly in one hand and Lily lunged forward to tear it out of his grasp so that she could get it out of everyone's line of vision. She threw it angrily in the sink and inexplicably caused a stream of water to burst out of the tap above drenching it.

'Lily! No magic outside of Hogwarts!' Ginny scolded her, hurrying forward with her wand out to stop the stream of water.

'Hey! That cost almost a whole Galleon you know-' Ron exclaimed but he swallowed the rest of his sentence upon seeing the death glare Ginny sent his way.

'A galleon you've just contributed to the magazine that is prying into my daughters private life!' she yelled at him.

'Well I didn't know you already had a copy...' Ron muttered sulkily.

Rose and Hugo peered awkwardly out from behind Ron who still stood frozen in the doorway. Upon seeing Lily, Rose pushed past her dad and ran over to throw an arm around her in comfort.

'I'm guessing you didn't get the 'talk' then' she whispered to Lily sympathetically as Ginny forced Ron down into one of the chairs next to Molly so that he could comfort her.

'What 'talk'?' Lily shot back in confusion.

'The 'no dating Scorpius Malfoy talk'' Rose hissed under her breath.

'I've heard it almost a million times. Dad gives it to me at the beginning of every semester'

Lily shook her head at the ridiculousness of it all. She'd never seen her uncle exchange even one word with Scorpius and yet he'd felt compelled to warn his daughter away from him. She looked over at her Uncle Ron with renewed annoyance. He sat with a comforting hand on Molly's back whispering to her.

'It's alright mum. Remember when Ginny went out with that twat Micheal Corner? That only lasted about three seconds…'

'But I LIKED Micheal Corner!' Molly exclaimed, missing Ron's point entirely.

'Who on earth is Micheal Corner?' James asked lazily from the doorway.

Lily shot around in alarm. She could see Albus standing behind him. The pair were in their good dress robes, ready for the dinner party. They both looked equally confused to see Grandma Molly in tears and everyone else standing around looking shell-shocked.

Lily ran over to the table to grab the other copy of Witch Weekly before her brothers could spy it, but just at that moment there was a tapping on the glass of the kitchen window. A large black raven was perched on the windowsill outside.

It took her a few moments to realize this was the raven that had delivered Scorpius's presents all those years ago when they had spent Christmas in the Room of Requirement.

Lily forgot about the magazine momentarily and ran instead to the window. She opened it up and held out a hand into which the bird dropped a small piece of folded parchment. Lily heard an outraged gargling noise come from behind her signaling that James had seen the magazine.

'LILY- WHAT? WHAT? WHAT- IS- THIS?' James spluttered loudly and stupidly in her direction.

Lily let out a sigh, closing her eyes. She still couldn't believe this was happening. She heard Albus muttering and tutting under his breath, seemingly unsurprised.

'Merlin Lily- I told you this would happen…'

Lily ignored them both and quickly opened up the folded parchment, hoping whatever Scorpius had to say about this sorry situation would somehow be comforting.

But she had no such luck.

Lily's eyes bulged and her heart thud upon reading the neat, cursive writing in front of her.

'No! No!' She exclaimed in despair.

Ginny rushed forward to see what was wrong as James continued to have a meltdown in the middle of their kitchen.

'SCORPIUS MALFOY? MALFOY? LILY WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING?'

'What is it dear?' Ginny asked hurriedly, taking the piece of parchment out of Lily's stunned hands to look. She looked down and gasped under her breath.

'Oh Merlin…'

The small piece of parchment read;

Don't worry- I'll come over and explain.

Lily looked up at her mother with a pained expression.

'He's coming here! Mum he's coming here-!'

Lily felt panic flood her veins. She did not want Scorpius to see her family like this.

'Yes, not such a good idea right now' Ginny agreed hastily. 'Perhaps owl him back and let him know now is not a good time. He's welcome of course some other time- after, well, after I've explained all this to your father-'

Lily's stomach clenched with dread; her father. He was still at the Ministry but the moment he came home he would find out. He would see it. That photo. In fact, maybe he already had.

'THE BOY WHO THREATENS PEOPLE WITH UNFORGIVABLE CURSES!? THE BOY WHO SPENDS ALL HIS TIME READING UP ON DARK MAGIC? YOU CHOSE TO SNOG THAT BOY?!'

James was still yelling in the middle of the kitchen and his descriptions of Scorpius were causing Grandma Molly to gasp in despair that her suspicions about his character had been confirmed.

'SHUT UP JAMES!' Ginny roared, sending the entire room into a tense silence.

Lily ignored them all and rushed around looking for a quill and ink.

She tried to find the right words to put it politely but in her current panicked state all she could think of was; Don't come. She lent on the kitchen bench and began to write, but her shaking hands caused her to blotch up the paper and need to start again several times.

'Lily hurry dear, he might be on his way…' Ginny said quietly beside her.

Lily took a few deep breaths, steadied her hand and went about writing;

Scorpius, please don't come. Now is not a good time.

She folded it up and held it out to Scorpius's raven. The bird just blinked back at her.

'Please take this to Scorpius and please hurry' she begged, willing the menacing looking creature to listen to her. The raven cocked it's head to the side before opening it's large, sharp beak to take her parchment.

To Lily's surprise it flapped its wings and flew not outside but inside. It shot past her stunned looking relatives and down the hallway towards the front door.

Lily rushed after it, a feeling of dread tugging at her heart. Just as the bird reached the end of the long, slender entranceway, the doorbell rang.

Lily skidded to a halt in front of the door. She groaned internally. It couldn't be. It truly couldn't be.

But it was.

She gingerly opened the door to find a very nervous looking Scorpius standing on the doorstep, wearing a pair of ripped black jeans, an old grey t-shirt and the dusty brown apron that he wore when helping his father with the shop. He must have come directly from Knockturn Ally and thus arrived so quickly. The raven immediately flew out and deposited the parchment into his hand.

'Lily-' he gasped as he took the parchment from the bird. He looked more stricken than Lily had ever seen him.

'I don't know how this happened- but I think we ought to explain this to your parents and-

Scorpius stopped suddenly and looked her up and down in surprise.

'You- you're dressed nicely' he noted looking at her dress robes.

He absentmindedly opened up the parchment and began to read as more words tumbled out of his mouth.

'Anyway I thought- I thought I should really help you explain seeing as how this is sort of my family's fault for being so notorious and all and- oh'

Having let the words on the parchment sink in, Scorpius's face became even paler.

'S-sorry. I'll- I'll go-' he spluttered turning around quickly and making to disappear as fast as he had appeared.

'No, Scorpius-!'

Lily rushed out and grabbed his wrist.

'You're welcome to come in Mr Malfoy'

Lily and Scorpius both turned quickly around at the sound of Ginny's voice. She was standing in the doorway looking much more together and calm than either of them, beckoning for them to come in.

'Go on. You've come all this way' Ginny said gently giving him a kind smile.

Scorpius looked at Lily's face to see if it was okay. Lily looked back at him blankly, her mind racing. This did not seem like a good idea.

This did not seem like a good idea at all.

https://m.fanfiction.net/s/12973166/100/

#lily potter #fanfiction #harry potter #scorpius malfoy #lily luna potter #scorily #lysander #scorpius #next generation #scorpius x lily

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carolina-bleus · 4 years

Photo

Daddy Days (Part III)

Judith

“Come on, Daddy. Let’s dance.” Judith tried to pull Rick from his recliner. “We have to practice.”

Rick looked over to his wife for help.

Michonne chuckled. “You heard our girl. You have to practice. So get up and get your groove on, Daddy.”

Ever since her Honey Bee troupe announced their Daddy-Daughter dance, Judith had been beside herself with excitement…and determination. She was excited to dress up and spend time with her daddy. But there was also going to be a dance contest with prizes given out and Judith was determined for them to win first place.

She’d carved out time every night for practice, or as Rick called it Baby Bootcamp. If she didn’t become a dancer, Rick was certain Judith would flourish as a drill sergeant.

“Alright, Daddy. I’ve found some more dances we could do. Look, this one just came out.”

Now on his feet, Rick stared at Judith’s phone as a teenage girl went through a series of arm and hip movements while a woman proclaimed herself to be a savage on the song playing in the background.

Rick shook his head. “Judith, I don’t know who you think is going to be doing those moves, but it certainly won’t be you or me. Where did you even learn about this, anyway? You’re nine-years-old.”

“Uh…that’s sort of my fault,” Michonne fessed up. “I was in our bedroom practicing the dance when Judith walked in,” Michonne cut her eyes at her daughter, “without knocking and saw me.”

“Why were you practicing the dance?” Rick asked.

Michonne shrugged. “I was trying to see if I still got it.”

Rick eyed his wife. “Well, if you wanted to know that, all you had to do was look in the mirror or ask me. You most definitely still got it. In fact, you never lost it and are getting more of it every day.”

“Daddy, be gross with Mama later, please,” Judith interrupted. “We have to practice for the dance now.”

Rick gave Michonne a wink and turned back to their exasperated daughter.

“Judith, we are doing a basic box step for the dance.”

“What about the dance contest? We have to come up with a routine.”

“How about the Cha Cha Slide or the Weeble?”

“The Wobble,” Michonne corrected.

“Yeah, the Wobble. Your mama taught me how to do those at our wedding.”

Judith looked at her mother and sighed. “We are so coming in last place.”

***

Night of the Daddy-Daughter dance…

“Carl, Andre…get in here,” Michonne called out. “Your sister is about to come down.”

The teen boys came into the hallway and stood next to their mother; phones ready.

“Alright, Judith. We’re ready, sweetie.”

Judith appeared at the top of the stairs with a huge smile. She made her way carefully down the stairs in her new dress and shoes. When she made it to the last step, Rick stepped forward and offered his hand.

“You look beautiful, Judith,” he said as he slipped a corsage on his daughter’s wrist.

“Thank you, Daddy. You look very handsome.”

“Why thank you. Your mama did a good job picking out our outfits, huh?”

“You look really nice, Jude,” Carl complimented.

“Yeah, you’ll be the prettiest girl at the dance,” Andre added.

Judith giggled her thanks to her brothers.

“You two do look amazing,” Michonne agreed. “Let’s take some pictures before you go.”

Father and daughter posed together as the rest of their family snapped pictures and took videos on their phones.

“Okay, let’s head out, Judith. We don’t want to miss our grand entrance.”

Each father and daughter pair would be introduced to start off the dance.

Michonne grabbed her car keys off a hallway table and handed them to her husband.

“Here you go. Make sure you bring both of my babies back without a scratch on them,” she joked.

Judith wanted to arrive at the dance in style, so Rick was driving Michonne’s Audi SUV for the evening.

Rick laughed and accepted the keys along with a kiss from his wife. “You and the boys have fun at the movies tonight.”

“Carl’s driving…pray for us and the minivan.”

“I heard that!” Carl yelled from the den.

***

As they waited their turn to be introduced, Judith looked up at her dad.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m sorry for acting like a brat about the dance contest.”

“You weren’t acting like a brat.”

Judith cut her dad a look that she’d definitely learned from Michonne.

“Okay, you were a little bratty, but I know your heart was in the right place.”

“Well thank you for putting up with the dance practices and thank you for tonight.”

“You don’t have to thank me. You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you…even dancing in a contest. But you’ll be happy even if we don’t win tonight?”

“Yes. I realized getting to spend time with you is better than any prize we could win.”

“I feel the same way.” Rick saw the pair in front of them move forward. “Looks like we’re up.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Judith Grimes and her father, Rick.”

“Come on, sweetie. Let’s go show them how the Grimes’ do it.”

***

Rick was brought out of memories of the past by a nudge from Michonne.

“What is it, babe?”

Michonne nodded to Judith walking across the dance floor. “It’s almost your time to shine.”

Judith stopped in front of her parents and smiled.

“You ready, Daddy?”

“Sure am. We’ve been practicing. We’ve got this.”

Judith held out a hand. “Well, come on, Daddy. Let’s dance.”

With a nod of encouragement from his wife, Rick grabbed his daughter’s hand and waited.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s now time for the beautiful bride to dance with her father. Let’s welcome Judith and Papa Rick to the dance floor.”

Father and daughter walked to the middle of the cleared-out dance floor. As the opening notes of “I Hope You Dance” began to play and the pair started to dance, all Rick could see was Judith as a little girl again. He was so caught up in his memories that he almost missed his cue.

“Daddy, the music is about to change,” Judith whispered in his ear. “Let’s show everybody how the Grimes’ do it.”

Just then the song transitioned into an old tune that got the crowd on its feet.

I’m a savage…

Judith and Rick broke out into the routine that won them first place at their first Daddy-Daughter dance.

@richonnefics

Part I (Carl) Part II (Andre)

#papa rick #richonne

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kenzieam · 4 years

Text

Beauty and the Blackheart - Chapter One

@jewels2876 @moonbeambucky @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iammarylastar@captstefanbrandt @badassbaker @pinknerdpanda

I know I’m forgetting people, sorry. If you want in, hit me.

************************************************************************

Rating: M

Warnings: Language, general nuttiness, smut

Word Count: 2750+

************************************************************************

Okay, so……

Lev, the serious one, is visiting her wild-child twin brother, Clint. There she meets Bucky, a tall, dark, brooding mystery who’s her total opposite in every way. Of course, she’s intrigued even as her mind screams to run for safety, but what could go wrong, right??

***********************************************************************

As the seatbelt light shut off, Lev exhaled a deep breath and stood, pulling on her plain white button-down shirt to smooth the wrinkles and drew her backpack from the overhead compartment. Slinging it on her shoulder, she waited quietly to exit, grimacing faintly as a Karen behind her began to object loudly to the order, demanding she and her little darling exit first.

Lev agreed wholeheartedly, about to push the bitch out of the plane herself, boot her offspring out behind her, but held back, taking another deep breath.

Thankfully, no one else seemed inclined to indulge Karen and she subsided with a few indignant, unladylike sounds, falling into line with something resembling humility.

And, thankfully, Karen headed off in the opposite direction once they hit Arrivals. No doubt to find someone else to pay for her inconvenience.

Jesus, that was why she’d chosen Trauma medicine as her specialty, the situations were too life-and-death for such foolishness. Shaking it off, she raised on her tiptoes to see over the crowd, looking for a certain familiar face.

“Hey, Trouble!”

Lev startled, whirling. “Jesus, Clint!”

He laughed gleefully, killing himself and Lev fought a smile, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re a bastard.” She said, by way of greeting, which only added to Clint’s mirth. Still howling, he slung an arm around her neck, giving her a close-up view of his heavily tattooed forearm.

“I missed you,” he laughed, pressing a messy kiss to her hair, roughing it up just the way he knew she hated.

The perfect definition of ‘good twin/bad twin’, Clint and Lev were alike only in a shared birthdate and parents. Even from birth it was obvious they were polar opposites; the fair-haired little Clint wild and incorrigible, the darker Levka all seriousness and calm serenity. While Clint could rock and roll for hours past bedtime, infant Lev would settle right away, ignoring the antics of her slightly older brother as he weebled and wobbled the next crib over.

The dichotomy continued throughout their childhood, with Clint deciding to refer to his serious little sister as ‘Trouble’ entirely to illustrate just how ‘un-trouble-like’ she truly was, while he happily answered to anything she threw at him, up to and including ‘you little shit’.

“I missed you, too.” Lev admitted, fighting a grin; although complete opposites, they were inseparable, yin and yang all though their shared lives.

“C’mon.” Clint pulled her towards the luggage carousel, squinting at the rotating bags. “So, which plain black bag is yours?”

Lev made a face, just because he preferred shades electric didn’t make hers plain. Reaching for the familiar case she smirked when Clint whistled.

“Whew, a silver one? Who are you and what did you do with my baby sister?”

“Shut up,” Lev laughed, dropping the case unceremoniously in Clint’s arms, grinning when he grunted under the weight. “Take me home, I’m hungry.”

Clint rolled his eyes, jerking his chin in the right direction as he turned and walked away.

“So, how’s the life of a doctor?” Clint asked as they roared down the highway, perched high in his jacked-up pickup.

Lev grinned. “I’ve just finished my residency, I’m not a true doctor yet.”

“But you will be, soon?”

Lev nodded. “Yeah, I took a few months off but I’m pretty sure I’ll be working with Dr. Hawkins.”

“That ER guy? The one you trained under?”

“He’s the one.”

“What is it with you and that ER trauma stuff?”

“What is it with you and tattoos?” Lev shot back mildly. “You never even had a tattoo until you met Nat out here.”

Clint shrugged, glancing down at his fully inked arms. Ten years ago, when Lev had been heading directly to university after high school graduation, Clint had thrown a duffel bag into his old beat-up Camaro and gone on a road trip, no destination in mind, no real plans. After a while he’d met a similarly spirited woman named Natalie and, after a whole whirlwind week of romance, married her in her hometown city hall, calling afterwards to inform his family that he was surprise! married and moving in with his new wife.

If Clint had been anything less than a Tasmanian Devil all his life, this might have surprised his family, but his parents took the news in quite a blasé way, even laughing as they told Lev during their weekly check-ins.

While Lev had met her sister-in-law a few times in the decade since, it had always been when Clint had flown home to visit, and Lev happened to be home from school as well. She’d never gone out to visit her brother, and these few months after her residency had been the perfect time to remedy that.

“You going to let me give you a tattoo finally?” Clint asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Lev leveled a glare at him. “Are you any good?” It was a joke, and they both knew it. Despite having never touched a tattoo gun until after he’d married Nat, Clint had proved himself an absolute prodigy, joining Nat’s brother and his friend as an apprentice in the local parlour and quickly becoming a startling skilled artist.

Five years ago, that brother-in-law, his friend and Clint had all gotten together to open their own shop, Blackheart Ink and Body Mod, where you could get a wrist tattoo and a nipple piercing all in the same day.

“You know I am.”

“No.”

“C’mon, get a piercing at least.”

“No!”

“It doesn’t have to be visible-”

“Clinton Derrick Barton!”

“Levka Valentina! Or should I say Dr. Levka Valentina Barton!”

“Don’t,” Lev rolled her eyes. “I still say mom was high when she named me, you at least got something normal, which is ironic, since you’re anything but.”

“Love you, little sis.”

“Love you too, ass. Are you taking me to your place?”

“Nah, I thought we’d stop by the shop first.”

Lev hesitated, she felt dirty and wrinkled, always preferred meeting strangers looking her best.

“You look fine.” Clint deadpanned. “Stop worrying.”

Lev huffed at her infuriating brother, pulling down the visor to check herself in the mirror. Frowning, she pinched her cheeks for color, making Clint shake his head and chuckle. Running her fingers through her hair she contemplated grabbing some facial wipes from her backpack, but by then Clint was slowing down, flipping on his signal light.

“Here it is.” He announced proudly, pulling up in front of a large storefront. Painted black, with the shop’s name displayed prominently you would be hard to mistake this as anything but a black hole of debauchery and Clint grinned, elbowing Lev when he saw this in her eyes.

“You’re such a snob.” He teased, laughing.

“And you’re deranged.” Lev lobbed back, sticking out her tongue.

“Do that again and one of the guys will pierce it.” Clint snickered, yanking open the glass door. “Hey assholes, I’m back! Oh, hey Spider, didn’t know you were here, getting a touch up?” Instantly Clint integrated himself into his habitat, heightening the difference between him and his sister, who stood just inside, looking lost.

“Christ, baby. You could introduce her to everyone.” Nat scolded mildly, elbowing Clint as she passed. “Hey, honey. Welcome!” She opened her arms, gathering Lev into a tight hug, pulling back to grin at her. “You look great, Lev. How are you?”

“I’m good, Nat. Thanks. What about you.” Lev replied, grinning, almost stupidly grateful.

“Oh, getting by. These guys keep me busy.” Nat gestured over her shoulder with the flip of a wrist, which seemed to be some kind of signal for Clint and a tall blond holding a tattoo gun and leaning over whom she assumed was ‘Spider’ based on the giant Black Widow tattoo on his bald head, to start hooting like monkeys. Nat’s gesture morphed instantly into the bird, which she doubled by adding her other hand when she spun to face the men. “Oh, shut the hell up!” Glancing back at Lev she grinned fondly. “See, barbarians and fools.”

“Hey.” Spider protested with a grin.

“And bikers.” Nat teased back, taking Lev’s hand and pulling her nearer. “Lev, this is Spider, as I’m sure you’ve figured out.”

Lev offered a timid smile, received a crooked grin and wave back, one gold tooth glinting underneath a thick goatee.

“And this big dickhead is my brother, Steve.” Nat continued.

Steve pulled his attention away from Spider’s tattooed bicep and nodded, a surprisingly handsome smile lighting up his face. “Hi.” His deep voice was gentle, a startling contrast to his intimidating bulk, highlighted by a fitted tank top that hugged each muscle and showing miles of velvety, inked skin. A short crewcut showed off strong, clean-shaven features and his blue eyes sparkled with good humor. “So, you’re Clint’s twin sister. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Lev felt her cheeks warm; she could only imagine the stories Clint had told. “Oh, really?” She squeaked, flicking a glance at Clint, who grinned merrily back.

“Uh huh,” Steve turned his attention back to Spider’s arm, wiping carefully at a spot before speaking again. “He says you’re a doctor.”

“Yeah,” Clint broke in, slinging an arm around Lev’s neck. “She can take a look at that growth on your ass-”

“Clint!” Both Lev and Nat screeched, and he yelped as Nat connected with the back of his head.

Steve threw Clint a look, one of mild exasperation and brotherly tolerance before turning his blue eyes back to Lev. “I don’t have a growth on my ass, but maybe you can prescribe your brother some sort of heavy sedative.”

“Hey!”

Steve grinned at him, lessening the dig then winked at Lev. “Welcome, Lev. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Lev replied, feeling herself relax. He may have looked like a barbarian, as Nat had put it, but Steve seemed to be a kind soul, a genuinely benevolent person.

“I was wondering where you were hiding!” Clint suddenly shouted, pointing as if Elvis himself had just appeared from the back room. “Lev, this is the other third of the Blackheart team, Bucky.”

Lev turned at Clint’s direction and froze, her heart suddenly afflicted with tachycardia.

If she’d thought Steve was big, she was wrong, for Bucky was bigger still. Thick, corded muscles flexed as he paused, brow furrowing slightly as he seemed to be working out what Clint was babbling about. A thick but neatly trimmed beard obscured most of his face, while his chocolate brown hair brushed his shoulders and fell over a pair of startingly blue eyes.

He looks like he could pick me up and snap me in half, Lev thought shakily. She’d seen similar builds and musculature on heavyweight cage fighters, brought into the ER with some gruesome injury after their latest match and she couldn’t be sure if her pulse was racing in fear or something else entirely.

Bucky, the name didn’t belong on such a giant and Lev licked her lips nervously, feeling like she was standing in the entrance of a dark forest, able to hear a low growling from inside.

The silence in the shop was suddenly overwhelming to Lev, she could feel her heartbeat making ripples in the surrounding air and she stumbled to speak.

“Hi,” it came out little better than a squeak, broadcasting to everyone in the room that she was scared shitless of the newest arrival.

Piercing blue eyes locked on hers and a shadow passed through them, too fast for Lev to understand. He started moving again, lumbering to a workstation closer to where Lev, Clint and Nat stood. The padded stool groaned under his weight as he sat, setting a series of drawings on a light-up tabletop and he grunted, nodding once at her, before returning his attention to his papers.

“Okay,” if this was unusual, Clint gave no indication. “Let me show you around, kid.”

Lev followed obediently, saw Bucky glance up at her once as she passed, then look quickly back down and she hoped she didn’t stink from her plane ride.

In the back was a supply room, large break room and three private rooms. All three men, Clint explained, had a private room for quote ‘nervous’ customers or ‘intimate’ piercings, in addition to their spaces out in the front and the customer was free to choose where they wanted to be, however most decided to stay out front to be a part of the varied conversations that flowed like cheap beer.

“So, you all do body piercing too?” Lev clarified, eyeing a clearly sterilized and sealed tray in what Clint had said was Bucky’s room.

“Yeah,” he answered, peeking over her shoulder. “Bucky does the most of the three of us, but we all do a fair bit. Why, you thinking about one?” He elbowed her and snickered, then grabbed the side of her head and pressed a loud kiss to her temple. “Shit, I missed you little sis. It’s been too long!”

Lev agreed, for all their differences, there was nobody Lev loved more than her infuriating twin brother and smiled at him, leaning in for a quick hug.

Clint squeezed her bone-creakingly hard for a moment then released her. “You want to go? You’re probably tired.”

Relief washed over Lev, she’d kill for a shower and nap. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

“So….” Lev began, then wished she’d kept her damn mouth shut. Steve, Nat and Spider had bid her goodbye with friendly calls and waves, while Bucky had continued to glower, like a toad on a stump, Lev thought sourly and it had continued to bother her, even as they left Blackheart in the rear-view.

“So?” Clint asked leadingly, cocking a brow in question as he kept most of his attention on the road. The truck rumbled underneath them, the obligatory air freshener, in the iconic silhouette of a Trucker Girl, swinging from the rear-view mirror.

“Is Bucky always that talkative?” She gritted her teeth, hating herself instantly for asking. Clint could take this as anything from a dig at his friend’s personality to a thinly veiled show of interest and, with her luck, he’d assume the latter.

“Yeah….” Clint drew out the word, as if considering what to say next. “Just be careful around him, little sis.”

Lev jerked her head to stare at him. What was he talking about? Had he opened a business with a convicted murderer or something?

Clint chuckled, reading her horrified gaze correctly. “Nothing like that, kid. Buck’s just…. intense. He parties hard, lives hard. Nicest guy you’ll ever meet if you’re a friend, but I’ve never seen him with the same girl more than once or twice.”

Oh. That was crystal clear. Hands off.

“I didn’t-”

“No judgement,” Clint interrupted. “But we all know he’s a handsome guy and you wouldn’t be the first to get burned if you tried to touch him.”

Sometimes, a completely different side of Clint appeared; a stable, rational man and Lev knew better than to waste that guy’s wisdom by not listening the rare times he did surface.

“Don’t worry, though. He’s alright. He won’t, like, try anything with you. You’re not his type.”

“Oh, really?” The sand in the Sahara was wetter than Lev’s voice.

“Yeah,” Clint nodded, signalling to turn down a residential street, waiting until an old lady hobbled slowly through the crosswalk. Lowering the window, he leaned his head out. “You need a hand, Sylvia?”

Sylvia peered upwards to see the speaker then smiled. “No, dear boy. I’m fine. Thank you, though.”

Clint sat back upright, completing the turn and glanced sideways at Lev’s surprised look. “What? She’s a nice old lady, asks us to fix little things around her house, brings cookies by the shop.”

Lev grinned, warmed by her brother’s sudden display of heart then remembered their earlier conversation. “Not his type, huh?”

“Nah,” Clint took the change of subject easily, turning into the driveway of a modest little Craftsman. The only hint that someone like him lived there was a ‘Tattoo Gods Only Parking’ sign above the garage door. “You’re too buttoned-up, too serious. He dates girls that can twist cherry stems into knots with their tongues and deep throat like a porn-star.”

“Ewww!”

Clint shrugged before gesturing out the windshield. “We’re here!”

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