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paulo-pup · 3 years

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Task 5: Family

Describe your character’s biological family. Do they know their family? Were they raised by them?

Paulo is the middle child of Valentino (Val) and Isabella Martinez. He has an older brother, Valentino Jr (Tino) and a younger brother, Rafael. Tino and his wife, Hannah, have quintuplet teenagers--Valentina, Gabe, Angel, Maya, and Carlos. Paulo has an infant son, Paulo Jr, often affectionately called PJ. It is a large family, only made larger with many aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents still living in the Dominican Republic. Unfortunately, Paulo has never physically met any of them, though the power of video chatting has allowed him to finally get introduced. Largely, he’s only ever known his immediate family. He was raised by both of his parents, who are extremely loving and supportive of all of their children.

What was your character’s relationship like with their parents? Their siblings?

Paulo has a great relationship with his parents. They supported him completely growing up, often going to PTA meetings to fight anyone who had a problem, such as Paulo playing on the boys teams. When Paulo came out as trans, they were a little confused at first but open to learning. It didn’t take long for them to become Pride Parents, going to every pride event that followed. Individually, he is close to both of them but in different ways.

Looking at father and son, you’d be surprised to learn they were even related. While Paulo is extroverted and talkative, his father is quiet and thoughtful. In that regard, one might think they don’t get along but it is quite the opposite. Growing up, Val was Paulo’s safe space whenever he needed to get away or something was too overwhelming. He always gave him the ability to relax, unwind, and never pressured him to talk about what he was going through. Sometimes, they would just spend hours fixing up an old car and not even saying a word. Whenever he needs a moment to think, he always knows he can go to his Dad.

Meanwhile, it is very obvious that Paulo is the son of Isabella. She is where he inherited his joyfulness and zest for life. Get the two of them in a room together and it will be a non-stop whirlwind of barely intelligible Spanglish. Growing up, Isabella was always the one that Paulo went to if he needed advice. They would butt heads sometimes, as Paulo was a “tomboy” and his mother wished that he would’ve been more feminine, having no other daughters. She was the one who expressed the most disappointment at losing her “only girl”. But after some education and heartfelt exchanges, she came around completely and is now a proud mother of three wonderful sons.

There is a ten year age difference between Tino and Paulo, and a four year age difference between Paulo and Rafael. This uniquely shaped both of their relationships. In Paulo’s eyes, Tino was the perfect man. He was who he wanted to be when he grew up. In that regard, he was always following him around and bothering him, which a teenage Tino absolutely despised. Paulo was the definition of an annoying little brother and Tino wanted nothing to do with him for a long time. It wasn’t until he got to college and started growing up a little that he came to understand that Paulo only wanted his love, and so he gave it more freely. He was there for Paulo throughout all of his transition and encouraged him to do the things he loved, such as taking a history minor. In their adulthood, Tino has been Paulo’s rock, helping him every step of the way, especially now that he’s a father. Honestly, Paulo has no idea where he would be without his brother.

Out of all the children, Rafael is most like his father, introverted and shy. In that regard, Paulo was the one dragging Rafael around everywhere, helping him make friends and come out of his shell. Being closer in age, the two were more likely to have brotherly fights and sometimes had to be broken up. In the end, Paulo would always apologize (as he was usually the one who started it) and they’d make up in a jiffy. In their adulthood, they maintain a nice relationship. Rafael has accepted himself as a less outspoken being than his family members and is fine if he only sees and talks to them once or twice a week. Paulo loves to keep up with his life and catch up the few times they do get to talk.

Found family can be just as important, if not more important than a biological family. Describe your character’s found family, and what their found family means to them.

One might think that because Paulo has a large, close-knit, healthy biological family, that he would not need a found family. Not so! Paulo cherishes many people in his life and considers those who he loves his family.

First, there is the friend group that has been with him since the beginning. Michael, Donald, Godfrey, Minnie, Daisy, and Clara--these were the people he grew up with and know everything about him. He would do absolutely anything for any of them and although sometimes they are apart, their relationships never diminish. Michael especially is his closest friend, closer to him than his brothers and his lovers, with an intensity that he doesn’t fully understand yet.

Ollie is another who recently joined their found family. They have been a lifesaver in helping take care of PJ, and he genuinely loves having them around. More than that, though, he can tell how desperately they want a family and he wants to be able to provide that. He is always inviting them over to family events and has accidentally introduced them as his cousin several times.

Overall, how did the idea of family affect your character.

Family is everything to Paulo. It has been such a necessity in his life and is largely the reason he seems so well-adjusted compared to many other Redwood Hollow residents. Paulo feels genuine hurt for those who don’t have a family and will offer his own for those willing to be open to it. He thinks its so important for everyone to have a system of love and support and thus tries to provide that wherever he can.

Thinking about the future, do they want to make a family of their own? What would that look like to them?

Well, he already has his own family. He has PJ. And he would be perfectly fine if it was just him and PJ for the rest of his life. But secretly, he does wish he had a romantic partner. Specifically, he wishes that PJ’s biological father, Finn, would come back and help raise his son. At the current moment, he does not want to have anymore kids but if he was in a committed, lifelong relationship, he would definitely consider having more.

Family Template (in order of appearance, left -> right, top -> bottom)

Valentino Martinez (FC: Danny Pino) - Val was born in the Dominican Republic into a small, but loving family. He met the love of his life, Isabella, when he helped her with her broken car on the side of the road. It wasn’t long before the two were married. They stayed in the Dominican Republic long enough for Isabella to finish her studies before she got a job opportunity in the United States. They packed up their things and took the first flight to a small town called Redwood Hollow.

Val was always the more introverted of the two, only compounded by the fact that he was not very confident in his English. He got a job at the local auto shop and spent his life working there, in between raising his family as the couple began to have children. He is extremely devoted to his family, as he often feels isolated as an immigrant and doesn’t have many friends. He’s tried to teach his sons everything he knows, which according to himself, isn’t a lot. Very recently, he’s retired from his mechanic job and now spends his time with his two favorite hobbies: anime and guitar.

Isabella Martinez (FC: Karen Olivo) - Isabella was born in the Dominican Republic into a very large and boisterous family. She always had a hard time standing out and would thus overcompensate in order to get attention. She met the love of her life, Val, when he helped fix her broken car on the side of the road. She married him in between her university studies of history, where her professor used some connections in the States to get her a job offer. They packed up their things and took the first flight to a small town called Redwood Hollow.

Isabella was always the more extroverted of the two, going out of her way to talk to people and make friends. She got a job at as an administrative clerk at the Hill Family Factory, where she got close to many of the other workers. She was constantly inviting people over, throwing parties, and showing off her lovely children to anyone who would listen. Her fiery personality is a double edged sword, as she is quick to anger and very stubborn. You would want to be on her good side but you really would not want to be on her bad side. She is the matriarch of the Martinez clan and makes sure that everyone stays close, no matter where their lives take them. Every Sunday she hosts a family dinner, though it is open to anyone. One day, she dreams of retiring from her job and opening a doggie grooming boutique. There has never been a point in her life where she hasn’t had a dog, though she prefers smaller breeds.

Valentino Martinez Jr (FC: Carlos Penagava) - Tino is a born and bred Redwood Hollow citizen. He grew up thinking he was cooler than everyone else and spent far too much time trying to prove it. He felt he needed to get out of the Redwood Hollow dump and live in the big city. He went to college in Chicago, where his small town bubble burst and he started to see just how hard people’s lives could really be. He switched majors and joined his college’s medical school, where he trained to be a nurse. It was while he was in college that he met his future wife, Hannah Cooper. After they got married and graduated, the two decided they wanted to have a family and it was Tino who suggested they move back to Redwood Hollow to do so.

They got a little more than they bargained for. Expecting to have one child, maybe two, they instead found themselves with quintuplets. It was a good thing they returned to Redwood Hollow, as they needed the help of the full Martinez family to raise these kids. Tino used this time to reconnect with his family and was truly grateful for their help. Now that his kids are teenagers, he’s a little less frazzled trying to juggle his family and career. Still, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rafael Martinez (FC: Carlos Valdes) - Rafael is a born and bred Redwood Hollow citizen. He grew up mostly keeping to himself, too shy to make more than a handful of friends. He was a bookworm through and through, and often could be found in the corner of his mother’s social gatherings, ignoring everyone else.

The people that he most connected to were children. He is naturally good with kids and they bring out a different side of him that not a lot of people get to see. This was a huge help when it came to watching his nieces and nephews. He went to college to get his bachelor’s in education and has gone back to get his master’s for teaching. He knows he could get a job without it but he wants to be the absolute best teacher he can be in order to help every child (also a bigger salary doesn’t hurt). Especially with the quintuplets growing up, he really only sees his family for Sunday dinners and he’s fine with that. The love never diminishes from any side.

Hannah Martinez-Cooper (FC: Yael Grobglas) - Hannah was born in Chicago, though moved around most of her life due to her parent’s work. Once it was time to go off on her own, she decided to revisit her roots and found a place in the windy city, where she went to beauty school. She met Tino, and the rest was history. At first, she was resistant to moving to her husband’s hometown, but she agreed it would be better to raise a child there than in the city. What she wasn’t expecting was five children at once. In the end, she was very glad to have her husband’s family there to help.

Hannah is, for lack of a better word, basic. She works as a hairdresser at the local salon and asks you how your kids are doing. She is the type of person who has wooden “Live, Laugh, Love” and “Bless this Mess” signs all over her house. She has a wine glass with “Wine O’ Clock” etched into it which she drinks out of every night. She shares minion memes on Facebook. Despite all of this, the Martinez family has claimed her as one of their own and love her very much.

Valentina Martinez (FC: Isabela Merced) - Valentina is the first born of the Martinez quintuplets. She works hard to be the perfect child--getting good grades, volunteering, extracurricular activities, and a goal of becoming valedictorian. Much like her father before her, she thinks she needs to get out of Redwood Hollow and make a name for herself. Doing what? Everything, of course.

Gabriel Martinez (FC: Brandon Arreaga) - Gabe is the second born of the Martinez quintuplets. He is the class clown of the siblings and has used it to his advantage, becoming a TikTok star. He’s always posting comedy videos and prank videos, especially of his other siblings. At any given time you can find him looking at his phone.

Angel Martinez (FC: Ariela Barer) - Angel is the third born of the Martinez quintuplets. In the last year, they came out as non-binary, empowered by their uncle Paulo. They are the president of the Redwood Hollow GSA and will take any opportunity to school you on issues of social justice. They are Extremely Online and spend their free time writing My Hero Academia fanfiction.

Maya Martinez (FC: Emily Tosta) - Maya is the fourth born of the Martinez quintuplets. Following in her Uncle Paulo’s footsteps, she is a hardcore jock. She has tried every sport under the sun, though her favorites are hockey, lacrosse, and field hockey. Unlike Paulo, she is fine to play on the girl’s teams, as she really likes girls.

Carlos Martinez (FC: Ricky Garcia) - Carlos is the fifth born of the Martinez quintuplets. As the youngest, Carlos has a hard time trying to stand out, especially with the eccentric personalities of his siblings. He tends to fade in the background, which makes excellent angst and muse for his budding music career. He’s taking guitar lessons from his grandfather.

Paulo Martinez Jr - PJ is the son of Paulo Martinez and Finn Fischer. As a one year old, he doesn’t have much history but he is developing quite the personality. He’s a bright and curious kid, always looking to explore and put anything he can in his mouth. While he can get fussy easily, he’s just as easy to calm down with a quick distraction. He’s very sociable, open to be held by anyone, but watch out because he will pull your hair. His favorite toy is a little dog plushie and his favorite game to play is “I throw my toy and you give it back to me”. He has yet to say his first word but he will certainly babble your ear off. He is the crown jewel of the Martinez family and is beloved by all. This will surely not lead to a big head with age.

#happiestplacetask #happiestplacetask5 #headcanon #no trigger warnings because the martinez family is wholesome lmao

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lizk77 · 5 years

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Smitten

The Perfect Date

This story was based on a prompt from @begging-for-kamilah “The Perfect Date” for Joe and Tina. This is not the next chapter in the story, it actually occurs a little over a month into their relationship. After they had slept together but before “Snowed In”.

I almost had to post this a day late due to my procrastination. Hopefully the late hour of this posting doesn’t discourage people from reading it.

Warnings: this is erotica and is only suitable for adults over the age of 18. You have been warned.

Word count: 2483

You can read the rest of this series on my masterlist here.

Tagging: @kennaxval @indiacater @stopforamoment @cora-nova @innerpostmentality @missevabean @smalltalk88 @gardeningourmet

Excitement grew in the pit of her belly as Tina drove over the Skyway Bridge to meet Joe. She had never been to his place before. It was just about lunch time on a Monday and he had taken the day off work to plan what he described as the perfect date. She didn’t know anything about it, he had been weirdly secretive. He told her to dress in her best Steelers garb and meet him at his place. She had on her favorite jersey, number 36 for player Jerome Bettis, aka The Bus. Sure, he had been retired for many years, but he was still her favorite player of all time. She also had her black and gold Steelers hat on, her long ponytail pulled through the back. The look was topped off with a pair of Steelers logo earrings and a folded black and gold scarf around her neck. Tina shifted her eyes to the passenger seat next to her where her terrible towel sat. That was of course a must for any Steeler fan watching the game.

The Steelers were playing the Tampa Bay Buccaneers for Monday Night Football. Joe was born and raised in Tampa, so he was a die hard Bucs fan. She figured he planned to take her somewhere to watch the game, perhaps a sports bar. But she couldn’t get him to give her any information, eventually she stopped asking and just went with it.

After what seemed like forever, she pulled into his driveway. Her stomach fluttered as she turned off the ignition. She checked her face in the rear view mirror, grabbed her purse and terrible towel, and headed for the door. Tina smiled as Joe opened the door, decked out in just as much Bucs garb. He kissed her on the cheek. “You look great, despite all the black and gold,” he said as he playfully grabbed her butt and pulled her closer. She smiled up into his bedroom eyes. “Same, although you would look better in black and gold.” She leaned up and kissed him softly. He smiled at her then swatted her playfully on the butt. “Nope. Will never happen.”

“We’ll see. I have my ways,” she said with a smirk as she walked past him down the hall into the kitchen. She looked around at the open floor plan. The kitchen had a bar built in to the counter with three stools. It opened up into the living room, where Tina saw the biggest tv of her life. “Wow, that’s some tv!” Joe beamed with pride. “Well thank you. It’s necessary for watching the games.” She smiled slyly as she peered at him from the corner of her eye. “Is this where we’re watching the game?” Joe feigned confusion. “Absolutely not. What makes you think we are watching the game? Do you really think I’d plan our date around football?” Tina giggled at his attempt to act confused. “Yes, I think watching football would definitely be your idea of the perfect date. Plus we’re all dressed up in football garb.” Joe smiled slyly as he put his arms behind his back. “Ok, I just don’t think I can keep this secret any longer.” He pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to Tina.

Her eyes went wide as she grabbed two tickets from his hand. Her mouth dropped open as she read them. “Oh. My. God. Are you serious right now???” He smiled wide at her and nodded. “And check out the seats. Right on the 50-yard line.” Tina squealed and jumped into Joe’s arms, wrapping her arms around his neck. He leaned back against the counter to brace himself. She just couldn’t stop hugging his neck as she thought about watching a Steelers game live. This was so much more than the perfect date. This was fulfilling a lifelong dream. She blinked back the hot tears that stung the corners of her eyes. He pulled away and smiled at her. His smile faded when he saw her tears. “What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” Tina shook her head. “No,” she said in a shaky voice. “You did everything absolutely perfect. I’ve never been to a live game before. I’ve always wanted to go, but every time I had an opportunity it didn’t work out. How did you pull this off?” Joe shrugged as he smiled at her, wiping a single tear from her cheek with his thumb. “I’ve got connections, baby.” She laughed at him and handed him back the tickets. “You must. I can imagine it’s hard to score tickets to a Monday Night Football game, even if it is the crappy Bucs playing.”

Joe shot her a stern look. “Hey now. You could just stay here and watch the game on my huge tv. I’ll be sure to wave at you from my seats right at midfield.” Tina grinned playfully as she swatted his arm. “Ok, you win. No more comments about the crappy Bucs. At least not until we’re at the game. Deal?” He nodded. “Deal. I say we make a friendly wager.” Tina raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What exactly did you have in mind?” He smiled mischievously. “How about whoever’s team loses has to be the other person’s slave for the rest of the night?” Tina narrowed her eyes at Joe. “Slave huh? What kind of slave are we talking about here?” He smiled as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Whatever kind of slave we desire.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I don’t exactly feel like scrubbing your toilet and washing dishes tonight.” He laughed and squeezed her behind. He looked into her eyes lustfully and mumbled in a deep, sexy voice, “Don’t worry, what I have planned for you as my slave has nothing to do with cleaning.” He pressed his lips to hers as she smiled. “Don’t get ahead of yourself mister. First the crappy Bucs have to win.” They both laughed and pulled apart.

“Come on, let’s get going,” he said as he grabbed his keys off the counter. A look of confusion crossed her face as she glanced at the clock on the wall. “But it’s not even 2. Why so early?” Joe broke into a big smile. “You’ll see. Let’s go.” She followed him out to his Jeep.

Once they were on their way, Tina’s curiosity got the better of her. “Ok, spill it. Where are we going?” He shot her a quick sideways glance. “We’re going to the game.” She rolled her eyes at him. “I know, but the game doesn’t start for like 6 hours.” Joe smiled. “I want to make sure you get the whole experience of attending a live game. So we’re meeting some friends for tailgating.” Tina shifted her upper body towards him excitedly. “Tailgating? At the actual stadium?” He nodded in response and smiled big. She squealed, unable to contain her excitement. He laughed and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ve got all the required tailgating items back there. Lawn chairs, a grill and a cooler filled with food and drinks. We’re all set. Plus, you’ll get to meet a few of my friends.”

A few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of Raymond James Stadium in Tampa. Joe drove around until he spotted a red pick up truck and a blue SUV parked together in the corner. There were a few people milling around the vehicles, one was setting up chairs and tables. Joe pulled in next to the red truck and gave a friendly wave to his friends. Tina was suddenly nervous. She was a little shy, and it took her awhile to feel comfortable around new people. She bit her lower lip and looked out the window at Joe’s friends setting up.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Joe reached over and put his arm on Tina’s shoulder. She shook her head and smiled at him. “Nothing. I’m fine.” “You’re not fine. Spill it.” She sighed and dropped her gaze down into her lap. “I’m just a little nervous to meet your friends, that’s all.” He tilted her head up to meet her eyes and smiled at her. “Baby, you have nothing to worry about trust me. These people have already heard so much about you. I’m pretty sure they like you better than me. And they haven’t even met you yet.” Tina smiled sheepishly as he kissed her softly. “Let’s go.”

They got out of the Jeep and Joe laced his fingers with Tina’s as they walked over to the group. Everybody smiled as introductions were made. “Everyone, this is Tina. Tina, this is Greg and his wife Michelle.” A petite woman with blonde hair came over and wrapped her arms around Tina. “It is so good to meet you finally,” she said in a bubbly voice. Tina smiled at her warmly. “You too Michelle.” Greg stood behind his wife and extended his hand with a smile. She shook it as she looked up into his kind eyes. He towered over Michelle by at least a foot. Joe gestured to the other couple. “And this is Randy and his fiancée Jennifer.” Tina broke out into a wide grin as he shook Randy’s hand. He was the only other one in the group that was decked out in black and gold, with a terrible towel slung over his shoulder. “I see you finally found a woman with good taste Joe,” he said as he returned her grin. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only Steeler fan in the group.” Joe brought Tina’s hand to his lips, brushing her knuckles softly with his lips. “I’m gonna go unload the Jeep. Are you ok?” She nodded and smiled, already feeling much more at ease.

The guys went to help Joe and the girls offered Tina a beer and a chair. She accepted both. “Well I’m totally excited to get to know you Tina,” Jennifer said. Michelle nodded in agreement. “Joe has always been the eternal bachelor of our group. He’s dated girls here and there, but he has never been as smitten as he is with you.” Tina felt her cheeks grow hot. Jennifer nodded. “Yes his face just lights up at the mention of your name. You may tame him yet, Tina.” Joe walked up behind Tina and wrapped his arms around her neck. “Don’t believe anything these ladies tell you baby. I can’t be tamed.” He bent down and growled as he nipped at her neck. Then he whispered softly in her ear, “I’m wild for you.” Tina groaned and swatted him. “You’re so corny.”

The guys grilled burgers and hot dogs and everybody chatted happily as they got to know each other. Tina began to open up as she felt more comfortable. As game time grew closer, they started to pack everything up and headed into the stadium to find their seats.

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“Weeeee got a feeeeeeling! Pittsburgh’s going to the suuuuuuper Bowl!!!” Randy and Tina skipped hand in hand through the parking lot, waving their terrible towels in the air with their free hands. The Steelers had won 30-27. It was a great game, won by a field goal in the last 20 seconds of the game. The others rolled their eyes at their chant. “Don’t you think y’all are getting a bit ahead of yourself? It’s only week 3.” Tina released Randy’s hand and spun around. “Don’t mess with our mojo.” She narrowed her eyes at Joe. He smiled and ran up to her, picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder as she shrieked. Her arms flailed out behind him. “Help me!” She called out to the others, but they just laughed and shook their heads with their hands up in the air. “Come on, Randy. Help me out here.” He giggled. “No way. We all know when Joe throws a girl over his shoulder he means business.” She groaned.

He carried her all the way back to the Jeep before he set her down. “You’re gonna pay for that mister,” she said as she wagged a finger at him. He shrugged with a smile. “I ain’t scared.” They all said their goodbyes and hugged, then Joe opened the door for Tina to get in the Jeep. She climbed in and he shut the door then walked around to the other side. He barely had his door shut and Tina was in his lap, straddling him, kissing him passionately. They made out like teenagers until the windows fogged up. Tina could feel his hardening length beneath her and she ached to have him inside her. She kissed a trail from his lips across his cheek to his ear. She nibbled his earlobe softly and whispered, “I want you so bad.” She sat up to look him in the eye. His pupils were wide with lust as he massaged her ass. “I guess we should probably head home then.” She shook her head and pouted. “I’m not sure I can wait that long.”

He smiled and looked around, realizing the parking lot was almost empty. Could they really pull this off? “Take off your pants.” She shifted off of his lap just long enough to remove her pants, keeping them wrapped around one ankle. He undid his pants and freed his cock as she climbed back onto his lap. She lowered herself onto him, gasping as she felt him fill her. He groaned as she began bouncing in his lap. He grabbed her hips to help give her leverage.

“Oh baby you feel so good.” Joe’s breath hitched as he fought to pull himself back from the edge. She continued to grind into him and bounce on his cock, tension building at her core as she moaned and panted. Their eyes met and with a sexy smile Joe said, “Come for me baby. Come all over my cock.” That was all it took to push Tina over the edge. Feeling her walls flutter around him, Joe finished at the same time. Their foreheads pressed together as they rode their waves of passion. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as their breathing returned to normal. She smiled and kissed him softly, then climbed off his lap, pulled her pants up and sat back in the passenger seat. Joe fixed himself as well and sat there looking at her in amazement.

“So you liked the game, I take it?” She burst out laughing, swatting him with her terrible towel. “This was the perfect date. I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to top this.” He shot her a sideways glance as he started his Jeep. “Don’t ever underestimate me Tina. I plan to blow your mind and claim your heart.”

She smiled. He had already succeeded at both.

#smitten #pittsburgh #steelers #ns*w #my original characters #long post

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tessatechaitea · 5 years

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Team Titans #20

Is it sexist to point out cameltoe?

It's been about two weeks since I read a Team Titans comic book so I can't remember what was happening, which is probably a good thing. It's nice to see that my brain apparently has some kind of organic Roomba that cleans up after I've soiled my mind with terrible media choices. Revamping my old Patreon page has kept me away from re-reading terrible old comic books. If you enjoy my take on comic books perhaps you'll enjoy my take on The Bible? Or if you don't like reading astoundingly insightful and probably pretty funny commentary on The Bible if it costs you as little as one dollar per month, you can still bookmark the site because you'll get three free song reviews each week too! But if you want me to review a particular song, you'll have to give me money. I don't give my wisdom away for free! I mean, I do! But only in certain circumstances. I think what was happening in this comic book was a right-wing corporate and media conglomerate asshole (much like Rupert Murdoch) was preparing to time travel into the future where he could take the place of Lord Chaos and rule the world. It's the kind of plan only an idiotic super villain in a comic book could come up with. Any real life super villain would think, "I have so much money and power right now in a world I recognize, why should I risk everything by traveling into an unknown future where my biggest enemies await? Better to just buy a private island in the present and look at porn all day." But for some reason, comic book super villains are never satisfied. They never think, "I could retire with the amount of money it's going to cost me to create this death satellite!" The always think, "Man, having lots of money really kills your ambition. Maybe I should use it to endanger my freedom and possibly my life?" Idiots!

Based on these silhouettes, one of Lord Murdoch's henchman is just a gigantic sentient penis.

The Team Titans leader for the future narrates the big battle so maybe we'll soon find out who the mysterious leader really is! I think I've been guessing Terry Long throughout most of this re-read because who else could it be? Unless Terry's kid has one of those comic book experiences that ages him quickly, he probably won't be leading the team as a nine year old. Although I can't think why I'm ruling that out when I easily accepted Nightwing once driving a motorcycle straight up a skyscraper and Starfire falling in love with Wolfman-written Nightwing. A few pages into the battle, a bunch of Team Titans members (not from the titular and most important team!) begin to die. First killed is Gunsmoke. You might not remember Gunsmoke because Gunsmoke was a terrible name and Gunsmoke never did anything except help provide some context on the plot. We learned from Gunsmoke that the Team Titans were spread out all across history because the Team Titans leader created a truly inept time machine. Gunsmoke's last words (aside from "Arrrggghhhhh!") are "Great. Don't tell me y'all saved my butt in the Old West just so I can get it kicked in 1994." I guess in 1994, creating a character that's simply a guy dressed like a cowboy didn't cut the editor's mustard. The second character to die is Monsieur Poniard of Judge and Jury. He should thank his terrible name for cutting his comic book career short. "Mister Dagger," even in French, just isn't going to inspire the kind of terror that a super villain should inspire. And, yes, I'm aware of how many terribly mundane and crappy names exist within the DC Universe! I'm just saying, "One less is a good start." The third Team Titan to die is a nameless Titan in the background of Monsieur Poniard's death. She (or he) has orange hair and wears a purple costume so I think we can all agree why he (or she) had to die. You know, because Starfire already had claims on that terrible color combination. After Lazarium (Lord Murdoch's super villain name) takes down the main Team Titans in one blast, he jokes, "I love the smell of ozone in the morning." I know that's supposed to be a joke because he says, "Heh heh," immediately after. Earlier, Blue (unless it was Green or Purple or Yellow. Remember, the colorist of this current story arc is an idiot) quipped, "Yeah, and monkeys might fly outta my -- OOOOF!" So we have all the evidence we need that Jeff Jensen's main writing crutch is movie and television quotes. The fourth Team Titans to die is Two Gallon Hat.

I often come up with characters for my stories that I know are stupid but I insert them into it anyway simply so that other characters can call them stupid.

While all of the other Titans from throughout history are being slaughtered by Lazarium's henchmen (where did he get henchmen who put such effort into henchmanning?! I bet he pays a living wage, offers great health care choices, and provides a hefty pension), Mirage remains stuck in traffic on the streets below.

If only Mirage could easily do something to keep from being recognized!

I don't know what she did with Deathwing but I hope it involved a hedge clipper and a blender. Mirage steps out of the cab to find Cokie Walters staring at the corpse of Two Gallon Hat. Cokie apologizes for some reason which leads to Mirage threatening Cokie if she doesn't help Mirage save the Titans. Now how the hell is a bubble gum gossip reporter supposed to help with that?! "Mister Lazarium! Mister Lazarium! Is it true you pee through the gate instead of over the fence?!" Realizing that the Titans have met their match, Terra resorts to pleading her case: "Lazarium! No! Please — you can't just kill us like this!" Lazarium, who is a super villain who has really thought out his plan and understands the power of a truly great one-liner, replies smartly: "Oh, yes, I can, Terra — especially you!" I just got goosebumps reading that! Although after the Wayne's World and Apocalypse Now lines from earlier, maybe Jensen stole this retort from a movie too. Wasn't this the great line from the end of Die Hard 2: Dying Ain't My Thing when Bruce Willis sets the airplane fuel alight? Five hundred and thirty Titans got there asses handed to them by Lazarium and his goons. But not to worry because Prester Jon, Redwing, Battalion, Donna Troy, and just-out-of-a-coma Nightrider have arrived to save the day! And don't think they're going to do it silently! Battalion has a new battle cry that I can't believe didn't catch on with the youth of 1994.

How was this not one of the best selling DC posters of 1994?

Battalion goes down in one shot. Most of the characters will probably go down in one shot because Killowat will probably need to prove himself. Will saving the world from Lazarium be enough to make Mirage forget he's a racist jerk? Hopefully not! The first person to nearly put Lazarium down is called Liquid Joe. Being that he's called Liquid Joe, you know he's not going to wind up being the hero. His blast of slime doesn't even faze Lazarium. Time for Cokie and Mirage to save Killowat so Killowat can save the day! Cokie knows where Killowat has been restrained because she's a tabloid journalist. This was the era where we all believed Geraldo was going to discover the secret of the universe. Now we know Geraldo's only goal was to uplift Geraldo. That fucker will say anything for praise and a paycheck. I suppose you can say that about anybody who appears on Fox News though. After losing dozens of Titans, I have to admit that my plan would be to give Lazarium the time travel device so we could be rid of him. If he time travels into the future, he's not our problem anymore! Heck, he probably won't ever be our problem! The future no longer contains Lord Chaos so who knows what he's going to find in 2001. If in 1994 I were told that 2001 would be the beginning of some truly inspiring xenophobic bullshit masquerading as patriotism, I would have been all, "Yeah, I can buy that." Maybe that wasn't a good example. Killowat defeats all of Lazarium's henchmen with one push of a button. Then he goes after Lazarium. Lazarium believes he'll win for the same reason all bad guys (and Deathstork (who is a bad guy but sometimes people begin to think maybe he's a good guy who was never actually convicted of statutory rape so is it really rape? (Yes. The answer is yes. I'm answering on behalf of a large percentage of male Americans who would get the answer to this question wrong))) believe they'll win.

Technically it's not rape if you say, "Here! Take it!" I'm just judging by American legal standards which have an even lower bar than that to declare something isn't rape.

Killowat gives Lazarium a bunch of his power which causes Lazarium to overload and explode into a smoking scorch mark on the roof. But we can't believe Killowat has just killed somebody (even though his name depends on the idea that he kills) so he makes sure to think, "The overload couldn't have killed him. His corporeal form must be around here somewhere." Well, wherever Lazarium went, it's clear that this story is winding down, so he's technically defeated. But he would have been back if this comic book hadn't been cancelled in a few more issues! Oh wait! He's back a few pages later so Nightrider can feast on his blood. Now nobody has to worry about Lazarium anymore and nobody cares if Dagon murdered him because what's a vampire supposed to do? Not eat people?! Anyway, the time machine simply opens a black hole in the sky which consumes hundreds of the poorly named Team Titans. Preser Jon shuts it down and now the Titans have to deal with being part of 1994 forever. I mean, at least until the end of the year when they'll have to deal with being a part of 1995 forever. Or for a year, anyway. The final page of this issue reveals the leader and it's definitely not the leader anybody working on this comic book had planned it to be. Instead, it's Monarch because — guess what, motherfuckers?! — it's Zero Hour time! Team Titans #20 Rating: A-. I'm only giving it a high grade because this issue was the start of Zero Hour. Not that Zero Hour isn't a completely flawed premise that was just another gimmick to allow DC's editors to fix shit that the fangenders kept haranguing them on. But it is interesting that this terrible little Titans off-shoot comic book is where DC decided to begin the entire Zero Hour premise. My other favorite part of this is how we find out that Monarch is the Leader. My supposition is that Zero Hour was thought up long after The Leader was already a mysterious presence in this book. I'm sure the writers and editors of this book had an idea about who The Leader should be. Maybe it was Dick Grayson, or Terry Long, or Starfire, or a reintegrated Danny Chase. But it certainly wasn't Monarch which meant they changed the goal line as the story proceeded. Which is a microcosm of what happens during the Zero Hour event! It was obvious throughout much of Zero Hour that Captain Atom was going to wind up being Monarch. But since so many fans had guessed it and expected it, DC decided that instead of continuing with a plot and character arc that made sense, they would simply reveal that Monarch was Hawk. Sure, it was a surprise! But it didn't make any fucking sense. Fucking comic books!

#Team Titans #Teen Titans #DC Comics #Zero Hour #Comic Book Review

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ryukoishida · 6 years

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QZGS Rarepair Week 2018 | Day 4: Cooking | In which HST and ZZK are popular food vloggers.

QZGS Rarepair Week 2018 | Day 4: cooking / thunderstorm / battlefield

@qzgsrarepairweek

Title: Of Dumplings and Secret Admirers Fandom: The King’s Avatar / Quan Zhi Gao Shou Character(s)/Pairing(s): Zhou Zekai/Huang Shaotian (featuring Jiang Botao) Summary: In which the two food vloggers bond over their love of dumplings. Rating: PG A/N: Just a quick note – because there are so many types of “dumplings” in China, I will be using the Chinese names/pinyin to differentiate them! I’m craving xiao long bao now, btw. Damn.

Writing Commission | Editing & Translation Services

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“Speaking of dumplings, does anyone know the origin of this tasty, tasty food? No? Well, let me tell you this heart-warming story!” the young man in the video was talking with such enthusiasm that it was emanating from the brightness of his eyes and his excited hand gestures.

The video then shifted to a short animation of stilled drawings as he continued with the story.

“According to legend, during the end of Eastern Han dynasty, many people were sick and dying of epidemics, but there was a brilliant doctor named Zhang Zhongjing, who not only had excellent medical skills but also treated both the poor and the rich. So anyway, after he retired and returned to his hometown, he saw that many of the townsfolks were suffering from starvation and the cold, even their ears had become frozen and infected. That sounds absolutely nasty, doesn’t it? In order to treat them, he had his assistants cook a big pot of soup made with lamb meat, chili peppers, and medicinal herbs that helped deter cold. The cooked ingredients were then chopped up, wrapped with dough shaping them like ears, called “jiao er” — or “delicate ear”, and were cooked once more. After people ate them, their bodies quickly heated up, their blood circulation became more efficient, and their ears instantly felt warmer. And after eating these “jiao er” for a while, their infected ears were healed! Isn’t that amazing?”

The camera focused on the young man again, who now had a plate of what seemed to be boiled jiao zi in one of his hands. He carefully used a pair of chopsticks to pick up a dumpling, cooked to perfection with its delicate, ivory outer layer, and dipped it into red vinegar before taking a bite.

Some of the juices ran down the corner of his mouth, which he quickly wiped clean with the pad of his thumb while trying not to laugh.

“Mmn, that is a damn good dumpling,” he nodded appreciatively after eating the rest of that dumpling and continued with a sunny smile, “so for the next… hmm… few weeks, I’ll be making a series of videos completely focused on the best variations of dumplings that are popular in different parts of China, including several recipes and restaurant recommendations! I hope you’ll all be able to join me on this soulful dumpling-searching adventure! And remember: The Q&A live stream will take place tomorrow at 8 p.m., so have your questions all ready to go, and I’ll try to answer them as best as I can. Bye for now!”

Just as he did every time he finished watching Troubling Rain’s videos, Zhou Zekai clicked the ‘Like’ button at the bottom of the screen the moment the video ended and leaned back against his chair with a soft sigh.

“Xiao Zhou, you’re watching Troubling Rain’s channel again?” Jiang Botao asked from behind and leaned in a little to see the content of Zhou Zekai’s screen.

“Mn,” Zhou Zekai nodded once, probably not realizing that there was a hint of a smile hidden in the curved corner of his lips on his usually impassive face.

Though Jiang Botao saw the subtle expression, he knew better than to bring it up. After all, he and Zhou Zekai had been childhood friends since elementary school; now they attended the same university — though in different faculties — and rented an apartment complex together.

The smile, however, quickly disappeared as Zhou Zekai suddenly remembered something, and he turned his panic-stricken gaze towards his friend to speak with a soft but urgent tone, “Jiang, his Q&A tomorrow.”

“Ah, you said you have a group project tomorrow evening, right? Is the Q&A session happening around the same time?” Jiang Botao immediately comprehended Zhou Zekai’s concern despite the minimal number of words the dark-haired young man had spoken.

Ever since they were young, the adults had called Jiang Botao’s ability to understand Zhou Zekai’s intentions when others around him could barely grasp what the quiet-spoken boy meant “mindreading” when really, Jiang Botao just happened to be a person who paid special attention to other’s facial expressions and body language.

And perhaps there was something to be said for growing up together, but Jiang Botao never had any issues getting along with Zhou Zekai, who, to someone who’d never interacted with the boy, might appeared to be unfriendly, stuck-up, or even downright hostile just because of his placid nature and sparse explicit display of emotions.

When Zhou Zekai nodded in the affirmative, Jiang Botao basically knew what his friend wanted to ask of him, and so he continued with a knowing smile, “want me to record it for you?”

“Please,” Zhou Zekai’s gaze could only be described as grateful.

“As long as I get to keep the leftovers of whatever you’re making for your next video. It’s matcha green tea cookies, right?”

Zhou Zekai nodded again.

“Do you still need help with filming your next video, then? I have some time now, but I need to head out in two hours and won’t be back ‘til late tonight.” Other than best friend, schoolmate, and roommate, Jiang Botao was also Zhou Zekai’s voluntary cameraman for his vlogs.

Speaking of his vlogs and channel, one might think it strange that a quiet man like Zhou Zekai — though having been voted the handsomest male student in their university’s campus for three years straight — would want to be in front of the camera and be the focus of attention. It all started with Jiang Botao’s casual request that one time: one of his female friends wanted to learn how to make the strawberry cupcakes that Jiang Botao brought to school, so he asked his friend to make a video tutorial. What Zhou Zekai didn’t realize was that Jiang Botao had uploaded the tutorial onto the school’s online forum, and from there, the popularity of the “cute college boy baking cupcakes” video just spread like an uncontrollable wildfire.

There were tons of cooking videos on the Internet, but what made Zhou Zekai’s stood out, at least according to Jiang Botao, was the fact that he never spoke in his video — not even once; instead, he filled the silence with grainy, lighthearted jazz music in the background, which made the entire mood of the tutorial somewhat more… aesthetically-pleasing and intimate.

Zhou Zekai wasn’t sure what his best friend meant by that when he tried to explain to him the amazing reactions he was starting since the video was posted; he was just glad to help out. Baking and making sweets had always been Zhou Zekai’s favorite way to relax, and since he started learning by watching and helping his mother in the kitchen at a young age, his interest in the culinary arts had been carried on to his adulthood. Making professional-quality videos, however, was mostly Jiang Botao’s idea; Zhou Zekai just sort of followed along.

Besides, having Jiang Botao, one of the top students in their school’s multimedia design department, filming and editing his videos was the icing on the already very appetizing cake.

Zhou Zekai nodded again in response to Jiang Botao’s question, and the two men started to get to work. Soon, their shared apartment was filled with the gentle sweet scent of baked sweets.

It’d been about fifteen minutes into the Q&A live stream, and Huang Shaotian was having the time of his life answering his viewers’ questions, which ranged from actual queries about culinary skills and methods (“Best way to make the silkiest steamed egg custard? Oh man let me tell you how Mama Huang make hers. Usually you’d just mix water or broth with eggs and beat them and then pour the mixture directly into the utensil, right? Wrong! The most important step to achieving that silky smoothness of the custard is to use a fine mesh strainer while you’re pouring the mixture through — the smaller the holes are, the better! And then! Let it settle for a few minutes so any bubbles will rise to the surface, and then you can skim them off with a spoon. Voila — egg custard as smooth as a baby’s butt!”) to inquiries about his personal life and interests (“Do I have a girlfriend? Come on! I expect more creative questions from you guys! Anyway, I could have a boyfriend, couldn’t I? By asking that question, you have offended all the potential boys who could have been interested in me. Shame on you!” he said, and laughed at all the exclamation marks and colorful emoticons that followed his answer.).

One of the questions flashed by in the lively chat and Huang Shaotian caught it right away, his eyes flashing in excitement for a moment. “Oooh! Someone just asked whether or not I’d be interested in working with other vloggers again. Yes, I would as long as that person is not goddamn Lord Grim, who — if you missed the video that bastard had posted on his channel a while ago — almost murdered my taste buds. Just because I’m from Guangzhou doesn’t mean that he should take advantage of my intolerance of spice! So rude, so rude! Never again, nuh-uh!”

The viewers on the chat who knew what Huang Shaotian was referring to expressed their amusement of the hilarious aforementioned video, in which Lord Grim — real name Ye Xiu –who was a good friend of Huang Shaotian’s in real life, challenged the popular (both for the variety of his content and the cheerful chattiness of the vlogger himself) foodie to the notorious Fire Noodle Challenge.

Huang Shaotian had initially ignored him because he knew his stomach was sensitive to spicy foods in general, but him being him, he could never backdown from a challenge, especially when Ye Xiu was practically verbally rousing him up in all the right ways. In the end, Huang Shaotian realized belatedly that this — eating this insanely hot and spicy Korean ramen that had numbed his entire mouth and lips, the spiciness having exploded exponentially after Ye Xiu “helpfully” gave him a glass of water — was a mistake. Needless to say, he’d completely embarrassed himself in front of his audience in that video. At least most of them found it hysterical, and the rating and number of viewings had only increased.

“Other than that asshole friend of mine, who else would you like to see me collaborate with?”

The chat flooded with usernames; some he didn’t recognized while others he knew and were mutual followers of each other’s’ channels. One name did stand out amongst others: Cloud Piercer. Unbeknownst to his followers, Huang Shaotian was a bit of a fanboy of Cloud Piercer and his calming cooking videos and had started following his channel with his personal account some time ago. The vlogger rarely showed his face on his videos, and even when he did, it was mostly blurry so all that could be seen was his dark hair and the vague shape of his face, but just watching those elegant hands meticulously measuring ingredients and kneading dough was enough to make Huang Shaotian’s imagination wander at times.

“You guys want me to collaborate with Cloud Piercer?”

Lots of ‘!!!’s and variations of ‘yes’s’ flurried past the chat, which made Huang Shaotian grin because he’d finally found the perfect opportunity to approach the vlogger he’d been admiring from afar for far too long.

“I’ll try to contact them and go from there!”

And this was how two weeks later, Huang Shaotian travelled over 1,100 miles on the high-speed train and ended up in the city of Shanghai.

Their first meeting, which took place at the busy Hongqiao Railway Station, was an awkward one. Through the exchange of their emails in order to arrange this meet-up, Huang Shaotian would have never guessed that Cloud Piercer — or Zhou Zekai, as he soon found out the vlogger’s real name — was such a reserved individual. After a quick introduction, which involved a brief greeting and exchanging their real names, Zhou Zekai decidedly started walking in the front to let Jiang Botao do all the necessary talking. What Huang Shaotian missed — and Jiang Botao definitely caught from the corner of his eye — was the hint of blush that tainted Zhou Zekai’s cheeks right after they’d shaken hands.

Still, after that initial greeting, Zhou Zekai didn’t say anything more as they winded and dodged their way in between locals and tourists. Not that he was rude or cold or anything like that, Huang Shaotian observed while he allowed Zhou Zekai and Jiang Botao to lead him out of the station to get on the public transit, but when he tried to initiate a conversation, all he received from the dark-haired man was prolonged “……”, nodding, or shaking of his head, with the occasional nervous smiles that vanished whenever Huang Shaotian looked at him with genuine curiosity.

He glanced over to Jiang Botao, who was comparatively easier to communicate with and seemed like an amiable person overall, with silent plead in his eyes, as if he was asking, “what am I doing wrong? Why is your friend ignoring me? Why is this happening??? How do I talk to him???”

To that, Jiang Botao only chuckled in response and patted Huang Shaotian’s shoulder in consolation, “Xiao Zhou takes a longer time to get used to people he’s not familiar with. Don’t take it too personally. In fact…”

He paused and quickly checked to see if Zhou Zekai was looking at their direction before he leaned closer to Huang Shaotian and whispered covertly, “…he’s a huge fan of yours, actually.”

“No way! He is?” Huang Shaotian frowned in confusion, once more fixing his attention onto the man walking a few steps ahead of them. His frame was lean and tapered from the well-fitting jeans and black leather jacket he was donning, and at his full height, he was at least a few centimeters taller than him, which made the man slightly intimidating, even if he had the most dazzling ash-grey eyes and cheekbones sharp enough to shred paper-thin slices of prosciutto, but that had never stopped Huang Shaotian before.

“Sure is. So, imagine how surprised he was when he saw your email,” Jiang Botao continued, returning to walk beside his new acquaintance, “he could barely talk — he was that excited.”

“Huh,” Huang Shaotian made a non-committal sound and stared at the back of Zhou Zekai’s head. He wanted to say something like “you mean the guy’s capable of talking even less than this?” but he didn’t because that would be incredibly rude and he wanted to be on his best behavior during this short trip in Shanghai. It wasn’t as if he was trying to impress a certain someone… Oh, who the fuck was he trying to fool?

“Anyway, we were thinking that we’d let you rest during the afternoon, get something to eat together, and then start filming the first section tonight. We already have all the ingredients that you’ve requested prepared at our place. What do you think?”

“Sounds good!” Huang Shaotian’s grin returned, vibrant and infectious, and Jiang Botao could understand a bit what his best friend saw in Huang Shaotian despite his chattiness and almost too-cheerful persona that he presented in front of his audience in his vlogs.

“Hello everyone, this is Troubling Rain of the Blue Rain Eatery channel! Guess where I’m currently at? This is Cloud Piercer’s apartment! Can you believe it? Yeah, me neither. But as promised, the two of us are collaborating for the next two videos. This first one will be posted on my channel, where, with the assistance of the wonderful and beautiful Cloud Piercer, I’ll be making a Cantonese style-fried dumpling — gok jai. In the second video, Cloud Piercer, who’s born and raised in Shanghai, will take me to his favourite restaurant to try one of the city’s most well-known delicacies: xiao long bao. So, without further ado, let’s welcome our special guest: Cloud Piercer!”

Huang Shaotian clapped with as much enthusiasm as a child being told that he could run free within a candy store.

The camera panned out to reveal Zhou Zekai, wearing a simple black long-sleeved t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a light grey, yellow-trimmed apron, standing adjacent to Huang Shaotian. He gave a slight wave and a small but sweet smile, and introduced himself with a soft voice, “Hello, I’m Cloud Piercer.”

“You Cloud Piercer fans should thank me,” Huang Shaotian faced the camera and said with mock seriousness, “apparently this is the first time the man is willing to show his face properly in front of the camera. Oh my, I think I could hear your fangirls and fanboys screaming in the distance, Cloud Piercer.” He grinned slyly, aiming the teasing expression at the dark-haired man who only scratched his cheek bashfully, grey eyes darting to the side with a helpless but adorable smile.

“That’s…not nice,” Zhou Zekai managed three words — an actual complete sentence, even if it was a rather short one — but it was more than Huang Shaotian could ever hope for.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It was meant to be a compliment, I swear!” Huang Shaotian burst out laughing when he saw Zhou Zekai’s expression.

“All right! Let’s get started! Since Cloud Piercer here is too shy to speak, he’ll be doing all the hard work while I do the talking. First, let me just say that we’ll be making the sweet version of this tasty dumpling, which, granted, is usually only served during the New Year, but what the heck, I heard this man likes his desserts so that’s what we’ll be making. Also, the original recipe calls for deep-frying, but I know all you ladies out there are probably weeping about the oil and cholesterol. Don’t worry! We’ll be baking ours instead! So, have as many of these as you want!”

“But too much…” Zhou Zekai, to Huang Shaotian’s pleasant surprise, spoke up again, and if he weren’t wearing a lapel microphone on his apron, his voice would definitely have been lost, “…unhealthy.”

“True,” Huang Shaotian nodded in agreement, and began to list out the ingredients and the required amounts of each. While he talked about each step with a flurry of hand gestures and animated, rising and falling tenor, Zhou Zekai followed along silently in graceful and efficient movements beside him, adding dry and wet ingredients into a glass mixing bowl, combining them thoroughly with a wooden spoon, and then kneading the dough — already a nice, golden shade from the egg yolks — until it transformed into a smooth, glistening sphere.

All this time, Huang Shaotian made sure that he wasn’t talking too fast, as he sometimes had the tendency to do when he got too excited, but he realized that he’d been worrying over nothing because as little as Zhou Zekai seemed to speak in words, the man carried himself in the kitchen as if he owned the place, and the ingredients and pieces of equipment were under his perfect control and manipulation.

It wasn’t the first time Huang Shaotian watch Zhou Zekai cook (let’s face it, he’d watched some of the videos more than once… fine, more than five times) but seeing him on screen and being there with him were two entirely different experiences. While Zhou Zekai’s videos were mostly peaceful, calming, and almost therapeutic, standing beside him while he was preparing the ingredients and gradually assembling them was strangely intense and entrancing; in fact, Jiang Botao had to wave at him vigorously to get Huang Shaotian’s attention because the blond had been staring at Zhou Zekai rolling a small piece of dough into an almost-perfect circle without the use of a cookie-cutter, quickly placing a spoonful of peanut and coconut filling in the middle, and folding the edges together into an elegant border of flourished twists.

Zhou Zekai’s fingers, slender and pale with nails trimmed neatly, were precise in measuring out ingredients and kneading the dough for only as long as necessary, like a gunner flawlessly hitting his intended targets, yet laced within that precision was a kind of grace found only in an artist’s bones.

“Uh, yes, um, so keep repeating these steps,” Huang Shaotian blinked and forced himself to turn away from those attractive hands before continuing in a more steady tone, “don’t worry too much if your first few don’t look as perfect as the ones Cloud Piercer’s making right now because hell, I don’t think I can make them that pretty myself, and put them in the oven, preheated to 180 degrees Celsius, for 18 to 20 minutes or until the surface looks golden-yellow.”

By the time the baked gok jai had been cooled down enough, Huang Shaotian picked up one of the golden dumplings, baked to a crisp and warm to the touch, with his thumb and index finger, and offered it to Zhou Zekai.

“Taste test time! Go on then, Cloud Piercer, take a bite!”

Zhou Zekai’s gaze strayed from the dumpling dangled between Huang Shaotian’s fingers to Huang Shaotian himself, who was giving him an encouraging smile almost too bright for Zhou Zekai to handle; his gaze landed back onto the dumpling, which was held only an inch away from his mouth that had sudden gone very, very dry.

“……”

“Come on, man, don’t be shy now,” Huang Shaotian misinterpreted Zhou Zekai’s hesitation, though he wasn’t really that far off.

“…you first,” Zhou Zekai finally spoke, his voice so small even his microphone was having a hard time capturing what he’d said.

“Oh nonono, I insist you should take the first bite,” Huang Shaotian shook his head vigorously, his fluffy blond hair flying every which way so that it reminded Zhou Zekai of a golden retriever shaking himself dry. The image almost pulled a smile from his lips, but he somehow managed to control himself. “You did all the hard work, so you deserve to have the first one. Now be a good boy and open your mouth — say ‘ah’.”

His face remained impeccably neutral, as if he wasn’t about to be hand-fed by someone whom he might consider to be his online crush, but the red tinted at the tip of his ears, thankfully concealed by his dark hair, betrayed his troubled thoughts. All too aware of the camera’s lens focusing on him, Zhou Zekai just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible; he swiftly lowered his head and bit a small mouthful before pulling himself straight, one hand politely covering his mouth while he chewed.

The crispy texture was utterly mesmerizing, but when combined with the chewiness of the wrapping and the crunchy sweetness of the filling, Zhou Zekai’s taste buds were very blissful indeed.

“How is it? How is it?”

Since Zhou Zekai was still chewing, and he honestly didn’t trust his voice at this point, the best he could do was to give a thumbs-up at the camera to show how much he enjoyed the taste.

Without even thinking about it, Huang Shaotian popped the remaining of the gok jai into his own mouth, and Zhou Zekai could only stare at him as the blond mumbled with his mouth full of the dumpling. Meanwhile, Zhou Zekai’s brain was running wild with the colourful comments from the viewers, especially those very zealous fangirls, this video was about to be consumed by.

“It’s too bad Xiao Jiang can’t join us for dinner,” Huang Shaotian commented as he placed his phone down on the table after watching the video they’d filmed and edited two days ago. He grabbed the menu to inspect it even though they’d already placed their order about fifteen minutes ago, but he couldn’t let Zhou Zekai see the blush spreading on his cheeks.

What the hell had he been thinking? Huang Shaotian’s mind was running a marathon — a marathon of a never-ending circle. Hand-feeding Zhou Zekai like that as if… as if they were anything more than acquaintances! He hadn’t been thinking — that was the problem. He’d been so distracted by Zhou Zekai’s presence that he thought nothing of the gesture until after Jiang Botao shouted “cut!” to end their filming session and the man sent him an amused but knowing grin.

He tried to redirect his attention to elsewhere: the reaction had been even better than both vloggers had expected, and that gave them the motivation to film the next video as soon as possible, which was how they ended up in a hole-in-the-wall diner in one of the back alleys in the city near Zhou Zekai’s apartment.

“God I haven’t had xiao long bao in ages. You have no idea how long it’s been! Like, you’d think Guangzhou would have some good restaurants that serve half-way decent xiao long bao, but they’re either way too expensive or way too overrated,” Huang Shaotian rambled on until he felt like he was about to be suffocated by the way Zhou Zekai was staring at him with those ash-grey eyes and slight curve of his lips. “So, anyway, uh, I just wanted to thank you again for accepting my invitation to do this collaboration! It’s been really fun, and I can’t wait to try the food here. Here’s to another successful video from us both!”

Huang Shaotian raised his tall glass filled with beer and clinked it against Zhou Zekai’s, the foam overflowing the rim and sliding down the glass in rivulets of white.

“Mn.”

Zhou Zekai sipped his liquor in a slow and steady pace but Huang Shaotian seemed either very thirsty or very nervous, for he gulped down three-quarters of his beer in one breath.

Since they’d settled into their seats, Zhou Zekai hadn’t really spoken other than placing their orders. It wasn’t like he was ignoring Huang Shaotian though, because the blond could tell that the other man was listening to him attentively and gave the appropriate responses like nodding in agreement, or tilting his head to the side in puzzlement, or even occasionally giving one-syllable replies.

Before he allowed the silence to get any more insufferable, however, Huang Shaotian began to fiddle with his camera and tripod. Since their voluntary cameraman was not available today, Huang Shaotian had taken on the responsibility to record their session tonight.

When the dishes they ordered finally arrived, Huang Shaotian released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. With another one of his signature sunny smiles, he turned to Zhou Zekai and asked him if he was ready to start.

Sitting inside the bamboo steaming basket was the star of the video, the piping hot xiao long bao — the soup dumplings with their pale-yellow skin, glistening with moisture, the crown cascading with spiraled ripples, and their bodies plump with meat and stock inside just waiting to be bitten into. Huang Shaotian positioned the basket between himself and Zhou Zekai while moving the other dishes out of the way; they’d have to enjoy those a bit later, unfortunately.

“Welcome to the second installment of Cloud Piercer and myself Troubling Rain’s collaborative video about one of China’s most delectable and versatile food — dumplings! Today, Shanghai local Cloud Piercer takes me to his favourite restaurant in town that serves excellent xiao long bao, ta-dah!” Huang Shaotian tilted the basket to display the jewels towards the camera and continued, “And of course, when we’re eating these delicious little things, there are some courtesies that must be followed so that you can enjoy the dumplings with maximum level of scrumptiousness and minimum level of danger, i.e. accidentally letting that hot soup burn your tongue!”

As they’d discussed beforehand, Zhou Zekai took the cue and carefully picked up a xiao long bao with his chopsticks, placing the dainty dumpling into his soup spoon, which had already been filled with a dash of black vinegar.

“First, if you don’t dip your xiao long bao in some black vinegar, that should be a food crime and you should be put into food jail! Shame on you! The sourness of the vinegar and — yeah, don’t skip out on those ginger either!” Huang Shaotian added as Zhou Zekai delicately topped the dumpling with some finely-chopped ginger slivers, “the sourness of the vinegar and the mildness of the ginger will balance the slight saltiness and oiliness of the pork filling, so remember—”

What they hadn’t discussed, but what Zhou Zekai was currently doing, was the dark-haired man holding the dumpling a few inches away from Huang Shaotian’s lips, his eyes expectant and the corner of his lips slightly tilted upwards in what seemed to be a teasing smile. Maybe.

The scene was all too familiar.

“Uh, hmm? Cloud Piercer, what’s up?” Huang Shaotian didn’t dare back away but he was raising one of his brows in bewilderment.

“…”

The spoon with the plump xiao long bao sitting snugly in it was moving a degree closer, Zhou Zekai’s intention clear as day.

“F-for me?” Huang Shaotian wanted to be sure anyway, because what if he misinterpreted the whole thing and made a fool of himself in front of this gorgeous man? …Again?

Zhou Zekai nodded with a faint smile, and Huang Shaotian gulped noisily.

And since, as previously mentioned and demonstrated, Huang Shaotian was an infatuated fool who was too easily distracted, all his attention was focused on how pretty Zhou Zekai looked with a smile on his face, how sincere he seemed in offering him the first dumpling, and how insanely long his eyelashes were, a perfect frame for his ash-grey eyes that were also smiling warmly at him. His attention was so askew that he forgot about the one taboo any experienced xiao long bao-consumer would never commit: he took the entire freshly-steamed dumpling into his mouth and sank his teeth into it.

He regretted it instantly.

“Huang Shao!” Zhou Zekai yelped in forewarning, the loudest Huang Shaotian had ever heard from him. His eyes were widened almost comically, but it was too late.

Scalding, fragrant soup filled Huang Shaotian’s mouth, the heat of the stock burning its way around the tender flesh of his oral cavity and the back of his throat as he tried to swallow as quickly as he could without choking himself in the process. He coughed in the most unbecoming manner, soup dripping down his chin messily, his eyes turning red and watering from the heat, “Fuaaaah! Shit, shit, owwwww…”

Armed with several napkins, Zhou Zekai leaned in to dab Huang Shaotian’s chin and cheeks dry, his movements nothing but gentle, all the while his brows frowning with obvious worry, “…hurt? Need ice water?”

His face was only a few centimeters away from Huang Shaotian’s, and he was too preoccupied by his task of cleaning the blond up to realize that said blond was staring unabashedly at him.

‘Too close,’ Huang Shaotian thought to himself, blinking slowly and appreciating the flawless cheekbones and rosy pink of the other man’s lips in such close proximity. ‘Oh god.’ He had a feeling he was about to do something he was going to regret again.

“Water would be nice, but…” Huang Shaotian finally located his voice, slightly raw and hoarse from hot soup sliding down his throat just minutes before, and he glanced up to maintain steady eye contact with Zhou Zekai, his topaz irises blazing with a sudden burst of daring, before the words rolled out of his mouth, “a kiss from you might be better though.”

“…….”

At Zhou Zekai’s pause, though his hand remained on Huang Shaotian’s chin with a clean napkin, Huang Shaotian’s cheeks began to grow warm and he wished the ground would swallow him up already because hadn’t he embarrass himself enough in front of this guy today?!

“I-I mean— mmf?!”

His lips were warm, was Zhou Zekai’s first thought as his eyes fluttered close when their lips touched tenderly for the first time, warmer than expected, and so, so soft, like the fluffy chiffon cakes he liked to bake. On the other end, Huang Shaotian’s lips felt oversensitive due to the burning soup from the xiao long bao, but the slight tingling verging on numbing sensation was addictive, and he found himself leaning in closer, his arms hanging loosely on Zhou Zekai’s shoulders to keep him in place, their breaths gradually becoming more and more unsteady until Zhou Zekai pulled himself away and opened his eyes.

They were dark but glimmering with the kind of desire not unlike wanting to swallow his favourite dessert whole.

Huang Shaotian’s breath stuttered at the sight, but he still managed to grumble convincingly with an accusative tone, “Zhou Zekai, you realize we’ll have to film this from the beginning again, right?”

“Worth it.”

#qzgs #quan zhi gao shou #tka #the king's avatar #huang shaotian #zhou zekai #bowie's crappy writing #I think this is my fave so far #and I'd totally write this ship again because omg the cuteness potential is so there

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bbparker · 7 years

Text

Hold onto Me (Steve R. x Reader x Tony S.)

Summary: (Y/n) is the newest member to the team with a history with Tony. She’s bubbly and can see the humour in anything- She’s exactly what Steve needs in his darkest hours, except Tony is possessive over her and both build up welts of jealousy over her. Little did they know this can have disastrous effects on those around them.

Requested by: @keepcalm-and-beyou

A/N: I'm sorry it's very apparent in my writings who I prefer her with but I'll try my best! Might do a second part if requested :P (Gif not mine)

Words: 2,678

[PART 2]

// Masterlist //

“Steve?” Bruce timidly knocks at his Captain’s office door. “Bruce, hi.” Tensions in the facility where still high after the civil war but they managed for the time being. Bucky was still in cry in Wakanda, nobody knowing but Steve and T’Challa. “The new recruits just arrived and the teams gathering for a drink to … uh, get to know her.” “Alright, I’ll be out in a moment.” As Bruce exited, Steve glanced down at the new recruits file. She was an expert in linguistics; specialising in Russian, Greek, Gaelic, German, Italian and Spanish.

Not to mention she had the ability to run at the speed of light and had a masters degree in engineering. Everyone knew that while her powers were new, her history with Tony definitely wasn’t; they'd been best friends since childhood. The thought of his own best friend sent a pang throughout his heart. Why did it feel like every time he seemed to get his best friend and last family member back he'd lose him all over again? Steve wasn't selfish but sometimes he felt the world did owe him a little something. How was he supposed to save people if he couldn't even manage to save himself? Sighing, Steve rose and exited making his way to the living area next to the kitchen, seeing the crew surrounding someone. Upon hearing his steps, they move so he can introduce himself. Steve didn't exactly know what he was expecting; another sarcastic and witty girl like Natasha or a quiet and smart girl like Wanda. However, the last thing he would have expected was her.

(Y/n) were gorgeous, in a way no other could pull off. She wasn't thin, with muscles were semi-defined from all the running you'd done with your powers, however, her curves from maybe slightly eating unnecessary things were readily there. Finally, her smile was the brightest thing he'd ever seen. She was the epitome of happiness while the rest of them were slightly war-torn.

Before he could blink (y/n) was right in his face, examining him. Though usually, he would feel uncomfortable, her radiance simply drew him in. "Hello, Steve Rogers! I-I mean Captain America sir! Reporting for duty... uh, sir." And then (y/n) saluted, the second-hand embarrassment was noticeable on most of the team's faces.

(Y/n)'s face began to glow bright red at Steve's raised eyebrow. "Too much?" She asked. He laughed but before he could reply a loud voice boomed over them all. "I heard there was a beautiful girl in the building so naturally, I had to come see!" With a gust of wind, (y/n) was gone again and settled into Tony's arms.

Turning with his eyebrow still raised, he could see (y/n) tucked under Tony's chin with arms wrapped around his waist. "Did you get taller (y/n)? Or just sexier?" The famous smirk was ever present and the whole team groaned. "And, you haven't changed Tony. Like at all, kind of weird but never mind!" She laughed. "I believe the Captain was about to say something before you rudely interrupted, as usual." (Y/n) held a playful smile as she turned back to Steve. Tony behind her was checking her out and Steve noticing gave him an 'are you serious' look, only to be replied to with him mouthing 'what?'

"Captain?" "Oh, uh yes, sorry." Holding out his hand, she closed the distance in no time and was shaking his hand softly. "Steve Rogers, you don't have to call me Captain." The charming smile he gave her made a slight red rise to her cheeks. She was somewhat in shock from being invited to be a part of the team by Tony Stark himself. "Oh okay, Steve Rogers." They kept shaking hands, keeping the eye contact although both hadn't noticed the hand shake was much longer than what should have been comfortable.

"How about those drinks, hey?" Tony interrupted, grabbing (y/n)'another hand and pulling her away to the big round table. Noticing someone missing Steve turned to Nat, who had placed himself next to her. "Where's Clint and Thor?"

"Clint wanted to actually try to retire and Thor's back on Asgard doing prince things, I don't know."

Wanda was placing glass cups on the table for people, while Tony selected the alcohol- naturally. Looking over the shelves of expansive alcohol, (y/n) laughs, "you're still an alcoholic Tony? Times haven't changed for you have they?" "Well, Tony's always going to be Tony." Steve laughs tasting the alcohol poured into his glass. "You know me so well Cap." The saying was meant to be playful but the tone was slightly bitter; from what he couldn't tell. "Hate to break it to you Champ, but this fast running also comes with fast metabolism in all the wrong places- I can't get drunk anymore."

"Well that's semi-disappointing, we had so many good memories from when we were-"

"Yes, and there definitely will be no report on of it either" (y/n) laughed, still bringing the glass to her mouth. Moving the conversation along, Steve slipped into Captain mode. "So, (y/n), what made you say yes?"

Thinking about it thoroughly, (y/n) smirked over her glass. "I guess I just want to look out for the little guy." Steve's heart thundered at her words. Some sick part of him wanting to be the little guy once more so she could protect him. Wiping that thought away as the team kept questioning the new recruit and a flirty comment from Tony every now and then. Throughout the questions (Y/n) and Steve make eye contact over their glasses or when a question slightly pertained to the other person, it was like magnets.

A beep echoed throughout the room and Steve brought out his phone to check what it was. The team seemed to go silent, waiting for orders while (y/n) glanced around wondering why everyone suddenly went stiff. Upon seeing it was a mild case Steve looked up into the eyes of the woman across from him. "Avengers a-"

"Arrive!" (Y/n) shouted, the team awkwardly turning to her. A wild blush spread across her cheeks and embarrassment dominated her persona. "I-is that not the phrase?”

For once Steve was the first to laugh, shaking his head and standing up. "Avengers, gear up. Wheels up in twenty."

"(Y/n), a word please?" Steve asked before the left the table. Tony eyeing him suspiciously as he walked down the hall to get his suit.

"Yes, Cap- Steve. Sorry..."

"That's okay. Anyways, I don't know if you'd had experience in, but just stick close to one of us for this okay? It's not particularly hard I just want someone to keep an eye on you for a while- monitor your skills and such." Though slightly offended at being treated like a child, (y/n) understood she was the newbie and needed to gain their trust. "I'll stick close to you blast from the past!" The metaphor went straight over Steve's head and instead of replying he walked away. When she couldn't see his face, he allowed the full-blown smile to cover his face- something within him was happy she chose to follow him rather than Tony.

-----

Five months later and the small competitiveness between Tony and Steve, in the beginning, has blown up into a whirlwind of jealousy and competitiveness. Of course (y/n) noticed the building tension in the team but she assumed it was because of the major upcoming mission they had. They competed for everything; from small touches, to who would be helping (y/n) in the gym, to even who would make her coffee in the morning. The game, however, became dangerous when it began affecting team dynamics.

Sitting on the couch watching T.V, (Y/N) had he head on Steve’s lap as he combed his hands through her hair. Her eyes fluttered shut as she slowly drifted before being startled awake by her feet being lifted. Tony sat with her feet on his lap, rubbing slow circles on her ankles- further soothing her.

“S’okay, kinda feels nice though. Her eyes drifted close once again at the motions on her head and feet. Both touches intensified strangely and it seemed each got harder until- “ouch!” (Y/n) let out, sitting up abruptly, feeling the dull pain in her head and ankle. “I’m so sorry!” Both men let out, holding their arms out as if to south her- she’d just have to choose who’s arms. Standing (y/n) decided just to go back to her room, the tension floating thickly in the air. “It’s okay, it was an accident! I’m just going to go to bed now…” Making her way down the hall, (y/n) heard harsh mutterings but was too tired to find out what was happening.

——

“Do you want help in the gym today, (y/n)? You know how I was teaching you those- “

“Oh, no its okay Tony, Steve was going to help me with my gymnastics!”

“Why do you need to know that?” Tony made a face, what was Steve playing at?”

“To help performance, not all of us can rely on suits, Tony.” Steve slightly smirked at Tony, the other man’s ears going red from anger.

“I’d be happy to give her-” Noticing the tension, (y/n) butts in awkwardly and smiles nervously.

“It okay Tony, I’ll be back later, I really want to get this fly kick Steve’s been teaching me down, okay?”

———

“Good morning, (y/n)! I made you your favourite…coffee!” Steve held up a cup of the smooth liquid right in her face and he looked so proud of himself. (Y/n) was tired, probably from writing mission reports all night and Steve’s chipper attitude wasn’t exactly helping. Steve’s cheerful face, however, caused (y/n) to crack a small smile on her face and take the coffee. Just as she was about to take a sip, Tony burst through the elevator doors, breathless. “(Y/n) …I…got…you…coffee.” Hand on a knee, he held up the cup of coffee from some prestigious coffee place, she was sure. “Oh, uh Steve already made me one but that you Tony!” Walking away (y/n) began to mutter about how people in this tower were so giving and nice.

Steve’s baby blues followed her form as she retreated to her room, a smitten smile on his face.

“Back off Rogers.” Tony glared at the taller man causing Steve to smirk. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Slightly getting in his face, Tony’s nostrils flared. “You know exactly what I’m talking about! You have no chance, we already have history.” Huffing, Steve fully turned to Tony, crossing his arms. “Yeah well if it was such good history, why aren’t you two still together.” Tony’s mouth opened and closed, trying to find an answer. Clapping him on the back as he went to walk away, Tony grabbed his bicep in his hand. “I mean it Rogers, you don’t know her like I do. You don’t deserve her, not you.”

“What, like you? A big man with his name plastered everywhere but what’s inside you, Tony? What makes it so hard for a woman to stay with you, huh? Guaranteed (y/n) already figured it out and won’t want to repeat history; probably learned her lesson the first time around.” Glaring at each other Tony pulled Steve face to face with him, “what? Do you want a repeat of history, Captain? Because guaranteed I’ll just beat your ass all over again!” Tony spat Captain as if it was poison to his mouth. Both men hadn’t noticed that their voices had raised and caught the attention of the people occupying the tower.

———

While getting dressed for the day, (y/n) frowned upon hearing raised voices from the kitchen that sounded like Steve and Tony. She couldn’t understand what was being said but the context was clear; they were pissed with each other, again. The little scrambles between the two became more apparent as time moved on. The whole team noticing the glares and petty comments each sent to each other; even on missions. Pulling on her shirt, (y/n) made her way to the kitchen, to finally get to the bottom of this, but froze when she heard her name.

“Are you really using that? Threatening me with another fight? What would that achieve? As far as I’m concerned that wouldn’t win any brownie points with (y/n) …” “Yeah, if it gets you to back off! (Y/n) doesn’t belong with you!” “I could say the same about you! You’re so selfish Tony!”

Stepping into the kitchen finally having heard enough, she yelled over their loud tones. “This is what the whole team tensions been about?!” Both men froze, eyes glancing over to a furious (y/n). “(Y/n), listen- “

“For once in your life Tony, SHUT UP!” She couldn’t believe their behaviour. Did they threaten each other with another Civil war over her? They sounded like children fighting over a toy. They were friends, team mates and colleagues which sometimes the fate of the world relied on; yet, here they are acting like complete assholes. Then to the fact they thought they had a say on who she could and couldn’t date, not realising she wasn’t here to play a romantic interest.

Steve let out a smirk and small laugh as well. “And YOU Steve Rogers, can do the same!” Instantly the look was wiped off his face as he glanced down like a scolded child; which in a way he was. “You’re both acting like children, god help the day when the world needs us on another world-dependant mission!” Running a hand across her forehead, thinking of what she can do to rectify the situation. Then the thought struck her; if she moved herself from the equation, then they would have nothing to fight about. “You both act as if I don’t have a say in any of this! I’m a god damn grown woman who doesn’t need the likes of men telling anyone who she belongs with-” She looked right at Tony, him shamefully looking away. “-Or who wins fucking brownie points with me!” (Y/n) looked over at Steve, his blush darkening in shame.

“You’re both complete idiots! I can’t believe I thought joining this team would be a good thing, I should have just joined the X-men…” She trailed off muttering about her other options and how none of this wouldn’t have happened if she’d just chosen somewhere else. “I’ve decided, if you can’t act like friends or even team mates, I’m leaving transferring from the team.”

Both men stared wide eyed at (y/n) and both tried to stop her. “(Y/N) wait we can work this-”” Don’t leave please-””-Can you not talk over me-?” “-I was talking first, you ice cube!” “You were not- “

“ENOUGH!” (Y/n) yelled. “Enough.” She said softer, looking at the men she used to look up to. With disappointment clear on her face, they could both see what they’d done wrong. Too obsessed with out-completing and being better than the other, they both forgot to consider the feelings of the girl they wanted. “I will go on this one last mission you all, then that’s it. I refuse to work on a team that doesn’t have each other’s back and I’ll be damned if I’m the reason anyone on the team got hurt; Or even split the Avengers apart. You understand, Stark? Captain?” With light tears in her eyes, (y/n) said with an authoritative voice. Both men nod with understanding as she left no room for argument.

“Right, well then, everyone go get ready, the mission's tomorrow and we can’t afford to fuck this up because of the pettiness of men. Understand? Captain, Stark.” Hands behind her back, (y/n) nodded and made her way to her office instead of her room, deciding to call Charles Xavier and finally accept his offer of becoming a language teacher and part of the X-Men.

“You guys don’t usually fuck up this bad but when you do, someone always gets hurt.” Nat piped in from behind Steve and Tony. Both turned to look at her and then each other. They all left without a word to get ready for their mission.

Part 2??

TAGS

@eliza-hamilton-helpless @purelittleblueberry @yoinkpeter

#steve rogers x tony stark fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #tony stark imagine #tony x steve imagine #steve x reader imagine #tony x reader imagine #tony x reader x steve imagine #civil war imagine #marvel imagine #steve x reader x tony imagine #imagine #angst imagine #tony vs steve imagine #stony imagine #stony x reader imagine

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spectrumscribe · 7 years

Text

a crow’s murder, a jay’s party, and a magpie’s parliament.

@guide-to-the-galaxy presenting my late birthday present to you: a harrowing adventure with our three favorite kids set in the amazing AU you gifted to me on my birthday.

please enjoy some ghostly misadventures and somewhat mushy romance, the most important factors to a story. <3

((for those not in the know: this is a Mystery Gang AU featuring capritello and paranormal shenanigans. human AU obviously, minor gore and spooky moments, and the races for each of the kids are as follows: April is black, Donnie is blasian, and Casey is native.))

April doesn’t wear makeup often. It’s expensive and tricky to use. Usually she has no patience for it and all the fuss it takes to wear it; particularly that when she chooses to show her boys some affection, it leaves evidence and people always Talk when two teenage boys have the same color left on their cheeks and there’s only one girl to be seen.

April is sensible and to the point and doesn’t enjoy nosy, judging assholes making assumptions of her and her two companions. It makes her reach for her bat, and there are unfortunately few situations where that’s the correct response.

But, on the rare occasion, makeup is acceptable. She’s found, as she, Donnie, and Casey have faced stranger and more dangerous creatures on their journey crosscountry- having some battle paint on her face makes the experience less terrifying, more thrilling.

Bloody red on her lips is the go to, and April always applies it with care. It stands pleasantly stark against her dark skin and yellow sweaters, and she enjoys the tacky feeling it leaves on her skin as they go to face whatever monster or ghoul they’ve stumbled across tonight. It feels like a challenge, and April does indeed mean it that way to whoever and whatever they encounter.

Of course. This means she tends to get in over her head, more often than not.

Thank god she’s never flying solo.

...usually.

-///-

April rolls her shoulders, testing for a twinge to indicate something out of place or possibly broken. All she gets is uncomfortable muscle aches, and she knows she’ll be feeling that for the next few weeks at least.

Small price to pay, honestly, for falling through the floor of an abandoned mine shaft.

April counts to ten with her eyes closed, swallowing her brief fear, and then opens them again into darkness. There’s no sound around her except for her own breathing, and never has April ever wanted so dearly to her the voices of her boys.

So. She’s fallen down deeper into a haunted mine, she has no idea where she is, and hasn’t been able to find her god damn bat anywhere so far. Or the flashlight and radio that fell out of her hands during her fall, for all the good the malfunctioning radio might have done.

Rumor from the small town this mine is near is that the spirits haunting it are malevolent. A family gave them firsthand accounts of their son being dragged by an unseen force, towards the hollow mouth of the tunnels. He’d gotten away, but there’d been dark bruises shaped like hand prints around his ankles.

There really isn’t any dispute that there’s a hostile spirit here, what with tens of other accounts like that scattered through the community and stretching back whole generations. April blows out a harsh breath and mutters about that being, “-just the icing on top of the cake, great.”

She and her boyfriends need to stop splitting up to cover more ground. April isn’t sure how many more times they’ll get out of things like this unscathed.

She fumbles around a bit more, cursing whenever her fingers and knuckles scrape on stone rubble. April nearly shouts in triumph when she finally feels the plastic of a flashlight handle, and turns it on immediately.

She’s blinded for a long few seconds, blinking as her eyes adjust. Then, April grins as she spots the handle of her bat sticking out of the rubble, just on the other side of the mound. It only takes some shoving and kicking of heavy stone to get it free, and finally April is armed again with her blessed bat.

Definitely one of their more worthwhile afternoon’s, negotiating a retired and grumpy priest into doing a ceremony for an aluminum bat’s holy blessing. It’s seen them through ghouls and goblins alike. The question now is if it’ll work on malevolent spirits of wronged miners.

No signs of her radio, and the tunnel above April is far out of reach; the one she stands in with smooth sides and a too short mound of stone to jump from. April isn’t going to get anywhere, hanging out here and waiting for rescue.

So she slings her bat across her shoulders, aims her flashlight forwards, and starts walking in the direction she hopes is outwards.

-///-

April met Donnie because they lived close to one another, and as a result attended the same school.

Donnie had been the lankiest boy of all their class, tall as weed grass and growing just as fast. He’d had too-big glasses set on his face, magnifying cinnamon red eyes, and his hair hadn’t seem to know if it wanted to be smooth or wiry, sometimes being both in the same spots.

He’d worn hand-me-down shirts too short for his torso, jeans that always showed his ankles, and had a perpetual curious glint to his eyes. April had been drawn to him because underneath the sensibility and scientific deductions, Donnie had an impulsive streak a mile wide for ventures most would deem severely ill-advisable. Like April did, despite her pigtails and yellow dresses and friendly politeness.

And he talked back, really talked back, to anyone who talked down at him. April had been the sort to just stomp someone’s toes when they did that to her, and Donnie’s cutting remarks and pointed quips had made her laugh until her sides hurt.

He and his brothers. They really did end up as a second family to her, in all their chaos and familial bickering. Donnie had just been the one April got especially close with in the end, being the charming string-bean he was.

Especially after the night she said “I want to hold a seance to contact my dead mother I don’t even remember.” and he’d said “Okay.” without missing a beat.

-///-

April meets a dead end in the tunnel, after walking forever in increasingly tight and rough hallways, and realizes with a sinking sensation she’s gone the wrong way.

It figures with her luck she’d wander straight into the heart of the tragedy. The place a miscounted crew of miners- forgotten by a careless boss during clearance- were blown to bits and then buried in a dynamite blast.

April wonders if she should put her and her boys’ curiosity for the dangerous adventures in life to bed for a few weeks, and see if they can hunt again for Fresno Nightcrawlers instead of malevolent spirits.

Upside to the situation: April hasn’t talked directly to the spirits or invited contact. There’s a chance she’ll get out of this place unnoticed and-

April’s flashlight flickers rapidly, despite being brand new from the hardware store in town.

“Oh don’t you fucking dare,” April accuses her light source, and swears violently as it goes out. She smacks the butt of it against her thigh, praying its a fluke and the batteries will kick back in any second.

The flashlight refuses to come back to life and April is caught between being pissed off and instinctively terrified of being in pitch black darkness.

April finds the wall, pushing down her panic by grounding herself in the sightless void she’s trapped in. Count off the tools you have at your disposal, she reminds herself. Bat. Wits. Determination. Fight or flight instincts. Broken ass flashlight.

April wishes she could count Donnie’s calm directions and Casey’s bolstering bluster over the radio, which she doesn’t have, and probably would have been out of range from anyways.

She wishes she could reach out and grab their hands, in this moment. Lanky and nimble fingers of two people she never expected to be as embarrassingly smitten with as she is.

But they’re not here right now, so. Buck up, O’Neil. Shrinking violet never suited you.

April sets her bat down between her legs, holding it there with her knees while she unscrews the flashlight’s parts. Maybe if she fusses with the batteries they’ll come back to life and she won’t be stuck in the dark of a creepy, dangerous, extremely haunted tunnel system-

-and it’s suddenly much easier to see what she’s doing with the flashlight. Probably because there’s something faintly glowing somewhere behind her.

April freezes, the same time as the air around her does.

The glow gets brighter, and every hair on her body stands straight up.

“Son of a bitch,” April mutters, and glances over her shoulder.

She’s expecting it, but the translucent apparition- apparitions- still make a scream bubble in her throat. The miners, all in varying states of physical deterioration, have surrounded her from behind. Parts of their bodies are missing- arms and legs, gone- some skulls crushed and others missing completely- burnt or broken limbs reaching towards April and gaping mouths open still in everlasting screams of agony.

April screams back at them, and drops her useless flashlight.

She comes back up swinging, intent to at least stun the one closest to her.

Her bat goes right through the ghost miner’s face.

April stares in horror at her failed weapon- the very first time it’s ever done so- and realizes how utterly fucked she is.

“I want my damn money back,” April spits, and she ducks a clawing hand.

-///-

April met Casey while standing over a grave, which likely set the tone for their relationship following.

He’d been ragged around the edges, dressed in a suit baggy in all the wrong spots and looking like his world had fallen apart from underneath him. Black hair in a tight braid down his neck, and warm brown eyes surrounded by even warmer brown skin; he’d been someone who looked like they used to brim with life, but now had lost the spark that made them so alive.

And he’d look at April and Donnie, knee deep in the process of digging up someone’s remains, and he’d asked what they were doing in a graveyard with shovels and a freshly dug hole.

When she’d answered, “We’re looking for ghosts, because there’s one haunting the deli a few blocks that way, and it’s origin is coming directly from the coffin sitting about six feet below our feet,” and Donnie had chimed in, “Give or take a few inches,” Casey’s eyebrows had gone up a few inches, and a sliver of the life April suspected him to have returned to his eyes.

“That’s pretty metal,” He’d said instead of calling them crazy, and April had the prevalent notion that this was someone they were going to get along with just fine.

He told them later why he’d been in the graveyard, that his mom had died, confessing so between ghostly encounters and getting to know each other’s quirks, and he’d said it in such a quiet and vulnerable voice April hadn’t been able to stop her hands from cupping his cheeks, or her lips finding a place on his.

Funny how her boyfriend had watched with interest instead of jealousy, and Donnie’s hand had ended up tangled with Casey’s not long after; long fingers tracing each other’s knuckles and holding tight in the privacy of narrow alleyways and darkened rooms.

Adrenaline inducing adventures did wonders to speed up a budding relationship.

-///-

April’s knees impact the stone floor, grinding sharp edges of rough ground into her jeans and skin, and she’s up faster than the pain can register.

Why the blessing on her bat aren’t working- April is going to have words with that priest- is a untimely mystery for her current situation. She should be able to give a good smack to anything that has evil intent-

-unless the beings currently chasing her aren’t evil and in fact are just tormented souls of unfortunate men and god damn April wishes she’d remembered the fine print of things before traipsing into a nest of restless spirits.

April isn’t sure how she’s staying ahead of he translucent men. She isn’t going to question too deeply the logistics of a human outrunning a mob of ghosts.

Somethings snags the ends of her braids, and April yelps as it tugs hard on her hair. Her feet slip as she’s pulled backwards.

She falls.

April’s skull impacts the stone and flittering sparks fill her vision. The unnatural glow that barely lights the tunnel swims around her as the spirits do, guttural sounds and distant watery voices filling the rapidly thinning air.

A man missing half his face looms over her, giving April an up close view of his destroyed features. A hollow where his eye socket and left ear should have been, showing burnt and dripping viscera inside his skull.

He makes a sound displaced from where it should come from, and dives down at her.

April’s vision whites out as she screams.

-///-

She’s lying with her wife, young and beautiful and carrying their child. It’s only a few more months, and her stomach’s bump is signal that soon they’ll need more space, more food, more income...

“Be safe,” She says, gently cupping April’s cheek and giving a pleading look. “I know those tunnels aren’t as safe as people pretend they are.”

“Of course I’ll be,” April replies, cupping the hand on her cheek and smiling into it. “You know I always am.”

Someone snorts outside April’s range of vision, a deeper sound than any woman usually makes. “Uh huh, sure O’Neil. Like you were careful runnin’ headfirst at a crow monster when it got it’s claws in me.”

April blinks, and the young woman beside her melts into a man, dark skinned with wild short hair. Donnie looks back at her, still pleading, and Casey’s arm wraps around them both from behind April’s back.

“You’ll watch my back,” April finds herself repeating, from hours ago when they were just considering entering the mines. This already happened.

Donnie rolls his eyes, and moves close enough to brush his lips over hers. “Obviously. That’s possibly the only constant we have.”

April feels his lips on hers, feels Casey’s against her neck, and knows this isn’t where she should be, warm and lulling as it is.

She feels the presence that doesn’t belong, swimming and swelling all around this precious moment that belongs only to April and her boys.

She closes her eyes to Donnie, pushes bother her boys away, and delves into the pool of strength in her core.

This isn’t real. You don’t belong here. Get OUT of my head, THIS DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU.

My life didn’t belong to them, counters the spirit in her, and April feels again the love and agony and loss that this miner had- losing his wife and child and future all in one horrible mistake- and her will wavers.

But. She’s dealt with possession before.

Eat shit, she tells the miner, and draws on the fire inside her. The scene around her blurs, her boys still tucked close to her, but steadily disintegrating as she forcibly burns out the invasion of her mind.

WAIT! he begs, and something slides across her vision just as April burns up the last of the scene and the combined memory of their loved ones.

Something dark, something horrifying. Something that’s been keeping all these miners trapped here for decades and been making them pay for the social crucifixion it’d suffered after it’s mistakes in life.

Something corrupted. Something evil.

Something April can hit.

April drops out of the dream, the vision of a warped and demonic spirit chasing her as she does.

-///-

“Is this really going to work?” Donnie had asked, whisper quiet and said without looking either of them in the eye. “Can we really. Really be us?”

Curled together in the back of a van, newly bought and newly broken in, in all the important ways- April knew Donnie was revealing something he would probably only ever reveal this once.

She’d pressed closer, putting her nose to his hair and saying, “We’re planning on going cross country to hunt things no one really believes in, after dealing with some of those things just in our neighborhood multiple times. I think there’s plenty things more impossible than us managing being us.”

“What she said,” Casey had mumbled, and thrown his long limbs over both of them, reassuring in the way he knew best. Physical shows of affection and loyalty. April had grinned against Donnie’s ear, kissing it and making him squeak between her and Casey, and she’d believed they really could be.

Now, she opens her eyes to Donnie over top of her, glasses shining in the unnatural glow of the ghosts surrounding them, and April hears him and Casey both shouting at her.

April lifts a hand, clutching at the deep purple sweater she’d made Donnie start wearing. The stark relief in his expression at her responsiveness is obvious, and April manages a tight smile as her head pounds.

“Where’s my bat?” She asks the second her cottony feeling tongue will let her.

Donnie laughs hoarsely, and hauls her off the ground and against his chest. “Of course you ask where your bat is right after being possessed. Of course.”

“She’s awake?!” Casey demands, standing guard over them both. April sees him over Donnie’s shoulder, clutching her bat and giving wildly angry and terrified looks at the ghosts ringing them.

April sits up properly, leaning only somewhat on Donnie as she gets off the icy and uncomfortable ground. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just had a headmate for a moment there.” She reaches out, tugging at the black sweater Casey wears. “Gimme my bat. Sweet as it is, you don’t need to protect us from these guys. They already said everything they needed to.”

Casey makes a disbelieving sound, but like he almost always does, he trusts her. Even with a dozen some ghosts surrounding them and sticky blood on the back of April’s neck, he hands over her bat with only a beat of hesitance.

April sets it’s wide end on the ground, subtly leaning on it for support. She clears her throat as her boyfriends come to stand at her side, and she speaks clearly as she’s able to post-possession. “Attention gentlemen,” April says with straight shoulders, even though her head aches fiercely. “We’re paranormal hunters, and we’re here to free you from your haunting.”

“We are?” Casey asks in a mumble, and Donnie shushes him. April continues, “I’ll forgive you for the trespassing and general violation of my brain, but please. Don’t do that again.” Her temples throb and April tastes something wrong in the air on her tongue. She grins with her crimson lips. “So, as Mr. Mc’Millin so kindly shared with me, there’s a certain someone who’s the real culprit of those accidents, isn’t there?” April grins wider as the circle of ghosts wail angrily.

“...care to fill us in on things?” Donnie whispers in her ear, just as a shiver goes through the air. His hands land on April’s shoulders, steadying and protective as something viscerally wrong makes itself known. Casey’s don’t, but April knows he’s probably gone back to back with Donnie as they search for the threat.

“We’ve had a change in target,” April explains, and hefts her bat as the tunnel rushes with unnatural wind. “What do you think a small town would do to someone, if they killed the fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons of a community?”

Something glows, back the way she came running from, and it’s much bigger than the faint ones of the miners. It gets brighter and brighter as it approaches, and April’s bat lights up with holy light to match it.

The inscribed biblical symbols along it’s length burn white, giving it an appropriately angelic halo. With an evil presence in range, it practically hums with energy to cleanse and destroy.

April really does love her bat.

Donnie draws his weapon as well- a modified .41 caliber Colt House Revolver with four rounds of cleansing silver bullets for ammo- and April hears the a bullet slide into the chamber with a soft click as he aims. Casey steps slightly ahead of them both, black sleeves rolled up to display his thickly inked tattoos; swirling protection wards drawn by an elder of his nation and threaded directly into his very being. Casey grins, wolfish as the single claw charm hanging from his neck; Donnie narrows his eyes at their rapidly approaching target, utterly concentrated.

April gives it a wide smile, toothy as anything and worthy of the bright red of her lips.

“Holy shit,” Casey breathes through his bared teeth, just as things rush into motion. “So. Metal.”

The malformed, rage twisted being rushes into sight; it’s mass owed to decades of building, festering hatred for the miners he’d thoughtlessly murdered in life. What’s left of the mine’s former owner is nothing short of monstrous, howls from it’s hungry, gaping mouth echoing all around them as it half flies, half lopes towards them. It’s huge, and terrifying, and everything that goes bump in the night.

April jumps forwards, and hits it in the face with a resounding clap of purity and taint colliding.

Donnie fires off one of his precious few shots soon as she’s clear, the corrupted spirit screaming as the blessed metal blasts through it’s chest, and Casey dodges in to give it a well deserved uppercut not a second later.

April winds up for another blow, and falls into the violent dance she and her boys have perfected.

-///-

April blows out around the cigarette in her mouth, white smoke clouding the air as she sits in the back of their van. Her split lip throbs as she satisfies her oral fixation, but its barely holding a candle to the goose egg on the back of her skull.

Casey’s legs hang over the edge with hers, limp as he lies backwards on their shared mattress stuffed into the van. With the back doors open as they wait for Donnie in the phone booth next to the road, April mires in the victory of their successful exorcism.

The woman who’d asked them to help in the first place, Annie Mc’Millin, descendant of the miner they’d set free, had been so thankful to them all. Few people in the town admitted aloud that there were Things in the mines, and having Annie’s local knowledge had really helped.

She’d been so glad to know her son hadn’t been hurt by her great grandfather; glad enough to cry a little. April thinks that has to be the best part of their victory.

That, and the nice blankets she’d given them. Things got cold in the van, even with three people sharing space.

April takes her cigarette out of her mouth, tapping it’s red stained length to drop ash on the ground. In the quiet evening, adrenaline long gone and just aches left behind, April feels pretty damn good for a woman who’s recently been possessed.

Casey might take a little longer to recover, seeing as he’d been nailed in the chest by a ghostly punch. He has a pretty large bruise center of his chest, and April knows he’s going to either pretend he’s perfectly fine or that he can’t lift a finger for fear of worse injury. And it will last at least two weeks, possibly a month, because hes an over dramatic idiot who takes hits for people he cares about.

April and Donnie had both called him a moron, Donnie especially loud since the hit was meant for him. Casey had grinned and said it was nothing, that his protective wards meant out of all them, it’s him that can take the most hits and still get back up afterwards.

Donnie had cuffed Casey’s ear and hugged him hard enough neither of them could breathe. April wrapped herself around them, listening to Donnie cuss Casey out for being a self-sacrificing idiot and that he should remember just because he could take the hits, didn’t mean that he should.

And Casey had laughed in a wobbly way, said “Okay, you got me there,” and pushed his face into both their chests while the smell of broiled rock and singed salt cleared from the air. It’d been a sound that made April’s chest tight with a hundred desperate emotions, and a rough sniffle come from Donnie.

April thinks they couldn’t have found a better boyfriend, standing in that graveyard in the middle of the night.

Speaking of boyfriends, April watches as Donnie goes through a series of increasingly sporadic arm gesticulations in the phone booth, and finally press his forehead up against the glass and seem to question his life choices very loudly, without ever saying a word.

“I think Donnie’s having a breakdown,” April says, tapping her cigarette again and dropping flakes on the road. She nudges Casey’s leg with her knee. “Hey, babe, wake up. Our boyfriend is having a breakdown in the phone booth.”

Casey makes an incomprehensible mutter that sounds mostly asleep, and April rolls her eyes fondly. She would otherwise let him rest, but Donnie is having a crisis of some sort. All hands on deck are required.

April leans over Casey, carefully pecking him on the lips as he groans again, and hops out of the van. Donnie sees her coming, and drops the phone to open and walk out of the booth.

“Please,” He says in a faint voice, waving at the phone as a way of saying please, my wonderful amazing girlfriend, take care of my no doubt family related disaster. He sits down on the curb, putting his hands in his short and messy hair, and April pats his head as she passes.

She takes her cigarette out of her mouth as she picks up the phone. “’ello?”

“April! Yo! What’s up, girl?”

“Mikey, good to hear from you,” April leans on the side of the booth, smiling as Mikey laughs. They’ve been out of contact the last three days, and it’s nice to hear the kid brother of her boyfriend again. “What’s happening on your end of the world?”

“Ah, same old same old. I think I might get a promotion soon, though! I’m at least 70% sure my boss is about to make me prep cook.”

“Wow, that’s great, Mikey,” April knows that there’s more to this than just promotions. Donnie wouldn’t be having a Why Me moment otherwise. “How’s everyone else?”

“Boring shit, mostly. Raph sold a few good paintings, an’ Leo’s been getting a lot of good shifts lately. I gave kitty a new toy recently, too, and she hasn’t let it go since! Catnip lives up to it’s name, ha ha. She bit Leo twice just yesterday.”

April waits after the pause, feeling something else coming.

“Oh, and Leo’s a werewolf now.”

There it is.

“Mike,” April understands now why Donnie in on the curb, being comforted by the recently resurrected Casey Jones. “could you have started with the fact that your older brother is now a lycanthrope?”

“Hm. Maybe?”

“What even happened?”

“Leo took a late shift, ran into some big ass dogs on the way home last full moon, bada bing bada boom he’s bit and now cursed. We didn’t notice until the full moon on Thursday, when he, uh. Kinda transformed and ate half the couch.”

April takes a slow breath in. She’s going to need a few more cigarettes tonight, she just knows it. “Did he bite anyone else?”

“Nah. He was like, mostly cognitive, if really doggish and confused. He’s been hiding in his room ever since and won’t come out. I think he’s embarrassed about the couch incident.”

“Or maybe concerned he’ll turn one of you, too?”

“No it’s definitely the couch thing.”

April laughs, shaking her head. Three days they leave these boys unattended, and look what happens.

Casey knocks on the booth, opening the doors, and asks, “Hey, Apes? Donnie’s mumbling about dogs and couches. What’s up?”

April flicks her used butt at Casey’s feet, which he automatically stomps out. “Leo’s a werewolf,” April informs her boyfriend, and Casey makes an Oh I see noise.

“We headed back to New York, then?”

“That’d be appreciated,” Mikey says, catching Casey’s words. April nods, and Casey ducks out of the booth, headed for the van.

“I leave them alone for three days,” Donnie exclaims, throwing his hands up at the heavens. “Three days! And one of them manages to be turned into a lycanthrope. How.”

“I think our family is just special like that, hon,” April says, lip curling as Donnie curses in three languages at once. (Japanese, English, Latin. He’s too well read to curse in just one.)

“We’re very special an’ love you guys lot’s so please come home soon?” Mikey says over the phone, and April snorts.

“Give us a few days, and don’t do anything stupid before we get back.”

“Thank youuuu.”

“And tell Leo not to worry, the cavalry's on its way.”

“I’ll inform he can stop moping around like a kicked dog, now.”

“Without the canine jokes, Mikey.”

“I make no promises.”

April laughs, tells Mikey they all love him too, and hangs up. Donnie is still sitting on the curb when she steps out beside him, looking like he is still questioning what he ever did to deserve anything.

“C’mon, honey,” April encourages, hauling Donnie up by his arm. “Let’s go bail our family out of trouble. I wanted to go home and swap my clothes out anyways.”

“Three days,” Donnie repeats, gesturing at the air in exasperation. “Amazing. Incredible. I hate my family and I sincerely question how any of us manages to function around the disasters we attract.”

“Like I said,” April says, giving him a kiss on his bruised cheek. “we’re all just special like that.”

“Mgh,” Donnie says, and kisses her back instead of complaining more. Casey, probably watching the show and feeling left out, honks the horn of the van, and spurs April and Donnie into action.

April notes that she’s gone and left faint smudges on both her boys’ cheeks and lips, hardly visible in the dimming light of the evening, and is quietly pleased for that. No one else is here to see, and she thinks she deserves this bit of indulgence after all they’ve been through lately.

April rolls down the front window as she gets comfortable in the passenger seat, pressed against Donnie’s side as he sits in the middle, and smiles to herself as Casey starts up a playful banter with their boyfriend; mostly surrounding the fact that Casey’s sibling is in high school and keeping out of trouble, and Donnie’s siblings are nothing but trouble. And although Donnie agrees, he’s defensive as always of his brothers, and off the two of them go again.

April turns up the radio, listening to the synthpop it plays as they pull out of the quiet and significantly less haunted little town. Donnie lights her another cigarette without being asked to, and Casey notches up the volume as a rock song takes the place of the synthpop.

April blows smoke that flies out the window, and keeps smiling as the miles roll by.

-///-

April had one boy, through her childhood and teens, and now she has two as a young woman with wanderlust in her heart and burning curiosity in her soul. And she loves them so much she can scarcely breathe.

Things that go bump in the night beware- April O’Neil has a bat, a blood red challenge to the world, and two lanky birds of a feather at her side.

The paranormal won’t know what hit it.

#My writing #gift fic #guide-to-the-galaxy #capritello #mystery gang AU #April O'Neil #Casey Jones #Donatello #wow this is such a good au #i will never tire of it #jo hope you had an excellent birthday #and i hope you love this gift from me <333 #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt AU #spooky halloween fics #<tag for any halloween fic i put out this month ;D

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writecome-blog · 4 years

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5 Reasons Why You’ll Never Make It As An Author

The path of an author is neither a straight, or smooth one. Your readers only see the final packaged version of your work and assume you had the best of times putting it together. On your side of the page however, that book probably looks a lot different.

The loneliness you faced as you kept your head down and ignored the outside world who seemed to be having more fun than you. The struggles in your confidence as you read back over your work and convinced yourself that this was both the best and the worst you’d ever done. And then maybe the odd bottle of wine to clear your head of a character or storyline that still lived on in your head hours after you put them to bed.

Who’d want to be a writer, right? Well if that opening paragraph hasn’t made you want to give up before you begin, here’s five more things to keep in mind so you don’t come undone.

1 – You’ll Be Too Attached To Your Work – Locking yourself away, being hunched over a laptop for hours at a time means you can’t help but be attached to what you’re creating. Then there’s the characters that you know almost as well as family members. Like family members, anything negative said about them is going to affect you too. You’re going to want to stand up for them, fight back, and take any criticism they receive personally. They are your babies after all.

Because of that you’ll need to distance yourself from your work. Any attacks made on your book, are that, they’re at your book. It’s not personal, and even if it is, they don’t know you, or how great your next book is going to be. No matter how bad your book is received, if you work on your craft and put in the hours, your next work will be better.

2 – You’ll Be A One Book Wonder – In your head you see the light bulbs flashing. The microphones pushed toward your face. The eager reporters scrambling over one another fighting to get a question in. “What gave you the idea for your book?” “What’s it like having it made into a movie?” “Have you been around the theme park yet?”

Oh, the joys of writing a one hit wonder. You know how many of those there are? About as many as the unicorns running around my back garden. They might be out there, but I’ve never seen one.

I don’t like slapping anyone’s face with the hand of reality, but you’ll never retire on one book. If you do, you’ll have another bestseller, “How To Write A One Hit Wonder.” If you’ve only got one book in you and you just want to see it in print, go for it. If, however, you see your calling as being a well-known author, you better be prepared to spend a lot of butt on seat time. Sorry, for bursting your bubble.

3 – You’ll Be Afraid Of Seeking Criticism – Like asking for a punch in the face, you’ll avoid criticism like the plague. Who in their right mind would? But who said being an author was a sign of sanity? Because of that, you’ll go out with cap in hand, asking people what they thought of your book. But while that may the words coming out of your mouth, the thoughts in your head will be completely different. Your internal dialog will go like this… “Please, say you like it, please say you like it…. I’ll even pay you to say you like it.”

For those that like it, you’ll get those that don’t. And you’ll also get those that think someone should take a hammer to your fingers. That’s life. You’ll never be able to please everyone. If the thought of asking for reviews feels like putting your neck on a chopping block, read and memorize number 1. Then go out there and close your eyes.

4 – You’ll Try To Do It All On Your Own – If you think you can handle, the writing, editing, book cover design, blurb writing, promotion work all on your own, you’ll find out very soon that you can’t. There will be things that you’re good at, things you’re not, and things you know nothing about. Because of that your writing, sanity, and book sales will be affected.

Trying to do all of this on your own is like driving your car with the hand brake on and two wheels missing. Like that shuddering and wobbling vehicle, you’ll make it eventually to your destination. But by the time you get there, you’ll be exhausted and won’t ever want to do it again. There’s a reason large publishing companies have departments for each of those tasks. It’s also why they hire a professional to create a great book cover, and not Sam that has two months experience with Photoshop.

If you don’t have the money, outsource the weakest parts of your system to someone who knows what they’re doing. You mightn’t have a fully working car but adding a wheel or two will sure make that journey a whole lot better.

5 – You’re Not A Business Owner – If you were a store owner with a stockroom full of peach tins and no one in town liked peaches, you’d say that guy had to get his shop in order. “What an idiot, right?” But every day, authors write books for audiences that don’t exist, write the wrong type of book, or spent a fortune on book illustrations that they can never recoup.

Your book may be the greatest thing since the earth cooled. But if no one wants to read it, what’s the point in writing a sequel? If your book cost you $300 dollars for illustrations, but only brought in $50, was it a good investment? If you’re happy writing vanity projects, I’m here to say keep going. But if like that store owner you want your book business to be a success, you’re going to want to rethink what you’re doing. If something you’re doing isn’t building your business, it’s costing you both money and time. Money you can get back, time you can’t.

Now If you’re still crazy enough to give it a go after reading all of that, the best of luck to you.

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verbumincarcerem · 7 years

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you were made to suffer

Prologue

Chapter 1: A New World Order

Thick inside the Cleigne region, a lone daemon hunter crouched behind a rock, sizing up her prey. Two Black Flans and a Lich, the latter’s long robes trailing silently across the grass as an orb of sickly green light bobbed around it. Not a single one of them aware of her presence. Which was good. It wouldn't do for her to get overwhelmed because their blood-chilling cries drew other daemons to her presence. All of Eos was crawling with daemons ever since darkness blotted out the sun. That had been close to a year ago.

Using her flashlight, Melody Solariis glanced at her watch, the light causing the crystals encircling the white face to gleam and the mint green band to appear richer in color than it actually was. Bright and feminine, the watch looked out of place amongst her ensemble of black clothes and sharp weapons, but it was the one thing she’d kept from her old life in Accordo. The one thing she never took off. She wondered why she still checked time with it, though. Currently, it read ten minutes past three o'clock PM, and while the time was accurate, it didn't change the fact that it was pitch dark out here. Just one more area to search, then she could finish off these daemons and hoof it to her truck. She just hoped it would still be there waiting for her in one piece. Stealthily, she crouch-walked around the rock, making sure her footfalls didn't crunch beneath the grass or snap something louder. She kept an eye on the daemons in case they still somehow became alerted to her presence. With what seemed to take forever but was only minutes, she skirted around them and finally made it to her destination. An abandoned hut amidst a series of hills. Melody searched it as quickly as she could, spotting a water canteen lying haphazardly on the ground and a few cigarette butts scattered here and there. The canteen was still close to full. This had been the place those hunters had gotten in over their heads, that's for sure. One of many places. It happened all the time now. Hunters left to deal with the daemons; not all of them came back. On this particular hunt, three had gone to kill an Iron Giant causing particular trouble near the road. It had proven too much for them, and they'd lost track of their surroundings in their panic to get away. And this little hut? It was the last place they had all been together and alive. One hunter had died for sure. One came back to deliver the news. As for the third? Well, that's why she was here. Melody cleared the hut and started descending down the hills, keeping her flashlight on its lowest setting. It wasn't a good idea to travel these lands alone much less hunt, but she didn't have anyone else to count on. Didn't really want any tag-alongs either, though she did work with other hunters when the situation called for it. Overall, though, it was better just having herself to look after. No one dragging her down. And no one butting their nose in where it didn't belong and asking questions. Her shoes slipped in the dewy grass, and she slid the rest of the way down the hill. A screech echoed to her from somewhere nearby, and she spotted a fiery Bomb weaving its merry little way through a copse of trees, thankfully not in her direction. She'd taken a few steps along the base of the hills when she heard a series of rasping whispers. "Hel-help… some… some…one…someone…please." Melody quickened her pace, flashlight in one hand and canteen in the other. At last, her feeble light landed on a muddy boot, climbed up a leg, an arm, landed on the hunter's face, his blond beard speckled with dirt and black blood. "I'm here," she told him. "Everything's going to be okay." "H….hel…please," he kept saying over and over, not moving, eyes staring off into space, barely getting the words out. Melody studied him closely. He was delirious, and while all his limbs seemed unbroken, she spotted a rip in his trousers, the ankle swollen and bloody underneath. She put the canteen to his lips, knowing he had to be dehydrated, but the water merely dribbled from his lips down his beard. He coughed suddenly, and through the spray of water was the unmistakable black mist of miasma. Shit. She knew what was wrong now. And sure as hell no potion in the world could fix it. Shining the flashlight on his body confirmed it. The blackened veins on his neck, his left hand. The hunter was infected with the Starscourge. Soon, he would become a daemon they'd have to kill. Not if I have anything to say about it. "Sorry, bud," Melody said, drawing a dagger from her boot. "But I can't have you conscious for this." Using the base of the dagger’s handle, she knocked him out with one hit, his body slumping further in the grass. Melody threw a surreptitious look over her shoulders, spying for daemons, other people, anyone who could witness what she was about to do. But there was no one, so with a shaky breath, she closed her eyes, dug deep, and prayed to her silent gods that this wouldn't be the one that finished her.

Once she opened her eyes, she caught the faintest hint of pure white light lingering on her hands before it faded away. Her arms and legs felt leaden, like she'd run a marathon without stopping, and her head felt light and aching. Nausea bubbled up in her stomach, but she pushed it down, swigging water from her own canteen.

Standing, she looked at the man again. Throat and hands clean, his breath normal and clear of miasma. Thank Bahamut, her divine magic still worked, though it was clearly getting weaker, and she was getting weaker trying to force it. She checked her watch again. Ten minutes had passed while she'd healed him. Shit. Standing, she administered a Phoenix Down on him, watching with impatience as his minor wounds vanished and his eyes fluttered open. He tried to sit up. "What's—?" "You're"—her mind jumped, trying to remember what the other hunter had called him—"Fat Belly, I presume?" The man's face went a little pink under his beard, and as he stood, she could tell the nickname was an apt one. "Yeah?" "I'm Mel. The Hunter Association sent me out here to find you. Mission accomplished. Let's go home." She started the trek up the hill, and he wisely followed, his ankle no longer a problem. "They sent a little girl to find me?" he said in disbelief. Melody glared at him over her shoulder. "This little girl can leave you to find your own way back to Lestallum if you want, big boy." Not to mention kept your sorry ass from becoming a daemon. Melody clenched her teeth to keep that admission from slipping. She didn't want anyone knowing about that. And he seemed not to remember how close to damnation and extermination he had been, and that was fine with her. They crested the hill, and Melody was almost happy to find that the Flans and Lich were still right where she'd left them. Clearing them would give them a direct line toward the truck. She could still see it perched on the side of the road under a street lamp, right where she'd left it. She handed Fat Belly the extra canteen, not looking at him as she repined her flashlight to her shirt and drew her sword. "Sip your water, and stay out of my way." Without waiting for a response, she dove into the fray.

Lestallum greeted her like an old friend from school that she'd rather treasure all the memories about than ever see again. It wasn't the city's fault. In fact, it used to be one of Melody's favorite places to visit in Lucis with its food, spirited energy, nightlife, and good, old-fashioned feminism. But that had been before it had become the place most prepared to handle refugees fleeing from the daemons. Now it was less of a tourist getaway and more of a fortress town, and all the people were just squeezed in. Like sardines in a thimble. It was nice to see how the community had come together to help each other, but the warm, fuzzy feeling did nothing to assuage how suffocated Melody felt whenever she tried to live here. She parked as close to the city's lights as she could, the parking lots around always clogged with cars. Fat Belly jumped out of the truck, and together they made their way towards Hunter HQ. "Hey, uh, Mel," he said, stopping her in her tracks. She looked at him with a blank face. "What I said back there, I…" Her blank face held. He sighed. "It came out all wrong, and I didn't mean… What I mean to say is, thank you for what you did for me out there." His hands rose to his hips, and he stared at the ground before meeting her gaze. "I reckon I'd be daemon food by now if you hadn't come and gotten me out." You'd be so much worse than that. Melody held his stare for a beat longer before shrugging, a blasé smile on her face. "You're welcome. And no problem, really. Just be a lot more careful next time." She eyed his beer gut before suggesting, "And maybe work on some endurance training a bit?" Fat Belly laughed. "Thanks, but I think my hunting days are over. You crazy bastards make it look easy." "No arguments there." "Right, so I’ll leave it to the professionals from now on.” He punched a fist into his hand. “Still, wish I’d’a killed at least one of them things before I ‘retired,’ but I know when to call it quits. Anyway, there's plenty I can do just around the city to help out, so I guess I'll start there." At last, her smile became genuine. "That's a good idea." Melody dropped him off at Hunter HQ, collecting her payment while Fat Belly embraced his other ex-hunter friend, Big T, with a tearful hug. Melody saluted them both and headed over to Iris' place at the Leville hotel. Iris’ dark, cropped hair bounced above her shoulders as she gave Mel a onceover at the door. "Been a long day already?" "It's been a long year. Can I use your shower?" "You always know just what to say. But seriously, sometimes you sound just like my brother. Is it a hunter thing?" Iris rolled her eyes before grinning and letting her in. "I wouldn't know. How's he doing, by the way?" "Fine. Off with Ignis at the Hammerhead while Prompto's helping out here." "Uh-huh," Melody said, her voice echoing inside the bathroom while she deposited her bag of supplies on the tile floor and started dropping clothes left and right. "And how is he really doing?" Iris was silent for a moment. Melody heard the bed creak, the girl no doubt sitting upon it. "It's just… We all thought Noctis would be back by now. It's almost been a year since he..." Since the would-be king of Lucis disappeared without a trace, taking much of the people's hope with him. But not Melody's. She didn't put much stock in kings, not even the so-called holy line of Lucis. In the end, they were just people like anyone else. Beating this darkness wasn't something that one person could do; it would take all of them. Melody knew that this, too, would pass, someday, and she would try her damnedest to survive long enough to see it. Still, it was hard hearing the ache in Iris' voice, hard to watch her heart break bit by bit. Insomnia had been devastated once Niflheim had invaded, and though Melody had only met and befriended Iris when the girl had first fled to Lestallum, she knew how much Iris had lost. What she kept losing and risking. "It'll be alright," Melody told Iris, pulling a clean change of clothes out of her pack. "Didn't you tell me Noctis was a little lazy? He's probably just taking his sweet time right now, but when he gets back, you can clobber him one good time for making everybody wait." A small laugh came from Iris. "You know what the sad thing is? You're probably right." Melody showered and changed, emerging from the bathroom with her long, brown hair still dripping wet. "Thanks so much, again. Don't ever check out of here, okay?" "I don't understand why you just don't move in here with us. There's plenty of room. It's mostly just Dustin, Monica, Talcott, and me, with the boys coming and going." Melody eyed the room with its rich tapestries draping the windows, the lush carpet that was starting to see some wear from all the foot traffic, the plump queen sized beds, the cozy sofa. It did seem like a nice little place to hole up for a while. "Thanks, but I'm fine in my truck, promise," Melody said, making a face. "Besides, I don't really like kids." Iris rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "You would like Talcott." "I'll talk your word for it." They exchanged goodbyes, both emphasizing to the other that if they ever needed anything to please let them know. Melody wove through the alleys of Lestallum, past the people and shanty towns and food carts, and made it back out to her truck just in time. She'd barely leaned her seat back before she passed out, the exhaustion of the day—and her use of her dwindling magic—taking its toll.

Her watch read 6:13 PM.

Gravel crunched under her boots as she walked down the wide expanse of gray concrete before her. The street was cracked and in some places utterly destroyed. A steel beam from a nearby skyscraper had fallen, one end buried deep in the asphalt, the other end lodged inside the fifth floor of an apartment complex. Glass and stone everywhere. Overturned cars. A caved-in subway entrance. Buildings missing half of their floors or demolished altogether.

The city was a wreck, but she pressed on, making her slow, careful way past the obstacles in her path. But why? What business did she have here? She found no other soul to speak to, no one to ask. When she got to the end of the street, she found that her progress was halted completely. An entire building had fallen across the street she traveled on, concrete, metal, and glass twisted and crumbled on top of each other in a towering heap. No way to move it or climb her way over, and no other way through. But she could not turn back, not now. Why? Instead, she swiveled, reassessing the area. There, at the end of the street and still mercifully intact, was a subway entrance. With any luck, the underground path would lead her past all this debris, and she could press on. With a bracing breath, she jogged toward the entrance, heart pounding with anticipation. Not much longer until she— WHACK! Melody jerked awake in her truck as something popped against her windshield. Of course, no sun greeted her. It was black as tar out there. Looking out her windows one by one, she couldn't spy anything wrong; her windshield wasn't cracked, and there were no daemons around. Probably just a stray rock or water bottle that got picked up by the wind. The hunter swiped a hand down her face and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, waiting for her heart to stop racing. Not the best way to wake up, but it could've been much worse. Besides, she was getting tired of the recurring dreams. Melody might like them more if they featured her home in Accordo. She hadn't been back since she'd sold her house along with most of her possessions to help pay for this monster-hunting gig. Some people might consider her decision a bad one, but it beat trying to compete for a cushy job in one of the few, clogged, sanctuary towns. Turnover rate was at an all-time low for those; meanwhile, the daemon-hunting business was booming. Instead, her dreams lately seemed to focus on one place: the Crown City of Insomnia, and for the life of her, she didn't know why. She had been to visit once with her parents when they were still alive. They'd taken her when she'd turned sixteen, a decade ago, and while she'd enjoyed the trip, she didn't exactly miss the city. Whatever. Dreams only made sense in dreams, and she tended not to dwell on them. Melody checked her watch and cursed. She'd slept for over ten hours. Twisting in her seat, she rifled through the clothes she had strewn in the backseat, looking for something clean to change into. Let's see, she had a black t-shirt and black capris she could wear, or maybe that black t-shirt with those black jeans. Oh, and she had a gray tank top if she really wanted to be daring and add a splash of color. Honestly, she loved black as much as the next person. Slimming, matched everything, easy camouflage in the dark. But couldn't the hunters' shops try for a little more variety? There were some days she missed dressing like a civilian. With an ache of longing, Melody recalled the dresses she'd bought in Altissia after she'd finally saved up enough money to go shopping there. That elegant blue dress with the flowing sleeves and the billowing skirt. That sexy, dangerous red number with the tight bodice and tighter waist. Oh, it had hurt her to sell those, but she couldn't have brought them with her. Where would she even wear them now if she had them? Altissia? Leviathan had pretty much wiped the city off the map, and wasn't that a sobering thought while she pined for material things? The Hydraean had taken the Oracle from them, too. No one would ever forget where they were and what they were doing when they'd heard Lady Lunafreya was incontrovertibly dead. Mel had been in Accordo, eating at a diner in town when the news came over the radio. There hadn't been a dry eye in the place. Now the one person who could hold back the dark and cure the people was gone. The one person who could've possibly told Melody why she possessed a sliver of divine magic without a hint of a bloodline of either Oracles or kings in her veins. Melody had no illusions about taking Lunafreya's place. If Lunafreya's magic had been a tide—powerful, assuring, and constant—then Melody's was a spark—weak, unreliable, and fleeting. And ever since the Starscourge had come, Melody could feel that magic being suppressed if not slowly vanishing altogether. Besides, Luna's reputation had been one of glowing regard, poise, and selflessness. People traveled from continents far and wide to see her, to be healed by her. If anyone came at Melody with that kind of adoration, hands reaching out to touch her, she knew she'd bolt. She wasn't a savior, not even close, and most important of all, she was no Oracle. And that suited her just fine. Better that no one knew she could heal, so they wouldn't expect too much. Better that she blessed any weapons she found with radiant magic and left them easy for hunters to find around Lucis, so no one would watch her too closely and wonder why all of hers were especially effective against daemons. Better that no one asked the impossible, so they wouldn't punish her later for failing to achieve it. Melody changed clothes in her truck in rapid, practiced movements before strolling into the city, lightly armed with a sword across her back and a dagger in her boot. The marketplace was bustling as usual, vendors rushing to and fro to keep food and medical supplies stocked. More arms dealers could be found back here, too, but Melody wasn't here for those. Instead, she made her way to the merchant stalls, checking their wares one by one.

An arm suddenly slung itself around her shoulders while a chipper voice said, “Hey, Mel, what’s the frown for?”

“Hey, Prompto,” she said, trying to match the young man’s cheerfulness while still maintaining a grim façade. “They’re out of tomatoes again.”

“Ooh, that is a bummer.” Prompto released her, turning his attention to a young, brown-haired boy wearing cargo pants and a plaid shirt. “Talcott thinks so, too.”

Melody knew Talcott only vaguely through Iris. She waited politely for the boy to join in on the conversation, but when he merely smiled shyly and nodded, she asked Prompto, “Want to come tomato-pickin’ with me?”

Prompto winced, his blond hair shifting about his face as he moved from foot to foot. “Aw, Mel, I would but I can’t right now. I’m actually about to leave with a couple guys. Holly wants us to check on a pylon that’s been acting up. You’re welcome to come with if you want.”

“Thanks, but I want some tomatoes.”

Nodding wisely, Prompto said, “To each their own mission. Wait—you’re not going alone, are you?”

“Nah.” Yes.

The blond sighed in relief. “Okay, good. That bad habit of yours really stresses me out, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, we gotta go,” Prompto told her. “C’mon, Talcott. Iris is waiting for you.”

“Okay!” Talcott said, waving to her. “Bye, miss!”

Melody raised a hand to wave at them both before returning to the matter at hand. She felt a little bad now for lying, but… Prompto wasn’t her keeper. She didn’t really have or want anyone worrying about her. Besides, there was a grove full of tomatoes close to Lestallum. She’d be there and back before the daemons even took notice, so there was no reason to drag someone with her when they could be doing something more exciting than food gathering.

She walked up to the first merchant she saw, saying, “Hey, I’m going grocery shopping. Got an empty crate I can use? I’ll bring it back full of Lucian tomatoes if you do.”

Several merchants spared her crates, so she’d ended up with over half a dozen stacked in the bed of her truck. She didn’t leave immediately, shopping around Lestallum to restock on curatives, antidotes, and additional supplies. Finishing up a meat skewer, Melody hopped in her truck and drove two miles to where she remembered the vegetable grove was. She’d only need to take a few short trips into the valley and back, and then she could be back in Lestallum well before dinner time.

Unfortunately, she got a nasty shock when she tugged the first stack of crates toward her, for greeting her from behind them was a small, shy face with a please-don’t-be-mad look.

“Talcott!” she exclaimed, hardly believing her eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Um, helping you get tomatoes, ma’am?”

Melody could pull her own hair out. Iris, you were wrong. I do not like this kid. “No, we’re going back. It’s too dangerous for you to be out here.” There weren’t any daemons around yet, but that could change at any second. She would not be accountable for this kid.

Talcott jumped down from the bed of her truck, following her. “No, please. I can help! Besides, Prompto’s right. No one should go out by themselves, but I could tell you were going to despite what you told him, and I was right!”

Melody stopped, her hand on the handle of the door as she studied the boy.

“Talcott, how old are you?” she said at last.

“Just turned eight, ma’am.”

The boy was eight, and he was both perceptive as hell and already came up to her shoulders?

Fucking hell.

Life pissed on her once again.

“You really want to help?” she said, fixing him with a hard look. “There’s daemons out here. You know that, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I won’t get in the way. I promise.” Talcott looked down at his shoes, hands in his pockets. “I’m not old enough to hunt, so I just want to do something useful for a change.”

Melody sighed. Shiva’s tits, he looked so damn tragic, and she’d lose so much time taking him back to Lestallum. She couldn’t leave him behind in the truck, either. What if he decided to wander off and something happened?

“Fine, but you have to promise me something.” The hunter settled the gravest look she could muster on the kid. “You do as I say when I say it. If I tell you to run, hide, or leave me behind, you don’t argue with me. You do it. And if something happens and we do get separated,”—she gestured him toward the truck, pointing through her window—“there’s a two-way radio in the dashboard. Hole yourself up in here and call for help. Someone from Lestallum will come get you. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And drop the ma’am.” Melody smiled to lighten the mood. “We’re technically hunting buddies now, so call me Mel, okay? And take this. It’ll make me feel better.”

She handed him an extra flashlight and the dagger she kept in her boot, and he threaded the latter safely through his belt loop. To compensate, she strapped her bow and quiver set to her back and belted her sword to her waist.

They got through two trips and six crates together, Melody carrying two crates at a time and keeping a watchful eye on the dark while Talcott managed one and stayed mercifully quiet. The kid was tactful and could read cues well, Melody would give him that.

By the third trip, Melody was convinced they were being watched. Her arms pricked as she scanned the sloping plains in between the trees and boulders scattered around, all of them dark shadows blending into darker night, her visible perception miniscule beyond the reach of her flashlight. But there was nothing around, no daemons, wildlife, or people, and the trees didn't so much as rustle with a breeze. She knew she was being paranoid on Talcott’s behalf, but she couldn’t shake the feeling. "I'm not seeing a lot of red ones left, Mel," said Talcott, crouching among the tomato plants, his small light darting to and fro. “Should I pick some of the green ones, too?”

“Hmm, yeah, people like eating those. Just a few, though. We need to leave most of them to ripen—”

A burst of black and purple miasma rippled all around them, and ten Goblins emerged with out-of-sync screeches.

“Get back to the truck!” Melody ordered, dropping the crate and tossing the keys to Talcott. She spared enough of a glance to see Talcott take off running before she drew her bow.

A Goblin leapt for her, but she shot it out of the air with an arrow infused with radiant light. She killed four more Goblins just as quickly, moving so she kept them from surrounding her.

But the Goblins were quick, and soon she was littered with scratches across her arms, her face. One tried to climb onto her back, but she blasted it into nothing, her divine magic reacting to her panic. Another Goblin was caught in the crossfire, and it died with a shriek.

Using magic cost her, and soon she was breathing hard, fighting to keep up. When she ran out of arrows, she drew her sword, hacking and slashing until the last Goblin crumpled, dissolving into the miasma from whence it came.

Only to be replaced by two Wraiths and a Ronin. Fuck. Melody leapt back to avoid the Ronin’s quick draw, barely missing getting her stomach sliced open. But the Wraiths were drifting toward her fast. Any one of them she could handle on her own, but all three together? She was dead, unless she ran. Her back hit a tree, and she realized they had trapped her. “When did you lot get so smart?” she asked, bringing her sword up. The roar of an engine was the only warning she had before two blinding lights appeared over the hill to her right, her truck blazing a trail over the bumpy terrain. The daemons cried out with pain as the light hit them, the Wraiths immediately scattering. The Ronin wasn’t so quick, and before Melody realized what had happened, her truck had slammed straight into it, miasma exploding at the point of impact. Melody watched, stunned, as her truck braked to a hard, jerky stop. She opened the driver's side door to reveal Talcott, hands gripped on the steering wheel, feet reaching the brake pedal while his head couldn't see over the hood. "Did I get it?" he asked her, voice shaking. Melody's face split into a grin. "Kid, you didn't just get it. You wasted it!" Okay, Iris, I was wrong. I love this kid. She surged into the driver's seat and put the truck in park as Talcott scrambled back into the passenger's seat. Spotting the Wraiths drifting closer again, Melody threw the truck into reverse, cutting the wheel to spin the truck one-hundred eighty degrees. Branches scraped against the paint, her windshield cracked to hell, but she paid no mind, focusing on getting them both out of there and back on the road. They made it in one piece, no airbags deployed, tires still inflated. Six out of seven crates of tomatoes wasn't that bad, either, considering. "Talcott," Melody said sharply before laughing at the panicked look on his face. "That was amazing! You saved my ass back there." "You're not mad?" "No, I mean, yes! You could've gotten hurt! And what were you thinking, getting behind the wheel?" "Grandpa used to let me drive his car up and down the driveway," the boy explained. "I figured I could maybe do it and just go a little bit faster?" "Well, thank you, Grandpa." She smiled and ruffled Talcott's hair. "And thank you, even though you scared me to death doing it." She propped her head up on her hand, arm braced against the door. "Oh, that could've been really bad. Please don’t ever do that again." "I killed that daemon, though, right?” Talcott was practically bouncing in his seat, a big, cheesy grin on his face. “Does that mean I'm ready to be a hunter now?" "Ha! Don't you know, kid? It takes at least ten years of training to become an expert in daemonic vehicular homicide.” She flicked his nose. “So don't get cocky. You've got a long way to go." "Ten years is way too long! What about when I get taller than you instead?" "That's not hard to do, so no." Talcott flopped back in his seat with a comedic frown, but a glance up at the windshield made it become genuine. "I'm sorry about wrecking your truck, though. I just didn't know what else to do." Melody studied the damage. She spotted that the hood of the truck had a nice Ronin-sized dent in it, too. "Eh, don't worry about it too much." She grinned. "I know a good mechanic."

#yay backstory #otp: more than you bargained for #even though ardyn's not in this chapter oops #a decade of darkness au #you were made to suffer

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theastonishingkylejackson · 6 years

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When It Comes To Getting Over Your Pain, You Can’t Drink It Away, Snort It Away Or Screw It Away, You Have To Work It Out – Written By Kelly Lynn Meadows, Owner of Dollhouse Boutique and Salon, Contributing Columnist for The Astonishing Tales Digital Magazine

The Astonishing Kelly Meadows, in her clay mask… she really classes up a clay mask……

It’s early in the morning New Years Day and I woke up from good sleep filled with vivid dreams, and grateful that I am not hungover or having to worry about where I left my car.

I, instead, never even considered making plans but chose to spend the day and night, New Year’s Eve, at home with my slightly crazy and dysfunctional family.

My youngest child helped me find a recipe for drumsticks out of one of the new keto cookbooks and actually gladly liked being of assistance to me in the kitchen. He was thrilled that “his recipe” was so delicious.

Then I spent the rest of the evening studying my Personal trainer certification course, even finally getting in the group discussion question, passing the quiz (that took me three tries) and starting the next unit. I took a break once to watch some Family Guy with The wee one.

He never even made it to midnight and chose to go to bed, so I closed up the textbook to ring in the countdown in my bathtub, aka “office” with a face make on listening to Stevie Nicks and covered in bubbles, sweating. There were a few moments of angst as I thought it was my first year without the ex.

And I realized I would have no new year’s kiss, and I am single and sober. I’ve always been the wild, fun, party girl known for my antics and filling the space with my presence and noise.

The last nearly decade of my life, my shenanigans were only alcohol and weed fueled, but if I look back, back beyond my Ex, and before Rollerderby, I am reminded of the years of my life that are a blur because I was wasted. I hid it well. I still functioned. I went to school and had a job and a small child and still kept my life in order.

I partied alone way more than with others. During the darkest time of my life in the post Katrina New Orleans, I can really look back on those days and relate to what drives a person to use.

Alone, separated from my oldest child, I was binging on cocaine and whiskey and xananx. Watching people die regularly and still not caring. I’d shut my curtains and turn off my phone and sit in my little apartment and continue to party. Only I wasn’t having fun I was praying that maybe this time I wouldn’t wake up. I couldn’t deal with the guilt of being separated from my boy who back then was only 5 and I was completely alone in the world. I always telling myself that I wasn’t addicted to anything that I was just an abuser, that addicts lived in squalor and filth and couldn’t keep a job.

Only recently did I find out there’s a name for that and it’s a thing, called a functioning addict. Even after those years were over and I stopped doing hard drugs and left Nola to straighten my act up, it was the same bleeding hole in my soul I tried to stuff.

I used men for years like objects and toys and blew threw them faster than I drive. I’ve shopped and ate and drank wine and smoked weed because I justified it. I had become known for being the funny salty wino, in the last few years. Especially the 2.5 years I was retired from rollerderby and separated from my tribe.

My children have suffered with suicide attempts and depression and behavioral problems so severe the little one would spend six hours a day cycling through irrational, explosive tantrums. So to deal I ate and drank and smoked weed to dull it all.

I manged to lose a bunch of weigh and get fit and get back to rollerderby, but was still smoking so much that I couldn’t do anything without it. I couldn’t drive or leave home or do anything with friends because I had nothing to say. I was tired from talking at the salon all day and just wanted to get home, be left alone and get stoned so I could feel better. only I realized I wasn’t feeling better.

I had become the butt of everyone’s wine memes and that I couldn’t even get stoned anymore. This past summer there was a pretty heavy break up and although I thought I was good and moved on, it became apparent that I wasn’t after making some pretty horrible alcohol-fueled vaguebook posts.

If there’s anything in this world I don’t like it’s being embarrassed and having to apologize for my own behavior.

A good friend called me and so kindly and gently reminded me that I’m so much more that, and reminded me what my life be like if I was living up to my full potential.

This friend said he wouldn’t judge me and would still be my friend regardless but to consider what he was saying. He said, Kelly you’re already doing well in life, business owner, athlete, successful single mom – what else could you accomplish if you gave up the wine and the weed?

I guess everything in the universe is about timing and those words right then really hit home and resonated in my soul. So I started with the wine, that was so easy to eliminate. Then I was like, I will never give up my pot and it’s legal in Oregon where I live. It’s been my best friend for so long, always there for me getting me through my morning coffee and my hard nights and my everything.

I stewed on the possibility for a few weeks when one morning I wrote to that friend and asked, ‘Do you really think I could quit smoking weed after this long?” After a few encouraging words from him I put it away. telling myself it was just for today and it wasn’t permanent and I was only going to step out of the cloud to see what it was like. To be able to focus more and stop making such stupid little mistakes, to be able to push my lung capacity to be a better athlete for my team, to be a better mother and friend and best human I could.

It’s been six weeks now since I’ve had alcohol and four since I put down the weed. My word, it hasn’t been easy to give up my smelly green friend who has been with me daily since I was like 17. I couldn’t sleep for weeks and was used to just passing out stoned and waking up from a dreamless sleep. I’ve spent more time crying and trying to regulate my emotions than I’ve smiled.

I lifted off two veils and hadn’t realized I hadn’t even been feeling all of my own feelings before. It wasn’t even until recently that I figured out I’ve been a functioning addict my whole adult life.

Two nights ago tho I found myself sitting in on my first NA meeting, even tried to blow it off cause I was like I don’t belong here. I don’t need a damn meeting, but ok what the hell I’ll go once. I feel like I’m drowning in my own feelings lately, I didn’t even know I had so many ‘cuz I have always just been stoned. I would smoke and drink to take the edge off so I can deal with my emotions, only I wasn’t dealing, I was cramming everything to the bottom while I just kept getting more stoned or drunk to fill that hole.

The hole that’s been in my soul since the summer I turned 16. I lost my dad to a heart attack when he was 51-years-old, and my horse was killed tragically in the same three months span and I don’t think I ever was able to close that bleeding hole.

Maybe it’s only coming to me now because I’ve been sober long enough to let the smoke clear and show me where my blood was spilling. Turns out you can’t drink it, snort it or screw away the pain. Cuz believe me I’ve tried. I tried for years to fill the loss of my father with men. Lots of men. I used them, they used me. All in the name of fun or so I thought. I tried meth, and cocaine and ectasy, ketamine, heroin, vicodin, whiskey.

Although it’s been over 10 years and I’ve just been the funny wino stoner, the speaker at the NA meeting that night said something that I had to write down and take home with me.

He said,“Once you start cleaning up your mess you’re not going to want to turn back.”

I sat there that meeting and with tears streaming down my face, I was relating to so many of their stories of hope, strength and despair.

We keep what we have by giving, there is always someone to stand for me when I can’t stand for myself.

It’s true.

I don’t know if I’m going to go back to NA or how often, but I do know that now that I’ve started cleaning up my own mess and that feels astonishing.

I’m The Astonishing Kelly Lynn Meadows, owner of The DollHouse Boutique and Salon and Contributor for The Astonishing Tales Digital Magazine and I Am Astonishing, and I Approve This Message.

To view more of Kelly Lynn Meadows work, check her out on Instagram by clicking HERE.

You can check her out on Facebook by clicking HERE and find links to her social media accounts for her hair boutique, The Dollhouse Salon.

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The Road To Recovery Is Never Easy, But It’s Worth It: Kelly’s Story Of Recovering From Addiction When It Comes To Getting Over Your Pain, You Can't Drink It Away, Snort It Away Or Screw It Away, You Have To Work It Out - …

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foodismylifeandpassion · 7 years

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8 Dangerous And Shocking Ingredients Hidden In Your Foods

As a qualified fitness coach and wellbeing mentor I've assessed a great deal of weight control plans and feast designs throughout the years. I generally ask "So what is your eating regimen like?" And the most well-known reaction is... "Goodness my eating regimen's quite great really." It's not until the point that we dive further into what individuals are devouring once a day where we begin to understand that their eating regimen wasn't that solid all things considered.

Because a nourishment item is perched on a general store rack doesn't imply that it's OK to eat. Consider it... Youngsters can eat colored pencils however we don't call pastels sustenance. In this manner, why are we putting such a large number of inert and supplement empty sustenances and also many known poisons into our bodies nowadays?

The nourishment organizations surely don't make it simple. The majority of the sustenance marks don't bode well because of the considerable number of codes and unpronounceable names. However, did you realize that there are lawful escape clauses where makers can add certain fixings and chemicals to the item, yet state on the mark that the item doesn't contain those fixings by any means? Crazy isn't it!

As you read on you'll come to acknowledge why an ever increasing number of individuals are beginning to eat crisp and sound natural nourishments to maintain a strategic distance from these offensive fixings. Beneath I've illustrated 8 risky and stunning fixings covered up in your nourishments that you ought to know about.

1. Radiator fluid

Indeed you read amend... Liquid catalyst is the thing that goes into the radiator of your auto so it won't over warmth yet in addition won't solidify up in colder atmospheres. It's called propylene glycol, otherwise called propane-1,2-diol or E1520. It's a substance that has numerous modern uses, for example, Corexit, which is an oil dispersant utilized for oil slicks in the sea. It's likewise utilized as a part of pharmaceutical medications and beautifying agents, directly through to many frozen yogurts.

Fortunately for the people in the European Union, they have not cleared propylene glycol as a sustenance added substance or nourishment review item. My recommendation, influence your own particular ice to cream and quit devouring items that contain this synthetic.

2. Human Hair

Proteins are the building squares of life and are comprised of amino acids. Despite the fact that they are useful for your wellbeing, I'm certain you'd concur that there must be a superior approach to expand the time span of usability of a few items other than utilizing human hair or duck quills.

The amino-corrosive L-Cysteine is utilized to draw out the time span of usability of numerous items, for example, business breads. The L-Cysteine that is utilized to draw out these sustenances regularly originates from duck and chicken quills and in addition horns from bovines that have been butchered. However the most regularly utilized form originates from human hair. Truly, you read that accurately.

Reports have demonstrated that the hair used to infer L-Cysteine for the most part originates from China, where it's gathered from hair salons and hairstyling parlors, at that point handled. Most fast food chains include this type of L-Cysteine to their burger buns and rolls.

To abstain from expending human hair or duck plumes in your sustenances, take a stab at purchasing newly heated breads from your neighborhood dough puncher as L-Cysteine isn't in the flour, yet added to the blend amid generation of breads and so forth. Surprisingly better, make your own.

3. Arsenic

Arsenic is a known cancer-causing agent, which implies that it causes tumor in living tissue. The tragic thing about this harmful component is that it appears to keep appearing in our nourishment supplies. It's in everything from breakfast oats and rice, through to organic product juice and you're drinking water. Some of the time at levels up to 2 - 3 times what is viewed as sheltered. It's additionally been appeared to be in numerous protein powders. Indeed, you read that accurately also... those costly protein powders that many individuals squander their cash on have been appeared to contain this poisonous component among others.

Many wines and brews have additionally been appeared to contain arsenic, for the most part the clearer ones. To channel these drinks they utilize diatomaceous earth, which is a characteristic item however it contains press and different components, for example, arsenic.

So to keep away from this poison, get a decent quality water channel for your home and drink wine or brew that is unfiltered. The unfiltered wine and lager additionally contain more supplements.

4. Butt-centric Glands

This one sounds decent doesn't it... Butt-centric organs anybody? Not this time!

A great many people don't understand that a portion of the flavors utilized as a part of your most loved desserts in addition to other things, originates from the castor sacs of beavers, which is situated at their backside of the creature. This discharge is called castoreum and is utilized to stamp the beaver's domain. Because of the nearness of the castor sacs to the beaver's butt-centric organs, castoreum can be a mix of pee, emissions from the castor organs and also discharges from the butt-centric organs.

Castoreum is utilized to enhance vanilla, raspberry and strawberry dessert and is a Food and Drug Administration (FDA) endorsed sustenance added substance in numerous well known frozen yogurt brands. It's likewise used to season numerous refreshments, for example, protein and feast substitution drinks. You will for the most part think that its marked as "Normal Flavoring". Isn't that extraordinary, so for all you know, a considerable lot of these purported "regular" fixings could be butt-centric emission from different creatures.

My recommendation... once more, make your own particular frozen yogurts so you don't expend beaver droppings.

5. Borax

Borax has been restricted as a nourishment added substance in Canada and the U.S. in any case, is permitted in the European Union, despite the fact that they recorded it as a substance of high concern. It's generally used to make beauty care products, cleansers, polish coatings, fiberglass, as a motion in metallurgy and is utilized as a part of flame retardants.

In the nourishment business it's known by it's E number: E285. Borax is utilized for acridity control, firming operator and additive. It can be found in a few caviars, noodles and relying upon locale can be mixed it up of dishes to include a firm surface.

Borax has been given the reconsidered order as poisonous for proliferation - classification 1B.

6. Coal Tar

Doesn't this one sound tempting? No chance! You may figure what on earth would coal tar be doing in sustenance? Well the great old prepared sustenances industry is grinding away once more.

Such a significant number of the handled nourishment things that effortlessness the general store retires nowadays contain a considerable rundown of sustenance colors. The vast majority of those sustenance colors are gotten from coal tar and it is recorded as a known cancer-causing agent (causes growth in living tissue).

It's utilized as a part of such things as street assembling, street and asphalt fixing coats, makeup, shampoos and pharmaceutical medications.

In nourishments and drinks it's known as E102, Tartrazine or Yellow #5 and can be found in soft drinks, enhanced chips, pickles, cheddar seasoned items and in addition numerous other sustenance and refreshment things. This is simply one more motivation to keep prepared sustenances far from your body and also those of your friends and family.

7. Rat Hair

Would you like some rat hair with that? I'm certain this is something that you for the most part sprinkle over your naturally made solid suppers... Not. Well as indicated by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) it's fine to have some rat hair in your sustenance.

Because of most sustenance fabricating being handled in vast modern offices, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) has a recompense for rat hair in numerous items, in what they term "unavoidable deformities". They permit 1 rat hair for each 100g of chocolate, 5 rat hairs for every 18oz nutty spread jug and 22 rat hairs for every 100g cinnamon.

This will beyond any doubt keep me far from prepared sustenances for quite a while.

8. Bubbled Beetles

It just continues showing signs of improvement isn't that right? Presently for what reason would you require bits of creepy crawlies in your sustenance you may inquire? Known as carmine, characteristic red #4, blood red lake or E120, it's a nourishment shading made by bubbling cochineal creepy crawlies in a sodium carbonate or smelling salts arrangement.

It's utilized to make plastic blossoms, inks, colors, paints and beauty care products. In sustenances and drinks it's utilized to shading dessert, confection, yogurt and certain organic product juices. It's been appeared to cause anaphylactic stun and serious hypersensitive responses in a few people.

Different colors utilized rather than normal #4 are manufactured choices, for example, red #40 and red #2. These are gotten from oil creation. My recommendation, keep this trash far from your body as much as you can.

We appear to ask why that despite the fact that we are more innovatively progressed than some other time ever, people are likewise more debilitated and ailing than some other time ever.

To me it's as plain as day. It is things that I've specified and the a great many other nourishment added substances, flavors, hues and additives that our pioneers enable makers to add to the sustenances individuals eat that is causing sickness around the world.

So it truly is dependent upon you. As Hippocrates said a great many years prior:

"Give sustenance a chance to be thy drug and medication be thy nourishment"

So be savvy and pick your sustenance shrewdly.

To extraordinary wellbeing,

Paul Scicluna

To find all the more intriguing and authentic sustenance information, and how to get your wellbeing on track, visit... http://globalhealthrenegade.com/

On the off chance that you are aware of any other individual who needs assistance with enhancing their wellbeing and health, please share this article with them.

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