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hollandbaby · 5 years ago

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roommates - t.h smut

a/n: um so i haven’t written in a long time pls be kind. this is just a 4.9k one shot based on how i’m feeling, sexually frustrated, but unfortunately I’m not in lockdown with tom so cannot have sex with him. also I’m tipsy. AND feedback is much appreciated

warnings; smut, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, choking, biting, scratching, super long intro

You had lived with your lifetime best friend, Tom, for just over a year now, alongside his best friends Harrison and Tuwaine and his younger brother Harry. There was never a dull moment in the house, even when Tom’s away filming the other boys provide just as much entertainment. You’re used to spending lots of time with the boys, but when it’s announced lockdown was in place, it took a toll on everyone. Tom is unable to work which is a benefit considering he’s allowed to actually rest finally, plus he’s around a lot more which is nice. Harrison is always practicing his juggling which is entertaining until he breaks your favourite lamp. Tuwaine and Harry tends to keep to themselves, mostly playing video games or working from home. But boy was the house becoming messy.

“Alright, who’s underwear are these and why are they on the living room floor!?” You shout to the house, picking up the pants by the broom you had in your hand.

“Whadda they look like?” Shouts Harry, most likely on his laptop editing something.

“Grey Calvin’s but I know all of you own at least one pair so it’s not very helpful!”

You move to put them in the laundry basket by the washing machine, carrying on with your cleaning by sweeping the kitchen floor. Tom emerges from the bathroom, in just a pair of grey sweats and a towel wrapped around his neck, you try not to let yourself get distracted but it’s hard when you can see a single drop of water make its way down his toned, bronzed torso.

“Sorry, love, I think they may be mine,” he chuckles as he goes to fill the kettle for a cup of tea. He leans against the kitchen island, drying off his hair with his towel.

“What the fuck are they doing in the communal living room?” You ask, laughing as well. Living with boys may be hard sometimes due to the mess and the fact they’re all super dumb, but it’s so endearing and you have good times.

“I dunno, I probably threw them at one of the boys as a joke.” Tom giggles to himself but you roll your eyes.

“Well next time you throw your dirty laundry at someone pick it up after, doofus.” You chuckle, walking past Tom to head to your room for your wash bag before going for a shower. You turn the shower on and start to undress. You found yourself thinking about Tom, and the way he looked after his shower earlier, his wet curly hair all floppy and cute, water droplets falling onto his broad chest and toned abs. You’d never really thought about him sexually before, obviously he’s an attractive man and you’ve been close friends with him since you were kids, he knows you better than anyone, but you’d never realised just how hot he is. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had sex in over a month due to lockdown or maybe it’s because you’ve been able to spend more time with Tom recently, but there’s a familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach that stretches all the way down to your core. You bite your lip, stepping under the hot water, steam filling the bathroom as you try to wash away your sins.

You’re cooking dinner for everyone, Harrison, Harry and Tuwaine playing some game in the living room and Tom is just watching, laughing along with them. Tom looks over the sofa to you, watching your movements for a second before getting up off the sofa and walking to the kitchen.

“Need any help, darlin’?” He asks, as you chop up some vegetables.

“You can chop up some onions with me?” You smile at him, and he gets a feeling in the pit of his stomach. You both continue chopping and cooking the meal, Tom drinking beer and you wine as you both dance around the kitchen and giggle and sing with each other. You call the boys into the dining area, serving up dinner and grabbing drinks for all the boys. As you turn from the fridge to place the beers on the counter, Tom is already stood behind you, making you jump. He grabs your waist to steady you, and you’re grateful you didn’t drop any of the bottles.

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles as your face heats up, a mixture of the fact Tom’s warm hands are still on your waist and you just had a close call to a very messy and classy clean up.

“S’okay, I’m just glad I didn’t drop any of these! The boys would kill me,” you pop open all the bottles, attempting to grab them along with your bottle of wine AND glass.

“Woah there, darling, I’ll grab those for you,” Tom takes three of the bottles from you, letting out a breathy laugh at your disgruntled facial expression, your bottom lip slightly jutted out and hair falling in your face.

“Thank you,” you smile and pick up your wine and glass, following Tom’s lead back to the table.

The boys are all chatting away, dishing up their dinners as you and Tom place their beers down in front of them.

“Thank you so much for cooking, Y/N, we’ll wash up.” Harrison says, smiling at you.

“Will we?” Tuwaine chimes in, looking confused.

“Bro shut up.” Harry says, you roll your eyes but you’re laughing alongside them.

“Well maybe after dinner, and after Haz, Harry and Tuwaine wash up, we can do something together?” You suggest, sipping your wine before munching some more.

“Sounds good. What did you have in mind?” Asks Tom, eager to spend some time with you.

“Well we could all play some card games or a board game?”

And that’s how you end up drunkenly giggling at 1AM over monopoly.

“How the fuck did I get go to jail again?!”

“Unlucky Baz man, looks like you’re in jail again,” you giggle, moving his figurine to the jail space.

“How are you doing so well at this game Y/N? It’s like you’re the monopoly mastermind,” Harrison asks, slurring the M’s slightly.

“I dunno man I used to play a lot with my family, plus it’s a game of chance.”

“Well it’s a fucking stupid game of chance,” Harry chimes in, pouting at the fact he has to miss a go.

“Shut up, dickhead, you love this game,” Tom grabs Harry by his shoulders and puts him in a headlock, ruffling his hair.

“Tom!” Harry exclaims, thrashing around. He kicks the board, knocking all the houses and hotels and cards everywhere.

“Harry!” shouts Harrison, clearly angry at the fact he’s lost his place and cannot for the life of him remember where it was.

“Oh my god you’re all idiots,” you laugh, Tuwaine exclaiming a “hey don’t put me in that category with them!”

You finish the last gulp of your wine before attempting to stand up to grab another bottle. You steady yourself on Tom’s shoulder before heading over to the fridge. You can feel his eyes on you as you pour yourself some more wine, but he quickly looks away when you turn back around. The lads are all laughing together on the floor, sipping beers and being stupid.

“What’re you all laughing at?” You ask, smiling, as you go to join them on the floor, Tom’s hand gently grabbing yours to help you sit.

“Harry’s suggesting we play never have I ever,” Tuwaine laughs.

“It wasn’t just me! Harrison suggested it I just said sure why not!”

“God you’re all a bunch of kids. Alright, are we playing or not?” You ask, getting confident from the booze.

“I know I suggested it but the room is spinning so much right now I think I’m gonna throw up,” Harrison states, hiccuping.

“Wow, good one genius. Alright, let’s get you to bed. Night all,” Tuwaine gets up, picking Haz up in the process and wrapping his arm around his waist, guiding Harrison to his room before making his way to his own.

“Aaaand I’d rather go to bed than stay up for whatever weird shit is gonna happen between you two,” Harry says standing up and chugging the rest of his beer, “peace out.”

“And then there were two,” Tom chuckles, starting to pack away the long forgotten monopoly board. You help him, placing pieces in their respective compartments and giggling with each other.

“So how about that game of never have I ever?” You ask biting your lip. You look at Tom to find he’s already looking at you, cheeks flushed and a curl falling into his face.

“Sure,” he chuckles breathily, “I’ll just grab another beer.” You smile to yourself as you watch Tom walk to the kitchen, biting your lower lip as you realise you shouldn’t be staring at his ass as he walks away. Tom returns to the living room, you’ve moved onto the sofa now, put some music on and your feet up on the coffee table in front of you. He plops down on the sofa next to you and smiles, taking a swig of his beer.

“Alright. Never have I ever pissed my pants from laughing,” Tom chuckles to himself as you slap his chest.

“That was ONE time and it was a TINY amount!” You huff, taking a swig of your drink. You smirk as you pull your legs up onto the sofa, turning to face Tom. “Never have I ever tried to impress a girl by doing a backflip but it ending up awfully badly and I broke my wrist.”

“For fucks sake,” Tom throws his head back and groans, taking a swig of his drink. “She still went on a date with me though, I assume out of pity. Okay, ummm, never have I ever had sex in a park.” He’s smirking this time, knowing full well you definitely had.

“I was 16 and fucking stupid. Guy was a douche anyway. Okay never have I ever, been walked in on.” You laugh at this one. Harrison loved telling the story of the time he walked in on Tom and some girl he’d brought home from a bar.

“For fucks sake, I wish everyone would stop bringing that one up.” He drinks, keeping eye contact with you. “Never have I ever had sex with a roommate,” he licks his lips, watching as you take another sip of your wine. “How’s that even happen?”

“You know the story, Tom, I had to move out because of how awkward it got.” You frown at him, these never have i evers we’re getting too real. “Okay, never have I ever had phone sex.” You watch Tom roll his eyes and take a swig of his beer.

“You mean to tell me you’ve never had phone sex?”

“No, what’s the point when I could just have sex with someone?”

“What if you’re far away from someone you’re dating and can’t go see them? I was working on set you know.”

“I know that! These are to try and get you drunk Mr Holland that’s the aim of the game,” you smile at him, “your turn.”

“Never have I ever,” he trails off, lips pursing as he thinks of one to say, “never have I ever had a threesome.”

You pause for a second, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinting wondering if he knew you’d had a threesome before or if he was just curious. Either way, you take a sip of your drink.

“Now, this I’ve got to hear,” Tom’s smirking, an eyebrow raised as he waits for the story.

“I thought you knew! Oh, god. So it was my first year of uni, I was fresh out of a bad relationship, exploring my options etc you know. I start having sex with this guy regularly, just causal stuff no feelings involved. One day he comes round, then this girl calls him and he asks if she can come for drinks too. Obviously I say yes because I’m already tipsy and open to anything. She comes round, we end up drinking 3 bottles of wine each and it just, happened.” You look to Tom, after taking a sip of your wine, your cheeks flushed but it’s nothing compared to the look of shock on Tom’s face. He’s aroused at the idea but he won’t let you know that. His mouth is agape, then he licks his lips and smirks.

“Wow who knew you were crazy like that?”

You slap his chest, “shut up! I bet you’ve been up to some crazy stuff. I’m surprised you’ve not had a threesome yet.”

“I’m not the type of man to share, darling.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Besides, it was a foursome.”

“Ahhh and there it is.” You roll your eyes and smile, finishing off your drink. “Be a darling and grab my bottle from the fridge please, Tommy?” He tuts at your demand, nevertheless standing and going to grab your bottle. He grabs himself another beer too. You smile and thank him as he fills your glass, putting the bottle on the floor in case you need a refill. “I miss sex. That’s the worst part about all this shit.”

“Oh, totally agree. Stupid lockdown.” Tom sighs, sitting back down on the sofa next to you. You place your glass on the coffee table, turning to face Tom fully, resting your arm on the back of the sofa.

“What if we had sex?”

Tom spits his drink out, coughing and spluttering, getting his spat beer all over his white t shirt. “Shit. Um, what?”

“C’mon, we’re both adults with needs, it doesn’t have to be a big deal. Just a one time thing, a favour, to release all the sexual frustrations we’re both clearly experiencing since we don’t have dick or pussy on tap at the moment.” You pick your wine back up, taking a long swig before continuing. “I could just give you a blowie and we can go our separate ways.”

“Y/N, we live together. You said last time you did something like this it didn’t end well.”

“That was only a bad idea with my past roommate because he became obsessed with me after. Tom, we don’t have to do it it was just a suggestion.” You don’t know if it’s because the alcohol has given you a load of confidence or if it’s because you’ve not had sex in a long time but what you do know is that Tom is very attractive, especially when he runs his hand through his floppy curls, his white shirt tightening around his bicep. You lick your lips as your eyes rake up and down his body. You meet his brown eyes, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.

“Conditions?”

“We can do whatever you want. My only condition is, we need a safe word. Actually, that and we probably shouldn’t tell the others what happened.”

“Agreed. Safe word can be pineapple.”

“Pineapple?” You laugh, leaning closer to Tom. You can smell his cologne, and it’s absolutely divine.

“I dunno. It was the first thing that came to mind.” He leans closer into you as well. “What’re you into?” His eyes flick to your lips and back up to your eyes.

“Hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, spanking, call me babygirl or a good girl and I’m a goner. You?”

“Same, but call me Tommy or baby. Maybe daddy as well, depends how rough we’re going I guess.”

You put your glass back on the coffee table after finishing your wine, moving to straddle Tom’s lap. “Okay, Tommy, looks like we’re doing this.” You move in, testing the waters, eyes flickering between Tom’s and his lips. You can already feel the heat in your core and the wetness in your panties, your thin shorts barely protecting you from the feeling of Tom’s arousal in his grey sweats. He caves first, crashing his lips against yours and moving them oh so deliciously against your own. Your eyes instantly shut, your hands combing through his hair before gripping onto his brunette curls. Tom lets his empty bottle drop onto the sofa, long forgotten as his own hands move to your hips. His tongue experiments by licking your top lip, asking for entrance which you more than gladly grant him. Your tongue dances against his, your hips subconsciously grinding against his already hard cock. You let out a rough, breathy moan into his mouth, Tom’s hands moving to your ass, feeling the skin that your shorts don’t cover. He pulls back, panting and lips glossy and red.

“Your room or mine?”

“Whichever’s closest.” You kiss him again, letting out a slightly startled noise as he stands, picking you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, hands gripping onto his shoulders whilst his are gripping your ass. You peck his lips, kissing down his neck as he walks you to his room. It’s closest to the living room and nearest to the bathroom so it’s a win win for you. You open Tom’s door for him, he almost drops you when you do but luckily you grip back onto him, accidentally scratching his back. Tom lets out a hiss, but it’s not with pain, more so pleasure at the feeling of your nails digging into him. It makes him wonder how amazing your nails will feel scratching down his back while he’s fucking into you. He throws you on his bed, and you briefly note how clean and tidy his room is considering he’s so chaotic. Tom removes his (slightly damp with beer) shirt and is on top of you in an instant, his lips meeting yours again in a messy kiss, teeth and tongue in the mix. You wrap your legs around his waist, his hips grinding down into your own as your hands rake through his hair, tugging on tufts as you sloppily kiss. He pulls away, his lips moving down to your neck and nipping and sucking there. You let out a moan, your eyes rolling back as Tom’s mouth works wonders on you. Your hips buck up into his and his hand moves from the bed to your body, trailing down your neck and chest to the hem of your vest top, tugging on it as a signal for you to take it off. You listen, moving your arms down to the hem to rip your top off, Tom instantly moving down your body, his lips kissing your chest before his hand moves round to your back and unclasps your bra. He pulls it off you, his mouth making its way to your nipple as his eyes look up into yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in pleasure, biting your bottom lip as you moan lowly. You don’t even notice Tom’s hand trailing down your body until it reaches your clothed pussy, your hips instantly jerking up to meet his hand. A mixture of Tom’s tongue on your nipple and his fingers rubbing your clit through your shorts is giving you a feeling you’ve not felt in a while. Yes you’ve been getting yourself off but there’s something so different about someone else’s touch that feels so fucking amazing.

“Do you know how fucking hot you look in these shorts, baby? I’ve wanted to rip them off you all evening.” Tom moans out, he can feel your wetness through the material.

“Do it, then.” You smirk, but your breath is hoarse and raspy. You let out a gasp as Tom practically rips your shorts from your body, along with your underwear. He wastes no time moving down your body, lips leaving a wet trail of kisses on your scorching skin. Hiking your legs up so your feet are flat on the bed, he kisses your hips, then down your left thigh, as your hands make their way to his hair. Tom looks up into your eyes as he licks closer and closer to your wet pussy, his mouth hovering over you, causing you to grind your hips up in an attempt to meet his tongue. He finally ends the torturous teasing, gently licking his tongue through your folds and to your clit, you throw your head back and let out a soft ‘oh, fuck’. Tom’s fingers make their way up your body, gently teasing your nipple as his tongue massages your clit, your hips meeting his movements as you let out small, breathy moans.

“Fuck, Tom, fingers please,” your voice is broken and still raspy, but Tom makes eye contact with you again and the moan you let out is much louder than before. You throw your head back again, writhing against him.

“What do want, baby girl? Hm? Want my fingers inside you?” His breath is cool against your warm skin, his eyes searching for yours.

“Yes!” You attempt to buck your hips up again but Tom’s hands hold them in place.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please, daddy!” Your voice is broken and your attempt to keep quiet is ineffective. Tom moves his right hand from your hip, his tongue returning back to your clit as he slowly pumps a finger into you, curling it up to reach your g spot. He has you writhing beneath him, adding another fingers stretching you out as his tongue laps at your clit, your hands grip his hair as you grind against his mouth, breathy moans escaping your lips. You bite your lip as your eyes roll to the back of your head, you figured Tom would be good in bed but, god, he was so much better than you expected.

“I’m close, Tommy,” he all but growls into your pussy at the nickname, fingers picking up speed as he sucks on your clit gently. One of your hands flies up to your face, biting down on your arm to stop yourself from letting out an extremely loud moan as you cum. Tom slows his movements, helping you ride out your high. He removes his fingers from you, looking into your eyes as he licks them clean. You bite your lip and let out a soft groan at the sight of him, pulling him up to you so you can kiss his lips, allowing your tongue to massage his. You can taste yourself on him, only making you moan into his mouth as you kiss. You pull on his sweats, pushing them down his thighs along w his boxers. Tom pulls them the rest of the way off and you roll onto him, pinning him to the bed with your thighs. Your lips never leaving his in a sloppy, wet, tipsy kiss. You’re overwhelmed by his senses, his hot skin, his sexy scent, his soft curls and the way his teeth occasionally nibble on your bottom lip. You start grinding your hips against Tom’s hard cock, his hands flying to your hips as you do so.

“You’re so fucking wet for me aren’t you, baby girl?” Tom growls against your lips, feeling your wetness on his skin.

You moan against his lips, nodding your head, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah, bedside table, 2nd drawer down.” You reach over him to the nightstand, retrieving a condom, opening it with your teeth before rolling it onto Tom’s cock. Tom lets out a hiss at the contact, throwing his head back and panting as your hand moves up and down him, before you lift up and slide down onto his cock. His hands instantly grab onto your ass, nails digging into the skin as you find a pace, adjusting to his size. He was bigger than you were expecting but, fuck, did it feel good. You pick up the pace, hips moving up and down as Tom’s hand moves from your ass cheek to your clit, using his middle finger to circle the bundle of nerves. He’s grunting with each move you make, and your head falls back as you continue riding him. He moves his other hand off your ass and brings it back down in a harsh slap, your skin jiggling and a sharp moan escaping your lips. He smirks up at you, your body dropping forward, hands moving to rest by his head as you keep the movements of your hips. He slaps your ass again, massaging the red skin there as you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You reach your right hand to around his throat, gently squeezing. Something snaps in Tom at that, planting his feet on the bed to get leverage to thrust up into you, fucking you from underneath, he grabs a handful of your hair and fastens the pace of his fingers on your clit.

“Fuck, Tommy!” You moan, trying to keep quiet but it’s hard when he’s fucking you so good, the arch in your back allowing him to go deeper, creating a delicious feeling. “I want you to fuck me from behind.” You’re panting and your voice is quiet but Tom hears you loud and clear.

“Fuck, love, you’re so hot,” he pulls out, rolling you over onto your front, your arms reaching in front of you, chest on the bed as your knees widen and your ass is in the air, Tom slaps your ass as he moves behind you, sliding his hard cock between your fold and collecting your wetness before he thrusts back into you.

“Shit, you’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” Another slap on your ass as he fucks into you, hands grabbing your hips for leverage.

“Yes, baby, keep fucking me like that!” You moan into the sheets. Tom reaches forward and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your back up against his torso, fucking up into you. His hand slides around to grip your throat as he continues fucking you, his lips leaving sloppy kisses on your neck and cheek. He nibbles on your ear lightly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure. Tom’s other hand snakes it’s way around your waist down your body, his middle fingers circling your clit. Your head is resting on his shoulder, your hand coming round to pull on his hair as he continues fucking you, Tom’s grunts and groans right in your ear as his lips caress the skin there.

“So fuckin tight, baby, jesus,” Tom’s breath is hot on your neck leaving goosebumps all over your body as you moan at his words. “I want you to cum for me baby, can you do that?”

“Yes, Tommy, I’m so close,” you groan, but Tom pulls away completely. You’re shocked and disgruntled before you realise he’s throwing you on your back, spreading your thighs and thrusting back into you. You grab his shoulders, nails digging in as Tom fucks you, harder than before. Your moans are muffled by the skin of his shoulder, you bite down on his skin, sucking, most likely leaving a mark but you don’t care, too consumed with the fire in your stomach as your orgasm approaches.

“Rub my clit, please,” you breathe out, one of Tom’s hands moving from your thigh to between your legs, resuming his movements on your clit from before. He fucks you in a rhythm, your nails scratching down his back as he does so, Tom’s hair is falling in his face and tickling yours but you don’t care, he looks so hot like this, sweaty and panting above you. Your toes curl and your pussy clenches around him, his cock pounding into you, and it’s like nothing you’ve felt before.

“I’m gonna cum, Tommy!” You throw your head back, letting out a moan as Tom’s fingers rub your clit faster and he fucks you harder, his lips crashing against yours as you reach your high. Tom follows shortly after, sloppily thrusting into you as he cums in the condom. Tom collapses on top of you, your breathing steadying as you play with his hair. After a minute, he pulls out and discards of the condom, flopping onto the bed beside you, opening his arm to you so you can roll into his side.

“Well, that was ... wow,” you sigh contentedly. Your breathing is starting to slow down and a wave of exhaustion hits you. You rest your head on Tom’s bare chest, one of his fingers curling a piece of your hair around it.

“Oh, god yeah it was, something else.” He chuckles, pressing a light peck to your forehead.

“I should probably go to the bathroom then back to my room.” You sigh, you don’t want to move though. You’re absorbing Tom’s warmth and it feels so good. You roll off of his chest, pulling his t shirt from off the floor and sliding it on. Tom sits up as you go to collect your things, “you could stay in here tonight? I mean, sex isn’t the only thing I miss.” His face is flush and he smiles sheepishly at you. You smile back and bite your lip, leaning back onto the bed to peck his nose before heading off to the bathroom. Tom thinks you’ve gone to bed, sighing in defeat and flopping back against his sheets. You go to clean up, making your way back to Tom’s room but not before grabbing another 2 bottles of beer first. You return to his room, smiling as you hand him a bottle. He laughs at you as he opens his beer, taking a sip before opening his arms to you, inviting you to sit with him on his bed. He’s got his boxers back on, duvet loosely wrapped around his hips, shifting while he moves. You sit back on the bed with him, taking a sip of your own beer. You both laugh and chat until you finish your drinks, lying down again and falling sleep curled up in Tom’s arms, his hand gently massaging your scalp as he places occasional pecks on your forehead. You realise that maybe this won’t be the last time as you drift off into a peaceful sleep.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #also this isnt proofread lol #daddy!tom is a ducking loos tho

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cerastes · 4 years ago

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It just gives me life thinking about Lappland as this complete garbage demon of a coworker. She wasn’t just hated, she earned that hatred.

Conversely, I can imagine her having a group in Rhodes Island with which she meshes on at least a very superficial level.

Like, on the third day of having her on board, Doctor probably said to her “hey, I think I know a group of people you’ll like”, and pointed Lappy to the gym.

She swung the door open and inside she found Specter spotting Indra on her bench pressing, Flamebringer doing cardio, Skadi juggling semi-trucks, and Shaw stretching.

“WHO HERE LIKES TO FUCK SHIT UP”, yelled a semi-monotone yet very loud and intrigues Lappland. Everyone in the room raised their hands.

“Well, I turn my brain off and then, when I wake up, I get to watch video footage of me ripping people in half,” said Specter.

“I punch people until they don’t wanna get punched anymore and then I punch them more,” explained Indra.

“I just wanna fight the biggest, toughest, strongest warriors,” Flamebringer states.

“I do what I must, and usually, I must break every single bone in people’s bodies until they comply with my wishes,” elaborated Skadi.

And at this point, you know Lappland is losing her mind because she just walked less into a gym and more into The Genocide Machine Factory, all loonies and freaks in one way or another, just like her!

“AND WHAT DO YOU DO, SHORTSTUFF” Lappland yells at Shaw.

Shaw responds by blasting her with her hose and sending Lappland through 3 walls as if she was just struck by a Dragon Ball punch.

“SWEET. I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU FREAKS.”

And that’s when Lappland knew she found home.

#arknights

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years ago

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Modern AU - Get the Mayor a Damn Dog

What started as me trying to explain to some friends why I’m giving Mayor Damien in a Modern AU a dog ran off and had a life of its own.

For context, Modern Damien (as I write it) is part of a failed ‘second cycle’ of the WKM events. When the barrier broke after the ‘Damien’ short, pieces of the characters trapped within were sent out to be ‘reborn’ in a modern world. This means that while Damien exists because Dark is made from pieces of the twins, William doesn’t since Wilford is him. But since there were enough differences, Damien (and Celine, don’t worry!) gets the peaceful life he deserved all along.

This, coincidently, is the first time Wilford has met Damien (in some time, he thinks). What better way to do so than by deciding Damien should get a dog?

Word Count: 2,259 (hence the read-more)

If there was one thing to know about the city’s mayor, it was that he wanted a dog.

(And a family, but one thing at a time.)

It came up in several interviews, and various photoshoots included him posing with dogs. Some well-meaning patrons tried to gift him a dog - in other words, drop a dog at his door without any warning - but Damien was fortunate enough to have interceded before anything actually happened. For Damien, this would be a massive decision, and he wanted the choice in when and how it happened. In fact, it was why he didn’t have a dog to this point. With how busy the City Hall was, he couldn’t justify having a dog cooped up in an apartment all day. It might be spacious, it’d be heartless, and why have a dog for the bragging rights? What about the pet’s own life?

It made the days lonely and quiet sometimes, but Damien knew it was for the best. At least it started a running gag of friends giving him dog themed items for birthdays and other occasions that were dotted around his home. One such afternoon had him dusting some items, only for a porcelain dog figure to be dislodged and fall to the ground.

“Whoa there! Don’t wanna lose this pretty thin’, eh?” Damien could only watch with a bewildered expression as a man with a pink moustache who wasn’t there before caught the figurine and neatly returned it to its place. “Looks as expensive as everythin’ else here. Musta cost a pretty penny!”

“Uh, I - hold on a moment. Where did you even come from?” Damien knew the front door was locked. The balcony would be an option for only the fool who would want to climb seven stories. The intruder mimicked Damien’s action of blankly looking around like he was also looking for an answer.

“Yer totally Mark’s friend, right?”

“Answer my question. How did you get in here?” Damien put the duster down, glaring at the stranger. When nothing happened, he gave a slow sigh. “I don’t know. ‘Mark’ is a common name. I know a few people with that name. Can you give better clarification?”

“Good answer! He’s a little shorter than you?” No reaction. The stranger pursed his lips, making his moustache wiggle in thought. “He makes videos fer th’ internet?” That, luckily, helped Damien put the pieces together.

“I’ve been friends with him for years, nearly since we were kids. So now can you please tell me who you are, how you got in here, and what any of this has to do with Mark?”

“Wilford Warfstache, reporter extraordinaire at yer service!” Wilford gave a dramatic, swooping bow. “I actually went ta yer office, but ya weren’t there. Th’ security fella that found me informed that it’s actually Sunday an’ no one works in th’ buildin’ that day. So then I came here, an’ here ya are! Well done fer not working!” He finished with a dramatic ‘ta-dah’ pose, complete with jazz hands. But when Damien didn’t clap, Wilford’s pose deflated (complete with sound effects that came out of nowhere). “C’mon, Dames, I didn’t even get lost. That’s a good thing fer me.” Damien pressed two fingers against his temple as he tried to follow what was going on.

“I’m going to let most of that slide, but why did you call me ‘Dames’?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“For one, it’s a nickname that only my oldest friends use.”

“Aren’t we?” Damien opened his mouth to refute the bizarre question, only to notice the genuine confusion on the other’s face. One moment, Wilford acted like they were strangers, and the next gathered they were old friends in his mind? It was a rather worrying state of affairs, but it was better to not correct him just yet.

“So, Mr Warfstache, what brings you here?” Damien clasped his hands behind his back, steeling himself for some terrible news. He had heard rumours of Mark being linked with some malicious, shadowy entity. Was this related to that? What rabbit-hole had he been pulled into? Wilford appeared lost at the question, looking around until -

“Oh yeah! It’s ‘cause yer cooped up in here all th’ time. Ya need ta get out more, talk ta people, see more things! But most of all, ya need some sorta company, an’ - wait!” Damien had turned and stormed off to find his phone. “C’mon, Dames, y’ve been like this fer years! It’s not gonna kill ya ta live a little fer once.”

“And what do you know about that? You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” Damien held the phone up as a warning. “I will call the police if you keep this up.”

“Poppycock. I’m tryin’ ta help. What part of that aren’t ya seein’? Yer a man who’s obsessed with puttin’ himself last. Anythin’ that can pull yer attention from work for a split second is somethin’ ya don’t get involved with! How long are ya gonna keep not livin’ fer?”

“What I do is none of your damn business! I know the importance of my work!”

“An’ what other man in yer position would throw his life away? Any other Mayor would have a romantic partner or family who’d be there no matter what. They’d juggle everythin’ because that’s what people do! Yer not ‘sposed to be some machine who works an’ does nothin’ else!”

“But that is what I want to do! I promised to give this city my all. I’m not backing down on this.” Wilford’s hand twitched, like he was about to grab something, but he forced himself to stop. Instead, he took a heavy, slow breath. The moustache was peppered with short, black strands of hair.

“An’ neither am I. I’m not lettin’ ya throw yer life away again because yer a fuckin’ moron. No. We’re goin’. Now. Get yer fuckin’ coat.”

“Are you listening to yourself right now? You break into my home through whatever illogical technique, complain about how I choose to live my life, and now you’re trying to bring me somewhere? You’d be mad to think I’d go anywhere with you!” Damien took a nervous step back as Wilford gave a resigned laugh.

“Mad, ya say? Wouldn’t be th’ first ta say that, an’ ya won’t be th’ last.” His head lowered at the confession. A few seconds passed before he returned his gaze to Damien with a sigh. Unlike before, it was a more sober look. “I’m not seein’ ya waste away ta be nothin’ again. All I ask is that ya come with me ta look at dogs. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all. Ya always said ya wanted one an’ never got one ‘cause of work. But folks love dogs! Bet we could find a little one that’ll be great in an office an’ a small apartment. Like… Like one of these!” Wilford hurried to the couch to snatch up a cushion and excitedly point to one of the printed dogs. Whatever black was in the moustache had disappeared when he turned to Damien.

“You… Do realise that’s a Great Dane, yes? The complete opposite of what you just said.”

“An’ that’s why I didn’t pick a dog! Yer th’ expert outta th’ two of us! C’mon!”

Despite the tense first meeting, Damien found Wilford to be a surprisingly pleasant companion. Eccentric, yet bubbly. He had a colourful view on the world, and it wasn’t long before Damien could see why Wilford was confused on knowing Damien. They got along like a house on fire, or like friends who were simply catching up after years apart. Wilford told him about his reporting job in a TV studio, various other quirky friends he had (though photographs were needed to remind Wilford of names), and the connection between himself and Mark.

Time seemed to pass both too quickly and slowly by the time the pair arrived at the local pound. Damien had tried to talk Wilford out of this idea, but the other was indeed too stubborn to change his mind. The staff welcomed the pair in and allowed them to see the dogs that were looking for forever homes. Damien had to remind Wilford twice that a small dog was what he wanted.

(“But Dames! Look at her pudgy face!”

“Wilford, she’d need a garden as big as my entire apartment to run around in.”)

They eventually split up so Damien could walk around and see if there were any suitable candidates to bring home without running commentary from Wilford. So many dogs were lively and friendly, but far too energetic for an apartment life or would be better suited to homes with children. Despite coming to the realisation that this was the wasted trip he knew it would be, he let himself have the chance to enjoy meeting some dogs. He was reading the information on some spaniel puppies when he felt eyes on him. Damien lifted his gaze to the corridor to find he was alone. As he turned to determine where the feeling of being watched came from, he found a dog in the den directly behind him staring attentively in his direction like it was on guard. It was a corgi, and Damien guessed it was a tricolour: predominantly black with sharply defined tan markings around his shoulders, eyes and muzzle. Unlike most corgis Damien saw on Crufts, the fur was longer and fluffier.

“What’s got you on high alert, buddy?” Damien lifted the information clipboard to skim for a warning on a vicious temperament. To his relief, it was the opposite. The corgi was approximately two years old, had high stamina but was mainly calm and observant. True to the notes, the dog approached the perspex door, sitting in front of it as he watched Damien. “Or are you making sure I don’t cause trouble… Soldier? An unusual name.”

“He’s a stray,” one of the volunteers explained as they closed the storage door with the back of their foot, arms laden with a large sack of dog food. “He was found at the local army base after trying to herd some of the soldiers that were training, which is where we got the name from. It’s strange… He’s a purebred, yet there’s no chip, no alert of a missing dog anywhere in the state or in neighbouring states… Nothing. Anyone that wanted to adopt him couldn’t get him to come anywhere near them. Aside from any of us who bring him food, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Soldier get this close to anyone.”

“That is… Rather unusual for such a social breed,” Damien hummed in agreement. “I read up on them before when first checking what breeds might suit an apartment life, yet... I wouldn’t have expected to find one here.”

“It might be fate, Mister Mayor. It’s happened a few times here before. Why don’t you say hello?” Without waiting for an answer, the volunteer skirted around Damien. There was a little struggle with the weight of the sack, but they successfully opened the upper half of the door. For a moment, he considered refusing the offer, but decided otherwise. A hand was cautiously lowered to pet the dog on the top of the head. Instead, Soldier pulled back so he could sniff the hand like he had the final say in whether the interaction was allowed. Once satisfied, he bumped the top of his head against Damien’s hand.

“Oh my God. That’s the first time he’s let anyone pet him without a bribe of food,” whispered the intern. “This is like a Disney movie. You need to take him home with you. I don’t think you’re gonna find a better suited dog. Soldier is always watching and paying attention to what goes on. We have a kit that’d help you care for him, if that’s a worry. But you spend time with him and make the choice for yourself. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” The volunteer hurried off with the sack in their arms, leaving Damien alone. Once the coast was clear, Damien sighed and knelt down.

“This is all quite a rush, isn’t it? We’ve barely met and now I’m being told to bring you home. I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with a boring man like me. I work in one room nearly all day, and I don’t have a garden. I’m sure you understand that I’m not the home you deserve.” Soldier cocked his head to the left as Damien spoke, responding with a low bark. “I’m not entirely sure whether that’s in agreement or disagreement, I’m afraid. I don’t speak dog. And I doubt you can speak human either.” To Damien’s surprise, Soldier gave another bark, before rising up and crossing his space to pick up a chewed-up teddy bear. Upon his return, he placed his front paws on the perspex to offer the bear to Damien.

“Is this for me? She’s a pretty little lady, isn’t she? Even if her dress is a little tattered.” Taking the toy, Damien once again attempted to pat Soldier’s head with the other hand. This time, Soldier accepted, allowing Damien to properly pet him.

This was how Wilford and the shelter volunteer found them several minutes. The volunteer was mid-brag about how they knew it was a match made in heaven, and Wilford was quick to agree.

“He’s a handsome little fella, huh? Ya look fairly smitten, Dames.” Wilford slapped Damien’s shoulder with a grin.

“I think I might look into the adoption process… But if I do, I’m changing his name. ‘Soldier’ doesn’t suit him. He deserves a name that’s more intelligent. I’m thinking… Barnum. It rather suits such a bright-eyed fellow, don’t you think?”

#writersofmark #mayor damien #Wilford Warfstache #(I mean I'm not expecting anyone to actually read this)#(it's a long-winded headcanon story but I'm sure someone will enjoy my attempt to write a dog xD)#Blue Soul (Damien)#Rose Petals (Wilford)#(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

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dreaming-gamer · 4 years ago

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Eyy! Now, I have a proper V HC request, hihi!😍😍😍❤❤❤🙈🙈🙈 The gang ( include anyone you want ) introducing V to his very first cosplay convention!😍😍😍❤❤❤ I'll patiently wait, my dear. I love your V HCs so much😍😍😍❤❤❤

Hello dear! <3<3<3 Thank you so much for liking my headcanons and the request! :D :D :D I’m sorry this one took so long, I should have posted this one much earlier but better late than never? *sweats*

In any case, here we go! <3<3<3

Random headcanon: Cosplay convention

Nico:

Nico is the first one to jump at the idea when she finds out V has never been to a cosplay convention. She loves those because people just let their creativity flow and she is among them. Creating an impressive cosplay that lets her display her genius, oh that’s right up her alley.

Of course the work on the van and Nero’s Devil Breakers go first, but the Queen of Machines can juggle that and more if needs be. If she’s going to a convention, you can bet she’s going to show off something that’s flashy and functional.

She’s all for helping the others find something they want to dress up in as well, they don’t even have to take something as spectacular as she does, if they don’t want to. If they do, she’s all for helping them with something on the more mechanical style as sewing and fabrics aren’t her thing.

Honestly, she just wants her friends to come along, try the event out. If someone really doesn’t want to dress up, she won’t push the suggestion too much but if she can work on them for a bit, they might open up to it. She’s the one to convince V to come along, claiming she can find just the right character for him.

Though Nico is able and considered fixing a workable Gundam costume (complete with rockets and guns, could it get better?!), she ultimately chose Mei Hatsume from My Hero Academia as her own cosplay character because let’s face it, it would let her show off more of her creations.

The costume itself she found online, cheap and the inventions are the important part, so that’s all good for her. A prototype is customized to function as a flying skateboard for anyone who wants to try, an Overture is remodeled to set off (harmless) fireworks rather than demon-killing sparks, a Dr Faust replica with built-in video and audio to teach you Michael Jackson moves on the go, she brings an array of different inventions and many are a success with younger audiences.

Nero (& Kyrie):

Nero’s never been to a cosplay convention, he’s just as new to them as V is. As a kid, he wanted to dress up and go to gatherings like that because it looked fun and hopefully no one would look at him funny, as they did in the Order.

Now that he feels more secure in his own skin, having come to terms with his heritage and how he can use it to protect his family, Nero doesn’t feel the immediate need to dress up for the convention but when Kyrie mentions it might be fun, he falls for the suggestion.

Whenever the orphans’ clothes get holes, Kyrie fixes them with her sewing but she is uncertain she has the skills and the time to fix herself and Nero matching outfits in time for the convention, when they have both decided they’ll go. And Nico has convinced them that they’ll have the most fun if they dress up.

Nero is supportive, he’s fine with whichever costume Kyrie wants to do, he doesn’t push and he’s fine with just going as they are as well if it spares Kyrie some trouble, but the kids are very insistent. And Kyrie sometimes has a hard time saying no to them.

Knowing it’s one of Kyrie’s favorite Disney movies, Nero suggests Beauty and the Beast for the two of them. Kyrie wants Nero to have fun and get the whole experience by dressing up, but at first, she is a little bit hesitant about his suggestion. She never wants Nero to feel like she doubts him or his humanity ever again.

They have been through a lot and so, they just talk it out, ending the discussion with soft whispers of love and care and in agreement over their choice.

As for their costumes, they don’t buy anything new. They check their closets for anything unused or something that can just be adjusted. In their eyes, the details don’t have to be perfect as long as they are both having fun. Kyrie also has a field day trying to put make-up on Nero’s face for the Beast look. Honestly, she does a good job. And the clothes she adjusted for Nero’s blue Beast attire, as well as her own blue and white dress for Belle, look great and she feels proud over her work.

At the convention, Nero will make sure to keep an eye on her, make sure she won’t be dehydrated or stay on her feet for too long in queues. It’s mostly unexplored ground for both of them, but they have a lot of fun just people-watching and following the three orphans under their care around, as the boys point out characters that they know everywhere. If the boys don’t recognize someone, they’ll run right up and ask.

Their camera roll is full of pictures of other cosplayers and the kids posing at the end of the day. And Nico snuck in a few pictures of Nero and Kyrie as well.

Dante:

It’s a party, Dante’s interested, enough said. He doesn’t mind grabbing the most ridiculous outfits if it gives him the love of the crowd. At a convention, people of all ages gather so it will be some simple, awesome fun.

As for him choosing a cosplay, the Dr. Faust hat has made him realize he rocks wearing a hat so he initially thought of cosplaying Alucard from Hellsing but after realizing V would cosplay another Alucard, he switched gears. Actually, Dante might just prefer cosplaying a character that likes having fun, just like he does.

By coincidence, he found Vash the Stampede from Trigun and though there is no hat involved, hey, the guy rocks red just as well as Dante does and he uses guns. Does Dante know anything about the character? Not really but that doesn’t stop him from rocking it. Plus, Dante already has red clothes, it’s just a matter of going into character because adjusting those clothes, he knows not how to do.

At said convention, he instantly clicks with a Deadpool cosplayer and they dance to Michael Jackson songs. They also photobomb some cosplay shoots, all in good fun. He lives for the spirit of people just having fun and humans just being humans, gathering thanks to a common interest.

Dante is the type who comes to a convention with several outfits. Or at least he would, if he had enough money for it. Since most of his paycheck goes to keeping the gas, water and electricity at Devil May Cry running, he resorts to simple, but effective ways to show off character, both his own and from other series.

When the idea of going to a cosplay convention is first introduced to him, along with what it actually entails, he’s a bit skeptical. Nico telling him that there will be a ton of people doesn’t really sell him on it as he’s not that fond of crowds. But hearing that many will dress up as characters from stories they enjoy catches his attention. If he agrees to go, maybe he should be sure to make the most of it. And when Nico notices that shift in his demeanor, she keeps pushing him to join, juuust a bit.

For V, cosplay sounds like a way to show appreciation for characters and the stories they star in. Being the big fan of literature and poetry that he is, this aspect of the event does trigger his interest but when Nico gives him the idea to try out cosplay himself, she suggests that he shouldn’t go with cosplaying William Blake. Griffon laughs out loud at the mere idea but his suggestion of V cosplaying as a Disney princess (the orphans under Nero’s and Kyrie’s care have tried to show the avian various Disney movies, further adding to his arsenal of nicknames for V), is equally shot down.

V does want to put some thought and care into who to cosplay, but he also acknowledges his lack of sewing skills and is not too into the thought of buying a costume for himself with his limited funds. Kyrie offers to help but he is hesitant to accept it, seeing how she is trying to make something wearable for both herself, Nero and three little boys.

Ultimately, Nico and surprisingly, Dante become his greatest helpers. The childhood home of the sons of Spardas might have mostly fallen apart, but there are still some of their father’s old black robes in one of the rooms. It needs some adjustments, being too big on V’s lean frame, but the length is pretty spot on.

Nico demonstrates an automatic multi-tool that includes both measuring and sewing capabilities, as well as a laser pointer and a demon alarm that accidentally trips when Griffon is present. V doesn’t ask why she saw the necessity to put all of those functions together, but in the end, two of them are helpful for their situation. And she will show it off at the convention, as part of her genius.

How Dante does it, V doesn’t know, but one day, a long blonde wig is delivered to Devil May Cry, perfect for his decided cosplay. Turns out Dante’s flirt with the lady at the costume shop was helpful.

Ultimately, V feels very satisfied with his appearance as Alucard from Castlevania. The black robes are a different material from his regular leather vest but it’s still in black and thus, he feels right at home in it rather quickly. The long blonde wig takes some more time to adjust to.

What he had not anticipated were people asking to photograph him in this getup but thankfully, V took his time to research his character’s lines and mannerisms. Alucard is a gentleman, so V doesn’t find it very hard at all.

During the convention, Nero and Kyrie have enough on their plate, keeping an eye on the boys, so Nico usually stays close to V. Their chosen media are not anything alike, but that hardly matters. Nico is easily swept up in the excitement of the convention and seeing her makes V think that letting loose once in a while isn’t so bad.

Griffon stars in V’s cosplay as well, dressed up as a bat.

The next day, V will be a bit socially exhausted. Expect him to keep to himself with his book and tea for a good remainder of the day.

#dmc headcanons #my writing #dmc v #dmc nero #dmc kyrie #dmc nico #dmc dante #thedyingmoon

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doodle-zombie · 3 years ago

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Lamia Bonding #17

*Takes place immediately following the massive RP I did with @theriverpersonshadow

“Hey,” Val drawled tiredly, stifling a yawn as she put the car into park and cut the engine. They’d finally arrived back home after a long drive filled with too much caffeine and not enough entertainment so she was making good on her promise to contact Nikolai. Of course, nobody was awake at this hour and she’d gotten an answering machine so she figured a voicemail was just as good. “We made it back home safe and sound. Piper is about to break free for the first time on the property. I’ll send you a video of the zoomies!”

She paused, dragging herself out of the van and unleashing the terrors upon her land. Sangria was watching from his basking rock, coiled up with a look of such heavy disgruntlement that she was immediately filled with fondness. Much of his ill-temper was feigned, she knew, and his inability to properly translate his thoughts to her. He’d had the good sense to keep Admiral contained in the house, for now, giving Piper time to stare at the surrounding trees with awe. Valerie was quick to finish her voicemail so she could take a video of the moment. Piper would never have seen such open spaces before or trees packed that tightly together.

At first, he looked between her and the surrounding forest before it seemed to click that he was allowed to explore this new world he found himself in. It was a good thing she’d already been recording because he started to zoom and keeping track of him was a challenge in itself. The grass was well maintained despite the fact she was out in the middle of nowhere and nobody ever came onto the property (her mailbox was a hike away and packages were picked up at the post office) so Piper didn’t disappear into the weeds as he zipped around.

“Wowie,” he was chanting. Over and over again, enchanted by this brand new world he’d never seen before. It must have been the smallest bit overwhelming because Piper didn’t seem to be able to form any other words.

“What’s that on the big rock, Piper?” Val called out, trying to muffle her laughter when Sangria gave her a betrayed look. Piper’s eye lights got huge in his sockets when he spotted the iridescence of Sangria’s scales, darting over and clamoring up the rock only to get distracted by the lingering warmth upon his scales. “Ah yes, Piper has discovered the coveted basking rock!”

Marmalade hummed from behind her, his tone amused when he spoke. “it was a good thing we moved it then.”

“Yep.” Valerie panned the camera around the clearing, showing off the cabinesque structure that served as her current home. Everything else was trees, trees, and more trees! “That spot gets sunlight all day and keeps the heat for a while afterward. The most coveted position on the property.”

“second most coveted,” Currant grumbled.

Oh yes, the first most coveted spot on the property was wrapped around her. Not that Valerie ever seemed to compute that they only went to the rock when she wasn’t available. It was right outside the window that faced her desk so she always had a good view of it and they always had a good view of her. When she was working at least one of them would be upon the rock.

“And here we have the pride of the property, the lord of my castle, Sangria!” Valerie had walked over to the rock, zooming in on the Mamba’s expression when faced with the delight of Piper’s company. Sangria appeared grumpy at first glance but she could see just how happy he was to have a young one to protect, the end of his tail curling around the bitty Pygmy. “The rock is his stage. Look at those scales!”

“THAT IS HARDLY MY GOOD SIDE,” he huffed, obligingly moving his tail so the shining scales caught the light and shone a rainbow of colors. “ENVY MY SCALES, PEASANTS.”

Adorably, Piper seemed to be making a similar attempt to show off how pretty his scales were and Val cooed at the pair of them. She had no illusions that Sangria was simply humoring her while the camera was on. As soon as she was alone he would likely have words for her so it was good to butter him up by loading on the praise in front of an audience of unknown numbers. Plus, Sangria was beautiful enough she loved showing him off.

“You are a very handsome Lamia,” she agreed.

“Piper handsome too?”

“Very much so, little jewel. Now, would you like to meet Admiral and Lapis?”

“Yeah!”

“VALERIE.”

She very pointedly ignored the tone used to say her name, scooping Piper up with one hand and marching towards the front door. Admiral made no secret of his location, peering out from one of the front windows and following their path with his one eye light. Lapis was nowhere in sight but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also watching.

“Ignore Sangria, he just doesn’t know how to ask for things yet. Work in progress.” Getting the door open took a bit of juggling but her full-sized Pygmy slipped out of the door as soon as it was open and began to climb her. Valerie angled her phone to record his progress until he was shoving his skull into her neck for a welcoming nuzzle and peering at Piper. “Where’s Lapis at?”

“Desk,” Admiral replied. “Hi, ‘m Admiral. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Piper! Hi!”

Carrying two Lamia and managing her phone wasn’t as difficult as it sounded since Piper and Admiral were more than capable of hanging onto her themselves to keep from falling. So Val easily navigated the entryway and scooped up the surprised Corny that had been napping in the sunlight on her desk. Lapis was basically a limp weight in her grasp, confident with the knowledge she wouldn’t let him fall.

“And this sleepy skull is Lapis.” He lazily waved at the camera, falling back asleep on her shoulders once she settled him there. His shenanigans must have thoroughly exhausted him while she was away if he was still tired. “The devious prankster that gave a Pygmy caffeine and incited chaos at Caring Coils.”

“you got a bone to pick with me?”

“Several,” she teased, setting him back into the warm spot he was napping in. Poor boy was too tired for more shenanigans. “I don’t know the last time Piper had protein so I’m going to feed him when it’s time for the boys to have their frozen-thawed food and if he wants anything between then and now I have some perfect snacks.”

As much as she would have loved to avoid Sangria for the rest of the day it would only incite his anger if he was put off. Admiral could tire Piper out showing him around the house while she dutifully went for a Mamba scolding. She sent the two Pygmy off with little pats to the skull, watching them slither quickly away. On her way back out to the yard she spotted Currant and Marmalade flopped atop the basking rock, having evicted Sangria from his position. The Mamba in question was carefully coiled on the edge of the clearing, staring at her without blinking as she trudged towards him.

She would have found it terrifying if she didn’t suspect that Sangria was worried about his position in the family more than anything.

“How many more?” he asked without preamble. Valerie couldn’t be sure but she felt like he was purposefully making himself smaller just so she felt more at ease. As if his large personality wasn’t something she enjoyed.

“However many fit,” was the answer she gave, sitting on the grass beside him. “But that’s not what you really want to ask, is it?”

Sangria was silent, expression soured, so she sighed.

“Every lamia that comes into my life is meant to be there,” she declared. “I feel it. So I can’t give you a number.”

“You can’t possibly have enough time for all of us.”

“Sure I can! You’re not a dog or a cat that relies on me entirely, Sangria.” Gentle fingers cupped the back of his head, pulling him against her shoulder. He avoided looking at her but that was why she brought his head to her shoulder, arms going around him. “Everyone has a place in this home. We wouldn’t be so safe if it wasn’t for you. I wouldn’t be able to tolerate going shopping if I didn’t have Currant with me, where he was safe and happy. I can’t imagine going a day without feeling Marmalade’s bond to me. All of you have a place in my heart and my heart has a lot of places for more of you. So don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”

He didn’t speak or cry, not that she expected that from him, but his gloved claws did sink into the thick material of her shirt. Like he wasn’t ready to give up some alone time yet.

That was fine, she didn’t have anywhere else to be.

#zombie writes #lamiatale #sangria #marmalade #currant #piper #lapis #self insert #Feel free to imagine Val never turned the video off #so she sends the whole thing lol

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rheisa-midnightfury · 5 years ago

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Where the beans at?

@vlanderzine had a great idea of “What if they had to hide the coffee from Kai.” And I felt called out to write it. So... here goes nothing.

Drip. Drip. Black drops dripped slowly into a dark concentration of liquid into a transparent jar. Maroon eyes starred at the beverage across the glass. Arms on the table, Kai rested his head on them, looking at the coffee with dreamy eyes. Almost the same look he gives to his own reflection. The kitchen was empty, the master of fire tried to be here before the others get out of the bed. Quietly stomping his feet impatiently he leaned closer to the coffee jar.

”Why does this take so long?” He looked behind himself, making sure he didn’t wake up any of the ninjas. ”Come on you!” As the words left his mouth, the coffee had been ready to drink. ”YES! Finally!” Yelled in joy, but he realized in time that he shouldn’t have. Reaching for a red mug on the shelf, he looked around once again, quicker this time and grabbed the jar. One drop of coffee almost hit the bottom of the mug, when a raspy clearing of throats sounded from behind.

”Kaiii! You know what caffeine does to you.” The water ninja stepped next to her brother and took the mug from his hands. ”Do you wanna drive us crazy?”

”C’mon sis! Like when did I ever drive you guys crazy?” and he gripped back his mug from Nya’s hold.

” Er... Every time you drink coffee? Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

”Bah! Why do you have to bring it up?! I said a MILLION times I’m sorry.” Replied with a high pitched voice.

”We still have some bruises left from when you were so eager to hug all of us and burned our arms since you had no control of your power.”

”Gee! I was just extremely happy for you guys letting me drink coffee. Is that a bad thing?”

”Being happy is not, hurting us is!”

”Come on! One sip won’t hurt anyone.” Taking the red mug away, he aimed for the whole coffee jar to drink from.

”No! More! Coffee! For you, Kai!” And just in time, Nya took the coffee jar from Kai, spilling some on the floor. ”Wanna have coffee? Drink decaf ones.”

”You can’t be serious.” Eyes widened, jaw dropped in disbelief. ”I won’t drink decaff. It’s like, eating veggies for the tase and not for the vitamins.”

” What!? Some vegetables are actually tast… Argh! No Kai. It’s for the best.”

Embracing his lose, Kai collapsed into one of the chairs around the dinner table, resting his jaw in his fist, like a child. In the meantime, Nya placed the jar on the counter alongside with free mugs. Green, black and gray. Milk was poured into all of the mugs, such as coffee.

Slowly, the rest of the team had also made their way into the kitchen. Some were in pajama and some in… sort of pajama. Kai wore tight underwear with socks and tank tops on. Nya had shorts with a spaghetti strap shirt. The green ninja had gray gym shorts on and a tight white t-shirt. Jay had long black pajama pants on, blue tank top and fluffy slippers. Black, tight tank top was on Cole with matching long workout pants. Zane went with the classic pajama, with some snowflakes patterns on it.

Loud yawning and whispers of ’Good mornings!’ filled the room. Lloyd sat next to Kai, already drinking his own coffee and sprinkling some cinnamon on top. He was too tired this morning to get anything else for breakfast. He��ll have something to eat if there will be any leftover toast or eggs. Jay almost dropped his cinnamon bun from his plate as he slowly walked to the table and took a seat, in front of Lloyd. Gently stroking his boyfriend’s back, Nya also took place in the dinner table with a ham sandwich and his cappuccino. For Lloyd’s luck, Zane prepared some toast for everyone. Cole stayed beside him, looking for some milk for his cereal. As the last slice of bread had popped up from the toaster and a mountain of whipped cream was placed on Cole’s mug of coffee, both the earth and ice ninja had joined the rest of the team. Kai and Lloyd reached for the toasts, as soon as the plate’s bottom hit the table. Everyone was quiet. Only silent chewing filled the otherwise silent kitchen. Cranching on his cereal, Cole looked at his mug and opened his mouth to speak, breaking the almost comforting silence.

”Man, I can’t believe we ran out of chocolate sprinkles.”

Tired eyes faced the earth ninja, as Lloyd tossed the cinnamon shaker to him. ”Here, use this.”

”Thanks, man!” Relaxed smile sat on Cole’s face as he sprinkled the spice into his drink. But not everyone was this relaxed and calmed.

”What a disaster you can’t place sprinkles on your coffee. Well, guess what! I can’t even have a SIP of coffee.” Fists slammed on the table, chair pushed backward with a loud squeak as Kai jumped up from his seat.

”Whoa! Easy there!” Confidant pair of eyes faced Kai’s angerful ones. ”No need for this just because caffeine has a bad effect on you.”

”Yeah. Look! I’m not drinking coffee either. Am I angry about it? No.” Spoke Jay with mouth covered with cinnamon and frosting.

”You don’t even like it.” Kai found his usual annoyed tone switching from the previous furious one. He calmed down. At least he tried. He had to. He didn’t want to start his morning with a fight, especially not with Cole who always had extreme strength no matter the time of the day.

”Just enjoy your breakfast. After all, we’re just talking about a drink.” The rested and calm voice eased the fire ninja. Grabbing his friend by his arm, Lloyd smiled at Kai and pushed his mug away. ”If it makes you happy, I won’t finish mine.”

A sour smile sat on the red ninja’s face, he sat back to his chair and remained silent for the rest of the time. He crossed his arms and waited for everyone to finish their food and leave.

Last bites were taken, dishes had been cleaned and one by one, everyone left the kitchen. Everyone, but Kai and the mug that Lloyd had put aside was still on the table. Kai swallowed, as he already felt the taste of coffee in his mouth. He reached for the mug and…

”No, Kai!” Nya stepped back to the scene just in time. ”I won’t argue about it. You can’t have any and that’s IT!”

And the coffee was poured into the sink. Grumpy huff left Kai as he leaned back on his chair and watched his sister leaving the room once again. As Nya left, the fire ninja jumped up from his chair and rushed to the jar, only to find it empty. He searched through the whole kitchen, but he couldn’t find the beans, nor the instant powder. However, there was only one cabinet he hasn’t checked. He wide opened the wings, and there it was. A whole bag of unopened powder of coffee. He grabbed it and rushed back to the coffee machine. He almost opened the bag, when his eyes caught on the wrapping of the powder. ’Decaff’.

”Argh! COME! ON!” He didn’t even fancy putting the bag back to its place. Instead, he just left it on the counter and returned to his own room to finally get dressed. Thought his usual morning routine will drag his attention from the fact that Nya had hidden the beans somewhere. He laid down in his bed, to his back, looking at the ceiling, juggling with a small ball of fire. Thinking. Taking a big breath, the fireball vanished in his palm, got up from the bed and walked to the mirror. Starring at his own reflection he squinted and leaned forward.

“I’m sure she hid them somewhere.” He shrugged and grabbed a bottle of hair gel, from a drawer next to him. Making his hair as spikey as possible, he winked at himself with a satisfied smirk. But the smirk slowly faded and his features became more annoyed-looking. “But where can those coffee beans be?!”

The door opened, Kai stuck his head out to get a better look at the hallway. Cole’s room was just on the other side of the hall. The usual loud music, which was coming from the black ninja’s room had suddenly muted, which only meant one thing. He switched to headphones. Kai knew the only reason Cole would place headphones on. It’s a sing he either started working out or doodling. Perfect. The fire ninja sneaked out from his room and carefully opened Cole’s door. Just as Kai expected. The black ninja had started lifting weights. No way he’s gonna turn around. At least, that’s what Kai hoped. He now entered the room and started searching. Nya knows how much he hates dueling with Cole, so she expects Kai not to enter the earth ninja’s room. But the coffee was at stake. His coffee, which he deserved.

The room looked surprisingly neat. His bed was nicely embedded, all the CDs were in a nice order next to his stereo. There wasn’t much stuff there, and everything had its own place.

Tossing away piles of sketchbooks, cd covers, and deodorants he gave up. It must be somewhere else. Kai tried to place back everything to its place, or at least he tried. Thinking he made a good job cleaning and removing his traces, he left. Carefully closed the door and leaned back to the wall. The next place to check was Lloyd’s room, but the green ninja hardly ever leaves his place and he’s always on a high alert, hears every little sound. No way he can go searching in his room. Sighing he slow-walked to the one door next to his own. Worried smile rested on his face, as he placed his ear on the door, listening if the lightning ninja was in his room. Jay hardly ever stayed in, as a social junkie he was. He usually hangs out at Cole’s place and annoyed the earth ninja with his endless talking. Luckily Cole got used to his friend’s behavior and learned how to lock out his dinginess. If not there, he would also lay on the couth outside, playing video games and waiting for someone to approach and have a conversation with.

The room seemed empty. Door opened, Kai entered. It was empty indeed, but the sight wasn’t pleasant for the fire ninja. Laundry clothes were all over the floor, bags of chips and cans of drinks were at the table. Stacks of old games and broken controllers at one corner, rusty and oily spare parts in the other.

“Yikes! Looks like someone needs a big clean-up.” Grabbing a half-eaten pizza slice he gave a pitty full smirk and throw the food under the bed. “How could my sister fall for you? HOW CAN WE BE RELATED?” Between several of annoyed groans, huffs, and grunts he dug up the whole place wich looked in better condition now, than when Kai entered.

“This is hopeless. If the beans were here, there would be no way to find them in such a huge mess.” Slammed closed the door and buried his head to his own palms. Two more rooms left to check: Nya’s and Zane’s. With all the cameras and security systems placed at the nindroid’s place, there was no way on Earth he’ll attempt to enter. Even if he’s able to play out the system, all the hidden cameras would record his every move. ‘Why does Zane need such a defense in his room. Huh, that dude always has been weird.’

No other choice left, he needed to look at Nya’s room now. Same thing he did to Jay’s place. First, observe if his sister was inside, or not. Nothing, but silence. There is always a chance she’s not staying in her room, with Nya it’s always a mystery. Slowly, carefully, the door opened and the eyes of the fire ninja caught on one thing right away. Blushing in embarrassment, he half-closed the door, so he could hear everything clearly, but not see.

“KAI! DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK?!” Burst out his sister in such a high pitched voice, that Kai had never heard.

“Yeah, dude! Not cool!” Yelled Jay too, who was holding Nya at his arms with several of smooch marks on his face.

“I… er…” Kai froze in a second. He wanted to slap Jay in the face so badly, he still couldn’t get used to him making out with his sister. All sorts of emotions sat on his face just in a minute to finally decide to leave. Leave before Nya asks him what he wanted and finds out he’s seeking the coffee beans. He took one step back only to find himself bumping into a muscly chest.

“Do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Kai turned around, finding Cole standing behind him. He still had some pearls of sweat on his forehead and biceps from working out. “What were you doing in my room, pretty-hair?” Holding a small mirror in his arms for proof. It must have had fallen out from Kai’s pocket while he was staying at the earth ninja’s room. Nervous laughs left the fire ninja as he carefully reached for the small mirror, already making up a dumb excuse.

“D-don’t you remember? You b-borrowed it, to fix your eyebrows.” Smiled sassily.

“Since when would I ask for your tiny mirror when I have a big one in my room. And when did I ever wanted to pull my eyebrows?”

“Maybe you should try it, a small makeover would make those bushes look better.”

A growl left Cole, making Kai back of a little. Searching for a small gap between the black ninja and the doorway he almost escaped to his room when Zane stopped him. He was holding a tablet right into Kai’s face.

“Was there a reason why you lurked around my door? You know you have the permission to enter any time for help.”

Even more nervous laughs, another dumb excuse.

“I just… dropped my… hairt…tie?” He swallowed. “I had to pick it up.” It’s now or never, leave them to think and return to his own room. That was the plan. He almost got away, when Jay jumped up from the bed and hurried to the ice ninja to take a better look at the footage.

“Ey! You weren’t just lurking in the hallway. You entered my room!” Yelled in his usual whiny voice.

“Hey! Guys! Let’s just all calm down… and b-be reasonable.” He gently took of Cole’s grip from his shoulder, but the earth ninja quickly grabbed him again, not letting him escape. For his own defense, he put on the typical of a charming smile, but it did not work… as usual.

“Kai! What is the meaning of this?” Nya walked next to her brother, releasing him from Cole’s strong hold. “You broke into Cole’s room, but you also did to Jay’s. I repeat, to Jay’s.”

Looking around the whole group, Kai had no other choice, but to admit his loss. He took a big breath, looked everyone in the eye and shrugged.

“I just really wanted to find the coffee beans you hid from me…”

Nya shook her head in disbelief. “Hide the beans? No. Kai…” She smiled at her brother, trying to make him feel better. “We just ran out of coffee beans. I was about to get some this afternoon. No one is hiding anything from you.”

“Really?” Kai looked rather surprised and relieved at the same time. “Sorry for messing with you guys.”

“Yeah, you’d better.” Added Cole. “Now I have to reorganize the CDs to be in genre order.” And without further ado, he returned to his room, beckoning for Zane to do the same.

“Maybe I overreacted a little…” Kai rubbed his neck before turning around, leaving the couple alone. Jay raised his eyebrows on the fire ninja and then turned his head towards to Nya.

“Did we really ran out of coffee beans?”

The water ninja didn’t reply, not immediately. She first closed the room's door and started giggling, taking a bag of coffee beans out from her purse.

“No, we didn’t”

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marylovettpostgradblog · 4 years ago

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1. IS IT BECAUSE I AM A GIRL?

Too Few Women in Audio

My work to date has been weighted more towards working with people in a therapeutic way rather than music technology. I have a ”Freelance portfolio career” which loosely translated means juggling different projects simultaneously to pay the rent. Most of which have been in community music and theatre. The work consists of, performance, commissions for music for immersive site specific theatre and directing community choirs.

My rationale for choosing to study Creative Music Production is to develop the technical skills be able to produce my own music to an industry standard. (whatever that means) To to accurately translate compositional ideas and in turn do justice to them. Despite having used Logic as my preferred DAW for over twelve years, I still feel like I have only just dipped my toe into the program, and its capabilities. I enjoy working in my own small home studio and the security it provides. I am currently confronting my feelings of overwhelm with the studio desk at the University.

During my experience of music technology education over the last 16 years, women have definitely been in the minority. Reflecting on my own feelings embarking on Masters study, I really notice how a lack of self confidence rises within me particularly around technology.

For years I have been more interested in the process of composition rather than mixing and production. Preferring to leave this to other more technically skilled people. This has often resulted in being unsatisfied with the end result.

I thought that being able to speak the language of the studio and understanding what things did would help in communicating ideas about the mix. While this certainly helps, I have come to the conclusion that there is no substitute for learning to do this my self. Having to overcome this reluctance was something I wanted to investigate. Why the reluctance? What is the difficulty? Surely it's not because I am a girl?

fig 1: Leslie Gaston-Bird

I began to look at texts about women in the music industry and in particular production and engineering. My interest was piqued when looking into gender within the music industry as a whole and examining the technical roles of women. Exploring this opens a whole world of historical, sociological, systemic, and complex reasons as to why this has been the case and remains present today.

Women in Early Audio

Fig 2: Ada Lovelace 1840

Ada’s place in history was not only for her outstanding work but also assisted by her lineage. Her Father being Lord Byron, the famous poet and politician and her Mother, Annabella Milbanke, ensuring that she was tutored in Mathematics, logic and science. She worked alongside Charles Babbage who was developing a machine called the “Analytical Engine.” James Essinger in his book “Ada’s Algorithm” says that “With her definition of the word “operation,” she is giving birth to the science of computing and computer programming and is in fact now regarded to be the inventor of computer programming. (Gaston Bird 2020)

In relation to music Ada wrote, “Supposing, for instance, that the fundamental relations of pitched sounds in the science of harmony and of musical composition were susceptible of such expression and adaptations, the engine might compose elaborate and scientific pieces of music of any degree of complexity or extent” (Essinger, 2014).

Sophie Germain a French Mathematician. Answering an “open call” call in 1808 from the Academy of Science for Mathematicians, (A place where girls were not allowed to study) to build on the work of Ernest Chladni. He had described the resonant frequencies of vibration with the patterns made from sand on a metal plate. Germain’s work was to develop the formulae to mathematically predict what the resonances would be. This was not acknowledged at the time. Even when she had won the grand prize at the Institute of Science in France (on her third attempt.) She was not invited to the Grand Prix ceremony and not allowed to publish her work. She self-published in 1821.

Fig 3: Patterns of sand on a metal plate with the vibration from a violin bow

Historically Women’s achievements in STEM subjects (Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics) have been hampered by not being able to access this type of education. Those that have broken through are have been uncredited and their work not recognised, or excluded. Sophie Germain's formula was used in architecture to measure that stresses on metal. This contributed to the building of the Eiffel Tower. “However, you will not find Germain’s name on any of the four sides of the Tower, which was built between 1887 and 1889 and upon which are inscribed the names of 72 scientists who contributed their intellect to its construction.” (Mozans 1913)

Woman were actively excluded from education and professions deemed (by men) to be unfit for Women. Today, the door is not so blatantly closed as it was for Sophie Germain back in 1802.

Perhaps more subtle barriers are at play? Audio Engineering is a profession open to all genders, yet we never hear the term “Male audio engineer.” When women in the same profession, they are described with her gender as the prefix.

“Gender-based designations such as these have been the case throughout history; perhaps more so in science, technology, engineering, and math, where women are underrepresented. In contemporary discussions in the media, we hear the phrases “women in medicine” or “women in physics.”(Gaston-Bird 2020)

The ratio of male to female producers is estimated to be 47-1 (Smith et al 2020)

The question of why this might be continues to be asked. Singer songwriter and producer Rosina Ncube says that her experience at school could be described as “character building”, being the only female in the music technology class. Not being chosen to collaborate in group work, and having to speak louder to be heard. She also recollects, being crowded away from the mixing desk whenever there was a demonstration. “Suggesting an idea, having it rejected, then when a guy suggests exactly the same thing 20 minutes later, everyone loves it. Frustrating? You bet, and it's just one in a string of similar experiences that I have had as a woman starting out in the world of music production.” (Ncube R 2013)

fig 4: Rosina Ncube

The comedy sketch from the “Fast Show”posted beautifully illustrates what Rosina Ncube was saying. See fig 9 below

In 2004 I accidentally discovered Imogen Heap when she was playing solo supporting Rufus Wainwright. This was inspiring and influential to me to have a female role model using tech and playing live. She wrote, recorded and engineered her music. Winning a Grammy for best Engineered non classical album in 2009. What is it that young women and girls need to be encouraged into audio? Female role models to aspire to? Women teaching and leading workshops in music technology in schools and colleges? Programs specifically for girls and women? I began to look at how these questions are being addressed.

Organisations across the world have developed specifically to encourage women into the industry. The Yorkshire Sound Women Network is one of these, founded in 2015 by Dr Liz Dobson.

“We have to be in an environment which is lower risk, which – in this case – means not being the only woman in a world which associates masculinity and technology; to remove that risk to be in a community of peers; and to have a chance to put your hands on and use equipment. To make mistakes and learn from that” (Dobson 2019).

fig 5 Yorkshire Sound Women Network

youtube

fig 6 Yorkshire Sound Women Network Workshop Video

Thoughts and Musings:

Digging in to gender disparity has the potential to enrage, dishearten and become a cul-de-sac that could distract from my main objective of being better at production! Heartening though, are initiatives like the YSWN. Watching the video and seeing the excitement and enthusiasm of the girls taking part in the workshop was an absolute joy. It seems that throughout my studies gender and audio are intrinsically entwined. This topic once explored, impossible to ignore and yet I’d like to be able to ignore it and get on with being a creative music producer. Much like Leslie Gaston Bird would rather just be called an audio engineer, but that’s not how she is represented.

“I am not a woman in audio. I am an audio engineer. Nor am I a “Black woman audio engineer.” I am an audio engineer who happens to be a Black woman.” (Gaston-Bird 2019)

youtube

fig 7 The Incredible Invisible woman

References:

https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=5988228

https://www.soundonsound.com/people/sounding-why-so-few-women-audio

https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=5988228

http://researchonline.rcm.ac.uk/id/eprint/334/1/SaltMusic-Research-Report.pdf

Images:

Fig1: https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=5988228

Fig 2:https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=5988228

Fig 3:https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/herts/detail.action?docID=5988228

Fig 4:www.soundonsound.com/people/sounding-why-so-few-women-audio

Fig 5: https://yorkshiresoundwomen.com/

Fig 6: https://yorkshiresoundwomen.com/

Fig 7:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DE3r_CgScms&ab_channel=Lizallinos

#reflection

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taewoovld · 5 years ago

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( bass boosted ) surprise bitch i bet you thought you saw the last of me.

i once again am asking for your plots. it’s me again, kit. please love my literal clown of a boy, taewoo. i have a pinterest for him, you can find his bio here, and then some more info under the cut if you’re too lazy to read bios like i am. come like this if you want me to im you or hmu on discord. i don’t have a plots page yet but stay tuned.

warn born in south korea but moved to america with his parents when he was two who joined a travelling circus

culture was still very important in their house ( trailer ) and they never spoke english while inside it

after the decade he spent in the states his english still isn’t perfect

while in the circus he specialised in balancing acts ( not that he ever performed since he was still babie, but he really wanted to one day ) like tight rope, and his unicycle

but he was also learned lots of other tricks too! he juggles, he can do hand stands, bend backs, flips, and one of his favorites are his devil sticks which when he became older, he started to light them on fire. uwu

he can even put his legs behind his head. do splits in both directions. flexible king.

when he was twelve/thirteen it was discovered that his family was staying in america illegally, as their visa ran out quite some time ago. they were barely given time to pack their things before they were deported back to south korea

they were likely just as poor as when they’d started a decade before.

every other weekend tae would take the train into seoul with one of his acts and busk for some extra money. this is how kmg found him

he went to and audition and made it, wow!!!

and now he is the leader of kmg’s trainee boy group: danger

some fun fax for u

taewoo takes animal crossing very seriously and plays it almost every day if he can

he paints his nails a lot for fun, which the stylists are going to hate. if there’s no polish he’ll use sharpie

just wants to Hold A Hand. will hold hands with his members. staff. fans.

every member of danger will get a good morning hug. and on god he will say good night to them, even if he has to facetime them

he feels weirdly comfortable being a trainee because packed schedules? moving around a lot? small living spaces? dancing for money? circus.

the one thing that’s better is that the other people performing are all around his age, so he has many more friends in circus 2.0

his bones crack eternally. so much. always. not on purpose, he just moves and u think you’ve stepped on en empty water bottle

while in the circus he read and wrote a lot. he’d write anything from poems, to stories, to songs. one day he hopes to write a song for danger.

he chews like a chipmunk. cheeks puffed. am waiting for for compilation videos to pop up on youtube once he debuts

scared of everything - bugs, birds, fish, his own shadow sometimes, u name it

can’t whistle to save his life

will tell you how sexy you are. will give that bicep a grab and be amazed at how much you’ve been working out. compliment machine.

his mantra is water off a duck’s back

#vldintro

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deaky-disco-queen · 5 years ago

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Bubbles - Froger Week Day 2

A/N: It’s Froger Week everybody! I Chose bubble bath and cockwarming as my first prompts ;) Thanks for the lovely @emmaandorlando for Hosting this week!

Can also be read on AO3.

+++

Roger fumbled with the keys, trying to get the right one into the lock while juggling his textbooks, his water bottle and laptop in his other hand. The bottom of his bag had ripped earlier that day and its contents had spilled all over the uni hallway. The only reason he hadn’t thrown it away immediately was that he didn’t have enough money to look for a new one right now- his paycheck still hadn’t come in- and he hoped Freddie might be able to fix it.

Somehow, he managed to open the door without dropping anything and put anything onto their shoe rack so he could untie his sneakers and put them next to the already overflowing rack. For a moment, he thought about picking up his things to clean them up but he was tired and didn’t feel like doing much more than taking a nap. He felt the headache coming up already.

“Hello, darling, how was your day?”

Freddie appeared in the doorway, looking as if he had only just woke up with his hair unstyled and framing his face messily. He probably did. Since their rent has gone up, Freddie had been working night shifts as a front desk clerk, often coming home after the sun has risen already and went to bed while Roger made himself breakfast before heading to university.

“Awful, I wanna nap.”

A frown appeared on Freddie’s face, then he softened and opened his arms. With him looking all soft, warm and cozy it was hard to resist and Roger shuffled over, letting himself pulled into a hug and nuzzled his neck. Freddie managed to hold him up easily even when Roger put all his weight on him.

“Okay, I’ll take care of your things while you get changed and get into bed. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Roger hummed and they shared a chaste kiss before he slipped past him into their small bedroom. Freddie’s gigantic bed just barely fitted in alongside their closet- not that their closet was big enough for all their clothes in the first place- but neither of them wanted to get rid of it. It was comfortable and spacious, having enough space for both them and their dozens of pillows and abundance of blankets.

He undressed quickly, half-heartedly folding them before putting them to the side before rummaging through their closet to find his most comfortable sweatpants and the striped shirt he had already worn so thin he was afraid it would rip soon. He still loved it, though.

As soon as he was changed, he crawled onto the bed, pulled his favorite blanket free, arranged his pillow and then let himself fall face first into it. He let out a long groan and closed his eyes. The faint pulsing in his temples grew stronger and he took a deep breath to steady himself and hoped it wouldn’t get any worse. He couldn’t deal with a full blown migraine right now.

The door opened with a quiet creak and then he heard Freddie’s footsteps coming to the bed.

“I brought you some tea and some leftover rice from yesterday.”

Roger sat up again, taking both the mug and the plate from him, putting the mug on the bedside table to be able to eat. Freddie settled down next to him with a bowl of fried rice for himself. He brushed a strand of hair out of Roger’s face, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. Roger sighed and leaned against him for a second before eating a small bit off the food. It tasted good but he wasn’t very hungry. Still, he ate because he should and it made Freddie happy and so he ate.

He managed about half of the plate, then he had to put it away or he throw up. He laid back down, one arm thrown over Freddie’s stomach. He was warm and comfortable and Roger had no shame snuggling up to him, tangling their legs together. One of Freddie’s hands found its way into his hair, gently combing through it and scratching over his scalp any once in a while which made him humm happily, eyes falling shut.

He must have falling asleep very quickly because next thing he remembered was Freddie singing under his breath, no plates in sight and Freddie had set up his laptop to play one of those bird videos for their cats, three of them sitting in front of it, watching it intently. It made him smile despite his head hurting and he reached for the cat closest to him, Tiffany, to give her a couple of weak scratches.

“Awake again?” Freddie murmured, kissing his forehead.

Roger hummed, letting his eyes fall shut again to block out the light that hurt his head.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

“Baths are your thing.” Roger murmured as he nuzzled into Freddie’s chest.

He was warm and solid and Roger curled his body even more towards him, throwing his leg over his and slid his foot between his calves. Freddie shifted to give him the space he needed and pulled him up until his head was resting higher on his chest, just below his collarbone. He could hear his heartbeat that way, the steady rhythm being the only thing he actually wanted to hear at the moment. The other sounds he could bear but this, combined with Freddie’s fingers carding through his hair calmed him down immensely, even if it didn’t make the pain go away.

“Maybe it’ll help you, too.” Freddie continued quietly. “We could try it, at least.”

Roger hummed, already being lulled to sleep again. Freddie chuckled softly and kissed his temple. One of the cats decided the birds weren’t as interesting as them and climbed over their lap to settle down between them, gently digging their claws into Roger’s stomach. He flinched slightly but made himself lay still, not wanting to upset them. A quick look downwards revealed that it was Oskar who decided to join their little cuddle pile and he let one hand fall down to rest it on his side, a smile spreading on his face when he started purring.

“I’ll try it.”

“Let me get up, then, I’ll start it right up. What color and scent of bath bomb do you want?”

He let out an unhappy sound when Freddie started to move away but let him, taking the replacement pillow. It was soft and fluffy which was fine but it wasn’t Freddie. He could live with it for now, though. Tiffany and Delilah also saw the newfound space as the perfect spot for their nap and Roger would never complain about that.

“I don’t care, surprise me.”

“I’m thinking chamomile. For your head. I should have a nice pink one for that. Or was it yellow? I’ll look. You take another nap.”

Roger nodded, not even bothering to keep his eyes open. He didn’t even hear Freddie leave the room before falling asleep again.

Soft shaking woke him and he made a soft groaning sound but opened his eyes to find Freddie standing over him.

“Bath’s ready, darling.”

He was still groggy but he got up anyway. A hot bath didn’t sound bad if he was being honest. Freddie loved them and Roger had drawn him a nice bath many times but never actually joined him for one yet. It just didn’t appeal to him. He liked his showers and when Freddie joined him for those it was always a lot of fun.

The bathroom was warm and Roger didn’t hesitate undressing, letting Freddie fold the clothes and put them on top of their washing machine for safe keeping. Then, Freddie got in, settling back against the edge and let Roger get in between his legs, his back resting against his chest. As soon as he touched the water, he let out a loud, relieved groan, ignoring Freddie’s chuckle at his reaction. His arm settled around his waist and kissed the back of his neck. Roger sighed, his head falling back on Freddie’s shoulder. There was a lot less bubbles than he had expected from Freddie but he figured that this was his bath and his boyfriend knew he didn’t need the tub overflowing with bubbles like he did.

“Do you want to drop the bath bomb in?” Freddie asked, holding up a pink bath bomb for him to see.

Roger only shook his head, eyes falling closed. He heard the fizz when Freddie did put it in the water and he smelled the chamomile he had been talking about earlier. It was nice, he had to admit. His headache was still there but the sleeping had already helped a little bit at least.

At one point, Freddie started humming again, singing bits of pieces of songs and sometimes, Roger joined in, a faint smile on his lips.

“This is nice.”

“Yeah, it is.” Freddie agreed.

He gently scratched over Roger’s stomach, causing him to make a sound between a giggle and a whine and squirm backwards against him. Freddie made an interested sound at that and he could feel his dick stirring against his lower back.

“Want to make this even nicer?”

Freddie had leaned forward, whispering seductively into his ear. It send down shivers down his spine and he moved back against him, his own dick taking an interesting into the whole thing. He swallowed hard, turning his head far enough to be able to press kisses to Freddie’s neck.

“I’m not sure I’m up for a lot, Fred.” He admitted, even if he really wanted to get into the mood.

Due to their work schedules, they didn’t manage to spend a lot of time together and sex hadn’t been a topic for at least the past three weeks which was a very long time for them. They usually barely went a couple of days without sleeping with each other.

“That’s fine. We don’t have to do anything.”

Roger wanted to, though. He really did. This was the closest he had gotten to action in weeks if he didn’t count jerking off in the shower. He made an unhappy sound and spread his legs a little bit further.

“I want to but I don’t know if I can.”

Freddie’s hand slid lower, coming to rest on his upper thigh. His other hand turned his head so he could look him into the eyes.

“How about we just do something nice and slow? I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. What do you have in mind?”

He smiled and stole a kiss. It was deep and passionate but slow at the same time and it made Roger’s head spin with want. He had missed this so much. Eagerly, he shifted closer, angled his head a bit further to the side, making it easier for the both of them and wrapped both arms around his neck. Freddie groaned into the kiss.

Roger changed position so he was straddling Freddie. They kissed again, Roger cupping his face with one hand, the other tangling into the dark strands. Freddie let his hands roam over his chest, flicked over his nipples. Roger jolted, his breath hitching. His hands slid lower then, squeezing his ass before he pressed a finger against his entrance.

Freddie fingered him slowly, taking his time to work him open. Roger pressed his face against his shoulder, his breathing growing ragged and moaning whenever he brushed his prostate. He was rocking up against him, trying to get some friction. The water was sloshing over the edge of the tub but neither of them cared.

“Feels good?” Freddie whispered, voice growing husky.

Roger nodded, his next thrust had him gasping. His fingers were probably leaving marks on Freddie’s shoulders but he wasn’t complaining yet so he didn’t stop.

“Gonna make you feel even better soon.” He kissed his temple and twisted his fingers deeper. “You can fully relax, darling, nothing to worry your pretty head about.”

Freddie pushed in a third finger and Roger shuddered against him, pushing his hips back. He whined. He wasn’t desperate to come like usual, instead it felt like a low burning heat rising slowly. It made him feel dizzy and light-headed in the best way. Usually, their sex was passionate, hot and bordering on rough and both liked it that way but sometimes, they ended up like this; languid and tender, taking their time with each other.

“Be good for me, yeah?”

Roger almost whined again when Freddie pulled his fingers out but managed to bite it back. His hands grabbed his hips and moved him further up, positioning him above his dick. He frowned.

“Fred, I don’t think-”

“Shh, love, I know what I’m doing.”

He sighed but let him lift his face up far enough to kiss, their tongues sliding against each other while Freddie pulled him down slowly. Roger groaned at the stretch, breaking away from the kiss to let his head fall back. Immediately, Freddie latched onto his throat to suck a dark mark into his skin. Once he was fully seated in Freddie’s lap, he captured him into another kiss, sucking his lower lip into his mouth.

“And now?”

“And now we just stay like this for a while. Are you comfortable?”

Experimentally, Roger shifted, clenching around Freddie and hummed thoughtfully. Freddie was hot and thick inside of him, stretching him deliciously.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good.” Freddie pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I want you to relax. Once we’re done with the bath, I’ll fuck you afterwards.”

Roger hummed, gently nudging him with his nose until he kissed him properly.

“Can I turn on the radio or will it upset your head?”

“You can turn it on but keep the volume low, please.”

He felt Freddie move, then soft music filled the room. Letting out a content sigh, he melted further against Freddie who started rubbing up and down his back, his fingers traveling along his spine. Sometimes, he pressed kisses to his hair or forehead. Occasionally, Freddie would shift and his dick would brush against his prostate and make him twitch but otherwise it was very relaxing.

One song faded into another but Roger barely realized it, being lulled into a half-sleep by the combination of Freddie’s touch, his humming, the warmth and smell of the bath and the feeling of being full.

After a while- he didn’t know how long it was- Freddie gently nudged him.

“Wake up darling, the water’s getting cold.”

Roger grumbled but got up, whining unhappily because it meant Freddie had to pull out. He gladly took the towel that was given to it. It was warm, too, because he had put them over their heater. Neither of them bothered to get dressed and stumbled back into the bedroom while kissing, their hands roaming the other’s familiar body.

He fell backwards onto the bed, spreading his legs to let Freddie crawl in between them. He peppered kisses all the way up his thighs, nipping at his hip bone as he passed it and dipped his tongue into his navel. Roger jumped at that, both breaking into giggles. He wrapped his legs around his waist, pulling him closer and coaxed him into a kiss.

Freddie easily sunk back into him, setting a slow but deep rhythm that left Roger gasping against his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut, squeezed his thighs around him and let out a happy moan. Freddie pressed a sloppy kiss against his cheek before brushing a strand of hair out his face, then cupped his face.

His eyes were dark and full of adoration and Roger smiled, feeling his heart swell in his chest. The next thrust hit his prostate and he tossed his head back with a low moan. Freddie's finger slid down to his mouth and he eagerly opened it, sucking them inside while he busied himself with marking his neck and shoulders, gently biting at his collarbone.

“I love you.” He whispered against his skin, his breath hot and ragged.

Roger made a sound around his fingers, trying to get the same sentiment across- succeeding in doing so if he had to interpret the soft look on Freddie's face- and let his eyes fall closed when he licked over his nipple, nibbling at the sensitive nub.

He pulled his fingers out of his mouth, leaving a trail of spit as he moved it lower until he could wrap it around Roger's dick, pumping it lazily. Roger groaned, one hand tangling into Freddie's hair, the other one reaching for the bed's headboard.

“Love you.” He gasped, feeling the need to actually say it, too, and Freddie's face lit up like every time he says it.

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

“Only when you come first.” Roger said, shaking his head slightly. “Want to feel you.”

Freddie leaned up again, kissing the corner of his mouth and adjusted his grip to him a little bit, changing the angle ever so slightly but it was enough to make Roger moan loudly.

“Everything for you, darling.”

Now almost every thrust hit his prostate and Roger couldn't get out much more than gasped pleads, curses and Freddie's name which caused his boyfriend to grin, obviously very happy with himself. He gently brushed his fingers over his lips, feeling him smile against them and couldn't help but smile himself.

It didn't take long until Freddie lost his rhythm, chasing his own release as he grabbed Roger's thigh to hike it up higher. He keened at that, voice growing high-pitched and both knew neither could go on for much longer. Freddie's hand on his dick grew faster, his thumb brushing over his head with just the right amount of pressure to make him rock up into his fist but not enough to make him come just yet and Roger whined at that.

“Fred- Fred, ah, please! Fuck, c'mon, give it to me.

Freddie groaned, hips stuttering into him and all it took was a hard tug on his hair and he came with a growl, stilling inside him. Roger moaned happily when he collapsed on top of him. It was for a moment, though, then Freddie pulled out completely and slid down his body to take him into his mouth.

It was hot and wet and Roger's thighs twitched at the sudden feeling of Freddie swallowing around him, his tongue pressing up against his dick. His hips jolted upwards and Freddie eagerly took him down his throat, grabbing his ass to push him even deeper. He blinked up at him through his lashes and Roger whined at the pleasure he could see on his face and the obscene view of his lips stretched around his cock.

“Fuck.” He whispered and Freddie hummed, sending shivers up his spine.

His fingers found the sensitive spot behind his balls and Roger came with a choked moan, back arching as he spilled into Freddie's mouth who easily swallowed everything. He collapsed bonelessly into the mattress, only whining quietly when Freddie pulled of with a lewd, wet sound.

He made grabby-hands at him, then, pulling him back on top of him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders to keep him in place.

“We should clean up.” Freddie said but made no attempts to move, only pressed a kiss to his nose before snuggling up further against him.

Roger hummed absently.

“And drain the bathtub. Put the towels into the hamper. Oh, and turn off the radio and put the dirty mugs away.”

Roger sighed, nodding to everything Freddie said despite not really listening what he was actually saying.

“Nap first.”

Freddie chuckled softly, his thumb drawing circles into the skin

“Okay, after a nap. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes, very much so. Thank you.”

Roger knew they should get cleaned up but he was comfortable, Freddie was warm and heavy on top of him. They shifted slightly so they were in a better position for a nap. Freddie ended up still lying mostly on top on him and Roger wrapped and arm around his shoulders.

He let out a content sigh and kissed Freddie’s shoulder absently, letting his eyes fall shut and drifted away into a deep slumber.

#froger #smut #froger week 2019

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paullicino · 5 years ago

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Hindsight is 2020

Just one of many posts taken from and funded by my Patreon.

This is a piece of writing about some things that I do know and some things that I do not know. It also is a piece of writing about another piece of writing which no longer exists, a sort of obituary for a document. It is also a confession.

I wonder where it is that good drafts go to die. Those half-finished pieces of work that are simultaneously salvageable and yet also surplus. There are times when words come easy and, if a writer isn’t careful, those words grow like a jungle, sprouting energetically in every direction until they destroy the view, ruin the perspective and reduce those caught amongst them to a sweaty, flustered mess.

I don’t want you to wade into my work to find yourself a sweaty, flustered mess. Otherwise, I’d be in the sauna business.

I throw things out. That’s good. Not everything we make or do will be up to our standards and it’s a wise idea to aggressively cull that which doesn’t work. It’s brutal, sure, but the fact is every writer you know is regularly hurling paragraphs down a secret trapdoor in their home, which they occasionally flip open empty their machine gun into. You have to kill your darlings.

And it's a luxury to be able to murder your mistakes.

But sometimes there’s one that you rescue. There’s one that comes back. There’s one that is pulled from the brink, thrown on the gurney and shocked back into being. "It’s alive," the writer screams, as it twitches once again. Watch it stagger out into the world, walking as if for the first time. Look at its cute little hyphens.

This piece of writing is one of those. It began, more than a month ago, as an attempt to reflect on December. It started like this:

“It’s difficult for me to write about December without also writing some kind of a retrospective for an entire decade. This month has been a hugely reflective one for me and it’s been impossible not to get swept up in the general trend of looking back and taking stock, something that I initially resisted but which has become a positive, enriching exercise. The past has been on my mind in part because it’s infinitely more concrete than the present or the future. It’s so much easier to hold on to. Hopefully it will also be something solid to leap forward from.”

I hope that you feel this way. That your past is something to leap forward from.

I wonder, too, where it is that good drafts are born. I’m not quite sure exactly how much control I have over what I write and I don’t know where the words come from. I know that I don’t wait for inspiration. I chase it. I chase it and I’m armed. It’s not a pretty sight and I’m neither glamorous nor gainly in my pursuit. Sometimes I catch it in lofty places, at the shining peak of a million-year-old mountain. Other times I pull it from a dumpster at three in the morning, scraping off the gunk. But I never understand quite how this catching happens and what the process is that follows. I seem to mostly just stumble into accidents. Just after writing that paragraph that I showed you above, everything went kind of off the rails. It all veered sideways. I wrote this:

“The 2010s were a period of almost constant change and now I’m looking at the possibility of a far more settled future. That feels very unusual indeed. I can’t get my head around it. Even before I gained residency here, my life in Canada offered me so much more stability than anything in a long time and I’m not sure quite what to do with that. While there might be some things I have to worry about going into 2020, there are so many others that have melted away into the past.”

And as I tried to find a way to document and describe some of the transience of that last decade, I began pouring over maps. I'm a very visual thinker and I find that sights and spaces spark my imagination, but the task got away from me very quickly, transforming from something that I was doing to something that was happening. I tried to find something in north London and, by chance, Google Maps dropped me right by a bus stop I could easily have been waiting at ten years ago today, way up Holloway Road and close to an ex-partner’s place.

I don’t know what the logic or whimsy is behind this behaviour, but sometimes Google Maps shows you a place as it looks in summer or in winter, right now or three years past. There’s usually a slider you can drag which pulls you through time and, as I wasn't looking at the Holloway Road of today, I went to try to pull myself back into the present. But it was then that I found I could also jump back almost exactly a decade and see how things looked on any of so many winter mornings or afternoons, as I stood waiting to travel home or to work. With one click, I could hurl myself back almost exactly a decade.

I can’t tell you how powerful that single click was. It demolished a nearby building, it switched out all the road signs, it reopened the old café. It summoned a bold, red 43 bus which loomed nearby and who’s driver would have no patience if I wasn’t about to climb on. I hated that damn bus. The 271, too. They lurched and retched their way north and south, never on a reliable schedule. There was no way of knowing when the next one would come. I’d better get on board.

But I didn’t. I turned on my heel and retraced my steps, winding and squirming my way down routes that weren't just streets I hadn't seen for a decade or more, but often streets that no longer looked this way. Estates have been built, businesses have moved, and while one thing in London can look the same after a hundred and fifty years, whatever sits next to it might change three times in a decade.

I wonder what Google will do when routes themselves change. When they have not only old images, but old layouts that no longer correspond to streets and paths and places that exist. I wonder if we'll still be able to walk through them. I wonder where they’ll go.

It wasn’t difficult to retrace my steps all around each of my old London neighbourhoods, recreating journeys I'd taken countless times. I walked streets just as they looked at the time, took the same shortcuts, remarked at the same details I would've noticed at the time. There was one neighbour's stroller outside their house. There was the same front door, faded before they repainted it. I roamed and I roamed until I found myself looking straight at the face of a building I might easily have been inside at the very same moment that imagery was taken. Like any other, its windows were black holes, its walls were blank, its doorway was featureless. Yet some past version of me could be just beyond. Right then. Right now.

What am I doing in there, I asked myself, and what am I doing in any of these other places I now revisit? The people there aren’t ghosts or memories, they’re living their lives at this moment while this phantom from the future glides back toward them, unable to reach out or to communicate or to leave even the tiniest trace. I could circle these places and their people infinitely. It had never before occurred to me to try to visit the past in this way.

And then I wondered this: If I could step inside, if I could pass through those black windows and blank walls to meet the me of a decade ago, and if I could speak to him, what would I say?

I know the answer.

“Stop being so stupid,” probably.

And also “Keep going and get ready to do an awful lot of things.”

It occurs to me now, as I write this, that the me of a decade ago had a lot going on. He had a lot to juggle. He was sometimes having a much tougher time than the lazy literary bum who types out these words with one foot on the floor and one foot hanging on the sofa. I don't know if he'd appreciate the perspective of someone like me. "Stop being so stupid," he might say. And also: "I hope you've kept going and that you're still trying to do an awful lot of things." The younger me never wanted to waste opportunity.

Other things I wrote in my abandoned draft included this paragraph:

“I’m really bad at relaxing. Really bad. There is always something to be done or something that *can* be done. Most of the last decade I’ve lived paycheck to paycheck, earning enough to get by but rarely to save. I think this has created a constant sense of urgency and an ever-present feeling that I should be doing something. I also think I wasted too much of my teenage years or early twenties and should’ve achieved much more, much sooner. I should be making up for lost time.”

I think now that the me of 2010 would agree we have to find some way to go back further, to the me of 2000, and kick this person into shape. I think we would say "Stop being so stupid," and, particularly "Oh my GOD be more grateful toward your friends, your family and the people you date," which would help us pretend that we don't still need to listen to that advice ourselves. But we do. I know this.

Through most of my life I've watched a British science fiction show called Doctor Who, which tells the story of an eccentric alien who travels through time, going on adventures and solving mysteries. In the course of those travels, the Doctor sometimes meets a past version of themselves and inevitably clashes with them, ending up somewhere between baffled and irritated. But that bit sure doesn't sound like science fiction to me.

I first watched Doctor Who when I was very, very young, at just about the same time when several British organisations worked together on a famous educational undertaking called the Domesday Project, a digital documentation of Britain that existed on collections of enormous laserdiscs, fed into the school computers of the time. They showed you pictures and videos of places all over the nation, letting you take virtual tours around cities or wander in the countryside. My strongest memory of it was of a friend and I getting lost in a field after walking through the most painfully generic and nondescript landscape. We couldn't get out because everything looked the same. To the adult me writing this now, that feels like an apt metaphor for how I felt about much of England, a country I found stagnant and sterile.

The technology used to create the Domesday Project was soon out of date. The media it was stored on was soon out of date. Its images of a country that clearly wasn't always stagnant and sterile were soon out of date. Where is it all now? I don't know. I do know that this makes it very obvious Britain did change, even if to me it didn't, and I can't deny that.

Now come all the coincidences. They start with one more paragraph that I wrote, but then discarded. It is the hardest one to share. It is the confession.

"I will be forty years old soon and I am embarrassed by my age. I know people older who feel so much fresher and people younger who are more capable and more mature. My life is not the way I imagined it would be at forty and I cannot reconcile the reality of who I am with the half-formed expectations that I had. There were things that I wanted to do and things that I meant to do and then an awful lot of other stuff happened along the way. I handled some of that with varying degrees of readiness, resilience and regret, while failing the rest."

I left this paragraph to gain dust and now, by coincidence, I am forty years old at this very moment. Who let this happen? This is unacceptable. Who's fault is this and who can I blame?

And in another act of ridiculous randomness, on the same day I began redrafting all this, a note almost exactly one year old and that I thought I had lost fell out of my notebook. The note pulled me back into the past with all the power of a black hole. HERE YOU ARE AGAIN, said the note, with words that deafened my ears, blinded my eyes and plugged my nose. IT IS 2019 ONCE MORE. I couldn't see or hear or smell anything except for the past, but this time I was armed with all the tools of perspective and perspicacity. I was better equipped to understand everything while also able to change nothing.

I flailed at the past with all the effectiveness of the phantom I had become.

In the third moment of curious concordance, just a few days ago I found myself walking past the first place I lived in Vancouver. It was late. It was cold. I could've decided to head straight home. The night bus was about to come. I’d better get on board.

But I didn’t. I turned on my heel and retraced my steps, winding and squirming my way down routes that weren't just streets I hadn't walked in years, but also streets that no longer looked quite the same. New houses had been built, businesses had moved. This wasn't unusual. While one or two things in Vancouver still look the same after a hundred and fifty years, it's a shockingly young city to a person like me and it regularly rebuilds so much.

It wasn’t difficult to retrace my steps all around my old neighbourhood, recreating journeys I'd taken countless times. I walked streets just as they looked at the time, took the same shortcuts, remarked at the same details I would've noticed at the time. There was one neighbour's bike left on their balcony. There was the same front door, furnished with a new intercom. I roamed and I roamed until I found myself looking straight at the same first apartment I'd rented. Like any other, its windows were black holes, its walls were blank, its doorway was featureless. Someone else lived there now, but someone else had also lived there in the past.

Everything that night was both so familiar and yet also so forgotten. So much had fallen out of my memory so soon and I rushed to gather it all once more. It was then that I realised what true nostalgia really is: It isn't just revisiting the past, it's rediscovering it. It's finding the things that surprise us again even after they've already happened. I know this now.

It brings a very particular kind of feeling. A kind of joy. A kind of reminder. A kind of reinforcement. And I think that's important.

I think it's important to be that phantom from the future, gliding occasionally through the past, because we can forever rediscover and reevaluate that which has already happened. I'm not sure there are many pasts more important than our own and it serves us well to reappraise them sometimes. History is an open book, not a closed one, one which academics continue to re-write, and our lives are the same.

The eternal lesson has always been not to dwell on the past, not to fixate on what has already happened and not to be dominated by what cannot be undone. I don't disagree and I think it's essential that I tell the present version of myself things like “Stop being so stupid,” and also “Keep going and get ready to do an awful lot of things,” and also "Keep chasing inspiration and make sure that you're armed" and a lot more personal, private and emphatic maxims. But it's vital to me to look back from the fresh perspectives I constantly give myself. Our past does not disappear; it is not a draft that we can throw away. It instead forms the ever-growing foundations of what we are and, whether those bricks are made from hope or anger or pride or guilt, we must at times acknowledge them all.

I know this: As we inspect it, we see where it is solid, where it best serves us. That is how it becomes the foundation that we leap forward from.

#Patreon #Domesday Project #Vancouver #the past #Doctor Who

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acetokens · 5 years ago

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All hail Doom! My thoughts on the new story mode in MUA3

‘The Shadow of Doom’ released recently for MUA3, and I’ve had so much fun playing it I haven’t had time to talk about the expansion until now! I was gonna make a ‘first impressions’ post of all the new features, but I think I’ll save my thoughts for the review. In the meantime, I want to talk about the new story content, because that’s absolutely the highlight of the expansion.

Spoilers ahead!

The Shadow of Doom is an epilogue to the storyline of MUA3, unlocked after you clear story mode for the first time. It begins with the heroes discussing how they’ve hidden the Infinity Stones across the galaxy in places where no one will find them, only for a villain to immediately find one. Wakanda is under siege yet again, so the heroes make their way to the necropolis to find Dr Doom stealing the Soul Stone. They defeat him, but the plot disagrees and Doom banishes the heroes to the Negative Zone. Luckily, they encounter the Fantastic Four there, who reveal they’ve been chasing Doom across dimensions to stop him from collecting the remains of a fallen Celestial (which explains why none of them have been in a video game since 2009). The heroes escape the Negative Zone by beating up its ruler, Annihilus, and stealing his cosmic control rod to power a giant portal, transporting them to Doom’s kingdom of Latveria. The alliance storms Castle Doomstadt and discovers the metal-masked monarch has already found all the pieces of the Celestial. Using the Soul Stone and the souls of his own citizens, Doom revives the Celestial! Although that doesn’t last long as the heroes dismantle it with some missiles and funky rocks. Doom isn’t finished quite yet and absorbs the Soul Stone’s power, but he too is eventually defeated. The epilogue concludes with Doom joining the alliance to combat an unknown threat from across the universe, setting up for a possible sequel or another expansion pass.

Apparently you can befriend anyone if you punch them enough. Note taken!

Overall, the epilogue is just as goofy and contrived as the game’s original story mode, but I loved every second of it (well, almost every second. But we’ll get into that later)! Aside from re-using part of the Wakanda level at the beginning, everything else in the epilogue is completely original, including two new locations, three new bosses, two new enemy types and a host of new cutscenes, dialogue and music to enjoy. It brought me back to when I first played MUA3 and I didn’t know who or what was going to appear next. Only a handful of characters get speaking roles, but everyone in the alliance appears at least once, and the game even makes an effort to tie in the DLC characters from the previous two expansions, explaining why they were absent from the original story. It’s a flimsy excuse (something to do with getting trapped in an alternate reality), but a neat touch. The epilogue takes around two hours to complete, so it’s a decent length of time, and the Fantastic Four takes center stage throughout most of it. I think their fans will really enjoy how the characters are portrayed here (a lot more than in the movies, that’s for sure). I especially enjoyed Doom’s lines, you can tell the voice actor had a ton of fun in that role.

On Mighty difficulty, the epilogue starts at Level 50, roughly the level your team will be after clearing story mode once. After beating the epilogue, you can challenge it again on Superior, where the difficulty ramps up considerably to Level 110, and if you beat that you can challenge the epilogue a third time, where it starts at Level 200. Enemies in the epilogue include Doombots (that launch missiles and endlessly spawn from teleportals until the machines are destroyed), Insectoids (huge bugs that feed on nearby nectar to heal themselves) and the dreaded Celestial. This is easily the most frustrating part of the epilogue. The boss battle itself is fine, once you work out that throwing the anti-matter that spawns from defeating Insectoids will reverse the Celestial’s healing so it hurts itself instead. But as the golden giant begins rebuilding itself, you’re faced with not one, not two, but three stages with more ‘bullet hell’ than a Touhou game. One incorrectly timed dodge and you can be juggled all the way back to the start by a barrage of explosions and paralyze-inducing lightning strikes. Unless you’re playing a character who can teleport, like Nightcrawler, or one who can shield themselves whilst moving forward, like Colossus, these parts are extremely frustrating. Aside from that though, the epilogue is challenging in a very enjoyable way, especially the boss battles.

Normally, I would end the post here. But there’s one last secret in the epilogue that I just have to talk about! When you beat it, the game shows an ominous clip of Thanos wielding the Infinity Gauntlet, claiming ‘’I will be waiting here, for you’’. If you check the Hero Select screen afterwards, you’ll see an empty slot on the top left.

There’s a secret unlockable character to discover!

Don’t get your hopes up too high, however. The secret character is Thanos. That might sound confusing, considering Thanos is already playable, but it’s true. You can unlock a second Thanos by beating the epilogue on Ultimate difficulty, this one wielding the Infinity Gauntlet.

And yes, you can have both on the same team. Its just as dumb as it sounds.

What the bloody hell am I even looking at here.

Thanos Infinite may look identical to his bare handed counterpart, but his attacks are all unique. In fact, he’s the strongest character in the entire game, hands down. Thanos Infinite boasts extremely high stats, immunity to all status effects, as well as being one of the few characters in the game who can teleport. Thanos Infinite’s abilities are similarly very powerful, combining the Infinity Stones for a number of devastating attacks, which can be charged up to make them even stronger! Such as freezing enemies in place with the Space Stone, absorbing their HP and EP with the Soul Stone or tripling his attacks by cloning himself with the Reality Stone. Even the Mad Titan’s basic attacks are obnoxiously strong. The fact he joins your team at Level 230 helps too.

Despite wanting to ‘restore balance’ to the universe, Thanos Infinite is hilariously overpowered.

That being said, Thanos Infinite does have some drawbacks. Since he’s holding the Infinity Stones, he can’t equip items, and he can’t perform Synergies either. But overall, he’s so good that playing as him almost feels like cheating. They definitely did the Mad Titan justice with this version of him. Despite how strong Thanos Infinite is, I did feel a little disappointed when I unlocked him, because I was expecting a brand new character. But I appreciate that the devs included a secret character at all, and as a reward for beating the epilogue on Ultimate difficulty, its certainly a lot better than a costume recolour.

I tried not to ramble too much in this post but it looks like I did it anyway, judging by the word count. Whoops. But I loved the story content in this expansion so much, I just had to talk about it for a while! I’ll end the post here, but I’m not done with this expansion just yet! There’s a lot more in the Shadow of Doom to explore, and we’ve barely scratched the surface!

#MUA3 shitposting #Now I've finished the new story mode I'm slowly (very slowly) making my way through the new Events #They're tied to story mode this time around so its pretty different to playing Danger Room matches.

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gold-from-straw · 5 years ago

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Frozen Heart - ch8

The boys investigate magic!

Read from the beginning on Ao3 if you prefer!

The machine was a hit. It took them a while to get some of the bugs written out of it, and there were some frustrating days where it burnt out in the same damn place three times in a row, but Loki was the one to figure out where two logic gates directly contradicted each other, and within hours they were back in the game.

They took some baseline readings with Tony messing about in the imaging area, doing some different things like reading or a rubik’s cube, and trying to juggle. They were both surprised when the results came out. They’d been expecting nothing beyond the usual image of Tony doing his thing, but it seemed like magic, as described by Loki, was present in everyday human things too.

The arc reactor seemed to appear as a black patch, not appearing on any images at all, just blanked out, which was fascinating in itself. But Tony had always known there was something special about it. What was really incredible was the regular stuff. In the footage of Tony reading, faint swirls of gold curled around his forehead and eyes, and around the book itself too.

“Incredible,” murmured Loki. “You say this is just a story, not a grimoire?”

“It’s just… it’s Anansi Boys, it’s not even like… oh my god, imagine what the Lord of the Rings would look like! I wonder if it would look different if it was a book that didn’t have any magic in it at all, if it’d produce as much magic? Hah!” he turned to Loki, bubbling with glee. “We’ve just proven what every book lover already knows, that books are magic. Stories are freaking magic! Not even the old ones, that’s a brand new copy! My last one fell apart.”

Loki looked at the screen in wonder, his red eyes gleaming like rubies in the harsh light, and Tony had to press the adoration down. He knew how much Loki loved books, this was just… for people like Loki and Pepper, who had found their sanctuary in worlds of paper and ink as children, this was something beyond what Tony could ever have predicted.

Loki clicked onto the next video file, a smile still curling his lip, and Tony cleared his throat and turned back to the screen.

There was magic in a human brain, it seemed. There was magic in what humans created, and so much more magic in the bots than Tony had been prepared to admit he’d been hoping for. He covered his mouth when U wheeled on to hand Tony a dropped juggling ball, a sparking, diffuse golden glow around every movement.

Loki smiled at him. “I did ask, did I not, whether you made your companion of magic?”

Tony nodded and looked down at the keyboard, trying to keep his emotions in check and not let the ache in the back of his throat humiliate him. Loki’s hand tentatively brushed his back between his shoulder blades, and he fought the urge to turn into him, press his face into Loki’s chest and cry, because his bots were magic.

He sniffed. “Uh, OK, it’s your turn now, Tim the Enchanter. Hop in there and let’s have a look at your magic, huh?”

Loki took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. He walked stiffly to the centre of the imaging area, and they began.

Loki tried every spell he could think of, verbally, eyes shut, meditating first, with both hands outstretched, but nothing worked. Tony watched the footage on the screen, biting his lip, but beyond the same swirling that surrounded Tony when he was reading or juggling or concentrating in some way, there was nothing sparking up.

“This is ridiculous,” Loki snarled clenching his hands. “It is this form, I have nothing when I am like this. My magic is gone.”

“Hey, look, no, don’t give up. I bet we can find something--”

“Stark, enough!” he snapped, and flung out his hand in a sharp gesture. Ice flew from his palm, shattering on the desk behind which Tony had dropped.

“Woah,” Tony said, sitting up.

“Tony, I am so sorry,” Loki said, covering his face in abject horror. “I cannot, oh, Norns,I didn’t mean to… I would never--”

“Holy shit, Lokes, look at this!” Tony said, breaking through Loki’s stammered apologies. Because on the screen the footage of Loki firing ice across the room was looping, and it was glorious. “Slow it down, JARV,” Tony said as Loki came to stand behind him, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

The golden light started at the base of Loki’s back, geometric frost patterns and hexagons and snowflake shapes fluttering out from his sacrum. As they rose to his shoulder and along his arm they burst from his skin, like a flurry of snow, a blizzard around his hand, and then a bright explosion of fractals curling away from his outstretched hand, sparkling off the ice flakes, painting themselves along the desk and glowing there for a second longer even as the shards of ice fell to the floor.

“Woah,” breathed Tony. “That was…” He turned to look at Loki, who was staring at the looping clip, his mouth open. “Wow.”

Loki shook himself, blinking hard. “I know what to do,” he said softly. He walked back to the centre of the imaging area and held out his hand. “I know what to do,” he repeated, his voice stronger, gleeful. “My magic is visual. I have to imagine it, and I do so by thinking of…” he hesitated and glanced up at Tony, embarrassed for some reason that Tony couldn’t work out. “Uh, of lightning. Running along my hands and doing my bidding. But now…” He took a deep breath and glanced back towards the looping video, then held out his hand. Tony scrambled to start a new recording, just in time to see the glowing magic start at the base of Loki’s spine, then travel upwards and into his hand, forming a blue, glittering light.

Loki let out a sharp breath, like he’d been punched, and laughed. “It worked! It is no longer green, as it always was, but it works!”

Tony raced out to see it, reaching out to touch the ball of pure energy held in Loki’s hand. “It’s beautiful,” he said.

The light stuttered and disappeared, and Tony looked up, disappointed. Loki turned, his shoulders hunched, and walked over to check the footage. “I shall have to practice,” he said, his voice strained, and Tony bit his lip. What had he fucked up this time? “It was hard to hold onto the magelight,” Loki continued. “It may be that I shall have to practice each of my spells with the new visualisation before they are back to where they should be.”

“And then maybe you can break your curse,” said Tony, but it only made him frown. Because once Loki broke the spell on himself, he would be leaving, going back to his own home. Of course.

Tagging those who interacted with the last chapter! <3 @livevilokikol, @aformingsiren, @workingai, @clxngykids, @iloveu3ooo, @bvb-outcast, @bblgumbby, @alecfine, @senpaiweird thank you!! I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your comment but it made my day!! @saturnjuice, @victoriagreenleaf, @theallpowerfulone, @bluestar1937

#My writing #Frozen Heart #frozen AU #frostiron #tony stark #loki #loki/tony #fluff #mutual pining #jotun loki #science bros

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dairy-skz-blog · 6 years ago

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skz as high school students

lmao i didn’t double check this ooPS

chan

the senior that seems like he has everything under control

he doesn’t

feels bad for his underclassmen so he offers to tutor them

“oh yeah! I’m free then!!”

isn’t free

probably juggles school, having a job, homework, and music at the same time

he doesn’t sleep

always listening to music in the hallways

someone asked what he was listening to once, and he turned to look at them with dead eyes and said “nothing”

has taken a million ap tests

always has extra pencils ?? how does he have so many ?? where does he kEEP THEM

“hey chan did you do the homework?”

“oh yeah I did it last night”

lets people copy the homework

woojin

another stressed senior

there’s a rumor that once he passed out in the library after studying, woke up the next day and went to class

always has food on him

like--- always. his backpack isn’t even that big

sleeps in every class but has the best grades

the teacher called on him to answer a question so he went to the white board and answered it correctly

he was sleep walking

every other day he’s on a field trip because teachers love him

every underclassmen is scared of him at first

but then he smiles and offers them food and they kinda fall in love

“oh yeah, I can get you on the field trip”

became friends with the cafeteria workers and gets better food than everyone else

already has 10290129 college acceptances

nobody knows where he’s going

minho

a senior

has average grades and uses his free time wisely

as in-- he knows everyone’s secrets

“mrs. kim I know what you did with mr. lee in the classroom two years ago. raise everyone’s grade to a B. - Lee Know”

everyone had a B at the end of the semester

blackmailed the principal into giving him a key that unlocks every room

the janitor found him in a random closet once and thought he was dead

he passed out in the closet after drinking 3 red bull’s trying to pull an all nighter

a random junior accidentally found out he was THE “Lee Know” and promised to carry out his legacy

minho could care less

somehow still a teacher pet

“psst minho, can I copy your answers?”

gives them the wrong answers

overall everyone loves him but is terrified of him

changbin

the last senior

has rumors of him single handedly beating up a gang

he cried once when he got a paper cut

ready to graduate

had really bad grades but then brought them up at the end of high school

teachers either love him or hate him

mumbles profanities under his breath when he gets a question wrong

“Seo Changbin, what did you just say?”

“nothing mrs. kim”

looks into the security camera like he’s on the office

a kid jokingly asked changbin to rap battle with him

the kid transferred schools after changbin clearly beat him at rapping

very protective of his underclassmen friends

“I’ll beat them up for you”

“but.. you’re like two feet tall”

the underclassmen had a bruise on his arm for weeks

hyunjin

resident junior

everyone has had a crush on him at least once

jokingly danced in the hallway once and now the dance teacher won’t stop asking him to join the team

had a bruise on his arm for a long time and nobody knows where it came from

it was changbin

he spaces out all the time

if he spaces out staring at someone,,, their blush lasts the whole day

has missed almost every day at school but has a 4.0

“my hair is so bad today fuck”

everyone stares at him like he’s crazy

owns the vending machine

started a group chat to send homework answers

someone once found him and woojin asleep in the library leaning on each other

probably cried when the seniors graduated

jisung

1/2 of the juniors everyone knows

runs a joint meme account

edits low quality memes of their teachers and posts it

the school board has no idea who is doing it

probably failed at least one class

edits his memes in credit recovery though

his teachers have a love hate relationship with him

thinks he’s going to carry on the “Lee Know” legacy

“okay but what if I make it “Han Know” what do you thin-”

“no jisung”

there’s a video of him punching a trash can when he walked into it

snuck his phone into an exam and didn’t get caught

when he’s stressed his meme page followers can tell

“pleASE GO TO SLEEP IM BEGGING YOU”

felix

1/2 of the juniors everyone knows

acts like he’s bad at korean

to get easier work

“what the fuck is a cheenGOo”

passed all his classes but joined credit recovery to help jisung edit memes

second owner of the joint meme account

afraid the scary short senior is going to beat him up

the meme account has a video of him naruto running through the halls

anonymously sends asks to Chan’s blog and asks him to rest

is willing to help tutor anyone in english

joined choir and surprised everyone by being an alto

got a solo in the choir showcase

when it was time to sing he dabbed at the end and the instructor just sighed

seungmin

junior that has basically already graduated

has all his credits

could graduate early but decides not to

sends all the answers in hyunjin’s homework group chat

ignored felix for a week after he dabbed at the choir showcase

the number one teacher’s pet

teachers he hasn’t even had love him

“oh would you like to teach the class?”

gets up and teaches the class

once convinced an underclassmen that he was harry potter

a basketball once made his nose bleed but his eyes didn’t water

the basketball players tremble when they see him in the hallway

jeongin

the sophomore all the upperclassmen love

“why do i look 12″

“because you are”

was convinced seungmin was harry potter all of his freshman year

already stressed about graduating

bullies the upperclassmen but acts sweet so they buy him dinner

manipulates classmates to give him answers by being cute

convinced his teacher she lost his assignment and got an A for it

he never turned it in

sad that all his closest friends are going to graduate before him

made them all pinky promise to come to his graduation

minho already told him he’d be the one to keep the “Lee Know” legend going.

“- signed, Intelligent Nobody, I.N.”

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