#Vibrant metropolis | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ninelieswithme · 4 months ago

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⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ⛧°。

𝙱𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ sᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ʟᴇᴏɴ ᴋᴇɴɴᴇᴅʏ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

★ ᴛᴡ = sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ, ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ sᴇx, ʙᴏᴅʏᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ.

✰ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ - ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ᴀ ʙᴀʀɪsᴛᴀ ɪɴ ʀᴀᴄᴄᴏᴏɴ ᴄɪᴛʏ, ᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ ʀᴀɪɴʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ sʜɪꜰᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ Lᴇᴏɴ!! ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴜʀɴs ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ,

✫ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ʜᴀʏʏ sᴏʀʀʏ ⵊ ᴡᴀs sᴏ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs 😭😭

✪ sᴛᴀʟᴋᴇʀ x sᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴜ - 2k ᴡᴏʀᴅ’s

✯ ᴋɪɴᴋ’s - ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍᴘɪᴇ, ʙᴏᴅʏᴡᴏʀsʜɪᴘ.

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴡᴏ, ʟɪɴᴋ ꜰᴏʀ ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ʟɪsᴛ - ʜᴇʀᴇ

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚. ༉

I swear this song played when leon saw you at the café

He had just graduated from the police academy, assigned to a precinct in a city that felt more like a labyrinth of shadows than a thriving metropolis that raccoon city was known for.

Surrounded by flickering neon lights, echoing footsteps, blinding lights of the city shining in his blue eyes.

His coat drenched, blondette hair wet and slicked back from the attack of rain.

Eyes locking to a lively cafè

A quaint little café nested between two towering buildings that seemed to loom down on it, watching the world with grim attention.

Milo’s Brew, huh cute name..

He smirked, blue eyes turning more vibrant, though only a moment

He sought refuge from the chaos of the city, his boots tapping behind him, stepping into a cozy store.

Eyes a haze, from the loneliness of the night, in a busy city.

The rain tapped softly against the café windows, the smell of coffee beans invading his senses.

Where the scent of fresh pastries were thick in the cold contrast of the city.

The homily sounds of music playing in the back, the warmth clinging to his wet form.

Treading into the café, head down, his locks sticking to his forehead.

Joining the short line of the sweet store.

Looking up lightly to the neon menu, the line slowly dwindling.

His head aching, eyes stinging, god he missed being in the academy..

He’s finally a cop but that void.. it’s still not filled..

His face soured, foot tapping, waiting for his turn to order a late night coffee..

The music like a hum to his sense, eyes growing slightly heavy, legs buckling every so often.

Head nodding back and forth.

Thoughts wandering on his obvious pay check and chores he’ll have to do when he gets home.

Groaning at the thought.

Until the back of the customer in front moved out of his dazed sight, his eyes laying on yours.

God were you glowing or was it just him.

You were stunning- No, Gorgeous.

And you’re not even in a normal outfit?!

Eyes wide open, mouth slightly parted as if he stopped breathing.

While stood behind the counter, your hands deftly maneuvering the espresso machine.

Eyes sparkling with warmth despite the gray skies outside.

He practically jumped for joy when you turned to him, placing the newly brewed coffee on the counter.

The customer smiling while you did the same..

“Lucky bastard..”

He said coldly looking at the man smile at him, feeling jealousy boil over, his eyes staring daggers into the customer.

Soon you broke conversation walking to the counter eyes beaming.

God your eyes..

So delicate.

So lively

So pretty.

If he could he would arrest you right here, have you at the station you and him only :D.

Like a cute permanent sleepover.

“What can I get started for you today?”

You chirped, voice a honeyed melody that disrupted Leon’s thoughts.

Eyes a lot more lively than usual, Leon speaking softly.

“just a black coffee, please- oh no sugar.”

“Y-Your the only sugar I need”

Leon stuttered great dumbass, just embarrassed yourself..

“Uhhhh huh!, Coming right up!”

You buzzed, stepping from the counter, expertly grinding beans and steaming milk.

Not even a smile.. wow.. no blush, he really needs to work on his pick up lines.

He sighed ears red at the tips leaving the line.

Great.. you’re fucking pathetic..

He thought sliding into one of the side booths of the café.

Hands in hair, eyes growing dull loosing their shine..

She’ll never love you, no one does..

He thought, while you prepared his drink.

The sweet atmosphere long forgotten by Leon.

Time slipped away as his mind absorbed every detail.

Your hair, the way your eyes sparkled as you interacted with those.. ungrateful customers, the carefree way you danced to the music.

“Here you go, one black coffee!”

You yelled out, placing the cup on the counter with a radiant smile.

Leon got up, head down fingers quickly brushing yours for a moment.

Leon feeling a current of electricity rush through him.

He was mesmerized.

“Thanks,”

he muttered, barely able to muster the courage to look at her.

He will be yours.

You waved him by, as he lightly smiled leaving the warm embrace of the store.

Getting bombarded by the cool breeze, the coffee warm in his hand.

Leon stood outside the shop for a moment, heart racing, clutching the coffee like it was a talisman.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to know more about her.

As twilight descended, he found himself lingering, watching through the glass as she finished her shift.

Hand only the glass, making sure to avoid your gaze every so often.

You laughed with her coworkers, her laughter resonating like music, drawing him in deeper.

God you were so pretty.

The way you clothes hugged your frame.

Or the way your breasts foddled forward when you leaned down.

Or the way he wanted you plump lips around his cock.

God he shivered, blood rushing to his face, cock throbbing.

Get yourself together

He thought turning away from you leaning his back onto the cold glass.

Finally you stepped out, Leon’s heart hammered in his chest, quickly he turned his head, your eyes making contact with the RPD embroidered on the back.

You smile kindly unaware, only hastily treading away from the cafe your heels tapping against the concrete.

Your hair swaying past your face, beanie snug on your head.

Your only aim to get to your apartment at a reasonable time.

His icy eyes locking onto the small of your back.

god so cute..

He blushed feverishly, his body involuntarily stepping towards your direction.

“M’Gotta follow you”

He said under his breath, his breath freezing into a fog.

The world around him faded as he became consumed by the desire, legs moving on their own.

Stalking you like pray.

Each night, a memorised routine.

Every time you left for your shift or returned to your cramped apartment.

He was there just a few paces behind, watching, learning more about stunning you who had captivated him so completely.

He’s been getting more brave, placing small letters with sweets, or a occasional 200 dollars

Discreetly placed in the shadows, for your eyes only.

The notes reading letters of total devolution.

Some saying “hope you like it dear!!”

More hearts than words on the letter.. but you have be been picking up on the more frequent gifts.

You had noticed the strange items but shrugged them off as a long overdue prank.

You we’re a busy women, the last thing you needed was to focus on an a anonymous admirer.

But today it was different.

After work, the bing of the elevator ringing in your ears, the old metal door screeching lightly.

Eyes in a daze seeking solace from today’s work at the café.

Heels tapping on the tiles, till your eyes meet yet again another gift.. this one was different.

A box?

You cocked an eye brow leaning down, picking up the box a letter as always strapped on it.

Different..

A quiet hum leaving you, unlocking your apartment.

Quiet taps entering the tiles of your home.

Dropping your bag, throwing the box onto the kitchen counter.

Undoing the expensive box…

Wait..

Is that..

Your eyes widen at what lied in the box.

It was a beautiful, 9 carat gold ring, with a single centre white diamond, it didn’t look like a lab one either..

You gasped dropping the small box back down to the counter, hands cupping your agape mouth.

This was to far.. a ring like this.. it had to cost a fortune..

You felt guilty, quickly closing the box.

For the whole night, you kept away from the ring.

Leaving it abandoned at your counter, rarely even touching the majestic ring.

The words “Let’s get married!!” Under the soft material holding the ring..

It finally clicked in your mind.. this wasn’t a joke..

It never was.. and you’ve been encouraging this behaviour.

You sighed leaning next to the ring, yawning.

What am I going to do with you..

You thought sighing, you know what the fuck it is.

Your going to bed

Slowly making way to your cozy room, changing mid walk, letting the dirty clothes litter the house.

Heels knocked off.

You’re too tired for this.

While you went into deep thought.

first, it was small.

A bouquet of daisies on your doorstep, a book of poetry you once mentioned to a friend.

And sweet notes with words that dripped with admiration.

To full blown marriage..

You groaned finally plummeting to your bed, eyes droopy.

Finally dozing off to a restless sleep, dreams haunted by shadows and whispers.

Maybe it was just a prank.

You reassure finally shuffling into a good position.

Heart rate dropping, eyes and body relaxing.

“Night stalker”

You lolled out..

Head plumenting into the pillow.

wait.. did you hear a chuckle.

You stirred awake, body still heavy from the lack of sleep.

But something felt different this night like morning.

You couldn’t move your legs nor your wrists..

What the?!

Eyes fluttered open quickly, taking in the dark scenery, nothing..

Wait.

You felt an aching pain between your thighs, like something was in the way??

Finally you heard it..

More like him.

You were greeted by a sight that made her heart race.

Who’s this?!

Eyes lidded still, feeling his cock twitch deep inside your tight walls..

Light whimpers were heard from Leon, hips frantically thrusting deep into you.

Tongue lolled out..

Your own accompanying his.

You tried moving feeling you still can’t move..

H-Handcuffs?

You thought tugging on them, Legs flailing, legs trying to come into your body.

A rough hand grabbing onto your thigh pushing your pussy wide open again.

His cock slamming in and out aggressively.

“Ah, ah, ah”

Leon whined thrusting more aggressively earning a whine.

Gently caressing the area he grabbed.

“Don’t be a bad girl~”

His diamond blue eyes intense with desire.

His hands were gently caressing your tied form.

As if you were the most precious treasure he had ever laid his eyes on.

His cock still thrusting deep inside your heat.

Earning a moan.

His cock even bulging out of you of you a little.

"Good morning well l-late, my princess.”

He cooed, leaning his head down to your belly button kissing you tenderly.

Leaving you very shocked yet very needy..

Blue eyes shimerinh into yours.

You heved and gasped, pussy clenching around him.

Only moaning back gently grinding your Clit on his base, quickly fucking your hole more aggressively.

If that’s what his baby wants then you’ll get it.

Arching your back slightly, offering your body to him.

Breasts, full and heavy, rose with your nimble movement, the nipples hardening in the cool nighttime air.

“M’love being all the way inside of you, baby”

He smiled still thrusting deep into your tight cunt, spilling his pre deep into your greedy thing.

You moaned, hands tangling in anything you could grab, head leaning back into the head board.

"You taste so sweet,"

He murmured against you, his breath hot on your sensitive flesh.

A slight nodding coming from you begging, Leon to ravage your cute cunt.

Like a dog on heat his thrusts growing faster till he stopped, still kissing at your skin.

His eyes lidded, blush nearly blood red.

“M’need to worship you pretty thing, gonna be carrying my babies”

He smile so smitten with you, you eyes going hazed.

As he changed plans, fucking you with slow, deliberate strokes.

Your moans filled the room, each thrust of his cock sending waves of pleasure through your aching body.

Leon showed no signs of stopping.

Feverishly kissing up and down his lips could reach.

He continued to worship your glistening pussy, his cock thrusting in and out, a few needy thrusts slipping out of him.

His fingers joined in, sliding inside you, filling you up as he kissed at your skin, thumb on your clit.

You cocked out a moan, with light pleas to how good he felt.

You cunt lubing up his cock, and fingers.

“N’gonna go feral..”

He said lightly, his blue eyes piercing yours searching for an answer.

You nodded lightly blush and drool covering your face.

Leon didn’t need anything else, reefing his fingers out of your greedy thing.

Speeding up like before, while he whined and whimpered.

“Saw ya not wearing your ring”

He said sadly, making you feel.. guilty?

I-It’s okay you’ll get used to it

He thought thrusting deeper, making your back arch.

“M’wherin mine”

He cooed Blue eyes looking at yours.

You looked, eyes squinted searching, finally seeing his larger fingers around your thigh, the ring was there.. huh..

Wait..

He’s the stalker..

Shit

B-but I locked- wait..

You sighed remembering you didn’t lock the door.

Ending up with you being dicked down by this lovesick psycho.

You could practically see his tail wagging while he plunged his cock into your heat.

“You like It don’t you??”

He asked happily going in auto pilot, fucking your fast and raw.

God you loved this, you pussy twitching around his aching length..

You nodded not giving a shit, while leon was left in la la land, fucking your pussy dry.

Cock hitting your g spot.

Pussy wrapping around him so good.

Cunt fluttering every so often.

Tip touching your cervix.

You felt your walls tighten around Leon,

“G-Gonna- ahh~ cum p-pretty thing”

He moaned thrusts stuttering every so often.

Till you felt it..

The feeling of his ropes cover your womb, filling your tight cunt, his constant caressing and affirmations.

While your cunt drinked him up for all his cock had to offer, his cock sliding out of your delicate cum filled folds still erect.

His smile growing, watching it ooz out just like his pre did when he saw you splayed out on your soft bed.

Fingers coming down to the escaping cum scooping it back into your greedy thing.

“Where you belong”

He cooed shoving to fingers into your pussy.

You whines coming from you.

Eyes lidded, lips plump, looks like this pussy needs a another round.

Soon enough Leon fixed himself back into his cop uniform.. wait him..

Great..

You huffed Leon only smiling, leaving the room bare.

Is he in my kitchen??

You thought your chest heaving still trying to listen for leon.

Then he shouted.

“Now let’s get that ring on”

384 notes · View notes

sabrinasopposite · 15 days ago

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you'll always find a way back home ❀

clark kent x reader (miley stewart summer au)

❀ summary: being a cali-girl has its advantages—surrounded by beaches, parties, and sunshine. Y/N loves her life there, but she forgets that deep down, her roots lie in the opposite: Smallville. Her summer takes an unexpected turn when she returns to Smallville for her summer break and crosses paths once again with her childhood enemy, Clark Kent.

word count: 6,755

There’s always the best of both worlds—one filled with glamour and the other, well, the opposite of it. The same could be said for Malibu and Smallville. Malibu embodied glamorous salt air, the sound of waves, and the endless rush of life. Smallville, on the other hand, was different: cows, meadows, and pure silence—the opposite sides of existence.

For Y/N, the feeling of living in two different worlds wasn’t a big deal. She had left one world behind at the age of seven, spending the next ten years in Malibu. Salt air, endless beaches, and the golden glow of the sun—it was a life she had carved out for herself, a world she had seamlessly become part of. The rush of city life, the hum of vibrant streets, and the pulse of constant motion nourished her soul in ways she could never have imagined as a seven-year-old. The sprawling metropolis of Malibu felt like a living, thriving entity at the edge of the world.

Before Malibu, there was only Smallville. The life she had known as a child was painted in shades of green—vast, open fields stretching endlessly in every direction. The land was quiet, so silent it could almost swallow her whole. Days were spent wandering dusty roads on horseback, the sun scorching the back of her neck, while the sound of crickets and rustling corn served as her only soundtrack. It was a life where the horizon never seemed to change, and the sense of being trapped within the narrow confines of the small town’s heartbeat was ever-present. A world of barns, hand-me-down denim, and the thick scent of earth—the very soil seemed to anchor her in place, a constant reminder of who she once was.

Then came the transformation. She shed the weight of Smallville like an old, weathered coat and replaced it with the sleek, gleaming allure of Malibu. Gone were the cowboy boots—now she walked in strappy sandals. The scent of hay gave way to the salty tang of the ocean breeze. Her hands, once calloused from farmwork, now held delicate silk fabrics and the soft sheen of designer handbags. Dusty roads became wide, pristine boulevards, and the simple country air was replaced by the intoxicating aroma of city life.

And she liked it.

Hell, she loved it.

She loved being a city girl, a Cali girl.

She had long forgotten the quiet winds that swept through Smallville’s open fields, the scent of grass and earth underfoot, and the cool embrace of the night sky.

Yet, as summer break loomed, she envisioned herself spending it with friends at the beach or going to parties. But plans took an unexpected twist, like a tornado without warning. Her father, Robbie, appeared with his ever-stubborn insistence. He informed Y/N and her brother, Jackson, that they were heading back to Smallville for a celebration—Martha Kent’s birthday.

Martha, Robbie’s childhood friend and the ever-kind, patient woman, had invited them to join the Kents for the occasion. Y/N wasn’t thrilled. Her original summer plans had promised excitement, filled with the laughter of friends and the sparkle of club lights—the kind of plans Malibu always encouraged. Smallville, though? It felt like a relic of the past, a place where time stood still.

“I don’t want to go,” Y/N protested, her voice sharp with frustration as she flopped back onto the couch. “I had plans. I was going to hang out with my friends, hit the clubs, you know, actually have fun.”

Robbie raised an eyebrow. “This is important, Y/N. You haven’t seen Martha in years. She’s been asking about you. You’re going, and that’s final.”

Y/N crossed her arms, glaring at him. “You’re really going to make me spend my break in a field with cows and tractors?”

Her brother, Jackson—the ever-peacemaker and, somehow, the most annoying brother—glanced over with a sympathetic smile. “Come on, Y/N, it’ll be fun. Like old times. You can hang out with me, catch up with everyone, and maybe the fresh air will do you some good.”

Y/N groaned, slumping into the cushions. “I don’t need fresh air. I need a beach, not cornfields.”

But her father wasn’t listening to her complaints. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving in an hour.”

The truck rumbled along the familiar winding roads of Smallville, the scent of dust and fresh air filling the cab. Y/N leaned against the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns in the condensation. Outside, fields stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted with grazing cows and the occasional weathered barn. The sight should have been nostalgic, but to Y/N, it only deepened her annoyance.

It had been years since she’d been here, yet the quiet of the countryside felt almost suffocating. The stillness pressed against her like a heavy blanket, the kind that made it hard to breathe. Smallville seemed frozen in time—its unchanging landscapes a stark contrast to the vibrant motion of Malibu.

She glanced over at Jackson, who was scrolling through his phone in the passenger seat, annoyingly unbothered by their sudden detour into the past. Robbie sat behind the wheel, humming along to a country station on the radio, clearly in his element. The whole scene made Y/N’s skin itch.

She sighed, the sound loud enough to get Jackson’s attention. He smirked without looking up from his phone. “You okay there, city girl?”

“Fine,” Y/N muttered, shifting in her seat. She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how irritated she was. But in truth, she wasn’t fine. The weight of Smallville’s simplicity—the fields, the dirt roads, the lack of anything remotely exciting—was already settling over her like a cloud.

The truck slowed as they passed the familiar white sign welcoming them to Smallville. Y/N’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. The memories she’d worked so hard to bury began clawing their way back to the surface: the laughter of kids on the school playground, the smell of hay bales during harvest, the quiet nights spent staring at the stars because there was nothing else to do.

She shifted her gaze back to the window, trying to drown out the flood of emotions with the rhythmic crunch of the tires on the gravel road. “Why couldn’t we just send a card?” she grumbled under her breath, earning a chuckle from Robbie.

“It won’t kill you to be here for a few days,” her father said, his tone equal parts teasing and firm. “Besides, Martha’s been looking forward to seeing you. She’s practically family, Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was the problem. Smallville wasn’t just a place she’d left behind—it was a version of herself she’d buried, a girl she didn’t want to be anymore. Being back here felt like opening a door she’d slammed shut years ago, and she wasn’t ready to step through it.

As the truck turned down a familiar dirt road, the Kent farmhouse came into view. It looked exactly as she remembered—whitewashed walls, a wide wraparound porch, and the iconic red barn standing proud against the horizon. Y/N could already picture Martha’s warm smile and open arms, the way she’d welcome them with fresh pie and a hug that felt like it could squeeze the air out of your lungs.

Her father parked the truck and hopped out, stretching with a contented sigh. “We’re here,” he announced cheerfully.

Y/N stayed put, gripping the door handle but not opening it. The idea of stepping out and being enveloped in the reality of Smallville made her stomach churn. She wasn’t ready to see the barn, the fields, or the people who would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. She wasn’t ready to feel like the little girl who used to belong here.

“Y/N?” Jackson’s voice broke through her thoughts. He was standing outside now, leaning against the truck with a knowing look on his face. “You coming, or are you planning to live in the cab?”

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pushed the door open and slid out. The warm summer air wrapped around her like a blanket, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. It was as if Smallville itself was welcoming her home.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and trudged toward the house, muttering under her breath, “This is going to be the longest summer of my life.”

The Kent farmhouse was just as Y/N remembered it, a picture-perfect postcard of rural life. The white picket fence framed the yard, the flowerbeds bursting with color, and the iconic red barn standing tall against the clear blue sky. Despite herself, she felt a twinge of warmth at the sight of it all.

Martha Kent stood on the porch, her apron dusted with flour, waving enthusiastically as the truck pulled to a stop. Y/N couldn’t help but smile a little. Martha’s energy was infectious, and her kind heart had always been a constant source of comfort during Y/N’s early years in Smallville.

“Y/N! Jackson! Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” Martha exclaimed, rushing forward with open arms. Robbie got out of the truck first, grinning as Martha pulled him into a quick hug before moving on to Y/N and Jackson.

Y/N braced herself for the inevitable bone-crushing hug, but when Martha wrapped her arms around her, it wasn’t suffocating—it was warm and reassuring, like stepping into the sunlight after a cloudy day. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman,” Martha said, pulling back to get a good look at her.

“Thanks, Martha,” Y/N said, her voice softening in spite of her earlier annoyance. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“And Jackson, my goodness, you’ve shot up like a weed!” Martha added, giving him a playful nudge.

Jackson grinned, always happy to be the center of attention. “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Kent.”

“Now, none of this ‘Mrs. Kent’ business. You know you can call me Martha,” she said, ushering them toward the porch.

The house smelled like freshly baked apple pie, with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg lingering in the air. Y/N couldn’t deny that it felt nice—familiar, even. Martha’s home had always been a safe haven, a place filled with warmth and kindness.

As they settled into the living room, Martha brought out a tray of lemonade and cookies, chatting animatedly with Robbie about old times. Jackson joined in, sharing stories of their life in Malibu. Y/N stayed mostly quiet, sipping her lemonade and letting the conversation flow around her. She liked Martha, but being back in Smallville was like stepping into a pair of old shoes that didn’t quite fit anymore.

“Clark’s not here, by the way,” Martha said suddenly, glancing at Y/N with a knowing smile. “He’s somewhere.”

Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her glass. Of course, Clark Kent would come up eventually. He was practically Smallville royalty, and Martha couldn’t help but dote on her son.

“That’s… fine,” Y/N said quickly, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Clark Kent was the most annoying boy next door, y/n has ever known. He was always teasing her about her farming skills, or pulled pranks with Jackson on her. Y/N always teased Clark that he couldn’t speak properly to girls, or that he looks like a grandpa. It was always forth and back.

Martha chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I seem to remember the two of you didn’t get along very well as kids.”

Jackson snorted. “Didn’t get along? That’s putting it mildly. Clark was always teasing her—pushing her to the hay, hiding her toys, calling her ‘city slicker’ even though she wasn’t from the city back then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, annoyance was clear on her face. “Yeah, well, he was a terror. I’m surprised he didn’t get himself kicked out of kindergarten.”

Martha laughed, clearly amused. “Oh, he’s grown out of that phase, I promise. He’ll be happy to see you.”

Y/N highly doubted that. The last time she’d seen Clark Kent, they’d been seven years old, and he’d shoved a frog into her lunchbox, resulting in her shrieking so loudly the teacher had to call the principal and Y/N pushed him later as revenge to a lake. The memory still made her cringe.

“Well, let’s hope he’s matured,” Y/N said in a sarcastically tone, setting her glass down on the coffee table.

Martha patted her hand gently. “I’m sure you’ll both get along better now. People change, Y/N.”

“Sure they do,” Y/N replied, though she wasn’t convinced. If Clark Kent was still the same smug, teasing boy she remembered, this summer was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

After the small talk in the living room had run its course, Y/N found herself wandering toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling fields behind the Kent house. Her eyes drifted to the paddock near the barn, and her breath caught when she spotted a familiar figure—Blue Jeans, her old horse.

The years hadn’t dulled his striking appearance. His glossy black coat gleamed in the sunlight, his white star-shaped marking standing out proudly on his forehead. Her heart squeezed as memories of riding him across the fields rushed back—those carefree days when the world felt vast and full of possibilities.

“He’s still here,” Y/N murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Martha, who had been tidying up, looked over and smiled warmly. “Of course, he is. Robbie couldn’t bear to part with him after you guys left. He’s been here ever since.”

Y/N couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips. Blue Jeans had been her constant companion during her Smallville years, a source of comfort when the quiet got too loud. She suddenly felt a tug of nostalgia and longing that she hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m going to go see him,” she said abruptly, grabbing her phone and heading toward the door.

The heat of the sun kissed her skin as she walked across the yard, the scents of hay and earth growing stronger with every step. When she reached the paddock, Blue Jeans was grazing lazily near the fence, his tail swishing against the flies.

“Hey there, boy,” Y/N called softly, leaning against the wooden fence. Her voice wavered slightly, a mix of excitement and nervousness. “It’s me, Blue Jeans. Remember me?”

The horse’s ears twitched, and he lifted his head to look at her. His dark eyes, once so full of trust and familiarity, now stared at her with a distant curiosity. Y/N felt a pang of disappointment.

“It’s been a while, huh?” she said, stepping closer. She reached out a hand, hoping he’d recognize her scent or the sound of her voice. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

Blue Jeans regarded her for a moment longer before snorting and turning his head away, clearly uninterested.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Y/N murmured, slipping through the fence and into the paddock. She approached slowly, her hand outstretched, but as soon as she got close, Blue Jeans startled. His ears pinned back, and before she could react, he bolted across the paddock, his hooves kicking up clouds of dust.

“Blue Jeans, wait!” Y/N called, her heart sinking as she watched him gallop toward the far side of the field.

She stood there for a moment, the weight of his reaction pressing down on her. He didn’t remember her. The bond they’d shared—the one she’d thought would last forever—was gone.

Frustration welled up as she stopped near the edge of the pasture, catching her breath. She hadn’t expected this—her own horse, the one she’d ridden through countless childhood summers, didn’t even know her anymore.

Movement on the far side of the field caught her eye. A rider was approaching swiftly on a sleek black horse, cutting across the open space with practiced ease. They seemed to have noticed Blue Jeans’ runaway gallop and were moving to intercept him.

Y/N squinted, trying to make out the rider. The sunlight glinted off the black horse’s glossy coat as the figure leaned low in the saddle, guiding the animal with effortless precision.

The rider expertly maneuvered their horse, heading off Blue Jeans before he could get any farther. With a firm but gentle pull of the reins, they brought him to a halt. The black horse stood steady, calm in its dominance, while Blue Jeans pawed at the ground, uncertain but no longer running.

Y/N stood frozen, watching the rider stroke Blue Jeans’ neck and murmur something she couldn’t hear. She felt a pang of gratitude mixed with curiosity.

As the rider turned and began leading the two horses back toward the barn, Y/N finally got a better look. The tall figure was dressed in a simple flannel shirt, jeans, and boots. The confidence in his movements stirred something vaguely familiar in her memory, but she couldn’t place it right away.

When the rider dismounted, handing Blue Jeans’ reins to her, Y/N finally got a clear look at his face—and her breath caught.

Clark Kent.

Of course, that was him.

He looked different—taller, broader, more confident—but the smug little smirk on his face as he approached was unmistakable.

“Lost something?” he called out, his voice carrying across the field.

Y/N crossed her arms, her jaw tightening as Clark brought both horses to a stop in front of her. Blue Jeans looked calm now, his ears twitching as Clark dismounted and handed her the reins.

“Your horse didn’t seem too thrilled to see you,” Clark said, his tone light but with that teasing edge she remembered all too well.

Y/N snatched the reins from his hand, glaring at him. “He just didn’t recognize me. It’s been a while.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself.”

She huffed, focusing on stroking Blue Jeans’ neck instead of responding. Clark’s black horse snorted behind him, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how well-trained and strong the animal looked.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide her irritation.

Clark shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I could ask you the same, city girl. Perhaps I was riding but I didn’t think I’d end up saving your horse in the process and I am still waiting for a ,thank you,” His tone sarcastically as ever.

“Thanks,” she muttered begrudgingly, avoiding his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone annoyingly cheerful.

As Clark mounted his horse again, he glanced back at her with a grin that made her blood boil. “Good to see you again, city girl. Try not to lose him next time.”

With that, he urged his horse into a trot and rode off, leaving Y/N standing there with Blue Jeans and a swirl of emotions she didn’t want to unpack.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, tugging lightly on Blue Jeans’ reins. “Welcome back to Smallville.”

Y/N walked slowly back toward the barn, Blue Jeans obediently following behind her, though he was still skittish from the brief escape. Her thoughts were racing, the familiar, maddening presence of Clark Kent bringing all kinds of feelings she’d hoped were buried. She couldn’t believe it—after all these years, he was still the same teasing, infuriating kid she remembered. Only now, he was taller, more confident, and somehow, even more irritating.

As she reached the barn, she heard the sound of hooves approaching again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate. She glanced over her shoulder, and sure enough, there was Clark, riding his horse back toward her.

He pulled the reins as he stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing with that mischievous glint she remembered so well.

“So, Malibu, huh?” he said, his tone light and teasing, as if he was trying to provoke her. “I actually didn’t even recognize you earlier. Thought you were some California tourist passing through.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks. “You’re not the first person to make that mistake,” she muttered, stroking Blue Jeans’ neck a little more forcefully than necessary.

Clark chuckled, clearly enjoying her discomfort. “No kidding. You look nothing like the girl I used to torment.” His gaze shifted up and down, inspecting her with an expression that felt far too knowing. “You’ve definitely changed. I barely recognized you without the pigtails and the dirt on your face.”

Y/N couldn’t suppress a huff of frustration. “Oh, I’m sure you’ve been really paying attention,” she shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Why would I want to look like that annoying little girl you used to pick on?”

Clark grinned, clearly enjoying every second of this. “You know, I never understood why you were so touchy about me teasing you. It was all in good fun. You were, what, seven? Not like you’d remember any of it now.” His eyes twinkled as if he was savoring the memory of their childhood rivalry.

“Trust me,” Y/N replied, her tone sharp, “I remember plenty. And just because I don’t look like that girl anymore doesn’t mean I’m not still the same person.”

Clark leaned back slightly in the saddle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Of course. But it’s hard to see past the whole… Malibu vibe. You’ve got the whole ‘I’m way too cool for Smallville’ thing going on.” His grin widened, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was teasing her or genuinely poking at something he knew would get under her skin.

Y/N glanced at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m not too cool for Smallville,” she said slowly, “but maybe it’s you who can’t see past the small-town life. Maybe it’s you who hasn’t changed.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by her comment. “I changed. I’m just not *bragging* about it like you are.” He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, indicating the way she stood in front of him, her posture more confident, her clothes undoubtedly a far cry from the ones she’d worn all those years ago. “I mean, Malibu does wonders for a person.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush but refused to back down. “I’m not bragging. And for the record, there’s more to me than whatever you think you see from your small-town perspective.” She met his gaze, refusing to let him get the best of her. “You know, I didn’t ask for this visit. I had better plans than standing here in the dust, talking to the same person who made my life miserable when we were kids.”

Clark leaned forward in the saddle, his expression softening slightly. “Hey, I’m just messing with you. I didn’t mean anything by it. But seriously, Malibu… It must be a whole different world from here, huh?” His tone was more genuine now, though still laced with that teasing undercurrent. “I bet it’s *pretty* hard to leave it all behind.”

Y/N hesitated. For a moment, the teasing and the rivalry faded, and she could hear the underlying curiosity in his voice. “Yeah,” she admitted, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “It’s... different. It’s all the things people think it is—beaches, sun, parties. But it’s also lonely. Harder than people realize.”

Clark’s smile faded, and he gave a small nod, as if he understood more than he was letting on. “I get it. Doesn’t matter how shiny things are. Not every place feels like home.”

Y/N looked at him, surprised by the change in tone. For a moment, it felt like they weren’t just two childhood enemies standing in the middle of a field—they were two people who, in their own ways, were just trying to make sense of their worlds.

But before she could say anything more, Clark seemed to snap back to his usual self. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your horse,” he said with a wink. “Just don’t lose him again, okay? I don’t want to have to rescue you next time.”

Y/N scowled. “You’re lucky I’m not punching you right now,” she shot back, but even as she said it, there was an undeniable hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Clark laughed, a light, carefree sound that made Y/N realize how little she actually knew about the boy who had teased her for so long. “I’ll be around, city girl. Don’t go getting too comfortable.”

Y/N watched him go, the sting of their old rivalry still there but somehow not as sharp. Maybe Smallville wasn’t as small as she remembered after all.

Over the next few days, Y/N found herself spending more time with Clark than she’d expected. Every time she tried to avoid him, he seemed to find a way to show up, like some kind of cosmic joke. And despite her best efforts to maintain her distance, she couldn’t help but feel a strange pull toward him. It was the kind of pull that only small towns seemed to foster—familiar, unspoken, and inescapable.

It started innocently enough. Martha had insisted that they all help with the chores around the farm, and, of course, Clark had been the first to show up, grinning like a cat that had gotten the cream.

“Ready to get your hands dirty, city girl?” he’d teased, standing at the entrance of the barn with his sleeves rolled up, looking like he belonged there more than anyone else.

Y/N shot him a glare, arms crossed. “I’ll have you know, I’m perfectly capable of doing chores, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, clearly not convinced. “I doubt you’ve done a real day’s work in your life,” he shot back, leaning against a barrel of hay. “I mean, Malibu’s great and all, but I don’t think they teach you how to muck out a stall out there.”

She clenched her jaw. “You’d be surprised what I can handle.”

And handle it, she did. After a little grumbling, they worked side by side, shoveling hay, cleaning out the barn, and feeding the animals. At first, it was awkward—Y/N wasn’t used to the rhythm of farm life anymore, and Clark didn’t hesitate to point out every little mistake she made.

“Oh, you missed a spot,” he’d tease, always with that smirk of his, as he wiped his hands on his jeans. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, city girl.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the truth was, she liked the banter. It reminded her of her childhood, when everything was simpler, when everything had felt like a game.

“Look, if you think I can’t do this, just wait until I show you how it’s done,” she said, determined to prove him wrong.

Clark raised an eyebrow. “Oh really? I’m waiting.”

And then, to his surprise, Y/N had grabbed the pitchfork and shoveled with more precision than he had expected. She might not have grown up with the same skills as him, but she knew how to get things done.

When they finally took a break, Clark leaned against the barn wall, wiping his forehead. “Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re not as bad as I thought. Maybe Malibu’s *not* all you are.”

Y/N smirked, a spark of competition in her eyes. “Told you so.”

Their time together continued like that—moments of teasing and lighthearted jabs followed by quiet, almost comfortable silences. They’d ride together out in the fields, their horses’ hooves beating a steady rhythm on the dirt. Clark would always make sure to *just barely* stay ahead of her, giving her a playful wink when she caught up.

“You know, I’ve always been better at this than you,” he would say, his voice a mix of challenge and amusement. “You used to be so slow. Guess Malibu's not doing much for your speed.”

Y/N would roll her eyes. “You really need to stop talking about the past, Kent. I’m faster now. Catch me if you can.”

And then she’d race ahead, her heart pounding in the excitement of the chase. Clark would grin and follow, effortlessly keeping pace with her, never really pushing to overtake her. They were both competitive, in their own ways, but Clark’s subtle teasing always managed to keep her on her toes.

One afternoon, after a long ride, they returned to the barn, both a little winded and flushed from the exertion. Clark tied the horses up, and when he turned to Y/N, he caught her looking at him for a moment longer than she intended.

“What?” he asked, his grin widening as he noticed the lingering look.

“Nothing,” Y/N replied quickly, her heart unexpectedly fluttering. “I was just thinking how *different* it is being here. It feels… good, I guess. Like it fits.”

Clark didn’t miss the tone in her voice. “Glad to hear it,” he said quietly, his smile softer now, like he wasn’t just teasing her for once. “You know, Smallville has a way of doing that to people. It’s like it gets under your skin.”

Y/N swallowed, feeling her heartbeat quicken. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

And then, almost as if to remind her that some things never really changed, Clark stepped closer, leaning in just a bit too close for comfort. “I’m still way better at riding than you, though,” he said, his voice low with that playful challenge. “I mean, you did need me to catch your horse earlier.”

Y/N huffed, trying to stay unaffected by the closeness. “I don’t remember asking for your help.”

He flashed a grin, his eyes lingering on her face for just a beat too long. “I’ll remind you of that next time I rescue you from your own horse again.”

The air between them shifted, a silent tension hanging in the barn as they stood in the afterglow of their ride, the sound of the horses settling in the background. Y/N felt a knot tighten in her stomach, but before she could respond, Clark seemed to snap back into his usual playful demeanor.

“Well, I’d better go help my mom with dinner,” he said, a little too casually. “You know, so you don’t think I’m just here to torment you all day.”

“Too late for that,” she retorted, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

And as Clark walked away, Y/N found herself watching him longer than she probably should have. It wasn’t just the way he’d changed physically—stronger, taller, more confident. It was the way he seemed to settle back into Smallville with a comfort that felt almost... easy. The way they both fell back into their old rhythm of teasing and rivalry, like time had stood still, despite everything.

But somewhere beneath the playful jabs and the teasing grins, Y/N couldn’t ignore the fact that maybe—just maybe—Clark Kent had grown up in ways she hadn’t expected. And that left her wondering if there was more to the new Clark than the boy who used to torment her so many years ago.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast at the Kent farm, Clark suggested they go on a ride to a place he thought she might like—a small waterfall hidden away just on the outskirts of town. He’d mentioned it casually, like it was no big deal, but Y/N could tell there was something about this spot that meant more to him than he was letting on.

They saddled their horses and set off, the cool morning air whipping past them as they rode side by side through the fields. The peaceful rhythm of the horses' galloping hooves against the dirt seemed to melt away all the tension that had lingered between them the past few days. It was easy, comfortable, in a way Y/N hadn’t expected. There was something about being on horseback, moving through the wide-open space, that made her feel connected to this place again—like she was finding pieces of herself she had forgotten.

Clark led her down a narrow path that wound through trees, and soon the sound of rushing water filled the air. They emerged from the trees and reached the small clearing. There, nestled between moss-covered rocks, was a hidden waterfall, cascading down into a crystal-clear pool below. Sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dancing shadows on the water's surface. It was quieter here, the only sound the rush of water and the occasional birdcall.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, momentarily stunned by the beauty of it. “This is... amazing. I never thought a place like this would be hiding right here.”

Clark smiled, clearly proud of the spot. “Told you. It’s one of my favorite places. Not many people know about it.”

He dismounted, tying the horses to a nearby tree, and then looked over at Y/N. “You should come down to the water. It’s the best part.”

Y/N hesitated for just a second, eyeing the small, clear pool at the base of the waterfall. “I don’t know, Clark. It looks kind of... cold.”

Clark grinned. “It’s refreshing. Trust me, you’ll love it. Besides,” he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you could use a little adventure. Also don’t you have beaches in Malibu?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her own grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Oh, don’t even start with that again.”

But before she could protest any further, Clark was already walking toward the water’s edge, kicking off his boots and rolling up his sleeves. Without warning, he jumped into the sea with a splash, sending water flying in every direction. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him, drenched but clearly enjoying himself.

Clark poked his head out from the water, eyes sparkling. “Come on, it’s not so bad!”

Y/N shook her head, still laughing at the sight of him. “You’re crazy,” she called, but even as she said it, she found herself grinning. There was something about seeing him so carefree, so unguarded, that made her feel... lighter, like the tension between them from their childhood had completely evaporated.

After a beat, she hesitated. She hadn’t planned on going into the water, but part of her felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe it was time to let go of her reservations and enjoy the moment.

With a resigned sigh, Y/N slowly walked toward the water, kicking off her own boots and rolling up her sleeves. She dipped a toe in, testing the water, and winced at the coolness.

“See? Not that bad,” Clark teased, grinning like a boy who had just won a victory.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she muttered, but before she could fully make up her mind, Clark swam closer to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Race you to the waterfall,” he said, his voice light with playful challenge.

Without waiting for a response, he splashed through the water, making his way toward the base of the waterfall.

Y/N’s competitive spirit flared up instantly. “You’re on!” she shouted, charging after him.

The water was cold, but the rush of the challenge and the sight of Clark splashing ahead of her made her forget the chill. She pushed forward, splashing water everywhere, and as she caught up to him, she could hear him laughing. The sound was carefree, filled with the kind of joy that she hadn’t heard from him in years. It made her heart flutter in a way she wasn’t quite prepared for.

Clark reached the waterfall first, turning back to look at her. “I knew you were slow.”

Y/N shot him a mock glare. “Not funny.”

But before she could protest further, Clark lunged toward her and, with a quick move, grabbed her around the waist and pulled her into the deeper part of the sea. Y/N yelped in surprise, but her protest was cut short as she found herself falling into the cool water, completely submerged for a moment.

She came up sputtering, her hair plastered to her face. “You jerk!”

Clark was already laughing, his eyes full of playful amusement. “Couldn’t resist,” he teased. “You’ve got to admit, it’s fun.”

Y/N wiped the water from her face, but as she looked up at him, something shifted between them. The teasing glint in Clark’s eyes softened for a moment, and for a beat, there was something in his gaze that made her heart skip.

He reached out, pushing a wet strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin for just a second longer than necessary. “You know, I’ve missed this,” he said, his voice quieter now, the teasing gone, replaced by something more genuine.

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding in her chest. “Missed what?”

He smiled softly, his eyes locking with hers. “To tease you the whole time?”

Y/N’s lips curved into a chuckle, shaking her head. “Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Clark chuckled, tilting his head as he moved a bit closer. “What exactly do you want me to say, then?”

Y/N found herself looking into his eyes for a moment longer than usual, her breath catching. There was something about his tone, something flirtatious but also not, and it made her feel... strangely open to the moment.

She let out a soft breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. “Like that you missed me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clark’s gaze softened, a hint of something more real flashing across his expression. For a moment, the world seemed to slow down around them. The teasing was gone, replaced by an unspoken understanding, something deeper than the playful back-and-forth that had defined their relationship for so long.

Clark hesitated for just a heartbeat, before his smile widened. “I think I can say that,” he said, his voice gentle, but there was still that glimmer of playfulness there. “I missed you, Y/N. Even if you were always a little... annoying.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, a mix of warmth and something else she couldn't quite place. She tilted her head, her voice playful but soft. “You’re still teasing me.”

Clark’s expression shifted, and for the first time since they hang out the whole time, he seemed to be a little more serious. “Maybe I am, but it’s because I... I don’t know, I like seeing you smile. You don’t even know how much I missed you.”

Y/N’s breath caught again. She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed for something genuine from him, something that didn’t involve teasing or childish rivalries.

She reached up, brushing her fingers lightly against his arm, before letting them fall back to her side. “Well,” she said, her voice softening, “I missed you too, Clark. In my own way.”

Clark didn’t say anything for a moment, as if letting the weight of her words sink in. Then, without warning, he gave her a crooked grin, his tone returning to that teasing edge she was so familiar with. “So, does that mean you’ll forgive me for all the cowboy or malibu jokes?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but this time, the smile on her lips was different—gentler, warmer. “Maybe. But only if you promise not to throw me into the water again.”

Clark laughed, the sound light and easy. ��Deal. But just so you know, it was totally worth it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh along with him, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. The moment had shifted from playful banter to something much more. Something real.

And for the first time, Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to let go of this new side of Clark—this side that made her feel seen, not just as the girl from Malibu, but as someone who could still be a part of Smallville, in her own way.

Maybe it was true, that you’ll always find a way back home.

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denksmail · 6 months ago

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Hello love, i stumbled upon your blog and think that it's cool! Can you write a superman/Clark Kent x flourist!Reader? I can't think of a scene so go crazy😭

let me cook 😈 😈

��ᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ: Superman (Clark Kent) x Reader ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none! xx ᴀ/ɴ: Finally a Dc request!! I love writing for DC sm >w<. Especially writing for the batfam. Also thank you everyone for the fat load of requests omg!! Multiple of you asked what my guidelines regarding NSFW, just DM me, and see if I'm comfortable writing your request. ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ: Clark is visiting Smallville for the weekend and decides to go to his local florist shop to buy a little something for his mom. Little does he know, he will leave the shop with more than just a bouquet of flowers.

Clark was always sweet but he put his work and responsibilities before everyone. Even his loved ones. His friends start to pick up on this behavior and demand that he take a break from saving everyone all the time. With time, Clark gave in and started with visiting his family back in Smallville. It's been months since he spoke with them. He didn't even know what he'd do when he saw them again. An idea crossed his mind. The least he can do is provide a gift for them. His first idea is to buy flowers for his mom, Martha.

He left the house in hopes of finding the perfect flowers for her. Across the street was a small pink flower shop that recently opened. Clark adjusted his glasses, smiled, and made his way across the street to the shop. Upon walking into the shop, he was immediately hit with fresh floral scents. A blend of roses, lilies, and other exotic blooms. The whole shop was decorated to match each flower displayed. With every flower of every color filling the room and making the shop vibrant.

Behind the counter stood a young woman, arranging a bouquet with deft hands. She had a warm smile and bright eyes that sparkled with enthusiasm. Clark approached her, his usual confidence slightly wavering in the presence of her captivating aura.

"Hi there," he greeted with a friendly smile. "I'm looking to buy some flowers for my mom. Do you think you could help me find the perfect bouquet?"

The florist looked up, her smile widening. "Of course! I'd be happy to help. What's the occasion?"

"Just a visit," Clark replied. "I haven't seen her in a while, and I want to bring her something special."

The florist nodded thoughtfully, her fingers tapping her chin as she considered his request. "Well, let's see. For a mother, you want something that conveys love, appreciation, and warmth. How about a mix of roses and lilies? Roses symbolize love and admiration, while lilies represent purity and refined beauty."

Clark watched her as she moved around the shop, selecting flowers with care. Her movements were graceful, almost like a dance. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by her dedication and passion for her work.

"That sounds perfect," he said, his voice sincere. "You really know your flowers."

She blushed slightly, her smile becoming a bit shy. "Thank you. I love what I do, and it's always a pleasure to help someone find the perfect bouquet."

As she continued to assemble the bouquet, they chatted about various topics—flowers, Smallville, and even a bit about the bustling city of Metropolis. Clark found himself enjoying the conversation more than he had anticipated. There was something refreshing about her genuine interest and warmth.

"You know," she said, tying the bouquet with a delicate ribbon, "these flowers remind me of my own mom. She used to tell me that flowers are nature's way of smiling at us."

Clark smiled, feeling a connection with her words. "Your mom sounds like a wonderful person."

"She was," the florist replied softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of fondness and nostalgia. "I think your mom will love these flowers. Here you go."

She handed him the bouquet, a beautiful arrangement of red roses and white lilies. Clark took it, marveling at the care and artistry that had gone into creating it.

"Thank you," he said, his voice warm. "I really appreciate it."

As he reached for his wallet, the florist placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "It's on the house," she said with a wink. "Consider it a gift for your mom."

Clark was taken aback by her generosity. "Are you sure? I don't mind paying."

"I'm sure," she replied, her smile genuine. "Just promise to come back and tell me how she liked them."

He chuckled, feeling a warmth in his chest. "I promise."

Before he could leave, the florist reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and handed it to him.

"Here's my number," she said, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "In case you ever need more flowers, or, you know, just want to talk."

Clark took the paper, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. "Thank you," he said softly. "I'll definitely keep that in mind."

With the bouquet in one hand and her number in the other, Clark left the shop, a smile playing on his lips. As he took to the skies, he felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. Visiting his parents was nothing new to him but this time, there was an added reason for his uplifted spirits—a charming florist who had managed to make his day a little brighter.

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 years ago

Text

Airport Chaos.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - seeing how agitated that harry looked when he was just trying to get out of the car actually made me so cross, just be grateful that you got to see him, learn to give people personal space.

word count - 2.5k

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

As the car glides through the vibrant streets of Barcelona, a serene ambiance envelops you and your family, casting a veil of tranquillity over the world around you. The bustling energy of the city has retired for the night, leaving behind an exquisite symphony of solitude.

As your car glides along the deserted thoroughfares, the city unveils its timeless secrets. The ancient buildings, guardians of Barcelona's rich history, stand tall and proud, their façades adorned with intricate details and ornate balconies. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, their colors dance in harmony with the moonlit sky, creating a spellbinding kaleidoscope of hues.

The streets, devoid of the usual crowds, are yours to explore, each corner leading you deeper into the heart of this vibrant metropolis. The gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of towering trees, lending a symphony of rustling whispers to the nocturnal symphony. Their branches reach out like gentle arms, swaying gracefully overhead, creating a celestial canopy above the cobblestone lanes.

Occasionally, you catch glimpses of life seeping through the silence. A few solitary figures make their way along the sidewalk, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows upon the ground. Some are still adorned in the attire of a long workday, their weary steps echoing the rhythm of a day well-spent. Others, just beginning their nocturnal duties, are cloaked in the promise of a vibrant night ahead. Their presence adds a touch of mystique to the ethereal scenery, reminding you of the shared humanity that underlies the city's nocturnal tapestry.

The intoxicating scent of the sea lingers in the air, carried by the zephyrs that dance through the city streets. It mingles with the aromas of nearby cafés and restaurants, teasing your senses and igniting a hunger for adventure. The distant echoes of laughter and faint strains of music beckon, hinting at hidden pockets of life that come alive when the sun sets.

The drive continues with you cradling your sleeping one year old son, Finley, in your arms. His tiny mouth remained gently attached to your breast, having drifted off while nursing in the backseat after Harry's exhilarating concert. The rise and fall of his contented breaths provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey ahead.

You, Harry, and Finley were en route to Barcelona–El Prat Airport, preparing to catch a flight to Madrid. The excitement of the concert still lingered in the air, yet a hint of apprehension crept into your thoughts. The prospect of manoeuvring through a bustling airport with a sleeping baby nestled in your embrace weighed on your mind. Your nails became the focus of your nervous energy, as you absentmindedly picked at them, a telltale sign of your discomfort in crowded spaces.

Aaron, the driver, broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air with concern. "There's quite a crowd near the parking area," he informed you and Harry. "It might be a bit tricky to navigate through when we arrive."

The words sent a ripple of anxiety through your body, tightening your grip on Finley. You couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability in the face of such a boisterous crowd. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, knowing that your partner, Harry, thrived amidst the adoring masses that followed his every move.

As if sensing your unease, Harry's gaze shifted from the passing scenery to your nervous gestures. His touch was a lifeline, lifting your spirits and grounding you in his unwavering support. He reached out and gently grasped your hand, lifting it to his lips.

With a voice filled with reassurance and tenderness, he murmured, "M’love, don't worry. Everything's going t’be fine."

His words echoed in your ears, resonating deep within your heart. Harry's touch, warm and comforting, conveyed a sense of security, reminding you that you were never alone in facing your fears. Even though he was accustomed to crowds, he understood your anxieties and was always there to offer solace.

A soft smile danced upon your lips as Harry pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his lips grazing your skin with tender affection. In that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you—an unbreakable bond forged in love, trust, and understanding.

And as the car continued its journey towards the airport, you clung to the strength and reassurance Harry provided. The touch of his lips upon your knuckles served as a soothing balm, instilling you with a renewed sense of courage and confidence.

The car slowed down as it approached the bustling parking area, the clamour of the crowd growing louder. But in that moment, with Harry's kiss lingering on your skin, you felt a surge of determination. The chaos outside the car could not overpower the love and support that encompassed your little family.

Gently shifting Finley off your breast, you carefully disengaged him, causing him to let out a soft whinge in protest. Worried that he might fully wake up, you quickly began to sway and soothe him, hoping to lull him back into a peaceful slumber. As your soothing motions took effect, his eyelids fluttered, and he settled once again into a deep sleep.

Glancing up from Finley's serene face, you caught Harry's attention. His eyes met yours, and you could see the concern etched in his features. Taking in the scene outside through the tinted windows of the Mercedes, he turned back to you, his voice filled with determination and care.

"I'll get out first, sign a few things, and then I'll come back t’help you and Fin," Harry explained, his unwavering support shining through his words.

As he prepared to step out of the car, a surge of fans already surrounded the vehicle. They clamoured for a glimpse of their beloved idol, desperate to show their adoration. Harry's body shifted, one leg still anchored inside the car while the other extended towards the crowd, his calm demeanour serving as a shield of tranquillity amidst the chaos.

With a graceful balance of firmness and kindness, Harry skillfully kept the fans at a distance, ensuring their safety while maintaining his own. He exuded a rare sense of composure, navigating the sea of adoring faces with a genuine smile and a genuine touch, making each person feel seen and valued.

As Harry prepared to fulfill his promise of signing an album for a dedicated fan, the crowd's energy buzzed with anticipation. He stepped out of the car with a gracious smile, navigating through the throngs of adoring fans who eagerly stretched out their arms, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Amidst the excited voices and outstretched hands, one fan appeared particularly adamant about getting close to Harry. They pushed forward, disregarding personal boundaries, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near him. Sensing the fan's persistence, Harry raised a hand, creating a barrier between them.

"Chill out, mate," he spoke firmly, his tone laced with a mix of assertiveness and exhaustion.

You observed the situation unfold from the comfort of the car, your heart filled with concern. As the encounter unfolded, you could see glimpses of Harry's fatigue creeping in. The long hours of performing, travelling, and constant interaction with fans were undoubtedly taking a toll on him.

His initial patience and composure began to waver, replaced by a growing agitation. Lines of weariness etched themselves upon his face, and his eyes betrayed a longing for a moment of respite. Despite his efforts to maintain his poise, the relentless demands began to chip away at his stamina.

And as the crowd's clamour continued, you sent a silent message of understanding and support to Harry, hoping he would find solace in your presence. In that moment, you yearned to offer him the calm and tranquillity he deserved, to shield him from the world's demands and allow him to simply be himself, away from the spotlight.

The image of Harry, his hand held up in a gesture of boundary and weariness, remained etched in your mind. It symbolised the delicate balance he maintained between his role as an artist and his own need for rest.

With a resolute expression, Harry addressed the persistent fans surrounding him, his voice carrying a blend of urgency and determination.

"I need to get m’wife and m’son out of the car," he asserted, hoping to convey the importance of their privacy and the need for a moment of respite. “Could y’please step back a little please.”

Some fans responded to his plea, relenting and creating a bit of space, while others continued to plead for photos and autographs. Recognizing the challenge at hand, Harry turned to the security team, issuing a request for them to create a pathway, guiding you and Finley safely through the crowd.

After ensuring that the security team was in position, Harry returned to the car, a mix of concern and weariness etched upon his face. Sensing his presence, you looked at him, seeking his guidance and reassurance.

"Is it okay for us to get out?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Harry's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting the immense love and care he had for his family.

“As okay as it can be," he replied, his voice holding a gentle understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

Reaching out, he took Finley from your arms, his touch filled with tenderness and protectiveness. As Finley nestled his face in the crook of his father's neck, the exhaustion and overwhelm washed over him, causing tears to well up and spill forth. The flashing lights and the cacophony of the crowd became too much for the little one to bear.

Harry's embrace tightened, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other ensuring that Finley was cradled with care. His fatherly instinct kicked in, providing a sense of security amidst the chaos.

As the crowd pressed closer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch, one fan extended a hand towards Finley's tiny arm in hopes of capturing Harry's attention. But the innocent gesture had an unintended effect. Finley recoiled, pulling his arm back with a sudden jerk, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

Witnessing your son's distress, a surge of protectiveness welled up within you. Your heart ached for Finley, his innocence disrupted by the intrusion of a stranger's touch. At that moment, the proximity to the airport entrance offered a brief respite, as the number of fans thinned out. However, the incident had stirred something within Harry, a mix of concern and frustration that flickered in his eyes.

Harry, usually known for his composed demeanour, could no longer suppress his emotions. He addressed the fans, his voice tinged with a touch of agitation.

“Please, don't touch m’son," he implored, his words a plea laced with a protective urgency.

Rubbing his hand up and down Finley's back, Harry sought to soothe his distressed son. His touch carried a mixture of tenderness and firmness, a comforting gesture aimed at calming Finley's frayed nerves.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause, the weight of the situation resting heavily upon Harry's shoulders. The love he had for his son radiated through his touch, as he tried to ease Finley's unease and offer a sense of security amidst the unexpected turmoil.

As you finally made your way into the airport, the bustling atmosphere shifted to a slightly calmer pace.

“I’ve just got to go to the loo, quickly.” Your fiancé told you and the rest of the security who nodded their heads as he quickly handed Finley into your waiting arms. Fatigue and weariness were evident on his face, etched by the demands of the day.

In a tender exchange, Harry spoke softly to Finley, their bond evident in every word.

"I'll be back soon, little one." he murmured, his voice filled with affection and a touch of exhaustion. Finley looked up at his father, their connection palpable even at such a young age.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for Harry as you observed the tiredness etched on his face. He had given his all on stage, then faced the excitement and challenges of the crowd. Yet, even in his weariness, he remained attentive and loving, making sure to reassure Finley before attending to his own needs.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek, a gesture of support and understanding.

“We’ll be waiting here for you," you whispered, letting him know that you were there, ready to provide the stability and comfort he deserved.

Harry swiftly made his way to the restroom, seeking a momentary escape from the clamour and demands that surrounded him. He entered a closed cubicle, the solitude offering a brief respite from the outside world. The heavy door closed behind him, enclosing him in a quiet space.

Seated on the closed toilet seat, Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling in his mind. The facade of composure he wore for the public began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and with a trembling hand, he unlocked it.

The screen illuminated with a picture that held his heart captive—a snapshot of you and Finley when he was just born. The memory flooded his senses, the pure joy and love captured in that moment forever etched into his soul. The time displayed on the phone read 12:06 am, a reminder of the countless sleepless nights he had spent caring for his family.

Overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, Harry's composure shattered, and he silently sobbed. His tears fell in solitude, unheard by the world beyond the closed cubicle. He held his phone against his chest, clutching it over his heart, seeking solace in the tangible reminder of the love that anchored him.

The weight of his responsibilities and the unrelenting demands of fame bore down upon him. Despite his unwavering love for his fans, a sense of suffocation enveloped him at times. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he grappled with the fear that his son, the embodiment of his deepest love, had been placed in harm's way due to the adoration of his supporters.

Feeling the weight of his emotions and the need for comfort, Harry pulled his phone away from his chest and dialled a familiar number. The phone rang, each passing second heightening his anticipation.

Finally, the call connected, and he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

"Mum... I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you," Harry spoke softly, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and relief. Despite the unwavering support he found in his partner and in you, he longed for the familiar embrace of his mother's understanding.

His mother was one of his best friends, and he knew it was late over in England but he just needed to hear her voice. He knew you would always listen to his thoughts and feelings but there was something about hearing his mothers voice that made him feel better.

Don’t get Harry wrong, this was undoubtedly one of the best tours he had ever done in his life, but he desperately needed a break.

He was craving the feeling of his own bed, with Finley laying against his chest and you laid asleep in his arms.

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octoberautumnbox · 1 year ago

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Aquamarine

Soloist Lee Chaeyeon & Male Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Categories/tags: smut, shower, glass, camera/picture, standing sex, standing doggy, creampie, fluffy (at least thats the plan)

a/n: birthday piece for the second half of IZ*ONE'S HoneyWaterz! she gets like one fic a year y'all are missing out. and as usual (lol) no proofread no beta im sorry i know its terrible

The water glistens against her skin, shining as it falls down her back. The city lights seem so far below you like you're in the clouds yourself. The smoke doesn't reach up here, nor the hustle and bustle of the metropolis below. It's only you and her.

Click, click, click. Find her through your camera's lens, taking perfect shot after perfect shot. She turns around and smiles a divine smile at you, and you suspect that she's stopped posing a long while ago; now, she's just glad to find you nearby.

She paddles adorably over to the shallow end of the pool and takes a seat. "Thank you for taking me out like this, babe. I love you so much. Everything is perfect."

She wrings her hair carefully and looks up over the moon, enjoying the cool breeze of tropical air on her face and chest. Click.

"Ugh, stop it," she giggles. "I wasn't ready. Delete that one."

You chuckle and place your camera on a dry, flat surface and join her in the pool. The water is warm between your toes, and you accept the welcome by sitting down in it right next to her.

You try to put your arm around her shoulder, but she shrugs it off cutely. "Don't, you idiot," she scolds lovingly, "I'm all wet."

Sulking away playfully, never mind your lightly damp Hawaiian shirt, you respond. "Wow, calling me an idiot just for trying to love you. I knew it, you've just been using me all this time..."

She laughs her signature laugh, painting the skyline of your heart in vibrant tones of aquamarine. She takes your hand and pulls slowly, bringing your arm around her once more.

"You're gorgeous, you know that? Everything about you is perfect." Place a hand on her cheek and bring her gaze over to yours. "How'd I end up with someone as breathtaking as you?"

"Shut up, babe..." she chuckles lightly as she places her hand over yours. "You know I fell for you first."

Close your eyes gently as the gravity of your hearts draw your lips together. You find her halfway through the darkness, but of course you did. When has she ever let you down?

The kiss you share is slow, respectful. You ask for permission from each other wordlessly, giving and taking just a tiny bit more from each other's love with every singular peck.

She breaks the kiss gratefully. As you open your eyes you're met with a goddess, ethereal and alluring. And she's all yours.

Without her forehead leaving yours, she whispers to you, "Let's go inside, babe, I'm getting cold."

~~~

Pull her by her waist into the shower enclosure and take her lips again. She strips you of your Hawaiian shirt, now soaked, and tosses it out of the glass cubicle. Her arm wraps around your neck, while her free hand finds the shower handle.

The showerhead comes to life, and warm water falls onto your back. Chaeyeon slips her fingers under your waistband and pulls down, taking away your last bits of clothing and relieving you of the growing pressure in your shorts.

You do the same, pulling off her dripping wet bikini bottom. Without ever breaking the kiss, she kicks them away and takes your hands onto her plump and firm ass. She moans lightly at your touch, music to your ears.

As much as you want to keep them there, you know there's more you have to do first. Break the kiss for just a moment, and see your girlfriend out of breath.

Grabbing the hem of her top, you pull up. She raises both arms to help you out, knowing that this also gives you the best view of your favorite part.

The wet piece of fabric moves up past her chest, and her beautiful tits bounce free from their containment. You keep pulling until the bikini top clears her head and finally her arms, and then you toss them out of the cubicle and shut the door.

She wraps her arms around your neck again. Grip her ass cheeks and pull her towards you, savoring her firm behind while you force your cock between her thighs.

She moans cutely at the sensation of your head right at the entrance of her heat. You kiss her again, torridly this time, and she returns your affections hungrier, more impatient, less quietly than earlier.

She pulls you even closer, pressing her soft breasts onto your chest, and the feeling could not be more heavenly. You know she's doing this on purpose, and so you respond in kind by giving her a smack on her butt cheek, forcing it to jiggle. As she's groaning into your mouth as a reflex, you leave her at a loss for a more heavenly moment.

Chaeyeon finally frees your lips, and the both of you take a deep breath. You can't get enough, though, and bring her over to the glass pane nearest to you.

"You're so fucking hot..." She traces all over your body with her fingertips. "How do you want me, babe?" she asks courteously.

"You have to smile for the camera, sweetheart." Turn her around to face the glass, and wipe away the steam obstructing her view of outside. She spots your camera sat on a table, facing the pair of you, and she blushes and smirks devilishly as she catches wind of your plan.

"Naughty boy... Hurry up and take me." Chaeyeon bends over and gives you a clear view of her ass, and shows off her pink lower lips for your pleasure.

You make her lean on the glass pane with her forearms as you grab her by the hips. Always the gentleman, you don't keep her waiting. Pull her lips apart, hear her groan at the feeling, and, finally, push your hardened cock into her tight pussy.

"Fuck..." Click. The flash goes off in front of her, and she turns redder in her cheeks. "This is so fucking hot, babe..."

"Happy birthday, baby. You're getting a private photo book of tonight as one of your gifts. Smile your prettiest."

You feel her velvet walls clench lovingly around your cock. It isn't a challenge at all though, with her slick lubricating her insides, to pull out nearly all the way, and force yourself back into her core.

Relish the feeling of fucking the most beautiful woman in the world. Take pride in how she powerlessly surrenders herself to your will. With every thrust deep into her pussy, you show her that she'll only ever belong to you.

"Babe, harder... Please fuck me harder." You comply with her request, as you thrust forward you forcefully pull her back. Her ass meets your pelvis at every pump, producing a symphony of slaps and groans.

Click, click, click. The camera makes its presence felt as flashes fill the other side of the bathroom. Push your goddess of a girlfriend harder against the glass, and she lets out a loud "ahhhh" as her nipples and breasts are squished onto the cold surface.

"Right there, babe, keep fucking me just like that..." Her walls only get tighter as your cock splits her apart. The sounds of her pleasure fill the bathroom as you bring her closer and closer to climax.

"I love you... so... fucking much, babe..." you mutter next to her ear. You can tell she's losing control of herself, she answers only in moans of ecstasy at the rough fucking she's receiving.

Hook her leg under your arm, raise it for the camera. Click, click. The view of her pussy being violated by your cock is crystal clear for the camera to capture. Click. Chaeyeon screams in pleasure as you reach new depths in the lewd position she finds herself in. Click. Her face is smushed against the glass with how hard you're pushing her. Click, click, click. Her nipples grow stiffer against the clear pane, spurring her on and on towards her eventual release.

"Sweetheart, you still good?" She can't answer, you know she can't. Just one look and you can tell she's long gone: her head thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of her skull, no regard for whatever she might be saying anymore.

Figure she's had enough. Conclude her long day with a bang. Give her a high note to end a perfect celebration. Better yet, make her sing the high note herself.

You grow more ravenous with your hold on her. "You know... One of your gifts... a whole photo book... of just tonight." Click. You thrust into her sex more roughly, chasing your high as you force her to reach hers. She can't defy you, and you know she won't. She's yours.

Her climax comes to her like an earth-splitting bolt of lightning. All at once, a guttural scream rips through her throat, click, streaks of her cum spray onto the glass she's pressed against, click, she stumbles as her legs give out underneath her, click, click, and her walls grip you in a desperate attempt to prolong her unholy pleasure as much as she can, click.

"I'm cumming, baby... Happy birthday--!!!" With a deep groan you shoot your cum into her womb, making sure every spurt stays in and takes. Her walls apply a heavenly amount of pressure on your cock, milking you for more, and you give her exactly what she wants. With every spurt of your hot cum into her abused snatch Chaeyeon screams louder yet, click, begging in gibberish for something she herself doesn't even know anymore.

You realize she's full up when your cum overflows from her pussy and down her thigh. She's taking heavy breaths now, and your wits are slipping away from you.

~~~

You find yourself sat on the cold tiled floor of the shower. Warm water still falls from the showerhead and onto the pair of you. Chaeyeon is taking her sweet time filling her lungs with air and steadying her breathing. Her head's leaned onto your shoulder, so you push her hair aside to give her a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you, sweetheart. You might not have heard me earlier, but happy birthday."

She can only respond in deep breaths and scratchy hums. She brings her lips back over to yours, last kiss before getting dressed for bed. And you know that meant "I love you too."

a/n: yknow i should just stop planning fics at this point lmao. anyways, happy birthday our feather chaeyeon!!!

#lee chaeyeon smut #chaeyeon smut #girl group smut #izone smut #kpop smut #fic box

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wallpapersmonster · 4 days ago

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miueo · 7 months ago

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𐙚 my little idol ♥︎．。．:*･° chap i ✿

ᰔᩚ ︶ྀི new legacy .

summary : you're currently in a new girl group underneath jyp entertainment ! your group is performing well on charts, you have a stable fanbase, and many bops to listen to! you try your best to avoid dating scandals for the sake of your reputation and status but it's all ruined by a very popular group of boys.

pairings : ot8!skz ♡ femidol!reader !

warnings : no smut in this chapter ; heavy on smut, sexualization & objectification, perversion, obsession, taboo / dark concepts (for some members, not all !) , mental physical / health issues (depression, anxiety, etc.), coercion, unsolicited pictures, more to be announced.

notes : hiii !!!! i am currently in guangdong… ive been traveling so much lately, sorry for the lack of content. THIS IS JUST AN INTRO CHAPTER!

taglist : @p0eticjust1c3 @yunjinswifee @sky00ung @pinkdranks @bloominhos @mi-mi-mu @nasiaisan @kitkat1sstuff @hyunjinhoexxx @theinsanebish

selected song for fic :

in the bustling heart of seoul’s entertainment scene, amidst the glittering promise of fame and the relentless pursuit of dreams, there exists a young talent whose voice echoes with the power to stir souls. her name is song y/n, a gifted vocalist whose journey to becoming a k-pop sensation began with a passion for music that bloomed in her hometown.

from an early age, y/n’s voice enchanted audiences, drawing praise for its depth and emotional resonance. encouraged by her family’s unwavering support, she embarked on a path that led her to jyp entertainment, where her talent would be nurtured and polished to perfection. in the rigorous world of k-pop training, y/n’s dedication and natural ability set her apart, particularly her ability to convey emotion through every lyric and melody.

selected for her exceptional vocal skills, y/n found herself among the chosen few to join 4ura, a newly formed girl group at jyp entertainment. with three other members, each bringing their own strengths to the table, 4ura aimed to carve out a place in the competitive landscape of k-pop. for y/n, being part of 4ura wasn’t just about achieving stardom; it was about fulfilling a lifelong dream and sharing her music with the world.

as rehearsals filled her days and anticipation fueled her nights, song y/n stood on the brink of a future she had once only dared to imagine. with determination in her heart and the power of her voice as her guide, she was poised to make her mark as not just an idol, but as an artist whose presence on stage would resonate far beyond the lights of seoul.

❁

at the forefront stands y/n song, the group’s main vocalist hailing from the vibrant streets of new york city. blessed with a voice that effortlessly transcends genres, y/n’s journey to stardom is a testament to years of dedication and an unyielding commitment to her craft.

beside her is olivia wong, the group’s main dancer, whose electrifying moves reflect her upbringing in the bustling metropolis of hong kong. with a dance style that blends precision and grace, olivia brings a dynamic energy to 4ura’s performances, captivating audiences with every fluid motion.

adding to the group’s allure is minjeong kim, renowned as 4ura’s visual, drawing inspiration from the natural beauty of jeju island. with a magnetic presence that commands attention, minjeong’s ethereal charm and captivating gaze make her an undeniable visual powerhouse within the group.

completing this quartet of talent is autumn yang, the group’s main rapper with roots tracing back to the sun-drenched shores of california. autumn’s sharp lyricism and charismatic delivery bring a fresh perspective to 4ura’s music, adding depth and diversity to their sound.

❁

beyond their individual talents, 4ura thrives within the supportive community of jyp entertainment, fostering close relationships with labelmates nmixx, stray kids, itzy, and twice. from collaborative performances that electrify audiences to backstage camaraderie that strengthens their bonds, 4ura and their fellow jyp artists form a tight-knit family united by a shared passion for music and a drive to push boundaries.

as they prepare to debut on stages both local and global, 4ura stands poised to make an indelible mark in the world of k-pop. with their unique blend of talent, charisma, and ambition, they are ready to carve out a place among the stars, promising a future where their music will resonate far and wide, leaving an unforgettable imprint on the hearts of fans everywhere.

everything is so perfect right now. what could possibly ruin this beautiful moment?

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queenendless · 3 months ago

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ÆŁŁ ƏŸƏ§ ØŊ MƏ

A/n: This was gonna be for another series. But this idea popped up for this one instead.

Pairing: Seto Kaiba x Yami Yugi x F!Reader.

Self aware AU. Inspired by Cross Duel and Duel Links; especially plot wise. Other YGO sequel series mentioned. But mostly DM. Mainly on these two.

CW: Depression, dysphoria and dysmorphia implied, chronic ailments; based off my own issues. Brief swearing, blood, violence. But also fluff, hurt/comfort, and romance/dark romance.

You spend many a day into the late nights, wasting the hours away by watching whatever and every other thing to dash away the emptiness you have inside. Whether on the TV, your laptop, to even your phone, you get lost into the vibrant, upbeat, tear-jerking moments of your favorite media. Shows, movies, games and beyond.

Like an iconic anime on a trading card game.

Having gotten late to the party, you quickly fell for the series, the plot, and its cast. Most of all, the reincarnated Pharaoh and his fated rival for his life.

The appeal of a brand new game peaked your interest. More so a fan game. The mechanics of Duel Links paired with the 2D CG moving models of Cross Duel. An immersive app combining all the series.

While you weren't the best at such competitive games, you still found yourself enjoying the experience. With every series up to the present day. So many characters to unlock and many decks to make. You weren't good at memorizing names, though. But your top two would be your #1 priority.

Anything to help you get through the days. Your job less, disabled days. Cooped up in your room, blocking out the yelling and slamming doors and intrusive thoughts.

Focusing on their handsome faces and familiar voices kept you calm and elated as you always switched between the two throughout your playthrough.

"You're a long way from become a true duelist ... but I can see you have the interest and potential for it. Stick with me and I'll make it worth your while."

"Not to fret. Each battle helps you learn and improve. So long as I am at your side, you'll be amazed at how far you'll go. I'm looking forward to it."

Hearing their voices, seeing those beautiful faces, gave you such serotonin as you stay cooped up in your own little safe haven, escaping from the suffocating cracked home life into the YGO verse.

You spent the next few days grinding in this immersive game, your free time spent leveling up, collecting your favorite cards, and raising the trust level of your other liked favorites. Especially to see the interactions, crossovers, and more as you picked up their voices.

The surprising sight of tapping all over your screen to see their hair and attire rustle paired with such flushed alarmed expressions poking their faces.

"You've got a lot of nerve to mess with the President of Kaiba Corp ..." The sight of him flicking you followed by the immediate firm tap on your forehead made you yelp loudly, nearing dropping the phone. Seeing Seto's laughing face on screen made your strewn expression lighten. "Well deserved."

Yami's raised brow look made you look away in shame. "Pardon me, but I'm right here. There was no need for that." The firm poke to your cheek made you jump in alarm and drop your phone on your bed, gaping at Yami's chuckling face. "Now that was well called for."

It had been a week when that happened. The real world influence from the digital world held in your hand. Startled, alarmed, concerned you had to close the app and take a while to process your racing, anxious self. The app flickered from blue to red. Your phone screen glitches.

Escaping to your laptop proved fruitless. For seeing your lockscreen darken and distort yourself, only to show the cast walking and chatting along the metropolis setting of the game you just checked out of in alarm. A certain white trench coat wearing giant walked along the screen, only to stop and turn to face you. Frozen in place, you watched as he walked head on in, getting closer when he started speaking in his usual snide, sarcastic tone.

"(Username) huh? To tell the truth, Y/n sounds better to say. How do I know your name, you ask? From your account profile, obviously." The roll of those piercing blue eyes was in character. The low soft words that came after were not. "I didn't mean to scare you off earlier. I was actually starting to enjoy myself around you. You're tolerable, at best."

The tri colored star shaped head of his rival peaked out from the side, guilt laced in his features, when he came in fully. "He won't bite you, if that's your concern. But, I too apologize for alarming you. We mean you no harm, Y/n. Honest."

The uncertainty of this meta phenomenon taking place before you was mellowed out at the sight of THE rival pair acknowledging you. Pinching yourself hard to smacking your cheeks to make sure you weren't in lala land now.

Dopamine and endorphins came hand in hand as their eyes widened in astonishment at the way your entire expression lite up, covering your now squealing mouth, not wanting to draw unwanted attention from your folks, your lips curving peaking out beneath your hands. It's all real.

You spent the remainder of that night asking them anything and everything you ever wanted to tell them, curled up in bed, smiling dazedly, lost in the nostalgic fuzzy experience that is these self aware anime baes, bouncing off each other in prideful, sparky conversation. The corner of their eyes caught sight of you sound asleep, Yami smiling tenderly at the sight and Seto's eyes giving off the same aura.

The following week since that night, you felt more energized and motivated than you have in a long time. You were curious if any other fellow players experienced such a phenomenon. Being able to interact with them, actually talk to them outside the contrivances, even offline was a relief. Even your old dead TV was brought to life by the sights of the vibrant series setting; Domino City. Numbers, Dueltaining, Links, and beyond. The world of dueling was seemingly endless.

"Artificial intelligence is more real now than ever. Not to mention virtual reality. So it was only a matter of time. This game is experimental proof of that self awarness. Not all of us are that bright, though."

Joey's pinched face cameo over that comment didn't go unnoticed by as evidence by Seto's snide face. Mai dragging Joey off screen to see kisses literally flying off in the background had the CEO turn pink at the PDA.

"I'd rather glimpse into the real world to broaden my knowledge. Every single being that's connected to us gives us insight. Getting to know you Y/n has been the best experience in all of it."

Waving to Yugi, Jaden and Yusei driving recklessly on the latter's duel runner in the off distance made you crack out a laugh. The charmin smile Yami gave at the sight of your expression caught your eye, turning you a bashful pink, to which he deeply chuckled in kind.

But even you need a break every now and then. You have bad days. And by bad, it gets BAD. Constant styes or eye irritations. Circulation issues in the feet. Swollen ankles. Depression, stress and many intrusive thoughts becoming hyperactive in that tired scarred mind.

Demented suffocating folks. Dysfunctional argumentative drama. And you? Walled up in their corner, feeling years older than their actual age, self pity and self hate over this defective body. The thoughts of self made wounds made on every defective part of you brought on tears every time.

So, fights like the one you just experienced today brought tears, swelling, and the truth to light. Your own fault for believing your own flesh and blood would provide genuine professional help, for the body and mind. But all they can afford is gaslighting, dogpiling criticism. Slamming doors, holing up in your room and blasting tunes through your ear buds was your only affordable escapism.

Black, blue and red glitches overtake your phone. It all happened in such a blur. Layers of warmth swallowed you whole, brushing away those tears, as you felt your face pressed gently against such support, protectivness enveloping you.

"Now that's just bullshit. Everyone’s flawed. If you count me and my many attempts at dethroning my one and only rival myself as one, go right ahead. Point being, screw them. You're genuine. Flaws and all ... you're perfect."

"You should never feel ashamed of yourself or your appearance. You should feel comfortable in your own skin. Regardless of what others choose to believe, your own feelings matter the most. When I look at you, I see nothing but a goddess in my eyes."

Digital character gaining form in reality before you changed things. Just as soon as they were there, they were gone, leaving you fuzzy or better ... and for worse?

The rare times when you had to go out on trips or even taking walks by yourself around your area meant you waving your phone around, being their window into more of your life. Even giving a room tour meant them blushing at spotting chibi plushies of them on your nightstand; their egos rising at further proof of you being smitten with them.

Only when everyone else in your household went to bed would you go hogging up the living room couch and be on your laptop and phone to get lost in watching your movies, shows or whatever to lift your spirits. Yet these late night binges bring with them chronic headaches that would kick in during your all night bends, leaving you closing your eyes and falling sound asleep to drive off the pain on top of your flared up feet covered in cold compresses.

Your laptop flickered and buffered in distortions as whatever you were watching is halted as entities literally come out of your screen. Warmth brushed your flushed cheeks, rubbed your scalp to soothe your aches, rewarded by your hums of content, as murmurs of their names parted your lips, causing the seed of possessiveness to grow at such a rate.

"They don't deserve your tears. They don't even deserve you. None of them are worth it. Unlike them, you've always been deserving of greater and better things. And I'll make sure of it."

"Please dream sweet dears, my dear. It hurts me to see you like this. Things will get better ... they will be better ... you will not suffer alone anymore."

But all good things come to an end. And this was no exception. For there came that time when you were in so much agony, suffering to the point where you wanted the rest of your ignorant home to suffer with you. Eyes too Strained to open. Feet too swollen to walk. Even your neck and scalp were stiff in pain. Your own body fell apart and all you could do was cry in silence, stuck in bed, as you just wanted to be free of it all.

A cold storm raged outside, tipping things over the edge. Your phone vibrating and dinging with notifications were left unchecked. The various reports of disapperances over your fellow real life players and the like. The strong voices of your kings calling out to you were left unanswered as you were too still and quiet.

So they animated right out of your phone screen. The eye of Udjat glowing as the Pharaoh dealt the fatal blows. Thrown furniture exploding. Glass shattering. Ear shattering screams cut off midway. Gurgling cries of agony follow right after. Thumps hitting the floor. The tall shadow of his megalomaniac partner covered your frail weak body as he carefully took you in his arms. It was now or never.

"Seto, are you sure about this? Bringing an actual human over to our side is too risky. Her body will not survive it."

"Please. My next gen solid vision system is visionary. Finding you across dimensions, for example. Connecting others across time and space through dueling has broken boundaries. Linking the cerebrum of those that have accessed my side project app has allowed us to view everyones memories and knowledge of our counterparts in this world has expanded our reach. Sharing our energy with her shall give the strength she needs to cross over. And besides, you practically begged me to take her with us from the start."

"Don't tell me THE Seto Kaiba is jealous about sharing me with another now. As if dragging me out of the afterlife wasn't enough for you. Part of me is still wrapping around your experiment on cross dimensional expansion. Regardless if we're just avatar copies based on fiction, we're still alive. We're past the point of no return. I just hope Y/n will understand."

"Take me ... take me away from here ... please."

Your consent was the trigger. Crimson met solid hologram as their combined hold made you feel at peace at last, blue and golden energy seeping into you, falling fast asleep. The next time you woke up, all the pain left your body, replaced with such looseness. Such levity. Basking in the endless streams of code and ethereal light. The faces of many familiar characters standing about among those like you that now obtained their virtual anime counterparts.

Smothered in between such defined sturdy bodies to remind you of your situation, your heart hammered on in the blue eyed and violet eyed gazes of your two Kings gazing down at you with such fervor, pristine looking with no signs of crimson staining their attire, right before they both layered gentle kisses all over your face. Their sculpted veiny hands held each of yours, tracing your very real skin, squeezing them to assure you that this is all happening. Tears of joy filled your healthy e/c eyes and giggles filled their ears as the sight of you brimming with happiness made their own hearts tremble at the hold you have on them. And vice versa.

Reshaping the future of dueling outsides the confines of an app game takes so much work, you know. Gaining sentience and all that. And it means everything to them to have you there with them for their journey across the Yu-Gi-Oh! multiverse. Hand in hand in hand. For life. These two Kings have finally found their Queen.

"Welcome home."

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reveryfics · 1 month ago

Note

Hii ! I have an idea ;) for Loki !

I do/did a lot of panic attacks and sometimes you feel so lonely in that moment, everybody is welcomed to help you or talk to you, even if you don't really have the capacity to respond. So, in this theme, can you make a scenario where Loki is on Earth for bad reasons, his kingdom project yk, and when he starts to scare everyone with his corns and powers, he saw ftm!reader in a corner. Reader is having a panic attack, because of the sudden chaos, plus everybody is trying to run away and push him away. Loki doesn't know him, but for some reasons he goes help him.

Thanks for reading me 🎀 have a good day/night

Oh and ! I wanted to say, I'm french so..sorry for the mistakes, i try to learn as best as i can english

Clarity

Pairings: Loki x FtM reader

Summary: Admist the chaos that surrounds New York, you feel trapped like everything is closing in on you. Despite Loki's plans, he can't help but offer something anyone would least expect.

A/n: I love doing your requests, I smile everytime I see you sent one! I personally have had panic attacks, but I know it's different for everyone so I hope this does it justice. Perhaps a pt. 2 in the future?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The cacophony of terror assaulted him. Screams pierced the air, a chilling symphony of fear and despair. Dust choked the lungs, a suffocating blanket against the already chaotic sky. Buildings, once titans of steel and glass, now lay in fractured ruins, their skeletons mocking the city's former grandeur. New York, the heart of a nation, was bleeding, its pulse weakening with every shattering crash. The once vibrant metropolis, a beacon of hope and progress, was now a battlefield, a grim testament to the fragility of civilization.

He, a mere speck in this maelstrom of destruction, lay sprawled on the cold, unforgiving concrete. The world tilted, a dizzying carousel of chaos. The weight of the crowd, a monstrous tide, had crashed over him, leaving him gasping for breath, his vision a blur of dust and blood. Panic, a venomous serpent, coiled around his chest, constricting his breath, stealing his sanity.

His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat echoing the city's own demise. Each thud was a hammer blow against his already fragile mind. The world narrowed, focusing on the suffocating pressure in his chest, the icy tendrils of fear gripping his throat. His breath came in ragged gasps, shallow and inadequate. The air, thick with smoke and the stench of destruction, seemed to cling to his lungs, suffocating him.

His vision blurred, the edges of his world darkening. He felt a detachment from reality, as if he were watching himself from a distance, a detached observer in his own personal hell. His mind raced, a whirlwind of terrifying thoughts: Was this the end? Would he die here, crushed beneath the weight of falling debris, swallowed by the chaos?

The screams of the injured, the cries of the dying, the deafening roar of collapsing buildings – they all blended into a terrifying cacophony, assaulting his senses, driving him further into the abyss of panic. He felt a wave of dizziness, the world tilting precariously. He tried to ground himself, to focus on his breathing, but the fear was too strong, too overwhelming.

He was drowning, not in water, but in the suffocating terror of the moment, the helplessness washing over him like a frigid wave. He felt a surge of adrenaline, followed by a chilling wave of weakness. His limbs trembled uncontrollably, his body shaking with the force of the panic attack. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the grime coating his skin. He was a leaf caught in a hurricane, tossed and turned, utterly insignificant in the face of this overwhelming force. The screams of the city, a haunting chorus, echoed in his ears, a constant reminder of the horror unfolding around him.

Then, a hand, strong and steady, reached out, pulling him from the abyss. Loki, his face etched with a grim determination, gazed down at him, his eyes mirroring the chaos, yet holding a flicker of something else – compassion.

Loki saw himself reflected in the other's eyes – the fear, the helplessness, the crushing weight of despair. He remembered being a child, lost and alone in a world that seemed intent on tearing him apart, a world where pain was a constant companion. He understood the suffocating grip of panic, the way it could steal your breath, your sanity, your very soul. He remembered the paralyzing fear of uncertainty, the feeling of being utterly alone in a sea of chaos.

"Can you hear me?" Loki's voice was a low rumble, a comforting anchor in the storm.

He could only nod, his body trembling, his mind still reeling. The panic attack was receding, leaving behind a lingering tremor in his limbs and a profound sense of exhaustion.

Loki, despite the chaos swirling around them, the city crumbling at their feet, felt a surge of protectiveness. This young man, broken and lost, mirrored his own reflection in a shattered mirror. He saw the raw fear in the other's eyes, the same fear that had haunted him for so long. He felt a deep-seated need to protect him, to shield him from the horrors of this day.

"Allow me to help," he murmured, his voice a gentle current in the raging torrent. As he guided the young man through the debris, Loki felt a strange sense of calm descend upon him. In the midst of destruction, he had found a purpose, a chance to offer solace, to ease the suffering of another. And as he looked back, a fleeting smile touched his lips. "Wait for me," he whispered, his voice carried away on the wind, "our paths will cross again."

The city groaned, a wounded beast bleeding out onto the streets. Dust motes danced in the shafts of light piercing the smoke-filled air, illuminating the wreckage of what was once a thriving metropolis. Amidst the chaos, Loki stood, his gaze fixed on the horizon, a solitary figure against the backdrop of devastation.

He thought of the man, his face pale and drawn, eyes wide with terror. He remembered the warmth of the man's hand in his, a fragile connection in the face of overwhelming chaos. And then, he thought of the look of quiet desperation in the man's eyes as Loki helped him navigate the treacherous terrain of the ruined city.

A strange calm descended upon him. A sense of clarity, unexpected and profound. The years of deceit, of manipulation, of chaos – they seemed to fade away, replaced by a newfound sense of purpose. He had found meaning in the act of helping another, a flicker of goodness amidst the darkness.

Days later, Loki stood before the Avengers, his hands bound, his expression inscrutable. Iron Man, his eyes narrowed, demanded an explanation. "Why?" he boomed, his voice echoing through the stark, metallic chamber.

Loki looked at them, at the faces etched with suspicion and distrust. He saw the reflection of his own past in their eyes – a history of betrayal, of broken trust. "A sense of clarity," he replied, his voice a low rumble.

The Avengers exchanged confused glances. "Clarity?" Captain America echoed, perplexed.

Loki did not elaborate. He had found clarity in the act of helping, in the unexpected surge of compassion that had washed over him. It was a fragile seed, perhaps, but it was a beginning. And that, he realized, was enough.

#fanfic #fanfiction #mlm #queer fanfiction #third person #x male reader #xmalereader #gay #gay fanfiction #marvel #x ftm reader #ftm reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel loki #loki x male reader #loki laufeyson #requested

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waksworldrebooted · 9 months ago

Text

THE FULL MOTORCITY PITCH BIBLE GOT LEAKED

It’s been a while since I posted anything Motorcity related but here we are with this thing: the full unedited extended Pitch Bible from Chris P.

Special thanks to The Media Busters for finding this:

Motorcity: Series Bible (Revised 2/15/11)

Logline: In the future, charismatic tyrant, Abraham Kane, is taking over Detroit, transforming it block-by-block into his insidious city of tomorrow: KaneCo Deluxe. But one thing stands in his way: the Burners! Led by the charming and impulsive daredevil, Mike Chilton, this band of hot-rod wielding rebels fights to protect Motorcity - the last oasis of freedom - from the power-hungry Kane and his endless army of technological terrors. Motorcity is a high-octane animated action-comedy that celebrates freedom and independence with cool cars, great action, and dynamic heroes who stand up for what they believe in.

Motorcity: Live Fast. Live Free.

Remember the feeling you got when you first had the chance to drive? The power? The freedom? That’s what Motorcity is all about. It’s a high-octane animated thrill ride, pitting futuristic cars against terrifying robot technology, rival hot rod gangs and the nefarious power-hungry villains lurking in their own backyard!It’s the story of Mike Chilton, a teenage hero, and his struggle to prevent the evil Abraham Kane from achieving the complete and total domination of his hometown – Detroit. It’s a show for people who love to drive or can’t wait until they can.

The Situation

THE CONFLICT: Motorcity is the story of the BATTLE FOR DETROIT!

Detroit has been split into two separate sections of the same city: KaneCo Deluxe, a floating city of the future owned by evil industrialist, Kane, where freedom and cars are abolished, and Motorcity, a vibrant underground community built within the bones of old Detroit where people are free to live as they please. Kane desperately wants control of Detroit- wielding power over KaneCo Deluxe isn’t enough. He needs to wipe out the last patch of resistance and claim Motorcity as his own to complete his vision.

OUR HEROES: Mike Chilton and his band of rebels, The Burners.

THEIR MISSION: To protect Motorcity, the last oasis of freedom, from the evil reach of Abraham Kane, a power-hungry tyrant hell-bent on taking over all of Detroit so he can transform it into his insidious city of the future – KaneCo Deluxe.

Mike and The Burners are charming rebels that share a lot in common with the original “Champions of Justice”: Robin Hood and His Merry Men. To put it simply:

Mike = Robin Hood

The Burners = Merry Men

Our heroes hide out in Motorcity (Sherwood Forest), devising plans to take down Kane (Sheriff Of Nottingham) and bring freedom to the people of Motorcity (Nottingham).

Julie (a Burner with a secret: she’s Kane’s daughter) = Maid Marian (she straddles the worlds of Deluxe and Motorcity

The Feel and Tone

Action! Freedom! Speed! FUN!

When you strip it all down, Motorcity is about the joy of racing around in tricked-out cars, fighting robots, and racing your rivals. It’s FUN! Dang it! And we never want to lose sight of that.

Mike has the ability to look a life and death situation in the eye and find the fun in it. Every day is a high stakes battle, but Mike’s impulsive approach to any problem is what makes him unique. It’s not that he doesn’t take his fight with Kane seriously – It’s the heat-of-the-moment, seat-of-his-pants way he that makes him Mike!Get ready for an eight-cylinder action-comedy road trip through the fast lane of futuristic sci-fi...

The World

KaneCo Deluxe

Perfect, but boring. Kane’s futuristic metropolis is cold and uninviting. The gray and white shell envelops the “engine” of the old city underneath. It’s the veneer that hides the multiple cables, wires, pipes and guts encapsulated in Motorcity that power all of Detroit. Floating “living room” pods carry the Deluxe citizens from apartment husks to factory complexes to food distribution centers and back. The pods recharge as they dock. They only go where the computer sends them. There are no sidewalks. There is no freedom. No one decides where and when to go – they just do as they’re told.

The KaneCo Deluxe citizens all work for KaneCo - and if they question Kane’s methods, they don’t dare say anything about it for fear of their safety. As long as they do what the great leader, Abraham Kane, says, there won’t be any trouble. This includes participating in the war effort against Motorcity and the Burners – who, according to Kane, want nothing but to take away their safety and replace it with chaos and anarchy!

Motorcity

Underneath the sprawling megacity of Deluxe is a vibrant community of freedom-loving farmers, engineers, artists, mechanics and warriors. Although they live underground, these Motorcitizens are happy and free. This underground world is colorful and organic – a meld of nature and technology. A harmonious blend of old and new. Mike and the Burners use the immense power lines and data cables as roads to traverse the distances of Motorcity, as well as the remnants of the old highways and roads that haven’t been destroyed by Kane.The people of Motorcity are frequently under attack by KaneCo’s forces. Kane often sends his seek-and-destroy robots – he calls them his Safe-T-Bots – to eradicate enclaves of humanity nestled within the city’s inner workings. Some Motorcity citizens respond by building up highly defensible fortress dwellings to protect their beloved city. While some hide or stay mobile, there others who rise up and fight to protect what they’ve built for themselves down there. They don’t have to play by Kane’s rules and they want to keep it that way. Motorcity is a nurturing oasis for creativity, danger and fun.

Mike is the leader of the Burners – the primary force of resistance against Kane – but there are other gangs and groups in Motorcity. They are mostly unorganized and fight each other more often than they pose a threat against Kane. Mike and the Burners regularly go on scavenging expeditions to the oldest reaches under the city to find the parts needed to build and maintain their vehicles. They also raid Kane’s power plants and technical facilities buried under the city for advanced electronics and other futuristic tech. Kane’s biggest weakness is that his enemy lives in his own basement. They can attack his soft underbelly without warning.This is a constant source of frustration and anger for Kane!

The mechanics of KaneCo Deluxe and Motorcity:

KaneCo Deluxe is a giant supercity – about 175 miles across. Good thing the Burners’ cars can drive so fast! 500mph gets you around Motorcity quickly, especially with no rush hour...The pods up above travel just as fast - but no one ever gets within 10 miles of the city’s border. Since no one can control a pod, no citizen has ever even been close. And just in case someone tries, there’s a force field trapping everyone in. The view from the edge of town is completely obscured by a giant holo-projection of a depressed wasteland. This is what Kane has fooled the people into believing. There’s nothing worth it out there. Everything worth having is within the walls of KaneCo Deluxe. There’s a lot of danger out there and we need to protect our borders! All utility and power systems that run KaneCo Deluxe are buried in Motorcity. The Burners and other pockets of Motorcity dwellers draw what power they need from these massive generators. The immense tubes that provide energy, water, ventilation, communication and sewage are used by the Burners as a network of tunnels and highways to travel underground - as well as provide access to the maintenance hatches needed to sustain KaneCo Deluxe.The Burners have figured out ways to hack into these maintenance systems to not only get in and out of Motorcity, but to throw Kane off their scent as well. When Security Bots are on their tail, the paths of the massive tubes can be switched – just like the switches of old fashioned train tracks. The Burners know these tubes and tunnels better than anyone and Mike has learned to be unpredictable – to go left when it’s logical to go right. The best way to outwit a robot is to think like a human!

The Characters

Mike Chilton

(bravery, guts)

AFFILIATION: Burner

TITLE: Leader - he’s the man in charge of the Burners, and the man behind the entire resistance against Kane. He’s got a tough challenge ahead – both in fighting Kane, and managing the unique personalities of his team.

IS: a cool, quick-witted, funny, gutsy, impulsive 17-year-old who generally has things under control and doesn’t take much seriously (except for, of course, his mission to take down Kane). Mike never does things the easy way – he does them the fun way! That means leaping BEFORE looking, jumping into the water without testing the temperature.

Mike is naturally gifted. He doesn’t have to try to be exceptionally good, he just is. He is the guy who doesn’t care about winning the trophy, but he has a closet full of them. This effortless skill is what attracted Kane’s attention and what makes him such a tough opponent.

STRENGTH: His daredevil spirit – it usually gets him out of trouble.

WEAKNESS: His daredevil spirit – it usually gets him into trouble.

WANTS: speed and adventure. New experiences. And most of all... Freedom! For everyone! That means saving his people – the citizens of Motorcity. Mike wants to keep Motorcity out of Kane’s clutches so they don’t become drones to the Deluxian way of life and lose their precious freedom, or even worse, be destroyed if they refuse to submit. The Burners are the people’s only hope, and Mike isn’t going to rest until Motorcity is truly free.DOES NOT WANT: BOREDOM! Complacency! Mike likes to DO. Why waste time talking about it when he could be done before the others stop flapping their gums? IF HE WAS A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a machine gun

FAMILY: None known

RELATIONSHIPS:

MIKE AND KANE: Mike used to be a cadet in Kane’s Ultra-Elite Forces Training Academy - he believed in KaneCo Deluxe and felt it was his duty to protect the people. Mike was the top of his class, tackling every challenge or fight with reckless abandon – none of the other cadets had the courage, the guts or the skill to keep up with him. Kane saw something special in Mike and took him under his wing. He had BIG PLANS for our boy. But when Mike discovered what Kane was really up to (you know, EVIL), he knew he had to break rank and take a stand. Both Mike and Kane feel BETRAYED by one another, which makes their struggle for KaneCo Deluxe and Motorcity extremely personal.

MIKE AND CHUCK: They’re best buds. They’re opposites, but they need each other. They have each other’s back – no matter what...

MIKE AND JULIE: They’re very close, but not that close. There’s nothing romantic going on between them – at least not yet...Mike doesn’t show his vulnerable side too often, but when he does, it’s almost always with Julie. He confides in her. Fears, worries, hopes and dreams.

MIKE AND JACOB: Pupil and teacher to a degree. Jacob offers up sage advice, and Mike does his best to follow it.

MIKE AND THE BURNERS: They’re a makeshift family and oil is thicker than blood. Mike would do anything to protect his team and vice-versa.

RIDE: Mutt – a retrofitted 70’s Muscle-Car with four turbine tri-pulsor engines, a slew of energy weapons, a grip of gadgets and a 21st century chopper hidden between the exhaust pipes!

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Guts. Oh, and also a SKULL-HEADED DUAL-BLADED SPARK STAFF (think laser-sword meets flaming chainsaw!)

Chuck

(brains)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Tech Guru / Mike’s co-pilot

IS: Mike’s best friend and sidekick, as well as an automobile aficionado – he knows everything about every car ever made ever- schematics, engine specs, performance ratings, etc. However, he is also terrified of the “speed” and “danger” associated with them. (Come to think of it, we never see him driving...) He reluctantly rides shotgun with Mike on most missions, even though he’d much rather avoid conflict altogether.

STRENGTH: Thanks to his big ol’ brain, Chuck can always find an escape route or a solution to a technical problem in a pinch. He performs well under stress and terror, even though he hates it. Although he's usually terrified of the situation Mike has put him in, he is incredibly loyal and will never bail on him. Chuck is also constantly improving the Burners’ computer and security systems.

WEAKNESS: AAAAAAHH! Easily scared. Overly-cautious. Anal retentive. Always fiddling with the computer and security systems!WANTS: To survive driving around with Mike. To stay home and play “Laser Swords” on his computer. To win Claire’s heart. And secretly – to be more brave.

DOES NOT WANT: To man the gunner controls (but he will if he has to!). To “go in for a closer look.” To go skydiving.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a force field

SECRET: He doesn’t know how to drive! As much as Chuck loves cars, he’s just too scared to get behind the wheel. He’s able to keep the gang fooled by telling them he refuses to drive anything other than a Remote Control Car until he finishes building his dream car - the fastest, sleekest, most high-performance automotive machine the world has ever known. Of course, building the ultimate hot-rod will take years. And years. And years...

FAMILY: Chuck’s parents live in KaneCo Deluxe. They have no idea that Chuck is a Burner. They think he’s a Hover Repulsor Interface Technician at KaneCo.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CHUCK AND MIKE: They’re best buds. Chuck would do anything for him.

CHUCK AND DUTCH: Chuck engineers cars. Dutch builds cars and repairs them. Chuck is very precise and anal-ytical – a perfectionist. Dutch is not – he’s an artist and creates on the fly. When these guys have to collaborate, things get a little tense.

CHUCK AND CLAIRE: Chuck has a BIG crush on Claire. Claire thinks Chuck is G-ROSS.

CHUCK AND TEXAS: Oil and water. Legolas and Gimli. Nothing in common, except for their Burner patch and friendship with Mike – who often bridges the gap between them.

RIDE: “Umm... it’s in the shop.”

WEAPONS/SKILLS: Master Hacker. High-Tech Slingshot. Advanced trigonometry

Julie

(heart)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Intel-Gatherer / Gal on the Inside / Illusionist / Moral Conscience

IS: a bright, empathetic girl who sees good in even the worst people. She’s less quick to shoot than Mike, but when she does, she’s accurate and lethal. Julie is a master of stealth, infiltration, and espionage. She’s both feminine and tomboyish, has a smart, sarcastic sense of humor, and is quick on her feet – she has to be, because she leads a secret double life...

EARTH-SHATTERING SECRET: Julie is Kane’s daughter – and NONE of The Burners know. She tells them she is able to gather intel on Kane’s nefarious plots because she’s a “KaneCo Intern.” And, of course, Kane has no idea that Julie is hanging out with those ne’er-do-well Burners.

STRENGTHS: Chameleon-like ability to blend into any environment. She has the rare gift of being accepted into Deluxian society and the Burner World. She can access the highest levels of KaneCo headquarters without breaking a sweat. She also knows her way around a hologram projector – she uses her illusions and decoys to evade capture when she’s running with the Burners. Julie also possesses a great moral compass and lets the gang know when they’ve gone too far.

WEAKNESS: Her secret identity. Can’t let her father know she’s a Burner, and can’t let the Burners know she’s Kane’s daughter.

WANTS: Harmony. She also wants her father to realize that what he’s doing is wrong. She wants to maintain her relationship with her father AND her affiliation with the Burners – a delicate balancing act.

DOES NOT WANT: anyone to get hurt.

WORRIES THAT: the other Burners are having fun without her when she’s up in KaneCo Deluxe.

IF SHE WERE A WEAPON, SHE’D BE: a sniper rifle

FAMILY: Kane is her father. Her mother passed away when Julie was an infant.

RELATIONSHIPS:

JULIE AND KANE: Kane loves his precious, little girl and would do anything to keep her safe. He wants to protect her from everything – which is one of the main reasons he built KaneCo Deluxe in the first place.

Julie still believes there’s good in Kane and doesn’t want any serious harm to come to him. What he’s doing may be evil, but she still thinks he’ll come around in the end. But until that day, she has to do what she can to help the people.

JULIE AND CLAIRE: BFFs since kindergarten. These days Julie sometimes has trouble relating to Claire’s Deluxian lifestyle. But Julie uses her old friend as a sounding board for everything she can’t tell the Burners about.

RIDE: Nine Lives -A modified mid 21st century police cruiser. Her ride can produce decoy hologram-cars to throw pursuers off her trail, cloak to near invisibility, and deploy smoke screens, oils slicks and electromagnetic pulse mines. Also has a high precision Sniper Beam under the hood.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: Espionage. Natural charm. Can manipulate Tooley with ease. Able to keep the Burners focused on the mission at hand. Extensive knowledge of flash grenades, smoke bombs, and other electro-explosives.

Texas

(Muscle)

AFFILIATION: Burner ROLE: Texas handles anything that involves exploding, crashing, or smashing things with his head.

IS: Slightly stupid. Somewhat lovable. And REALLY violent! Powder keg. Won't think twice about punching anything. Dedicated to the team and be the first to the battlefront when a fight breaks out. He is not a voice of dissent. He's gung-ho. He's a cheerleader. He's raring to go! Hell yeah!

SECRET: Really wants to be leader of the Burners. No… believes he WILL BE leader of the Burners!

STRENGTH: Strength

WEAKNESS: Brain. Ego. Self-confidence bordering on delusion. Likes to brag about qualities he does not possess but thinks he does. WANTS: To move fast and smash stuff. To be Mike. But unlike Mike, Texas wants to be recognized for his awesomeness.

DOEST NOT WANT: To wait. To solve problems by “talking it over.” And big words!

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: Trick question! Texas IS a weapon!

FAMILY: His parents live in Motorcity, where Texas was born and raised. His father plays the harp. His mother is a Professor of Women’s Literature.

RELATIONSHIPS:

MIKE AND TEXAS: Hero and understudy. Mike doesn’t know it, but Texas wants to be him.

TEXAS AND CHUCK: Oil and water. Muscle and smarts. Polar opposites.

TEXAS AND DUTCH: Fire and gasoline. Any dumb idea Texas has is always encouraged by Dutch.

RIDE: TEXAS - Not unlike George Forman, Texas has named his car after himself – because it is clearly the best name for anything awesome. Cobbled from the best late 20th century Italian sports cars, TEXAS is equipped with massive air-powered battering pistons, ram plates and hydro drills. Relies on physical weapons such as his roof-mounted grappling hook and the battering ram which is revealed by splitting open his front grille.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Laser nunchucks. Strong-ness. Massive neck!

Dutch

(creativity)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Guerilla artist and mechanic

IS: the Burner’s creative spark. Unable to take the oppression of KaneCo Deluxe, he ran away to Motorcity to make art in peace. Now he fights against Kane’s forces to keep from losing his newfound freedom. Dutch is wary of Deluxe – he’s glad to have escaped and hates going back, even to fight Kane. He’s mistrustful of others - until he gets to know you; then he has your back for life.

STRENGTH: Ingenuity. Ability to make something out of nothing. First-rate mechanic. Makes the Burners and their cars LOOK GOOD too.

WEAKNESS: Dutch tends to be an island. That’s how he got his name – because he goes it ALONE. But Dutch can’t resist getting caught up with the Burners. It’s too much fun and he gets to build all sorts of crazy stuff. Sometimes he cares a little too much about his art. Dutch doesn’t take criticism well, so do NOT criticize his work or tell him how to do his job. Just don’t. Trust me.

WANTS: To be free to create and express himself in peace

DOES NOT WANT: To hear what you think about his art.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: A spring-loaded bear trap

FAMILY: His parents live on surface but they don’t keep in contact. They totally buy into the KaneCo lifestyle and think their son is a criminal.

RELATIONSHIPS:

DUTCH AND CHUCK – Chuck works on the cars’ circuitry and computer parts. Dutch focuses on the physical workings. Chuck is an anal-retentive nerd who wants everything done a certain way. Dutch can’t stand those kind of restrictions. He’s going to do it his way or no way at all. This causes friction. A lot of it.

DUTCH AND TEXAS – Dutch is a bit of a prankster and is constantly egging Texas on to do really dumb things (like talk to hot girls, lick a battery, chew on tinfoil, or super-glue his hat to his head).

DUTCH AND JULIE – She’s cool, but he doesn’t understand why she can’t just give up her meaningless life in KaneCo Deluxe and live in Motorcity full-time like the rest of them. It gives him doubts as to her true intentions.

DUTCH AND CLAIRE – People like her are EXACTLY why he left that Deluxian wasteland in the first place. Yechhh!

RIDE: The Scorpion Sting - A mid 21st century hot rod that’s in a constant state of modification. He’s switching the color and welding new things onto it every episode. The speakers incorporated into the Scorpion’s body transform into his “SONIC SPITTER,” that can shatter armor plating with ear-splitting sound waves. Dutch’s car also carries

ROTH – a multi-functional robot who helps with the car mods and field repairs.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: McGuyver-esque building talent. In charge of TRAPS. Wields a weaponized SOCKET WRENCH, which he has modified to serve as a mace.

The "Sonic Spitter's" description was not given unfortunately

Jacob

(wisdom)

AFFILIATION: Burner

ROLE: Advisor, chef, and crazy old uncle type

IS: a hippie type in his mid-60’s and Kane’s former partner (a relationship that ended when Kane got all megalomaniacal and what-not). Jacob can’t quite keep up with all these young whippersnappers, so he’s taken on a more advisory role in the group: cooking them organic meals instead of the processed food bars they serve in Deluxe, counseling them on missions, and helping them out however he can. But don’t underestimate him just because he’s old and likes mung bean stew – he’s still got some driving left in him! And he’s chock full of scientific and technological knowledge, too, if you can sift through all of the organic food talk.

STRENGTHS: Cooking (according to him), experience, and knowledge of Kane. And a pretty dang good helicopter pilot and great when you need a tow.

WEAKNESS: Cooking (according to Burners). His back. The gout. Enlarged prostate. He’s not as young as he used to be…

WANTS: To see a truly free and safe Detroit, the way he and Kane envisioned it before Kane went off the deep end.

DOES NOT WANT: The music up too loud. New technology. To be forced to live in Kane’s idea of Detroit.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a musket

RELATIONSHIPS:

JACOB AND KANE – Jacob and Kane worked together in the past. In fact, they co-founded KaneCo, hoping to create a safer, more peaceful world. But they had a falling out about how to use the technology they created. Kane turned on Jacob, ultimately labeling him an enemy of the state. They’re like Obi-Wan and Darth Vader. Magneto and Dr. X. One stayed righteous as the other spiraled down a dark path.

JACOB AND MIKE – Yoda and Luke. The man who has seen it all, and the up-and-comer with tremendous potential and a lot to learn.

RIDE: The ’57 Sasquatch - A 20th century chop top, jacked up on monster truck tires with a modified tow truck bed for a rear end.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Garden hoe. Compost. Juicer. Wisdom. Organic mung beans.

Claire

AFFILIATION: Deluxian

SERIES ROLE: Represents the average Deluxian youth

IS: Julie’s “valley-girl” best friend and confidant. Claire serves as a sounding board for Julie to discuss the problems she can’t discuss with the Burners – primarily, her secret life as Kane’s daughter.

STRENGTH: The amount of KaneCoins in her bank account, shopping prowess and super-hotness.

WEAKNESS: She’s obnoxiously prissy, is grossed out by the Burners and is pretty useless unless you need someone to go to the mall with.

WANTS: To live her nice KaneCo Deluxe life surrounded by her KaneCo products without having to suffer the antics of those dirtbag Burners Julie insists on hanging out with!

DOES NOT WANT: To be stuck in Motorcity for any length of time. Especially with that creepy Chuck!

FAMILY: Daughter of prominent KaneCo executive.

RELATIONSHIPS:

CLAIRE AND JULIE – Best friends. Claire is the only person who knows Julie is leading a double life as Kane’s daughter and a Burner. Even though she doesn’t approved of these new friends Julie has and the cause they fight for, she goes along to support her friend- Julie usually has a pretty good sense of what is right. She may not like the Burners, but she’s a true and loyal friend to Julie, no matter what.

CLAIRE AND CHUCK – Chuck is into her…she does NOT feel the same.

CLAIRE AND THE BURNERS – She only hangs out down there because of Julie. They are gross and smelly and hate everything good, like KaneCo products! She doesn’t see what Julie sees in them…and she hopes it’s just a phase.

CLAIRE AND KANE – She’s a KaneCo fangirl and Kane loves her. She’s just the kind of friend and role model that his daughter needs. Claire only WISHES she could be Kane’s daughter. Julie is TOTALLY LUCKY!

RIDE: her bedroom - a standard KaneCo living pod.

SKILLS AND WEAPONS: KaneCo credit. Consuming. Good use of rouge.

Abraham Kane

AFFILIATION: KaneCo

ROLE: Founder and CEO of KaneCo. Homicidal tyrant.

IS: An evil industrialist and megalomaniacal madman hellbent on capturing all of Detroit. Which means getting rid of the entire Motorcity population living in the bowels of his precious Deluxe. Which means WIPING THEM ALL OUT. And to add insult to injury, he has fun being evil.

STRENGTHS: Charisma. Unlimited resources. Technological Terrors. Master propagandist. Complete lack of remorse.

WEAKNESSES: Puts all of his faith in his technology. Consumed with wiping out the Burners and everyone in Motorcity.

WANTS: To get rid of those filthy Burners. And control-control-control. Kane’s got big plans for KaneCo Deluxe, and they don’t involve anyone living underneath it and gumming up the works. He won’t rest until everything with a pulse is removed from Motorcity and it is his to further his vision of complete domination.

DOES NOT WANT: Anyone to have fun outside of the predetermined box. Anyone living beneath KaneCo Deluxe. Anyone joining the Burners. And most importantly – to let anyone else have control of anything.

IF HE WERE A HISTORICAL FIGURE, HE’D BE: Vlad the Impaler. With just a hint of Joseph Stalin.

FAMILY: Julie is his daughter. His wife died a long time ago.

RELATIONSHIPS:

KANE AND MIKE: Mortal enemies. Were once like father and son. Now each sees the other as a backstabbing traitor who broke his heart. He wants vengeance against Mike at all costs! No one betrays Abraham Kane!

KANE AND JULIE: Believe it or not, Kane does love his daughter. And at one point in time, she was the whole reason he started KaneCo Deluxe. But nowadays his reasons are much more nefarious, and Julie clings to the hope that she can restore her father’s humanity some day. Kane sees Julie as a child, a fragile egg that needs protecting. And protecting means an ivory tower and isolation, not a father’s love. Their relationship is cold. Kane doesn’t even bother to know Julie and the bright and caring young woman she’s become. He keeps her at arms length at all times.

KANE AND JACOB: Co-founders of KaneCo. Were once like brothers. Then Jacob began to see Kane as a despotic maniac with no moral compass, and Kane began to see Jacob as a naïve idealist who has no idea what it takes to run a corporation.

KANE AND TOOLEY: Tooley may be an imbecile, but he possesses one quality that is very important to Kane – loyalty.

RIDE: He would never get near a car, but sometimes grabs the controls of whatever technological death machine he pits against the Burners.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Safe-T-Bots and other Robots. Slaughter Pods. Doom Drones. Threats and intimidation. Eventually, the “Teenage Assassin.”

Tooley

AFFILIATION: KaneCo

ROLE: Lackey and mindless thug. Think Barney Fife, but bigger and dumber. Picture Gilligan if he could beat you up.

IS: a lovable goon and uber-KaneCo fanboy who has earned his spot at Kane’s side by being unwaveringly loyal. He has totally bought into the KaneCo way of life and he’ll do whatever Kane says without ever being a threat to Kane’s power…except for when he tries to impress his hero and his plans go horribly awry. Or when he’s watching cartoons on the job and the Burners sneak past him. Or when the Burners outwit him and lock him in a closet. Or when he tells Julie anything she wants to know and gives away Kane’s secret plans. You get the picture.

STRENGTH: Brute strength. Has seen every episode of the “Robot Walrus”.

WEAKNESS: He’s even dumber than Texas. Easily manipulated, especially by Julie. Usually watching “Robot Walrus” when he’s supposed to be working. WANTS: To please Kane and to make Julie his ladyfriend for life.

RELATIONSHIPS:

TOOLEY AND KANE – Tooley is Kane’s obedient lackey. Kane knows he’s dumb, but unlike Mike Chilton, he’s LOYAL. Tooley LOVES Kane and wants to be just like him, but unfortunately lacks any of Kane’s skills.

TOOLEY AND JULIE – Their names rhyme! That means they’re meant to be, right? That’s what Tooley thinks. If it were up to him, they’d have a beautiful KaneCo wedding and honeymoon right there in beautiful downtown KaneCo Deluxe and have lots of babies at the KaneCo Maternal and Neo-Natal Complex. Unfortunately for him, Julie’s not buying it.

TOOLEY AND THE BURNERS – Tooley is to the Burners what Sergeant Shultz was to Hogan’s Heroes. He’s incompetent and that’s what allows them to infiltrate KaneCo as often as they do.

TOOLEY AND “TEENAGE ASSASSIN” – Tooley can’t see why Kane needs this tool—he’s already got a TOOLEY! He resents the need for extra muscle…especially muscle with brain. Teenage Assassin can’t believe Kane keeps an imbecile like Tooley around. Needless to say, they don’t get along.

RIDE: a standard KaneCo security pod.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Fists. Futuristic police baton

Gabriel ("Teenage Assassin")

AFFILIATION: KaneCo ROLE: Kane’s new Number One IS: Terrifying.

STRENGTH: He’s like a cold, calculating version of Mike. All skill, no humor.

WEAKNESS: None known WANTS: To destroy Mike Chilton. To please Kane.

DOES NOT WANT: To Lose.

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: one of those new state-of-the-art automatic rifles that can shoot around corners.

FAMILY: Unknown

RELATIONSHIPS: Unknown (but here’s a Top Secret tidbit: he used to know Mike)

RIDE: a modified, weaponized KaneCo security pod.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Force field gauntlets. Anything else that gets the job done.

Duke of Detroit

AFFILIATION: Himself

ROLE: Scoundrel. Rogue boss.

IS: a shadowy, charming, manipulative figure based in the Deep Reaches of Motorcity who has a hand in anything and everything he finds useful. Those that know of the Duke know he’s not a dude to be taken lightly – or dealt with at all! A deal with the Duke usually costs a lot more than you bargain for. There’s probably a great story behind his mouth full of metal teeth, but he’s not telling.

STRENGTH: finding weak spots. Manipulation. Coercion. Political genius. Making offers you can’t refuse. Street smarts, especially in the world of Motorcity.

WEAKNESS: Vain. Addicted to material wealth. Wouldn’t hesitate to stab his own mother in the back.

WANTS: Free reign over Motorcity. Constant entertainment, usually at the expense of others.

DOES NOT WANT: Conflict with Kane – that would endanger the good thing he’s got going!

IF HE WERE A WEAPON, HE’D BE: a tommy gun

FAMILY: Unknown

RELATIONSHIPS:

THE DUKE AND THE BURNERS: Mike and the gang know better than to trust the Duke, but sometimes they have no choice. The Duke has clout, whether you like it or not.

THE DUKE AND MOTORCITY: He’s friendly to civilians until it’s time to pay what you owe. Then the creepy metal smile disappears. The Duke keeps people in line by offering them sadistic pay-per-view style combat events, which he stages in his own Motorcity stadium.

THE DUKE AND KANE: Mutual understanding. They sometimes even work with each other when there’s something in it for both of them. A war between them would seriously threaten their respective empires.

RIDE: An early 20th century Bentley tricked out with gangster flare and armed to the gills.

WEAPONS OF CHOICE: Spiked baseball bats. And a mouth full of metal teeth.

Q&A

WHO/WHAT IS MIKE PROTECTING?

Mike and the Burners are all that stands between Kane and complete domination of Detroit. The Burners are defenders of Motorcity, and they’ll fight to the bitter end to keep Kane from getting his clutches on this last remaining bastion of freedom.

Ultimately, Mike is protecting people’s freedom. The freedom to live their lives the way they see fit.

WHY DOES KANE WANT DETROIT SO BAD?

Because it will give him POWER. Power to create his city. Not the city that the people want, but the city that they need.

Power to protect himself. To control. To crush those who would dare betray him.

Kane grew up in poverty in old Detroit. Surrounded by crime and decay. He never felt safe.

Working on the automobile assembly lines saved him from the streets. It gave him order and structure when everything else in his life was chaotic. Much like Henry Ford, the assembly-line mentality made a huge, and not altogether positive, impact on his thinking. He started seeing people as parts of a vast machine, not free-thinking souls. He determined excessive freedom and free choice was what was ruining Detroit. And he began to dream about what Detroit could be if he was in charge…

We like to think of Kane as sort of an anti-Bruce Wayne. Both were scarred at a young age by the ills of their cities. Both passionately dedicated their lives to making their cities a better place. And both went a little overboard: One going the hero route, dressing up as a Bat to clean up the streets. One opting for the dictator tract, ruthlessly acquiring power and subduing opposition to forge his “better world”.

IF KANE FAILS TO TAKE OVER DETROIT, WHAT DOES HE LOSE?

Obviously power. Deep down, Kane is afraid of being that powerless kid on the street. He NEVER wants to return to his old life.

Which is why Kane can’t allow the citizens to control their own lives. In his mind, freedom is just another word for everything to lose. Freedom leads to chaos, collapse, and ruin – just like in Old Detroit. He needs the power to control everything, make all the decisions, and ensure people dictate their lives by his singular vision.

And nothing poses a bigger threat to his power than the existence of Motorcity. If he fails to conquer that subterranean, freedom flaunting rat-hole, the roots of liberty could take hold and spread like noxious weeds through his precious Deluxe. Not to mention, those scumbag Burners will continue attacking Kane’s Deluxian tree at its roots, dismantling the future city’s underground power stations and infrastructure.

WHAT DO PEOPLE IN MOTORCITY FEEL ABOUT MIKE AND THE BURNERS?

Most citizens view Mike and The Burners as heroes. But there are some who see them as punk delinquents whose Kane-agitating antics bring unnecessary hardship on their neighborhoods.

Motorcity is also home to other Revolutionaries; rivals who believe the Burners are getting in the way of their plans. Or think Mike’s tactics are too soft – they are particularly disturbed by the fact that he considers the well–being of Deluxians when crafting plots to stop Kane.

WHAT DO DELUXIANS FEEL ABOUT MIKE AND THE BURNERS? WHAT DO THEY FEEL ABOUT KANE?

Though most of the people in KaneCo Deluxe are not truly happy with what Kane has provided, they don’t dare say so. Most of them fall in line and accept things the way they are. Anyone who sympathizes with the Burners does so privately, unless they have a death wish. And on the opposite side of the issue are a few who, like Claire, seem to have been duped by Kane’s promises and slick presentation.

WHAT DO PEOPLE IN MOTORCITY FEEL ABOUT KANE?

The consensus in Motorcity is that Abraham Kane is a real *%$#!

But as Motorcity isn’t exclusively populated by the morally upright, there are some who would be more than happy to sell-out to Kane for special privileges or payment.

HOW WILL WE SHOW THAT LIFE IS GOOD FOR DELUXIANS?

Citizens of KaneCo Deluxe receive three square meals a day, state of the art living quarters, and a steady job that’s guaranteed not to be outsourced. There’s no traffic. No crime. No poverty. What’s not to like?!

HOW WILL WE SHOW THAT LIFE IS BAD FOR DELUXIANS?

The three square meals are pre-selected by KaneCo, and usually consist of unappetizing fare like “throat cubes”. The living quarters are more like drab prison cells. And the jobs are, well… pretty much slavery. Workers are expected to report to work whenever the KANECO CHIME is heard. (Much like a prison siren or the school bell between periods.) Everything is scheduled. Everything is controlled. You don’t have a say.

WHAT OTHER “NON-TOOLEY” ALLIES DOES KANE HAVE ON HIS TEAM?

Kane is constantly surrounded by henchmen and hangers-on, some of whom have their own secret agendas in mind:

There’s a “Dutiful Sycophant” who laughs at his jokes and kisses his butt, but is secretly vying to take him down and seize control of Deluxe. A deadly, ubertalented “Teenage Assassin” who seems even more driven than Kane to wipe out Mike and The Burners. And we’ll introduce others as our season progresses…

ANY ONE ELSE INTERESTED IN “THE BATTLE FOR DETROIT”?

There are some unsavory characters lurking in the bowels of the city, but none more devilish than the DUKE OF DETROIT. A crime-boss of sorts, his only interest in the Battle For Detroit is figuring out how he can spin it to his advantage. The Duke has his sights set on extending his influence in Motorcity. And he sees Mike as a valuable tool – aligning himself with the rebel hero could score him big PR points with the people.

On the other hand, the cutthroat Duke is no dummy. He knows Mike’s moral code could really interfere with his plans. So from time to time, he’ll do what it takes to keep the kid in line – which sometimes means allying himself with Kane. After all, in the end, the Duke’s only real allegiance is to himself.

There are also other interested parties and forces at work outside of the domed Deluxe that we can weave in and out of the seasons as we progress. Rival CEOs, Criminals, and Shadow Organizations that attempt to lend support to Mike’s cause in hopes of accomplishing their own agendas.

HOW DOES KANE WAGE HIS WAR AGAINST MOTORCITY?

Primarily with brutal force, terrifying technology, and fear. He has an endless army of Robots at his disposal that he unleashes daily to bombard Motorcity. He has a seemingly infinite arsenal of wicked ways to stick it to the people. But his horrifying laboratory creations usually present the biggest challenge for our heroes and the poor citizens. Like the time he pumped an ever-expanding, flesheating Sulfuric-Acid Foam Gel into Motorcity, a concoction designed to rapidly dissolve all living, organic material. Yikes!

Sometimes Kane is so blinded by his thirst for power that he pursues incredibly risky plots that end up putting himself and all of Detroit in danger. Like when he forces his R&D lab into morally unconscionable territory in the hopes of creating the ultimate Attack-Bot, and ends up creating a hybrid bio-mechanical creature that promptly escapes and starts “cocooning” Motorcity and Deluxian citizens.

Kane often focuses his attention directly on our Burners, developing BurnerSeeking Death Drones, hiring bloodthirsty Bounty Hunters, or luring the rebels out of their underground lair by callously using citizens as bait.

Of course, The Burners aren’t just going to sit around waiting for Kane to unleash his latest plot. They’re always looking for ways to take the fight to his doorstep and destroy his plans before they get off the ground. Like when they attempt to infiltrate his top secret, insanely dangerous weapons factory with the help of Kane-Co Safe-T-Suits. Or when they smuggle out Kane’s top alternative-fuel physicist to avert nuclear-scale disaster.

#motorcity #waksworldart #waksworldrebooted #julie kane #mike chilton #chuck motorcity #texas motorcity #dutch gordy

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