#gonna try to decide on a design for the main characters tomorrow

[heartsyncproductions]

Guess whose making a gay pirate game that is also vaguely inspired by the little mermaid if the little mermaid was also a trans allegory instead of a just gay one (and also about pirates)

Anyway this is my progress shots for Velox Fabula 2 Game Jam so far! Finished three backgrounds + 3 time variants (day/sunset/night). I also have a few thousand words written so far, as well as the basic in game UI screens (still need to find a font I like + adjust the text alignment)

This is probably all I'm going to post about it until it's finished, but I'm super excited for it!

[dextixer]

Performative Slacktivism - Or how CRWBY and the FNDM want brownie points without putting effort into actual representation

(Also, how the FNDM keep using Montys name for petty arguments like the ghoulish fucks they are)

I know that we all are waiting for tomorrows episode and the moderation team is already gearing up for a possible shitshow depending on what the episode decides to do. But today i have noticed a bit of an old discussion rearing up again that i really wanted to adress.

I think i will not be out of line to say that RT is a shit corporation. But that alone does not bother me too much, shit corporations are common in our day and age. What always got to me is how RT kept pretending to be progressive, how they put on a show of being pro LGBT+, pro people of colour and the like, and yet their products have for the most part been devoid of actually showing that.

Sure, the creators will SAY that they are LGBT+, and then take FIVE and TEN years to confirm a single lesbian relationship (Of one which is for side-characters). And they will include a trans character after SEVEN years of production (Only to later be revealed that the person who voice acted that character experienced shitty behaviour at work in regards to their identity).

They will SAY that they are pro people of colour, only for the four main characters of the show be so white they glow in the dark and most dark-skinned characters either being relegated to background characters, antagonists/villains and/or being stereotypes until 4 years after the start of RWBY, Oscar was created? Or should i mention the piss poor writing of their racism allegory and the WF, which is very much created based on the Civil Rights era in the US? Writing so shit that it somehow manages to spread alt-right messages without intending to?

What im trying to say is that RT are and always have been fake ass progressives. They arent even rainbow capitalists, even rainbow capitalists (like Disney) do more than RT. RT does not even bother to put even THAT much effort.

RT wants brownie points for being progressive while being ANYTHING but. That would be bad enough, but the rabid Fandom that RT has cultivated seems to be intent on doing EXACTLY the same.

This is the first tweet that i saw on the topic. Yang is Chinese? Since fucking when? Shes whiter than the fucking white bread i make sandwitches with. She is whiter than the fucking snow! Instead of "using ones brains" maybe you will use your eyes?

This lead me to more brainrot than i could ever post here, so i will only post a few of the comments that i saved before i felt my brain leaking out of my fucking ears.

It seems that most of the "arguments" around Yang being Chinese center around her name (Which, by the way is written in the OPPOSITE way than it should be). Which in my opinion is quite a stupid fucking argument considering that my last name from my mothers side is part Polish and part German (Not gonna post it for obvious reasons), but im pretty fucking sure i aint Polish OR German.

The other argument is that both Yang AND Ruby have Chinese culture in their designs? Let me remind you that Ruby wears a gothic Lolita outfit, wields a Scythe and if i am not misremembering had a fucking cross around her neck. What about THAT is chinese? The ONLY argument there would be that Ruby has Japanese inspirations due to the gothic Lolita outfit. Scythe is associated with European conception of death (And as a farming implement) and the Cross is in the same category. Not to mention that Ruby is based on an European Fairy tale of the Red Riding Hood!

Yang on the other hand is based off Goldylocks (Another European fairy Tale) and has associations with Beauty and the Beast (Yet ANOTHER European fairy Tale). Nothing of what she wears has any distinguishable style. In fact Yang is so generic you can put her anywhere in the world and it would most likely fit.

Also, "Her name references a martial artists" thing really reeks of fucking whiteness. Yes? It does? How is that relevant? If i am named after a martial artist im suddenly Chinese now???

There is also another very unsubtle sinophobia, when talking about the Branwens being Japanese to prove that Yang is Chinese... I know that to Americans regions very much become blurred but holy shit, the LACK of thought that China and Japan are not the same just because they share a race is...... Its fucking insane...

The only partially valid argument i have seen is that people of White colour can also be Chinese/Japanese or come from any part of the world. Which is fair. IN THE REAL WORLD. This aint the fucking real world! This world of Remnant is created! They dont even have our countries! Mistral has a mix of Japan/China/Greek aesthetics.

JUST LOOK AT THEM! The supposedly "German" Weiss somehow has MORE colour than the "Chinese" sisters! Blake is the only one that has actual colour in her cheeks (And is STILL white). Ruby and Yang look like they would glow in the dark if i turned off the light! They would make a fucking shut-in blush with how pale they are! They are whiter than the milk in my fucking Cereal!

And you know what makes me mad? Because the show COULD have made these people actually have features of people of colour. Blakes Parents live on a TROPICAL ISLAND! Why the fuck is Blakes skin not olive or even darker? It COULD have been! But it isnt! IF Yang and Ruby are Chinese, where the hell are there ANY identifying features of them being Chinese?

The reason is simple. RT DOESNT CARE ABOUT REPRESENTATION! IT does not give a single solitary shit on a sunny summer afternoon about progressivism. The main 4 characters of the show are 4 glow in the dark white girls voiced by.... White women! (Yknow, its funny how they say that Yang is chinese and then full on not even acknowledge the good old chestnut of "Minority roles should be given to minorities")

I hate these fake progressive fuckers from the bottom of my heart. These people are more interested at licking the boots of a shitty corporation than actual representation! There is no argument, no LOW these fanatics will not sink to as long as they can worship a capitalist corporation, and im sick and tired of them pretending to be progressive. Because they fucking aint.

Also...

I hope that the fandom who weaponizes Monty. Burns to the ground. Previously, i did not care about V10 being greelit. I would not mind if it got greenlit or not. But when i see shit like this, all i wish is for V10 to never be greenlit. So that ghoulish corpsedigging necromatic fucks would fuck off.

Imagine using Monty as a cudgel for petty internet arguments. The fandom is a shithole, and they can PRETEND to be nice all they wish. But everyone can see these fuckers act like this.

[pyrriax]

hai tumblr i think tomorrow i will work on. art. or web stuff..... im on a lil bit of a kick of web stuff rn so i think i might do a lil planning for the terralith (story) site !! its gonna be a . big undertaking since im gonna work on coding + art for it from scratch. but! it'll be worth it i think! it'll be fun to have something to point to and be like "yeah if you wanna see my current main project look here :3"

im still planning to work on a more personal site too for housing more of my fannish work and other non-story ocs (and maybe some more personal stuff... id love a place to collect photos of my fav things & for some other things like. maybe a little redux of the system stuff i originally had on my old site [which is still up but i might pull since most of it is broken... ive learnt my lesson about image hosting i swear] depending on what i decide is the most fun. im debating whether i go the route of having a relatively consistent appearance (like im planning to do with terralith) or if i let the pages themselves kind of dictate the appearance (more like my old site, which is a bit disjointed but its a little charming... i need to separate out a section of that site since it's actually a story / character project for wtds)

art-wise i think im probably going to see if i can hunt down a good base to actually hammer out the Designs for a lot of the characters ive been working on - they all have a general concept in my head but they dont have anything too solid. either that or i'll try and work on improving the reference for elyria.. i want to have most of the reference stuff done in time for art fight since im planning to participate for at least a week of it (although it will probably involve adjusting refs for old characters as well. some of them are super outdated and i need to add in notes for ones like tyler since ive changed how i draw him)

who knows! its like 2am im tired and hopefully the power doesnt keep going out tomorrow 🙏

[miztrixx]

KIMI GA SHINE - THE MASTER ANALYSIS - Chapter 1-1: Introduction of Sara and Joe! (SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 3-1B)

So you know what I said about this being a daily thing..? I broke the streak on day 1. Well, I’ll try to keep a better record from here on out. Because now we’re gonna analyse the scene that introduces our protagonist, Sara Chidouin! And her best friend, Joe Tazuna!

Right from the get-go, without any much deliberation we are introduced to the protagonist, Sara Chidouin! Sara is probably the most important character in the game, as any protagonist should be and is a great character in her own right! Although Sara appears as a model student/uptight, we do learn that her inner monologue is slightly sarcastic talking about how the pond could be a useful thing for a loner.. and we’ll see a lot of this characterisation, a representation of her more light-hearted and kind side rather then the fierce and leadership side of her that is less present in this early characterisation of her. But we do see a glimpse of it!

Sara’s ID No. is “SAMURAIONNNA” which translates to “samurai woman” and is also her main theme. This small little thing is just a sprinkle towards Sara’s defining character trait of being very leaderlike and a strong person! There is an extra N, possibly to make the ID No. be an anagram for “MINNA ASUNARO” which means “everyone is asunaro” which is another bit of foreshadowing to how the participants are connected to the Death Game from their pasts. But no time to dwell on the future cause here comes Joe Tazuna!

From the very moment you meet him, Joe’s character design, his sprites and the way he talks to Sara very obviously conveys the tone and vibe of his characters. He’s a laid-back, upbeat guy who always tries to lighten the mood! It’s interesting how Sara is initially paranoid seeing his shadowy figure near the entrance of the school. Probably mistaking it for Kai/the stalker which this as well as the fact that Joe decides to walk Sara home is some small hints at the fact that Sara probably has a stalker, something which is revealed in the next scene. Although Joe tries to mask this with light-hearted banter about how he came to back to brag to Sara about his date with Ryoko.

Speaking of Ryoko! The whole conversation between Joe and Sara about Sara introducing her [Ryoko] to Joe is fun to watch in hindsight with the extra knowledge of how that all went down in the Sara minisode. For now, though, that’ll be it! I’ll see you all tomorrow…

Also, a small detail to mention is that when Sara sees Joe's silhouette at the gate not knowing that it's Joe. We get to see a bit of her red text inner monologue with the line "Someone's there...". This is the first introduction we get to the other aspect of Sara, her self-preservational and distrustful side. This aspect's dichotomic nature with Sara's more selfless aspect creates one of the main focuses of Sara's character (and the themes of the game in general), throughout the game. We'll see more of it later...but for now, I'm signing off.

[cerealmonster15]

Give me A D and L of your Twisted OCs do it

ty for always enabling me and my twst crimes despite not twsting yourself kjdsfj 🧡

also tagging @cosmiccoincidence ty for the double enabling WOO

ok here's the sketchy whatever i did 2night, was gonna do some basic colors but i got sleeeepyyyy so maybe tomorrow ill do that lol

HEHFHSFEHFJK anyway. alda beloved none of this will make sense to u so ill try to give spark notes explanations as i go but. these two goobers are rsa [royal sword academy - the rival school that seems to be more based on the Good Guy™ disney characters rather than the main school's villains lol] students.

the very short summary is guy on left (Char - I looked thru sooo many names for him and that's the one i ended up on lol. some twst names are really on the nose like VIL for the EVIL QUEEN so why cant i use char!) is cater diamond's [a canon character who's said to have moved around a lot] childhood friend from when they were like 5 but lost contact w/him. Dañarte (literally not a name. it's spanish for 'hurt you' and it only came up/his existence spawns from a typo turned autocorrect in a message i was sending my frined and we just kept it for funsies and i made a character out of it lol 😭) is his shady cousin that has a charming friendly appearance but is going to cause problems on purpose bc hes a bitter baby or whatever.

i have a lot more details w/them and their connection with BESTIE CATER but that's not what the ask was about so i will HOLD BACK!!! for now.

ok answering the actual questions under a cut bc blahblahblahblah

A) Why are you excited about this character?

because!!! i see a lot of people make really creative twst ocs based off other disney characters and i think that's SO FUN!!!! i dont really think i myself am very creative of a person, but this was something i kinda got to have fun with. i had the initial thought with char based off one random fanart I saw like forever ago, so i borrowed the starting idea and then just completely ran off with it to do my own thing, SPIN MY OWN WEB!!!! [i think the fanart was like, just some random rsa guy recognizing cater; it was japanese fanart so i had limited google translate on my side - idr if the childhood friend thing was part of it or if that's just a thing my brain decided to fill in the blanks?? anyway i went from there / designed my own random guy / started LORE BUILDING and EXPANDING]

also their involvement is very much a soap opera esque TEEN ROMANCE DRAMA which i think is funny. a lot of this came from just talking to my friend in discord cuz there was no engtwst at the time and she was the only person i knew that i could talk to about twst, so even tho these are my characters, it's something that spawned from me going ham in our discord messages and us bouncing ideas off each other and just havin private fun. unrestrained goofs!!!

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

HMMMM well according to all the doodles i'd compiled in one spot, it does look like i just went with my initial ideas for both of em and kept it. they r not that deeply thought out bc i am Not much of a designer - god bless the school uniform i could steal so i didnt have to come up w/clothes kfjlsdf. and tbh theyre pretty basic right now so for all i know, maybe this is the prototype. maybe they've yet to go through their first evolution. WHO KNOWS!!!! but in their case, their existence came more from the SOAP OPERA DRAMA storyline i came up with, and wasn't so much based on appearance/character design. i mostly just had doodles and sketchy concepts just so i could continue to doodle parts of said story for funsies to send my friend on discord lol

BESTIE THERE IS NO L!!!!! instead of asking u what u meant im just gonna assume u meant I since lowercase L looks like uppercase I 😌 SO YOU'RE GETTING I!!!

I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?

ya lol. this 'story' is very much based off like a few lines of canon lore that i just SPRINTED OFF with. drag and dropping these 2 guys into the story - not really related to much of the main story, but just kinda there to cause more teen drama. for funsies.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR ASKING LOVE U BOTH BYE!!!!!!

[x]

[clippedwingsmuses]

ooc: new ooc icons are still a wip but!! i thought i'd go ahead and show what i've got cooked up so far! i think i'm going to use these as the basis for all of my icons on this blog, cause i'm kinda attached to the design to be honest, but i'm considering making the main square a little bit smaller so i might have to widen the icon itself (theyre supposed to be 50x50 but tumblr is making them bigger even tho ive got icons with the same dimensions...........)

i've done a lot of rambling for this post, so i'm going to be putting all of the extra info i have typed out under the cut! (extra info includes some fun facts about these icons, new muses i'm bringing to the blog, the status of my icon making, etc.)

first off, yes i'm using song lyrics for these icons; i'm gonna try to make the icons have song lyrics from their theme songs that i picked out (which includes my icons, the lyrics are from nothing by catie turner bc its a song that i resonate with a lot)

and yes im also using pride flags for these icons!! the amount of pride flags may fluctuate based on my character headcanons, so the amount will vary between just 2 and all 4 of them; the flags in my icon in particular, in order (top to bottom), are transmasc, boyflux, uranic, and the 2019 polyamorous flag

anyways, i'm going to work on the rest of my ooc icons tomorrow! i will also get to work on editing all of my character icons...... it's going to be a hellish process (primarily because surge and twilight have well over 150 icons i'll have to re-edit) but that's the joy of running a multimuse is icon making lol, and i kind of miss doing it

my main 4 characters (kieran, kitsunami, wanderer, & kokichi) will have their icons done first since they are priority characters. i will slowly work on everyone else's icons as i go. all of my muses will still be available! they will just be iconless for the time being

i'll be using a mix of my old icons and new icons until all of the new icons are done (old icons will be used if that character's new icons aren't done yet) and all of my new muses will get the new icon style right away!

with that being said, i want to announce the new muses here since i haven't made a proper post about it (or i deleted it lol); the brand new muses i am bringing to this blog include rose quartz (and pink diamond), lapis lazuli, boyfriend, and kinitoPET!

additionally, i have taken a look at my considerations list and i have decided that i will officially be bringing puss in boots, discord, and bonnie to the blog! the newest muse up for me to consider is amethyst, so she has been added to the list in replacement of the others that i'm officially taking on or removing

speaking of removals, i've decided to remove mordecai and mystery from my considerations entirely, as i cannot effectively play them until i fully invest myself in learning their lore in its entirety (i was planning to play them primarily based on just the lackadaisy pilot and the msa episodes, but that's not the best course of action i can take right now)

so yeah, i think i'm finally done rambling now! with all that being said, i am 100% going to be active tomorrow! as always, every meme in my memes tag is open to be sent to the askbox, and i'll work on responding to roleplays or sending out unprompted/meme things inbetween my icon making (based on whoever is active), so i'll see you guys tomorrow! (after i finish my daily artfight attack ofc lol)

[songbirdsingingthings]

Girls Day - Shoto Todoroki

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Work for you this week was grueling to say the least. Your agency had assigned you to lead a coalition of heroes to take down a group of villains holding hostages, which for you was no problem. What was a problem, however, was the fact that some of the heroes in your group got sloppy which led to some of the hostages getting injured. Thankfully none of the injuries led to fatalities, but a couple came pretty close. This stuck you working in your office for four days straight writing up paperwork and detailing exactly how everything happened. You knew you had no fault in this, and so did your superiors, but you were technically responsible for those who did make mistakes. 

After you finally finished dotting the last i and crossing the last t, you scanned and faxed the documents over to your higher ups, stuffed any necessary paperwork that involved other agendas into your work bag, and finally, finally, turned off your laptop. You took a deep breath and ran a hand through your hair, but stopped halfway when you got a call on your cell. You see your good friend, Ochaco Uraraka, soon to be Ochaco Midoriya, is the contact listed as calling. 

“Hey Ochaco, what’s up?” You asked, fatigue clear in your voice.

“Hey Y/N! Nothing much, I was just wondering if you were free tomorrow! I was thinking of having a girls day - you, me, Momo, Tsu, Mina, Jirou, and Hagakure! You in?” Relishing in the idea of a relaxing day off, a smile spreads across your face.

“Hell yeah I’m in. Where are we all meeting?” You say as you simultaneously begin to shut off the lights in your office.

“Well, those new outlet malls just opened up, I was thinking of heading there! There’s sure to be a lot of cute things, maybe you could get something for a date night with Todoroki!” You blushed lightly as she mentioned your boyfriend’s name and rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, well, we both have to have time off for a date night to happen in the first place. You know both of us well enough to know that we’re workaholics.” You joke. It was true to an extent, though. Both you and Shoto were busy people whose work schedules, more often than not, didn’t line up. The two of you made it clear to each other when the relationship started that you couldn’t really get mad at eachother for occasionally canceling dates or having dinner late. The life of a hero was tough and erratic - you couldn’t really count on when a villain was going to strike.

“If Shoto Todoroki sees you wanting to have a date night, he’s going to make it happen. Add a fancy outfit to that? Girl, you’re set.” You laugh at Ochaco’s statement and lock your door, making your way to the elevator. You give parting smiles to the people still working at the desks on the main floor and a quiet wave to your receptionist. You continue to chat with Ochaco about fun ideas for the day tomorrow like where to eat, if you were going to get your nails done, and maybe heading to the brand new spa. 

“Oh, that just sounds like heaven. I’ve been dying to get a massage - I’ve been stuck at my desk for the past few days and my shoulders are absolutely killing me.” You open the big glass doors that belong to your agency, finally making your way outside to where a certain red-and-white haired man stood waiting with a bouquet of (your favorite flower). Your face immediately softens and you give him a giddy smile. “Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back. I can’t wait for tomorrow!” You and Ochaco say goodbye and you hang up. 

“Who was that?” Shoto asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Ochaco,” you respond as you stuff your phone into your coat pocket, “the girls and I are going out for a girls day tomorrow.” you announce happily, leaning into Shoto to give him a quick kiss. You trade your bag for the flowers, at his insistence, and take his free hand in yours.

“That’ll be nice - you deserve a nice day out.” Shoto says, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. You hum in response and smell the flowers, sighing at its aroma.

“What about you? Do you have to go in tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but it’s a short day for me,” he says, “just finalizing some recruitments for internships.” You smile at his words.

“It’s so great that you're doing that Sho,” you say, “I remember how happy I was when I got to go intern for Hawks. I probably didn’t stop smiling for weeks.” Shoto chuckles at that.

“Yeah I remember. You were practically buzzing with excitement.” Recollection of another memory crosses his mind which makes him laugh harder.

“What?” You say, grinning.

“I remember you calling me and telling me how Tokoyami basically had to shut you up because Hawks was too nice to tell you to stop talking when you were on a mission.” At this point he was cackling. You laugh with him and swat him with the flowers causing some petals to fall away. 

“Ugh that was so embarrassing,” you say, watching Shoto wipe a tear that had escaped as he was laughing, “the hue of my face was practically identical to your red hair.

The drive back to your shared apartment was full of laughter and more memories from your time at UA. When Shoto finally confessed, when your relationship became official, and all the silly moments in between. You finally arrive home and the two of you decide to have leftovers for dinner and watch a movie on the couch. You were so perfectly happy at this moment. You and your boyfriend, unwinding at the end of the day. The fact that you were so comfortable with living with each other now that you could be slouched on your couch, eating leftovers right out of the tupperware, and watching a stupid rom com on T.V. . 

Finally it was time to go to bed. Your eyes were already shut by the time Shoto finished washing up and you feel the dip in the mattress beside you. It was quiet as you were wrapped in his arms. Well, quiet until Shoto nudged your shoulder with his chin.

“Take my credit card when you go out tomorrow.” He says quietly, pressing a kiss against the back of your neck.

“Shoto Todoroki, I will do no such thing.” You mumble, eyes still closed.

“Please?” He asks quietly, making you melt a little, “I want tomorrow to be completely relaxing. I know you credit yourself as a smart shopper, but I want you to just spend whatever you want on anything you want.” He says as he nuzzles you.

“Sho, I make almost as much as you - I can go shopping with my own card.” You respond. However, his next few words make you agree rather quickly to using his.

“The one I’m giving you is tied to my father’s bank account.”

“...Okay deal.”

By the time you wake up the following morning, Shoto is already gone. You stretch your arms and back and groan. You push the stray hair in front of your face behind your ear and see a little note next to a danish and a silver credit card.

“Breakfast for you, my love. Have a great day. Also, I booked a reservation at that fancy restaurant in town that you like for 7:30 p.m. . Go crazy with the card, my father won’t even notice. Love, your Shoto.”

Your heart always flutters when he writes you letters and signs them with “your Shoto”. It’s a sweet affirmation that you have his heart. You nibble on the danish as you scroll through messages on your phone, the most recent ones from Ochaco and the girls.

Mina: We’re meeting at the outlets at 11:00 a.m. right?

Ochaco: Yup! Get excited!

You eventually roll out of bed and stroll into your closet, looking at the array of clothes hanging up. You decide on a casual yet chic outfit and get dressed. You grab the coffee waiting for you on the counter in the kitchen, yet another gift from shoto, stuff Endeavor’s credit card into your purse, and make your way to the outlets by taxi. When you finally get there, you see that the whole group is there. You thank and pay the driver quickly and rush out to meet up with your friends.

“Y/N!” they all say, giving you a big hug.

“Hey guys! Wow, it’s so great to see all of you here together - I can’t remember the last time we all met up!” You say, grinning. As a group you all make your way into the mall, stopping by some high end boutiques and designer stores.

“How’s the fiance?” You ask Ochaco, wiggling your eyebrows. She gives you a smile as she looks through some of the skirts hanging on the rack next to her.

“Oh, Izuku’s great. Couldn’t be more excited about the wedding, if I’m honest.” She says giggling. The two of you talk about the wedding planning and everything for a bit, listening to Ochaco gush about how involved Izuku is with the process.

“What about you Y/N? Any wedding bells in your future?” Mina says, popping into the conversation. You blush and try to make yourself look busy by inspecting the hem on a shirt very carefully.

“Oh, I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, Shoto and I are going super well right now, it’s just that the both of us are so busy. I always thought that we would get married but I don’t really know about how he feels about it.” The girls quirk their eyebrows at this, confused as to how the two of you hadn’t had a conversation about that yet. Quickly, you clear everything up. “I just don’t want him to think of his parents’ predicament - I mean that was his first view on marriage, and I know that he knows that that’s not how marriage works, but I feel like it might be a touchy subject.” The girls nod and give you reassuring smiles.

“Oh Y/N, you have got to try the dress on. I mean, it’s made for you.” You hear Momo say. You follow her gaze to a mannequin and couldn’t even try to hold back the gasp that left your mouth. It truly was beautiful. The dress was navy in color and was clearly made of an expensive material. The sleeves, which were long sleeves, were also sheer and dotted with small pearls. On the mannequin as well were matching shoes and a bag. You just couldn’t keep your eyes off of it. It was so expensive, in fact, that you had to ask the store manager directly to go into the back and grab you your size so that you could try it on. You had to say, when you put that dress on, you felt like a million bucks. Momo was right, it really was made for you. Sliding the curtain back so that the rest of the girls could see, you didn’t even try to hide your smile as you saw the girls’ reactions.

“Y/N L/N, if you weren’t already taken I would pounce on you myself.” Mina says, making you laugh. You get similar compliments from the rest of the girls, making you smile, and taking the dress and the accessories up to the register. The woman there kindly wraps the dress, shoes, and bag carefully in tissue paper and places the three items into a pretty shopping bag. You had fun during the rest of the day, eating lunch, getting a mani-pedi, and a massage, but you couldn’t contain your excitement at the thought of wearing that dress to yours and Shoto’s dinner date that evening.

After your busy day of shopping, you immediately run home to shower. You had about an hour to wash your hair and body, making sure to shave your legs so that you looked totally put together that evening. You manage to do your hair in your favorite formal style, slip on your dress and shoes, and swing the small matching bag over your shoulder. You put on a tiny bit of make-up, just a light coat of mascara and a sheer layer of lip gloss. You look at yourself in the mirror and almost explode. You even had to admit it to yourself. You. Looked. HOT.

You finally make your way to the restaurant and ask the hostess at the front to direct you to your table. She led you to where Shoto was sitting, looking at the menu. As soon as he registers people coming towards him, he looks up but almost chokes. Seeing you in that dress almost made his eyes pop out of his head. He couldn’t even form a coherent thought as he mindlessly thanked the hostess and watched you sit down across from him. Smirking, you gently wave a hand in front of his face.

“Earth to Shoto! Is someone in there?” You said, giggling softly. The only thing Shoto could say was something that he had been thinking about for the past two years non-stop. With no filter and no reason to stop himself, he made that thought known.

“You wanna get married?”

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Wings

Intro: They say that once you’ve been inked, it kinda becomes an addiction…

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR STARK SPANGLED BANNER

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

 “Jamie, ”Katie sighed exasperatedly as her 9 year old looked up from where he was sprawled on the rug of the den, piecing his newest lego kit that Sam and Bucky had bought him for his birthday “You need to get your stuff for school.” “Don’t wanna.” he pouted.

“Tough.”

“I don’t feel well.”

“Oh no, really?” Katie bent down, feeling his head. “Hmmmm. You do feel warm. What’s wrong?” “Sort throat.” “Oh, well… that means no soccer practice tomorrow then…and you should go straight back to bed until I can take you to the doctors later today…”

Jamie paused and looked up at her and she raised an eyebrow “Nice try Pal.”  

“Mommmm”

“Don’t make me shout your father.” she used her ace card.

Jamie gave an exaggerated sigh and stood up, rolling his eyes. Katie bit her lip to stop herself laughing at the utter indignation on his face.

“It’s Friday dude.” she smiled at him. “You got all weekend to play legos if that’s what you wanna do.”

“Does that mean I can stay up late tonight to work on it?” he asked hopefully.

“Define late.” Katie looked at him.

“11?”

“Hmmmm, I dunno.” she said playfully.

“Please?”

“I’ll speak to your dad.” she said and he smiled at her, the pair of them both knowing full well that Steve was a soft touch when it came to stuff like that. He’d probably be there helping him out with it anyway.

“Ok Mom. Can you make sure Harry doesn’t touch it whilst I’m at school?”

“I’ll keep this door shut, I promise.”  Katie assured him.

He left the room and true to her word Katie shut the door to the den and watched him head up the stairs, passing Aurora who was on her way down with her rucksack, Steve right behind her with their youngest placed on his hip.

“Hi mammamama!” Harry babbled at her and she grinned, taking him off Steve and planting a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi baby!” she grinned as his hand instantly went to grab the chain of her necklace.

“Jamie not planning on going to school today?” Steve asked her with a grin as Rori headed off to find her shoes.

“Tried telling me he was sick so he could stay home and play legos.” she snorted “Soon decided he was ok when I told him that meant no soccer practice tomorrow morning.” Steve shook his head, smiling to himself.

“Daddy?” Rori tugged on his trouser leg and he turned his attention to her.

“What’s up Princess?”

“I can’t find my sneakers.”

“Where did you leave them?” he asked, his hand gently dropping to the back of her head.

“Erm…” she pondered for a moment, before she looked up at her mom bashfully.

“Somebody left them in the middle of the lounge…” Katie looked at her. “So the Fairies put them away.”

“Sorry…” Rori wrinkled her nose and blinked up at her mom.

“It’s ok. They’re on the shoe rack sweetie.” Katie nodded to the kitchen in the direction of the utility room located at the back of the house.  

“Thanks momma.” she said, running off to retrieve them.

“What time does Emmy’s train get in?” Steve looked at Katie.

“Just after twelve.” Katie said, blowing a raspberry on Harry’s cheek. “I’ll meet her and then take her straight to get inked…” Steve let out a breath from his nose. All Emmy had talked about since turning 21st was a tattoo. Steve wasn’t particularly sure he approved but then what could he do? She was an adult now. Katie hadn’t been bothered, but then as she’d pointed out, she had a big enough one on her thigh so it would be fairly hypocritical if she had. Emmy had won Steve over though when she’d asked him to draw it for her. She’d described what she wanted, a small Phoenix type bird that would sit just above her ankle. So after a few designs and sketches she’d finally settled on something she wanted and after a consultation she was having it done this afternoon.  

“You staying with her?” Steve looked at Katie, concern etched across his face. Katie gave a soft laugh.

“She’s a big girl now Steve but yeah, I’m gonna stay.” she said, tugging on his beard playfully.

“Good.” he nodded, jerking his head out of reach. “Do you need me to pick the kids up later or…”

“No, by the time their afterschool clubs are done we’ll have finished so I’ll do it.” she smiled as Rori came back, sneakers in her hand. She sat on the bottom step and proceeded to push her feet into the pink converse, Steve crouching down on one knee to tie her shoelaces for her.

“Thanks daddy.”

“You’re welcome sweetheart.” he said, dropping a kiss to her head before he turned to look up the stairs “Jamie! Come on!”

“I’m coming…” came the surly reply, and no sooner had they heard it he appeared at the top of the steps, rucksack in hand.

“Drop the attitude.” Steve said sternly as Jamie trudged down the stairs, scowling. Steve looked at Katie, raising his eyebrow as their eldest son stalked past them, heading to the door, Rori running behind him.

“Wait for me Jay…” she called, her small feet slapping on the tiles of the hallway as she went.

“Told you…” Katie said, smirking “He’s a mini you…”

“That filthy look he had on his face? That is a Stark expression.” Steve said, looking back at her as he picked Rori’s rucksack up.

“Is not.” Katie laughed “That’s the face you make whenever someone’s pissing you off.”

Steve gave a snort before he dropped a soft kiss to her lips, making Harry shriek.

“Kissy!” he laughed.

“See you later.” Steve smiled against her mouth “Love you.” “You too” she said, and with a last peck and a ruffle of Harry’s hair he headed after Jamie and Rori, barking out an instruction for them to quit their squabble over who was sitting in the front seat.

“Easy solution…” Katie heard Steve say loudly “You can both get in the back. End of discussion.”

Their protest’s died as the door snapped shut.

Katie chuckled to herself and looked at Harry “Shall we get you ready to go too baby boy?”

“Go!” he nodded, grinning. 

*******

Katie’s morning was reasonably easy. A meeting and a manuscript to review which she’d managed to do by half 11. Changing out of her office clothes into a loose pair of sweats, trainers and a hoody she headed out and made her way to Grand Central.

She spotted Emmy emerging into the main terminal and swept her daughter up into a hug.

“Hey mom.” Emmy said, squeezing her back.

“Ready to go get inked?” Katie asked, Emmy grinned and slung her satchel over one shoulder, linking her arm through her mom’s.

“You eaten?” Katie asked as they walked out into the early April sun.

“Yeah, followed the instructions.” Emmy nodded.

“Good.” Katie said. “Nervous?”

“A little.” Emmy shrugged “It’s gonna hurt right?”

“It’s not so bad.” Katie shrugged, “Some places hurt more apparently but…most important thing to remember is if you need a break just ask.”

“Ok.”

The two women walked a few blocks, catching up. It had been a couple of weeks since Emmy was home, fast approaching the last few weeks of the semester at Harvard before her exams started. All of her marks so far had been sky high, leaving her parents immensely proud, although both had taken great pains to tell her that they didn’t care what the outcome was, as long as she tried her best.

Eventually they reached the place and Emmy opened the door, stepping in. David, the man that had done the consultation a few weeks back beckoned them both through.

“Ok, so…” he said, tilting the screen to show Emmy the picture of her design he’d scanned “I gotta say I’m excited about this one, it’s pretty unique.”

“My dad drew it.” Emmy beamed.

“It’s phenomenal.” David smiled “I had to sharpen some of the lines up but there’s no major changes. Are you happy with it?”

Emmy nodded.

“Ok, and yours Mrs Rogers…” David clicked and the imaged changed. “The touches we’re adding to your thigh are fairly straight forward but this one…this is what I think it is right?”

Katie nodded.

“Awesome…” David smiled, and hit print and stood up to collect both the prints.

“Have you told Dad?” Emmy looked at her. Katie smirked and shook her head.

“Nope.” she popped the p on the word “Thought it would be a nice surprise when he gets to see it later.” “I’m not sure if I should be grossed out by that thought or not.” Emmy mumbled and Katie simply laughed.

Just over 2 and a half hours later they were done, leaving the parlour with strict after care instructions. Emmy had hardly flinched through hers, whereas Katie’s new one had been slightly uncomfortable due to the placing.

“Think that earned us a beer…” Katie said checking her watch. “Come on, we got time before we need to collect the heathens.”

***** “Show me! Show me!”  Rori demanded.

“You can’t see it yet short stuff.” Emmy said fondly “It’s still wrapped up.”

“When can you unwrap it?” Jamie asked.

“Another hour or so yet.” Katie answered “So quit bugging your sister and go put your school bags away.”

“Emmy do you wanna watch Sponge Bob with me?” Rori asked. 

“Only if we can sing the special song…” Emmy grinned, holding her hand out for a hi-five. Rori giggled, and slapped her smaller palm against her sister’s.

“What special song?” Katie looked at her.

“Oh just a variation on the theme tune we made up.” Emmy said, grinning mischievously 

“I dread to think.” Katie muttered, watching Jamie and Rori head up stairs to deposit their rucksacks in their room.

Katie bustled around making dinner, simple spaghetti and meatballs as requested by all 4 kids…well, the elder 3…Harry merely clapped his hands and yelled “getty” in agreement. She was stood stirring the sauce when she heard Steve walk through the door an toss his keys onto the table in the hall little under an hour later. 

“Daddy’s home!” she heard Rori shriek and a moment later Steve chuckled.

“Hey…” he said, sweeping her up and placing a kiss on her cheek. He carried her through to the kitchen where he greeted Harry with a ruffle of the hair as he sat by the table doodling on a pad with Emmy.

“Hi sweetie.” Steve said, as Emmy stood up to give him a hug. “How was the tattooing?”

“Good.” she nodded, “Oh, actually, mom….should I unwrap it now?”

“Errr, yeah.” Katie said, turning the heat down on the stove and accepting the kiss Steve offered. “Can you watch these 2. I’ll go help Emmy out…”

“Sure.” Steve said, “Where’s Jamie?”

“2 guesses” Katie grinned at him and Steve shook his head, smiling, knowing full well that meant he was nose deep in lego.

Katie and Emmy bounded up the stairs and returned about 15 minutes later, Emmy proudly showing off the design on her right ankle. Steve had to admit, it did look pretty good, but then he would say that, he drew it after all.

They dragged Jamie out of the den for dinner, where the boy managed 2 helpings before he ran off again, almost having a meltdown when Katie told him he had to share the den as Rori wanted to watch Cartoons. One stern look from Steve nipped the tantrum in the bud and the 4 kids departed once dishes had been deposited in the sink, Katie waving away Emmy’s offer to help, telling her to go spend some time with her siblings. It didn’t take her and Steve long to clear down and they were heading towards the living room to collapse onto the sofa together, but the shriek and cheers coming from the den made them both stop in their tracks.

“What on Earth are they watching?”  Steve looked at his wife.

“Sponge Bob, apparently…” Katie said. The two looked at one another, before they headed back towards the den and peeked through the door which was open a crack.

Emmy was stood, swaying with Harry held on her hip, the pair of them laughing, whilst Jamie was doing some kind of strange running man dance as Rori bounced up and down on the sofa as the opening credits began to roll. Emmy opened her mouth and started singing along to the opening theme tune in a pirate voice.

Only she wasn’t singing the theme tune. They were completely different words.

“Who lived as a Capsicle under the sea?” Emmy paused to look at Jamie and Rori who both yelled back in chorus, Harry mimicking them as best he could whilst clapping his hands.

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

Steve blinked, looked at Katie, his mouth dropping open as she burst out laughing at the look of utter confusion and perplexment on his face. She pushed the door open further and all the kids turned to see their parents watching them. But instead of stopping, they continued to sing even louder at Steve as he folded his arms and leaned against the door frame.

“Saluting a hello and killing Nazis…” Emmy continued

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

“If patriotism be something you wish…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

By this point Katie was laughing that hard she couldn’t breathe. She doubled over, tears pouring from her face as the kids continued their relentless serenade to their father.

“Then throw a big shield and punch with your fist…”

“CAPTAIN ROGERS!”

That was it. Steve couldn’t keep his face straight any longer and he too started to laugh, grinning as Rori ran over to him and pulled on his hands dragging him into the room to make him twirl her round.

Eventually the song stopped and the room was simply filled with laughter which died down. Steve wiped his eyes and looked at his kids before he crossed his arms.

“You’re all grounded.” he smirked, and then ran as they started pelting him with throw cushions.

****

Later that night, as always, Steve couldn’t stop his eyes from roving his wife’s body as she walked out of the en-suite and into the bedroom, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of sleep shorts ready for bed. As he lounged on top of the duvet, back propped up against the headboard, his gaze travelled down the lines of her body and he frowned as he spotted something on her thigh that looked different.

Suddenly it dawned on him what it was.

“Is that…is that a new tattoo?” Steve sat up, looking at her leg then to her face, and back again.

“Technically it’s an addition to an existing one.” Katie grinned as she made her way to the bed and knelt up in front of Steve. His hands gently fell to her hips as he examined the new ink. The area surrounding one of the 4 stars that formed part of the original tattoo had been shaded with red and gold in a water colour effect. He didn’t need her to explain, but she did anyway.

“That’s for Tony.” she said softly, “And these…” she pointed out 4 additional stars she’d had placed within the existing design “One for each of the kids.”

“Not one for me?” he eventually pouted playfully, looking back up at her.

She bit her lip and grinning slightly, pulled his shirt over her head leaving her top half naked, and she turned her torso slightly the left, holding her arm over her breasts so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the design that was now etched onto her skin just underneath her left breast on her rib cage.

It was his wings. The wings he had worn on his helmet. The wings adopted by the Howlies as their symbol in the war. And above that sat a star that was the same as the others on her thigh.

“That’s for you…” she said softly.

Steve was struggling for words. There was something he was finding outrageously sexy about the fact she’d had that placed somewhere that no one would really see other than him. And something ridiculously sentimental about the design she had chosen.

“Do you like it Soldier?” she asked softly, biting her lip.

He looked up at her, smiling as his hands gripped her bare waist and he pulled her down with him so she was led on top of him. “I love it.”

“I love you…” she grinned, melting into his arms as his hands ran up her bare back, her nose nudging his softly.

“Back at ya pretty girl.” he smirked, before his lips claimed hers in a heated kiss.

 **Original Posting**

[rosecorcoranwrites]

Klaus, El Dorado, and The Liar Revealed

Mediocrity vs. Cliches

Around this time last year, when we were young, innocent, and oblivious of the horrors of 2020, people in internet circles were loosing their minds over a movie called Klaus. You have probably never heard of it, but if you had, it would have been by stumbling across it on Netflix or from hearing a YouTube reviewer singing it's praises.

The main reason people loved it was that it was traditionally animated. In fact, it's director, Sergio Pablos, worked on several Disney Renaissance films, and it shows. The animation is gorgeous. The character designs are stylized and unique. What I found the most pleasing was the color palette, which I would describe as pastel watercolor. The film is set in the Far North, and the dour scenes feel cold and depressing while the heartfelt scenes look warm and cozy. The film was a visual delight.

The story? Eh, it was ok.

The reviewers I watched tended to focus on the beautiful return-to-form animation that we rarely see in the days of 3-D animated films while not noticing, or ignoring, that the story was kind of blah. It was a typical "rich-kid-layabout will get cutoff if he doesn't prove himself", with a heaping helping of "The Liar Revealed", which is one of the most annoying tropes in the history of narrative, but we'll get to that later. There's also a subplot that's basically the Hatfields and McCoys, and a randomly villainous matriarch who decides to keep being the villain because... conflict, I guess? Sure, there were a few original ideas—mostly involving Klaus's wife and the couple's struggle with having children—but overall nothing to write home about. The "feelsy" moments were unearned; I felt nothing.

Now, you'll notice that in the previous paragraph, I described many cliches, but I would not describe Klaus as cliche. I would describe it as mediocre. As I said, it was an ok story, but only ok. The problem was that it took its cliches and painted by numbers, which is why it could never rise above mediocrity. A film that knows how to play with cliches—not even necessarily subverting them, but just getting creative with them—can rise to greater heights.

Cliches as Genre: Road to El Dorado

Let's look at another gorgeously 2-D animated film: The Road to El Dorado. This film, too, is rife with cliches: Europeans being mistaken for gods by a non-western civilization, a witch doctor (basically), going native, the Leyenda Negra, and so on. It also features the cliche of two scoundrels going on what is basically a buddy-comedy adventure. The thing about many of these cliches is that they are part of the genre. That genre is as general as "Adventure fiction", where it's not unusual to encounter witch doctors and native tribes and such, and as precise as "Road to" comedies of Bob Hope and Bing Crosby, which El Dorado is unarguably a pastiche of. Simply read the "running gags" section about these films on Wikipedia and you have a blueprint for El Dorado.

And that's the point. El Dorado follows a number of cliches because those are staples of its genre. Cliches, contrary to popular opinion, are not only not an automatic flaw in, but are often essential to, a work, especially when those cliches are what make a story a recognizable example of the genre in question.

El Dorado, however, plays with it's cliches. Most notably, it portrays the natives as normal human beings, which, lets be honest, a lot of old-timey adventure fiction didn't do. Miguel, one of the two main characters, sees the beauty of the culture he and Tulio, the other lead, find themselves in. The "white men mistaken for gods" trope is also played with in that the chief of the tribe figures out rather quickly (or possibly always knew) that Miguel and Tulio are just normal men like himself.

Thankfully, the film never strays into noble-savage territory, which lesser stories stumble into in their attempt to make up for the racism of the past. The natives have personalities, flaws, and vices. Chel, the female lead, is a floozy and a thief who happily joins the con that Miguel and Tulio are pulling, which she sees through immediately. Tzekel-Kan, a priest of a human-sacrifice-loving religion, is not only a zealot, but also a murderer, in that he sacrifices his own assistant to summon up a Jaguar spirit to hunt down the two false gods (yeah, that happens. Seriously, if you haven't seen this movie, you're missing out!). The characters, both white and POC, are fleshed out and three dimensional.

Finally, there is the story itself, and it's conclusion. Let's compare it to Klaus.

Conclusions

For those who never saw it, Klaus ends with a Liar Revealed scene where the scheme of the main character, Jesper, is revealed, and all his friends frown at him despite him obviously having changed by that point. Then a chase scene happens so Jesper can prove he's really changed, then a reveal that there was no good reason for the chase scene to have happened, then the main character is forgiven for his honestly-not-that-bad previous lies.

The whole story boils down to rich-kid learns a lesson and opens his heart, giving up his richness for the true treasure of generosity. Unfortunately, a lot of that was derailed by the weird Hatfields-McCoys subplot, which felt cartoonish next to the heartfelt-ness the rest of the film was trying (and maybe failing...) to achieve. It felt forced, in that the film needed that subplot so the chase could happen, and they only needed that so the Liar Revealed could make up for his Revealed Lies. Bleh.

El Dorado was more organic. Miguel and Tulio, by the last third of the film, have grudgingly decided to go their separate ways, with Miguel deciding to stay in El Dorado (the city), which he has fallen in love with, and Tulio and Chel going off with a shipful of gold that they presumably sail back to Spain ("And buy Spain!"). These are not happy conclusions, as it means a break in their inseparable friendship.

But then, Cortez, the Big Bad, shows up! Note, unlike the Hatfield-McCoys in Klaus, he is introduced in the beginning of the film as an actual threat, and has an understandable goal: conquest and gold. Miguel and Tulio, knowing this, decide he has to be stopped. That's when Tulio—the objectively more greedy, in-it-for-himself, not-gone-native of the pair—realizes that the only way to save the city is to crash his boat into the columns at the city entrance. It's a good plan, but will mean that he has to sacrifice what he wants: gold. But he makes the sacrifice, because he has become more that just a guy lying about being a god for money.

But then the boat isn't going to make it fast enough because the sail is stuck! It's gonna crash, and not in the way they wanted! Miguel, who had fallen in love with El Dorado and was willing to part ways with his friend and treasure to stay there, as to ride out on his horse and jump onto the mast to unfurl the sail. He knows the ship will then whoosh towards the columns and the only entrance to his beloved city with be destroyed, stopping Cortez, but also blocking him from the city forever. But he makes the sacrifice, because he cares enough about the people in El Dorado to let them go, and enough about his friend to not let him smack into the columns and die.

The Liar Revealed: Why It's Bad

Those were the conclusions to each movie, but not the conclusion to this blog. We still haven't discussed why the liar revealed is so lame, and how to fix it.

First, what is it? Basically, Main Character lies about something—his motives, his identity, etc.—for a large chunk of the story, then somewhere around the third act, his lie is revealed! Usually, this means that all the other characters turn their back on him, literally and figuratively, because they can't imagine how he could do something so terrible. Then, he does something to prove his mettle and his heart, and then everyone forgives him.

And I hate it. I hate it for three particular reasons.

First, it is just a different version of the thing that happens in romcoms where the main couple should declare their love for each other, but because the writer wouldn't know what to do at that point, they introduce a stupid misunderstanding that could be cleared up in two seconds if the leads talked like grown-ups. The Liar Revealed is that stupid, tired trope, but for kids.

Second, the lie is sometimes understandable, or not even that bad. In Klaus, Jesper claimed to be trying to spread hope and good cheer by sending kids presents, but in reality, he was trying to rack up the number of packages/letters he sent to prove to his dad he wasn't a useless layabout. How... despicable? Is it though? And can't he do both? He literally did, and he could have said so, except that the movie pulled a romcom and he got seperated from his friends before being able to explain that it started out mercenary and then quickly grew into the real deal. Even if it hadn't, though, like... is wanting to prove that your not a gutless layabout a bad thing? I don't get it.

Third is when the lie might be bad, but it's too late to care. In A Bug's Life, the colony learns that the so called warriors that Flik brought them are actually circus performers, so they have a reason to be miffed. Then again, they learn this on the eave of the day the grasshoppers will come to murder them all, and as Flik says, his bird doohickey will work. Not only does the colony have no reason to doubt this, they have no better options. Get all frowny and turn your backs on him after you lose the battle tomorrow, cause you have no time for such romcom drama tonight.

The Liar Revealed: When It's Good

Now, just because the Liar Revealed is awful doesn't mean that we can't keep having liars who eventually prove that they've changed in our fiction. But we don't have to follow the same tired trope.

For example, Over the Hedge has the Liar of RJ the Raccoon be Revealed, but saves the fallout between him and the other animals for a later action sequence, with hilarious results. Watch Schaffrillas Productions's video “Why Over the Hedge is Surprisingly Good” for a more detailed explanation of how this trope is dealt with in this film.

Or we have Tangled, where Eugene, by rights, should follow the Liar Revealed trajectory. He starts off scruffy and selfish, then slowly falls for Rapunzel and her good and pure outlook on life. He goes to give the Stabbington brothers the swiped crown that he no longer desires, but gets conked on the head by Gothel, who tells Rapunzel that he left with it cause he was just using her. We have a misunderstanding; we have a Rapunzel sadly walking away from the "liar"; we have the trappings of the last act of a romcom. But then, the real liar is revealed: Mother Gothel! And as soon as Rapunzel knows this, she never doubts Eugene, because that would be boring and nonsensical.

Finally, we have Road to El Dorado, with two liars, Miguel and Tulio, who are pretending to be gods to get wealth and adventure. They change over the course of the film to care about something more. They prove this change in a climactic scene We have all of the Liar Revealed, except for the reveal. There is no scene where everyone in the city frown and turns their backs, because that's not needed. The story isn't about the characters earning the forgiveness of the community like in Klaus, or proving themselves like in A Bug's Life. It's about two dudes who are scoundrelly friends going on an adventure, becoming a little less scoundrelly, and remaining friends. In the end, they both gave up what they wanted, but that's ok, because they have each other. Is it cliche? You bet! But that's way better than being mediocre.

[denotday]

Maybel Rhodes: Protectress

Itchy arms. My armbumps bumps take over life and chew my head off like a black mother. Even the sleeves of this sweater craddle these potholes as an english muffin craddles butter. But I'm more than my bumps and I'd make a quip on Fergie, but I'm no Joan Rivers. I'm small, meager. At eighteen, trying to find myself, live my own life. Typical teen drama, boring narrative, sob story. bored already. But know what isn't boring? I like strawberry shortcake and cheeseless pizzas. I have hopes of becoming a journalist and actually leading a career as moreof a Clark Kent than a Mary Jane or whatever the fuck that bitch's name is. Mary Anne? That used to be the name of one of my teachers. Going off; just thinking these thoughts while skateboarding to highschool.

Stay on the sides, away from cars, on the sidewalk, not too close to the white kids. White kids mean white mess, white messes mean cops who sweep the streets and take all the black kids with them in the process. I'm not a racist, just a black kid trying to stay alive in white america. Thank god I'm a weak bitch, one who cries for black men, one who doesn't face real issues like projected aggression. I'm a butterfly, something that men swat away and don't care about until MeToo movements. Gotta be careful but not too careful, kind but not too kind, firm but not a bitch, bitch but not a faggot. faggots suck.

No one thinks to ask these questions, here this thoughts. They see a black woman, better yet, a black female child. Worse thing to live in a ghetto. Sike; I say that I'm black and in a ghetto and get sob points. Fucking racist. I'm skating to one of those Fresh Prince schools. Didn't move on up, I'm simply moving; parents are mid class well grounded and guess what? My parents are still together. Probably breaking up soon but still breaking barriors of broke baby daddies and black slutty whore mothers who don't believe in abortion.

That's humor in of itself. A black kid skates into a white neighborhood with white sidewalks and doesn't have a nigger daddy and nigger mommy. What can be said by those PTA suburban soccer moms who want to demonise me and my own? Or am I palatable and a token black?

Making good grades, going to class on time. Only thing is, I don't have any friends to call. Even if I had one of those top quality iPhone 411s, I still wouldn't want to burden myself with filling up those high-techy contact lists. It's all bullshit after all, just capitalistic bilge. Something to fill the void without actually trying to let the public know that the void they're filling chalks up to capitalism. But again, those little tangents? "What does this have to do with having friends?" Everything. I don't give a shit, I accept shit. I tell things like it is, speak with lisps or change it up by sounding like an oxford professor.Not going to just abandon stream of consciousness 'cause class just started. This aint sims 4 and life ain't something that can be controlled; sped up or slowed down for the sake of an other's pleasure. I'm learning about shit that I'll never use like economics. That's shit that the government gives the state to teach, a little but not enough for highschoolers to overwhelm the system and decide "fuck student loans".

Not too bad here, though. Not all just "fuck hyschool" and teenaged angst. I go to the library, read books, go on my computer, listening to some Biggie and MFDoom and Tribe. Guess I am a nigger. Nigger-me and my nigger music. Even tththough it's they inspiration for they cracker music. Hate on us enough to keep us down but keep us up enough to steal from us. Today I'm reading some teen dystopian fantasy novel that I don't feel inclined to share with you guys. And no, it's not Hunger Games. It's Gunger Hames, the cousin of the franchise. Whoops just gave ya'll the name sorry. Either way I'm into that. Idea of a not-so-distant-future; humans making mistakes that fuck up the planet---disregarding that fact long enough so that the white main character can get it on with someone from the other side. Modern day Romeo and Juliett.

End of lunch, going back to class. It's back to back all day; boring teen shit that nobody cares about. Raising hands, answering questions, not understanding anything by the end of the day. Getting by is my motto. Long enough to get an A in the class and be on those ivy league watchlists. Even if I have to bust my ass to pay for student loans. Leaving highschool after all that non-work---no friends to lie to, no one to walk with, just me and my skateboard. These white paths not dirtied by brown except for my dirt body moving at the speed that a skateboard will go. Shift right here and there. Move away from rocks so that I don't fall headfirst. It's good shit. Here and there there are stone pebbles, blunts from---ironically enough--- the white kids and sharp object that I can't identify. FUCK. I don't have time to move around it and I can't just run offf. My leg'll get cut by it. Gotta just build up enough speed to roll over. Rolling...rolling...here it comes. Crouch down, focus, focus, pump speed anddddd....it stops my speed and loosens one of my bearings. Now I gotta walk the rest of the way back to my white little house with a white picket fence. Man screw--haha pun---this object. I have to use my 20/20 vision to find some small silver bolt that'll practically blend in with this bright ass sidewalk. Fuck white America.

In a little patch of weeds growing like black fists raising in the air I see the bolt and the responsible party for tossing me off the board. I raise my foot to crush this sonnofabiscuit like a bug so that some white kid's bike tire doesn't get licked---mind you this should be considered community service---and I figure that I won't ruin my rubber soles on the glass, so I'll just pick it up and toss it into the sewer. I put the bolt in my sweatpants pocket to keep it safe. I bend over again to peer at the crack in the sidewalk that I'll punt to the other side of the street where the other half of the street lives. It has tribal markings on it and must be, gasp, an ancient arcane ruin that'll give me superpowers. Kidding, you dumb bitch. "Why am I talking to myself this way? Jeez, some self-improvement classes would be nice". It's a bracelet made of some sort of beads. Kindof pretty but caked up with dirt and sand like no-one's business. I'm no Rocket Racoon so I just leave it. Even if I felt that it was interesting enough, I'd have to clean it off and disinfect it. It would just ruin the material underneath. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Hm. Lemme stop; for real, in this white bread neighborhood, I might be able to get it appraised and pawn it off for some money or at the very least, see if it's worth keeping. I know; "this is the start of every horror movie", every tv show. I get it, but I'll cleanse the jewelry before wearing it. It's fine. It's fine. Hope it's fine. Jeez.

I put the bracelet in my other pocket away from the bolt and walk back home. The soles of my feet hit the white pavement and my feet move in the fashion of jubillee ferris wheels. Slowly rise in a circle, fall in perfect arch. Walking is divine poetry in of itself. Not too long now. A little further. Feels like the day is stretching. Still light outside and the summer-brink of fall--air is warming my rectum. "Oh god, what's with gays and their rectums". You know your g-spot is in your ass, men. It feels good for us too you know. Nice coolness for the butthole----rectum is for men, butthole is for women. I think. See? Not a Cliff Huxtable type; don't know everything. Not an Urkle. Conversations with myself like this are truly golden (ponyboy).

Fondle the silver piece, twist it in lock, get somewhere new. Novel design, simple concept. My rubber soles give me cat-walking abilities and I edge up the stairs. Hear shuffling downstairs in the kitchen. But the smell of musky forest wood with a hint of olive tells me that it's just my father. I'd announce my presence but this isn't a sitcom and I have a phone that I can use to text. Who talks nowadays?

On the table near the keyrack, I scoop into my pockets in search of the goods. The warm cotton touches the cool silver bolt. Set it aside to attach it to the skateboard later. "Why not now?" That'll be a problem for me to solve tomorrow. "Procrastination isn't good" Yeah I know. I've read the same 1990's health pamphlet that the health teachers give out. I hug my side to reach around for the other pocket. Same warmth, same feeling of comfort except...it's a new sensation. Hollow and porous. It's either bone carved into beads or plastic. Hope to...Well, not God, maybe I hope to goodness? Goodness? What am I? A preacher? Maybe that's why I like 16 year old boys. Anyway. It's too white over here for it to be bone. Unless it's some cracker who brought over some hoodoo shit and dropped it somewere. Great. Gonna burn some incense to cleanse it. Then gonna toss it somewhere so that it can't hurt anyone. Wait. It doesn't FEEL menacing. No darkness, no coldness, there's a comfort to be had. I don't see any visible engravings, no bite marks no arcane symbols. It may be safe. Just to be sure, I'm keeping it downstairs for it to curse someone else in the house. I rise up the stairs into the wide landing. Step, rise, step, rise, step, rise. Before I get to the top, I feel funny. Not sick funny or CURSED funny, but someone-is-in-my-presence funny. Strech my neck to look over my shoulder. Not too far to show interest but far enough to see what's going on---it's my dad handling the bracelet.

I whip my body around and I suppose this gives him a start.

"Hey, just got back from school. I'm pretty tired which is why I didn't want to talk. Found that bracelet in the sidewalk cracks before my skateboard broke. I wouldn't touch it if I were you. Don't know if it's cursed or not."

"Cursed? Bee, this is a genuine Sudanese artifact."

"Huh? When'd you turn into a archeologist? Or are you just nerding out about a 'special interest'"

"Har har. Nothing like that. This area used to be an auction town for slaves shipped from Sudan. Martinsville, Pennsylvania wasn't necessarily known for it's 'clean hands' you know. Gentrification made the area look nicer but its history is still pretty shit-covered."

"Ah, I remember now. I heard about this in history class" No I haven't. I don't even have history. Just want to stop talking to him about some dumb bracelet. "Can it sell for big bucks at a pawnshop?"

"I mean, sure if you'd like to get rid of it. Better to give it to the local museum though! It looks to me like it's made out of elephant tusks. Pretty well preserved too! The wearer must've been some warrior. They only wear these types of jewelry if they're the village's protectors. That's what I've read online anyway. You know how the interweb is though. Could be false."

"Oh wow. Ivory? That's a pretty dirty trade. Don't want to give something like that up to white people who continue to promote the trade. This'll just make the ivory market worse. I may keep it; I just wonder if it's cursed or something. I'll ask a local witchcraft practitioner to check it out tomorrow. Can I have thirty bucks for an appraisal along with an after-school snack?"

"Thirty? What're you going to buy? A salmon dinner with asparagus and steak? I'm not giving you Carabbas money. I can do 18. Enough for some street food."

"Not enough for the appraisal!"

"I'm sure the person will be able to work something out for you. You look twelve. You can play the 'Uwu I'm a baby who has no money, please help me out adult!' card. Or, how about this: pretend to be doing a research project for school on Sudanese slaves in the area. Just act like the school lent you the bracelet for the project"

"So lie?"

"I call it embellishment."

"I see"

I reached into his calloused palm and stole its contents, As a thief, I ran upstairs away from the site of the crime, away from the demons that lurked beneath the stairs. That's customary practice when going up stairs, right? To haul ass like there's no tomorrow like we're that black chick from Scary Movie? Sounds about right. I heaved and ho'd swinging my body back and forth up the stairs. Snaking my way into my room where I burrow for my after-school nap. That's what I tell my parents anyway. What I really do is blaze up in my room and turn on the fan. Gotta keep the smoke minimal. "Such a typical teen". Yeah, whatever. Like your generation wasn't popping ass and drinking bathtub wine when ya'll were young, Get outta here.

It's a good high. Kind where you'd listen to lofi and eat peanuts just for the fun of it. Another bong hit. Satisfying. I'm just leaning back on my sofa; it's firm and uncomfy but when I'm blazed, don't none of it matter. I could lose all of my words...give up....let....go.....

"...."

"What is this energy I'm feeling? So warm and electric. Is this love? Am I so sexually frustrated that I'm in love with a bong? Shit, I fuck with that. That's pretty words. 'I'm in love with my bong'. Such nice love. haha."

I'm hungry and it's four am. The weed has worn off. So tired man. Gotta go downstairs for some chips or something. Hungry to the max. Munchies munchies munchies for the weed monster. What a drug.

I creep down the stairs and up once more. My bare footpads cling to the hardwood and leave sweat prints in the shape of my stompers. During my ascent I leave crumbs. Have the house feeling like a Brother's Grimm story. I satisfy my snack desires as I prepare for school in the next hour.

Running water on my arms. Three passes of lotion on arms and legs. Can't be the ashy black kid that look like they an African living in a dirt house. Ain't able to help the rough patches that coat my body but I can help keep my skin moisturized.

A'ight. Got my fit got my board. Just have to screw the bolt back on and find the bracelet. Shit. Left it upstairs. I'm already late as hell. Rushing up the stairs. Search for the bracelet, find it, get out house. Objectives objectives. I spot it from afar and gravitating toward it, put it gingerly in my pocket. Kindof like someone would with a used tissue. Aren't humans gross? I mean, snot? Bacteria-filled snot? Nasty. Thoughts gone, make brain go from thinking to doing. descending now. Board in arm, door opens with the flick of the wrist and just like that, I'm outty. Deck on ground I put my best foot forward and ram it onto the hard cement to push myself forward. Sorry foot, betrayals sure do suck.

School begins, in class siting in a chair. All day, several hours. Ah, the beloved system at work. Great to know that there are adults who "work" all day by keeping kids seated in a chair. Very progressive, America. Library break? I think so. On my laptop, I pull out webpages on the pocketed---the word reminds me of 'closeted---bracelet. NOW I'm imagining a gay bracelet. hilarious. Great. Typing 'Gay Bracelet' into the search bar and am getting rainbow plastic bands. Ya know, the ones that they sell at Hot Topic during pride month.

"Damn, I'm getting sidetracked" She mutters to herself. Imagine if life were a story being told by some omnipotent force? omnipresent? Think that's the word.

With a bit of typing and a bit of focus. Swift movement of hunched fingers. All is complete, then some. Ogdle: "common of the Azande warriors were pieces to signify their status such as septum tusks, mouth disks, necklaces and other adornments. Bones and tusks were common materials of such articles."

Crazy how this history is hidden. Power was taken from us and buried so deep. We're the originals but every piece of history buried underground. Hidden, secretive Big Bad America. Tale fit for young people all over. Democracy, boo yah.

Train whistle blowing through the air. No train nearby, just the sound of a change in the block. I put it all away, sweep it into my bag. Everything is so messy, so fast. On schooldays like this, it feels hard to even take time to breathe. But I get by since the system wants me to. Think I'm going to skip. Not that the next two classes even matter in the long run. "Such a poor black baby, representing her race so poorly". Yeah yeah. Not the black chick that highschools would put on a recruiting card.

Just another push....door after door falling at my fingertips. The same once that touch the coarse sandpaper of my board. Foot on, foot off. kick once, twice, thrice, now we surf the cement. Now it's time to visit good the kind old black woman who practices witchcraft on dolls. That's what you'd think right? No, they're native and keep old customs within the community. Everyone calls them---agender--- Sage. Nonbinary native americans are actually more common than people think.

Before selling the bracelet to some old rich white drudge of society, I wanna be sure that the bracelet can be cleansed first. I mean. To give away black history to the white man? Hellll no with multiple "l's". It is a pretty long ride there, even on a board. Rumbly road. Pebbles everywhere. Thousands of little rocks acting as smaller wheels vying to fling me off. It's too much.

Mumbling of my own. "Where's gentrification when you need it?" Alright, yes I get it. It's a bad joke. Of course gentrification is bad. Blah blah. Time to pick up my skateboard I guess. Walking on this ground feels just as bad as suicide. Feaful of getting my ass flung into the afterlife. Few yards left....or at least fifty feet. Forty eight, forty five, forty-however-long.

Ended up reaching it after twenty minutes. This trip better be worth it.

"Hi there, Miss Sage. Mind checking out this bracelet for me? I need to check it for a curse or evil energy. My cheap father didn't give me enough for a full appraisal but what can you do with nine dollars?"

"For nine? Not much, doll? What was your name again? You look young, do you have an adult's approval for this?"

"Oh, right. You've got me. It's for a school project. School each student a historical object to research. I figured you'd be able to help me get an 'A' on the project, you know?"

"Your manners are lacking but you seem young, so I'll let you pass. Allow me to take a look at it, if you please?"

God. Full-fledged adults really are something else. I'm only eighteen, not eight. Guess I look younger than I am----

Sage starts burning this wood that's tied with string. Incense maybe?

"That incense?"

"It's a closed practice really, so I don't want to expose anything. But it is a form of incense that I prefer to use to cleanse the spirit of objects and areas."

"Ah, didn't mean to intrude. I'm glad that there are still practices that you keep to yourself. Nothing like the White Man stripping us of our culture."

I got a soft chuckle out of them. Glad that they're able to lighten up a bit.

"..."

"OK, so here's what I've found. There's immense energy here; the power coming off of this thing is tremendous. There's nothing negative about this piece. How'd you ever come across it, again? School, you said? Shame that you'll have to give it back. Something like this would provide a large power surge to spirituals. I'd pay a pretty penny for this."

"Mhm"

"Wonder how the school even came across this. I tell you what. Ask your school where I can find something like this and perhaps I'll give you a little something for your intel, huh?"

"Oh. Sure. I'll just--uh---"

"Right, right, right. The bracelet, I'm sorry. Really, it's more an anklet truly, but--ya know what? I'm sorry. Here ya go"

"...take it from ya. Thanks."

"No problem. Come back with more info on the anklet. That'll be your payment for my time"

Got 'caught in a lie it seems. Don't know how I'll snake my way out of this one.

"Brrrrrzzzzz"

Shit, it's five. My dad's probably looking for me.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter two:

" You skipped class? Bee, I know that you're better than this."

God moms bitch too much. Must be the nursing job coupled with her daily acting gigs that make her so aggro.

"I hear ya, mom. I just had some research to conduct after school..."

"Research? Which kind---?"

"The school kind. I don't know what else you want me to say. I'm sorry for skipping lasses. I got too overzealous and went in over my head. It won't happen again."

"Tskk. Better not. I know that I'm gone almost every hour of the day, but please give me a break, baby. Please just listen to your father and follow the rules. All I ask."

"Mhm, even though he-----you know what, nevermind. Am I dismissed? I have to write up today's school report to type"

Phew. Gonna hit the bong now to calm down from this encounter.

Fuck homework. .... ..... Mhm.

Five minutes passs. Fifteen, twenty. Maybe not minutes. hours? seconds? Time is too funny. With LEDs on, the vibe is fatallll. Still have to open a window to let out the smoke but gosh is this magical.

Mhm magic. Does it even exist? Doubt it. It's all science, right? ....

.....

Right. Like, this anklet. Not real power. Not real magic. Just something people believe in. Like God. It's all faith.

"So, theoretically, I could even put it on my person and nothing would even happen"

"And, so it begins"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT VOICE" and why am I screaming?

Get off, get off, get off! Something's dripping on me.

"Tears, they're tears"

Oh god, I fucked up. I knew that I shouldn't have smoked that much. Knew it'd bite me in the ass one day. Now I'm fear-crying. I NEVER FEAR CRY.

It's all a dream maybe. Go to sleep, Bee. Just take a weed nap.

"Ba ba bang"

A booming voice raspy from coffee withdrawal.

"Everything OK in there Bee? You're about to be late for school."

Shit!

No time for conversation. Move it move it move it.

"'Cmon Bee. I'll drop you off at school on my way to the college".

Bookbag? Check. Board? Check.

I feel the rush of air against my cheeks as I fly out the door and jump into the getaway car. Fast, but atleast I'm not Furious. Dad and I chat it up all the way until the tires cross the smooth pavement of school grounds. Departing words are exchanged along with "I love you's" and "knock 'em deads".

That familiar sound. Principal as the school conductor. "Chooo". Just as it drones, my body moves to the steps of teens dragging their feet toward their dreaded first classes of the day. The light of morning cradles the marble arches of the school entrance until the sun starts to suck in the morning cold to blow out midday warmth.

"So, who are you, voice? What's your angle? Typing ensues. The screen watches my fleeting pupils; left, right, side, side. Wouldn't be surprised if the computer got whiplash from me. One scroll, two, three. Read a page. Nothing. Another website. Up and down; my fingers are cramped now. Nada. New Oogdle search: "Can I hear voices with weed smoking." Now I have a hit; "yes weed can have you seeing voices. Many aren't even your own. Maybe lay off the TV for a while."

"Thanks 'BouncyNina29'. Quora is one hell of a place." Guess it must've just been the drugs then. Hilarious, me hearing some voice. "Gotta lay off the bong smoking".

"Shhh!!" Some nerd in a striped beanie raised a finger to pursed lips.

Sorry, sorry....Jeez. "My bad" You know what? Maybe I can visit----

the train whistle interrupts my 11pm "ball" with myself. "Dammit". OK. Maybe I can bribe one of the delinquents behind the school to take my place in English. Teacher's not there anyway; the sub won't know the difference. Time to go pay someone off.

"..."

"Here ya go, five dollars."

"A'ight and you said what room that English class in?"

"301 B man. It's at the end of the third floor, right wing. Hard to miss and---remember---my name is Maybel Rhodes. Just fake like you're doing some work and no one will even notice that you're not me. I'm a loner, so, that'll work."

"Mhm hmm. I hear ya Maple"

"MayBEL"

"Yeah, that's what I said"

Scoff. In a smooth curvular motion, I plant my feet on the board and race to Sage's before their store closes.

As I approach, they're putting a silver key in a lock. Gah! The store closed.

"Miss Sage---"

"Gah! Don't do that!! Scaring me and sh--I mean, 'crap'. Scaring me and crap. Look kid, I'm closed right now but we open tomorrow. By then, I'll have the energy to discuss your school's anklet with you. Actually, about that. Do you have intel on where the-----"

"Yes, yes. About that, see...I lied. I didn't really get it from the school. I found it on the ground somewhere."

"'Found it on the ground somewhere' is code for 'I don't have money to pay nor do I have anything else to provide'? Am I getting warmer?"

"Look Miss Sage, I'm really sorry. Hey---look at it this way. I'm in debt to you. If you'll just help me with one teensy little thing, I'll ask my dad for some food money and will give you every cent he gives, alright?"

"Kid, that's not how an adult runs a business. Call what I gave you yesterday a 'freebie'. You're banned from the store. Good night."

Wait. "Wait" Their stride is aimed toward their silver camry. Yeah, I know a camry. Did you expect them to be riding a horse? Racist. Sage acts as though they don't hear and gets into their seat, key in ignition. One twist away before exiting the rocky parking area.

"IT SPOKE TO ME" Yup. That is how I yelled it. All caps, woke some birds up even. Just like in those Loony Toon cartoons. Is that why they're called "Loony Toons" 'cause they're loony cart----

Now they exit their car, slamming the heavy metal door. "What did you say? It...SPOKE...to you? What do you mean 'it'?"

Mhm Mhm. Just prepping my throat. "I wore it on my ankle and I heard a voice that has never existed before in the chasms----"

"Stop the theatrics"

"....Chasms of my mind. It was a male. Around your age in old-timey-ness."

"Har har."

"But it's the truth!" Why won't they believe a magical voice but insist that sage, a random plant, purifies the air?

Their chest contracts and expands in a sigh. Sage closes their eyes for a second. I could practically smell the gears turning. Need some WD-40, really. "Fine. Come by the store Saturday. That way, no one will be in to eavesdrop."

"Deal!"

"And bring actual MULA this time or else we won't have our little discussion". Crud.

"...."

"What are you thinking Sage?" No response. I paid one hundred fifty dollars for this after BEGGING both my folks (who think I'm using it to enroll in some after school sport) to slide me some cash so that I can 'better myself as an individual and actually do something with my time as well'. Lies are no good.

"Shh! Let me think, please!" Sage subverts their attention from me back onto the tarot cards laid in front of them----exactly where the bone anklet (bonklet) lay in silence

Ten minutes pass before Sage gives me the break down. "So, as I've said before. The anklet carries some heavy energy, something similar to passion and justice. Very potent stuff. That's what the spirit realm is saying, anyway. When you were---ahem--- HIGH----"

At this point I look away

"...You honed into that energy and that's why you heard the voice"

"Hm. So, how do I hone in on that energy now? Is it something I can control conscious?"

"Look, I dunno kid. Just, be safe. Meditate beforehand so that you are actually able to chime into the anklet's power source. Don't want to darken the talisman's power or anything."

"Sure, sure" I am literally out the door before Sage utters the second part of their sentence. I buzz with excitement at the opportunity and the best part is? I'm basically a super! Hoo ho. This is awesome.

There's an empty industrial facility near by Hawesome Li Cosmetics. It went bankrupt several decads ago. I'm pretty much the only one who knows about the place. Excellent ground to skate on---smooth as butter. Either way, it's empty and no harm will come to anything or anyone nearby. Any damage that I do will be to the building nearby, which no one cares about anyway. "So, it's just me and you buddy." Blunt in hand, I blaze it up. "Time for the magic to happen."

It's a slow high. The high takes as long as a flame reaching the wooden stick of an incense rod for the high to hit. Upwards of thirty minutes. So I wait. It feels like time warps. So I meditate. So I clear my thinking and reach out to the anklet.

"Mhm, Anklet, tell me who you are?"

"What?? You can hear me?"

"Yeah man. Who are you, why you speaking to me?"

"Why would I tell you? I don't even know yer name"

Tiring. It's like talking to a wall.

"Hey, I heard that!"

"Maybel. My name's Maybel. What's yours? Let's start there."

"Nat."

"Like Nat Turner? The rebel slave?"

"Don't know who that is, this 'Nat Turner'. Just knew my master gave me the name." How progressive. "So...I suspect that I'm dead."

It's not easy news. I get it. But hey, the north won. That's something, right?

"Well, I guess it is....you know, I had a name before all of this...."

"......"

"......??"

"......."

So, are you going to tell me?

"You may call me 'Asim'."

"I'll call you Ase."

Don't call me 'Ase'. Too late, Ase. Hey, how old are you anyway? 12? 11? My name is ASIM, nothing else. Fine, grumpy. ASIM. I'll call you Asim, Asim. Where'd that name come from anyway? What does it mean?

"Let's find out, shall we?"

"...It feels electric! (Boogy woogy woogy). Such power, this wade in...glory."

Are you a God?

"Blasphemy!" Then what are you? How are you able to lay such energy unto me?

Look, I don't know either, alright? But what I do know is...we're both negr---

Black. We don't say that word anymore.

"Black, then... Perhaps I'm connected with you due to our shared skin?" We stopped being related millenia ago. Millenia? Not familar with that word.

"Long, long ago. We don't share any common ancestors. It was all a lie." A lie? You don't believe in a God? I'm moreso spiritual; creation is a possibility not something I'm invested in. I believe in forces of the universe. "But not a God? So, this can't be some spiritual connection. We're too different." So perhaps a soul connection? A link between our spirits.... What else do we have in common? A slave and a black kid?

"Hatred of the white man? Wanting justice against them?"

"War. Destruction"

"Yes."

"No, I don't want that. I'd prefer peace." There may be no PEACE without WAR.

"A lie. Violence is not the answer. Kindness is."

"'Kindness' doesn't resolve problems. 'Kindness' doesn't end racism. 'KINDNESS' was the one that slept at my feet while I was lashed! "

"..."

Asim?

"..."

Andddd you're gone. Great. Well, I'm going to head back home, then. We can hang out again tomorrow. "Head back" means leave. All right, see you.

[ash-etherwood]

Top 5: writing memories, songs, characters that are not blank rune, runes, food

♡

Linda I love you but are you trying to kill me … that’s so many Top 5’s! But alright, I’ll do my best! (Answers will probably switch between German and English RIP to every non-German-speaker who follows me and wants to read this for some reason I swear I’m normal)

WRITING MEMORIES

5.) The entire time I spent finishing my first (second?) longer writing project It was the year 2012 and it was a cyberpunk story about my friends’ and my edgy self inserts riding dinosaurs, fighting aliens and being badass. The plot twist in the end was that my character was secretly evil and wanted to kill everyone. (Things to show your therapist) The final boss fight made zero sense and also everything was incredibly weird and stupid. But sometimes I still think about those times when I sat in my grandma’s living room at night, eating chips and listening to Vocaloid covers while thinking this story was the coolest shit ever. Truly simpler times.

4.) Researching something about universities in Texas for OvF on a rainy Saturday afternoon I have no idea why this memory is still sticking with me to this day (I think it was around 2016 or something?), but I remember that it was just a really nice day and I felt really at peace at that moment?

3.) The entire writing process of Bathroom Blues It was such a spontaneous project and I still have no idea how I managed to power though it in just a little under two months! Also it was just incredibly fun seeing you getting excited over new drafts and I loved coming up with new plot points and Halloween costumes for everyone with you. :-D Truly a summer worth remembering.

2.) FINALLY uploading the prologue and intro chapter of WWBL Not really a writing memory, but that moment was … so sexy and magical. Seriously, you have no idea how long I had been waiting to finally start that story, waiting for the Steckbriefe to roll in and see people react to the prologue and generally the idea … I even made one of those countdown graphic thingies for the designated upload date! 8D At that point I had planned that story for about six months and just … yeah, that felt powerful to me.

1.) Writing the prologue for WWBL When I first started the draft for that prologue I was sitting at the window in my favourite hotel in Winterberg, Sauerland, wore my dark green flannel, had the window wide open breathing in the cool mountain air and allowed myself to listen to my WWBL playlist for the very first time. God, that felt so amazing. I even have a photo of it (which somehow makes it look like I have the biggest football shoulders in the universe) my sister took that night. God I miss Sauerland. )’:

- - - - -

SONGS

My apologies to every favourite song of mine that I forgot about, I have a whole playlist of them, but I think these are some of my oldest faves … (Honorable mentions for Don’t Mess With Me and Not That Big by Temposhark, Goodbye by Apparat, Me And The Devil by Soap&Skin, Heart Heart Head by Meg Myers, Pain and Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace, Beautiful Crime by Tamer, Gravity Of Love by Enigma, In Flames by Digital Daggers [thanks Phi u_u] and Murder Cries by Snow Ghosts AHHH FUCK IT I could’ve just made a playlist,,,)

5.) Vater Unser by E Nomine Starting off with some weird shit, won’t we? I’ve been in love with this song since fifth or sixth grade, when I was just starting to develop an actual music taste and although I have many favourite songs by E Nomine, this one has to be my absolute fave. Every time I can relate it to a character it makes me love said character even more. (Also I think about it every time my mom forces me to go to church for Christmas so … yay? I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even be able to remember the Vater Unser if it wasn’t for this song. 8D)

4.) Wires by The Neighbourhood I think this is the newest all-time fave on this list, I found it in … 2015? Thank you, Youtube AMVs. Yeah man, this one is just … on so many playlists it’s not even funny anymore.

3.) Heathens by Twenty One Pilots An edgelord classic but like … it’s on EVERY playlist of mine. Every single one. It’s just so good. The first time I heard it was on the radio tho, when I was having breakfast with Jessie and I forced her to shazam it because it immediately stuck with me,,,

2.) Imaginary by Evanescence My first Evanescence song ever and the first step towards becoming who I am today I think. This song has like … such a big history for me, man. It single-handedly turned me goth in 2008 and I have never really thanked it for that.

1.) Eternal by Evanescence Might be my favourite song of all time. The number of dramatic RP scenes I have written with this in the background … man. Oh, also this song is the reason for one of my oldest internet nicknames, ‘eternala’, which subsequently shortened into Etschuh and then Tschuh, my main nickname until 2017, when I came out as trans and finally found an actual name for myself I was comfortable with!

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NON BLANK RUNE CHARACTERS

I know this was probably supposed to be about fandom characters but I can literally not come up with a single character right now that I love with a special burning passion and that is not my or one of my friends’ OCs so you’re getting OCs now. u_u And boy do I have a lot of those.

5.) Jackson Tracey from atroCITY (mine) This little piece of shit kept me company for a pretty long time and is still very close to my heart for some reason, although I haven’t drawn him or really thought about him in detail for a while now. My favourite thing is how I only realized what a horrible person he was after I stopped regularly working with him but honestly good for me. 8D His storyline and personality is kinda convoluted and tbh I’m not really sure how much of it is canon anyway (atrc was always a little weird about canon rip) but yeah. He’s an obsessive stalker piece of shit who pities himself way too much and he is also a semi-immortal demigod who likes knives. I hate him but he also helped me a lot with some gender and sexuality stuff so thanks I guess.

4.) Mayoko Imai from Century Riders DXPrototype (Maus’ and mine) Mayoko is a magical girl protagonist with a cool cyborg arm prosthetic and her main character trait was that she was basically a reverse weeaboo, a Japanese girl who was obsessed with American media, culture and comic book heroes! I actually love her concept a lot and she also had a pretty cool character arc in her story (which Maus and I wrote together and actually finished btw!), although it could use a lot more … polishing from today’s point of view. But I love her anyway. She always wanted to do the right thing and be a hero and got broken pretty cruelly and her ending is kinda bittersweet I guess? Ahh there’s just so much nuance to it … anyways, CR3 also stuck with me for a very long time and I enjoyed the time with her a lot. :3 (Her name had a cameo in Another Incident btw heehee)

3.) Tessa *insert extremely long chain of unnecessary first names here* von Lean from Nobody Is Perfect and Infernal Temptation (belongs to one of my old school friends) Tessa is just … a hand full. I love to hate her. She is badly written and developed and just OOZES mentally ill teenage girl’s idealized self-insert power fantasy, but she just … man, she was a big part of one of my most drama-filled high school friendships which I love looking back at so much. Tessa has fucked so many of my characters … good for her tbh! There are actually two versions of her, one is just a ‘normal’ teenage girl and one can shapeshift into a cheetah, but both of them are very close to my heart. I should really adopt and redesign her some day.

2.) Judy Khayat from Original vs. Final (mine) Look, I love all my OvF-characters and every single one of them is special to me in their own way, but Judy is just … the most complex of them all I think? Man, she went through so much … she is actually one of my oldest (semi)-active characters (I created her in 2009) and her latest version is from 2016 but I should really, REALLY revise her again tbh. She has a very complicated backstory that I didn’t handle as carefully as I should have, and anger issues and religious conflict and depression and PTSD and then Vance of all people becomes obsessed with her for no reason and decides to traumatize her even more … yeah. God I really love her but I seriously need to work on her. A LOT. I should also finally rename her tbh … let’s just see where she takes me next.

1.) Okami (I don’t even remember if she has a proper last name rn lol) from Split Realm (mine) Yeah, that bitch is just my favourite OC. She’s also very old, probably from around 2009, and initially was a magical girl with fire powers who I played in an RP with my friend Flauch but boy did she grow up! Holy fuck. Okami is a horrible person but I love her so much. She is so violent and full of anger and pain and sadness and treats everyone around her like shit and she is in love and she is a demon but also apparently the personification of the concept of Chaos but she just wants to be a teenager again and run away with the love of her life and ahhh it’s all so hopeless for her … also she turned out gnc af with time passing and pretty much went through a gender/sexuality crisis in real time with me, her creator, which is always fun. :^D I haven’t drawn her in a while tbh. Should really do that.

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RUNES IN BLANK RUNE

I’m just gonna go with the arcs here, okay? Also this entire answer might look completely different if you asked me again tomorrow, you know how indecisive I am with Blank Rune shit ahha,,,

5.) Jera Look. I know I’m boring and stupid. But I just love Tave and Liam having their disgusting little foreshadowing talk, okay? I can read it over and over. I just love my horrible little shit crime boys. Also Rhy and Phillip are there. (’:

4.) Isa This one is here because it was the first arc I witnessed in real time which gives it a very special place in my heart and it also … hit pretty hard at the time. But having read Fehu it’s become even better now! It’s just such a wonderful, tragic romance between two horrible, ruthless boys and I … I’m not immune to Rhy, sadly. :-/ Just like Phillip.

3.) Wunjo We still haven’t seen everything that leads up to Wunjo yet, but we DO know more than we did initially (wow shocker) and it’s just always a fucking blast. Also, it has the first mention of Ash’s real name … the first Rhy POV (which what the fuck!! I always feel like we had one before but we didn’t!! Wild) and it has crazy blood-soaked murder Tave, my beloved. :///3

2.) Eiwaz You guys have heard me fanboy about Eiwaz so many times already. Eiwaz-OT3 (and Kain) my beloved!!! It’s just SUCH an amazing starting point and there are so, so many things that tie back to it and every time we find out about a new one my heart makes a little jump … und es beginnt von Neuem indeed.

1.) Gebo One of the most painful but also the most beautiful arcs yet in my opinion. It’s been hyped up for so long and boy did it deliver. God, my heart still hurts when I think about that last scene. Also all the dialogue … the golden lines we got … and it’s an arc without Rhy! Crazy!! :-D I just love the relationship between Ash, Astrid and Jakob so much. God fuck I want what they have. Just maybe without the murder suicide,,,

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FOOD

5.) Diese Sonntagsbrötchen wo die Verpackung so plopp macht, wenn man die Folie abzieht Better than normale Brötchen for some reason. Most of the time. See 2.) Look man, I just really love a good breakfast …

4.) Chocolate cupcakes with cream cheese topping One of the first things from a certain baking book I tried when I was getting into baking back in 2019. God they are so tasty. I don’t make them often so I don’t get used to them too much and eating them still feels special but ahhhh I love them so much!

3.) Grünkohl mit Kartoffelbrei und Mettendchen One of my favourite things about autumn/winter and one of my biggest comfort foods. God I love this shit so much. I just put … mountains of Grünkohl and Kartoffelbrei on my plate every time and I will just warm it up for four days straight until there’s no more left. It turns me into a fucking caveman. I’m not even big on eating meat but … yeah. Everything is different when there’s Grünkohl.

2.) Normales Brötchen mit Butter und Scheibenkäse aber ich bin beim Frühstücksbuffet im Hotel Oddly specific but that’s just how it is. Sorry. Nichts geht über Brötchen mit Käse.

1.) Chilli-Knoblauch-Nudelauflauf My beloved. My comfort food. I eat it literally every second day. At least one hour in the kitchen every time. Fresh ingredients. My only vegetable intake. And I’ve been doing that for three years. I just love it so much, man. I cook it for everyone who visits me. Chilli-Knoblauch-Auflauf cured my depression.

[duratrans]

Satoshi Mizukami Q&A, 3/3

Satoshi Mizukami recently took questions from the editor's desk, and publicly from write-ins, for an interview to celebrate the first volume of Solte going on sale (Jan 9th!). So I translated them all! It’s in three parts, so I’ll post them one by one.

Here is the third and final section, general questions of all kinds.

Q: I heard you were pretty impressed by Masakazu Ishiguro's Hero (note: Debut work in Gekkan Afternoon, 2000), and when you met him you said "You're my rival!" right to his face! Is there anyone that comes to mind you would still consider your professional rival today? A: Oof. I don't think I have that spirit in me any more. But, even while myself and so many of my friends are starting to slow down, when I see them putting out work, I do feel encouraged to stick it out.

Q: I've heard you started working to become a manga artist because you "wanted to live in a fantasy world" yourself. If you really could jump into a fictional world, what kind of work would it be? Who would you be in the story? The main character, or maybe the last boss? A: I want to live in a porno game. Somewhere with no danger or fighting.

Q: From any medium, can you think of one piece that you liked the most or inspired you? And can you explain why? A: There's probably too many to try and pick just one, but in terms of what really influenced me; For manga, late 90's Shonen Sunday and early 2000's Afternoon. Then, 90's new-wave light novels. For anime, Diebuster. In film, La Puta. A handful of Sega Saturn games. Some scifi stories on forums, and a bunch of other works on Shosetsu-ka ni Narou.

Q: What have you seen/read/played more recently that you liked the best? And can you tell us what you liked? A: Manga: Touge Oni. It was the first thing I read in a while that made me jealous. In books, The Three-Body Problem. I liked the second of the trilogy best, but they were just good page-turners. For anime, Karakuri Circus. The manga ended long enough ago that it felt like going in fresh again, so it hit just right. Really liked the OP too. Film: Interstellar. Tenet wasn't great, so I rewatched this again and still good. It's exactly the kind of movie I was wanting. Games: Ring Fit. I had the idea if I got a little bit in shape, I might get some motivation back. I feel like it might be working? Just the teensiest, slightest bit. Light novels: I Am the Only One Who Knows This World Is a Game. It's just the right amount of bonkers.

Q: If you had ultimate freedom to do any kind of manga you wanted, what would it be like? Would you want a long series, or something shorter? -Ruha A: I was going to say I haven’t exactly had any restrictions, but actually a few things did come up with Solte. But even still, I can fit in any ideas I really want to draw, so I think things are pretty good as they are.

Q: If you had to put yourself in a genre, what kind of manga artist do you think you are? Sci-fi? Or maybe romance? -Takeshi A: I'm a little surprised to see "romance", even as an example. If you ask me, you can categorize me however you want.

Q: Which character are you most attached to, out of all of your works? -Habu A: Anima from Biscuit Hammer.

Q: When you're designing your characters, how do you come up with a good balance when it comes to the composition and relationships in the cast? -Yoneko A: Oh, man. I just kinda... Feel it out.

Q: I've been a big fan of your work forever! I really like your drawing style. How do you make your art the way you do? -gum A: I dunno, that's just how it turns out when I draw. I've been telling myself "Wow, I need to work on my art" for 19 years, since the day I was first published.

Q: Has raising a child had any effect on your stories? -Tai A: It means I work less.

Q: I want to draw manga too, but I'm not very confident in my skills. Do you have any advice? -Tai Arima A: First, do you mean you're not satisfied yourself with the quality of your work, or you're just not confident enough to put it out there? Don't worry, this is always a fundamental issue for creators, things rarely come out just how you imagine them. It's like how you can only print out photos at a resolution as sharp as your camera can capture them. I recommend you start by just making something. Sit down, do it, and finish it, and you'll learn a lot from it. It'll be up to you whether you show that around, but when you start, I wouldn't necessarily make a big deal out of it, you can just work on it quietly without making a big announcement. That way, there's no pressure, and if it's not working out, you can still stop or take a break without feeling bad about it. You decide how to use your time the best.

Q: When I went to a promo event for Planet With at Loft, you and Rensuke Oshikiri (Hi Score Girl) both talked about how as you get older, you find it harder and harder to stay motivated. Have you found anything that helps you in that regard? -Tayu A: I listed to some cheerful music for a while last week and actually found it helped my mood a little.

Q: I love how expressive all of your characters are! Is there anything particular in your process for when you are working on faces and expressions? -Arbel A: I have to be careful I don't go overboard making the same expression I'm drawing.

Q: I write for a hobby, but I always have trouble planning out how the story comes together. Do you have any advice or a favorite method for composing a story? -Nigou A: I read and re-read what I've got, and anywhere I think it's getting dull, I change the scene or add some exciting development. Make the last thing you think would happen, happen. And don't worry about how to tidy everything up, that's a problem for tomorrow you. Today you just has to lay it out.

Q: Hello, Sensei. I've read all your works, and I'm a big fan, but what really impresses me is your dialog. I love how it always just flows off the page, it reads so naturally. So, my question is, when you are writing the dialog, do you just hear it unfold naturally in the character's voices, or do you write more deliberately like "oh, here they would probably say this?" That probably sounds weird to people who've never written manga, but I'd like to know about your process. P.S. Good luck with the Ring Fit grind. -Kiki A: First I decide how the dialog needs to play out in order to advance the story in the direction I want. Then, I just let the characters talk among themselves, and if it doesn't turn out right, I go back, shake things up, and try again. And sometimes I get good material, but it just needs to be trimmed or re-arranged just right.

Q: A lot of your stories have some sort of turning point where the back half really kicks it up a notch and things just keep getting more intense. Do you already have these developments planned when you start a manga? -TKO A: I usually have a few ideas but it's always pretty vague. I never know if I'm gonna wind up putting in or cutting certain scenes, so I don't worry about it too much.

Q: Do you have one favorite scene or a particular line from your own work? -yamatozo A: At the beginning of Spirit Circle volume 6, where the bad guy falls down the stairs and goes "I've made a lot of missteps".

Q: Do you have any idea of what genre you'd like to draw next? -Umehoshi A: I won't say no, but I don't want to give anything away (for my next work, or this one).

Q: If you weren't successful as a manga artist, where do you think you would be? -Ayuta A: Jail. But I'd be a model prisoner.

Q: How much longer do you think you'd like to continue as a manga artist? -Ayuta A: If I could pay the bills for the rest of my life with 24 pages a month, that's just what I'd do. At some point maybe I'll get to be unsatisfied with that and start to push myself to work more and more until I get sick of it, but no telling when that might come.

Q: How do you think of your character's names? -Takeshi A: They just come to me. I look at how I designed the characters and just imagine.

Q: I feel like some kind of forgiveness or absolution is something a lot of your characters go through. Does "forgiveness" have a special significance to you? -Bow-wow A: I'm not sure. Maybe it's me who is seeking forgiveness.

Q: Do you have a favorite phrase or motto? A: I like Shigeru Mizuki's (Gegege no Kitaro) 7 Rules of Being Happy. I don't really go around saying them or anything, but it's something I like to remind myself of, and helps me be mindful of other people. Also, I like "fortune favors the bold."

Q: You like frogs enough that you always draw yourself as one. What do you like about frogs? And do you have a favorite species? A: Frogs are cute. I like green tree frogs the best.

Q: You've drawn a lot of different youkai in Sengoku Youko, but out of all the youkai that most people know from stories, which is your favorite? Could it be the Chan Chu (chinese money toad), or possibly the oogama (monstrous giant toad)? A: My favorite youkai is Mizuki Shigeru.

Q: You've been doing Ring Fit, and eating oatmeal, are you doing anything else to help stay in shape? A: I put the Karakuri Circus season one and season two OP on a playlist and listen to it while I walk to work.

Q: If you were stranded all alone on a deserted island, what are the three things you would want to have with you? A: Really? Okay. I would bring two essential tools I can't find on an island, and a map.

Q: Do you have a favorite actor or celebrity? -Umehoshi A: Nope.

Q: What's the best kind of alcohol and snacks you've had? Where did you drink it? -Ikaninjin A: In the middle of a hellish summer and probably suffering from heatstroke at an amusement park with my kid, I had the best beer of my life in an air-conditioned food court. And the delicious spice to top it off was the bright sun knifing through the window that I just knew was tormenting everyone still outside.

Q: What do you want to be when you grow up? -Ayuta A: A youkai.

Q: What does your internal mindscape look like? -Rou A: An empty lot.

Q: Has anything happened recently that you're happy about? -Sanachan A: My son is starting to read and write.

Q: What kind of hotpot are you looking forward to this winter? -Tommy A: I'm not crazy about hotpot.

Q: I'd like to go to another event where we can toast again, would you consider it?

-Uta

A: If current events allow.

Q: How many times have you thought about quitting Ring Fit? -Honyarara A: 2 or 3 times. A week.

Q: I know you call it your "100-day Ring Fit Diary" on twitter, but since you've been taking breaks too, will you be going past 100? Will the illustrations be collected and published anywhere? -The Dieting Gentleman A: I'm going until I clear adventure mode, but it'll probably be finished by the time this article is up. I'll probably do some sets here and there. No plans for the illustrations.

Q: Do you have a favorite panel out of all your works? -Umehoshi A: You guys are really focused on my favorite everything. I have a lot of panels I like, not one in particular.

Q: Hi, I really enjoy all of your works, and there's one thing I think I notice (sorry if I'm wrong), and that's a love of glasses girls. Out of your manga so far, which is your favorite of all your glasses girls? Do you have a particular girl you've become a fan of recently? As for myself, I really like Yoru from Sanjin Sadou, so I'd love to see a story with her and her sister! -Bashi A: Glasses girls aren't particularly a thing for me.

Q: When you're doing authographs or sketches, does it bother you at all if people request characters from your past works? If I get a chance, I would probably ask for Hyou Shimaki from Biscuit Hammer, for instance. -Akasha A: If it's a promo event for a Mag Garden title, and you were to ask for a character from a Gahosha title, for instance, it might technically bump up against merchandising contracts, which makes it a little weird (I'm typically not allowed to to create any merchandise without going through the publisher), but my managing editors are usually cool enough about it. But if it's specifically a Sengoku Youko event, for instance, and I'm constantly getting asked for Biscuit Hammer drawings (let's say more than half), that would probably be an issue and they might make a rule against it for next time. Also, I tend to forget how the older characters actually looked. For personal reasons, I probably won't be doing any in-person events like this for a while, though. There's also the whole "current state of the world" thing, and my profitability and if bookstores actually want to do it, a lot of issues to solve.

Q: You usually draw Anima working out on Twitter, but did you have plans for any other characters to show up doing Ring Fit? (Like from Angel or Sanjin) -RYO A: I did, but forgot.

Q: Will you put together another oneshot collection, like Geko Geko? -Friday A: I don't know.

Q: Question! What is love? -Shirae A: To live is to love.

Q: How about this, do you have any questions you want to ask your readers? -Buriki A: Would you rather have: A. One series a month, from roughs to completion, all done by me B: Two series a month, with roughs by me and final touches by someone else

Q: I know thinking positive is half the battle, but what can I do about people who're determined to get me down? Can I give them a Samidare Punch? -Nondakure A: Your fist, and the choice of how to use it, belongs to you alone.

[infinite-rabbits]

Emergency: Please help

So this happened yesterday. I made a few posts of it here and was messing around on tumblr to distract myself from all of the stress, but now the seriousness of the situation is really hitting us.

My roommate and I are both out of work due to Corvid-19. We’re not sure if we’re getting paid for our time away and there isn’t much communication from our jobs. Yesterday we got hit hard enough from someone who was gunning it out of a parking lot that they totaled the car. I know this doesn’t look like a lot of damage, but apparently the frame is completely messed up and the insurance company is going to take the car and possibly give us enough to replace it??

The worst part about this is that we had barely enough money to last over the next two months being out of work. We had rent covered, food, and bills once we pooled our money together.

But now we have to loose a huge chunk of that money because he has to pay the deductible on the insurance.

So I’m going to do what I really wished I would never have to do. I have to ask for your help. Please, if you can donate anything at all, doesn’t matter how big or little it is, you can send it to me through my Ko-Fi: HERE Or you can IM me and I can give you the address my paypal is linked to. If you can’t donate, please please please just reblog this. The more people see it, the better.

Thank you for any help you can give, little or small, it means the world to us.

Full Story of what happened under the cut:

So uh... we ran out of bread last night and we're close to being out of PB&J. This morning we decided to go out and get some more because, well, it's hard to get ahold of because everyone's panicking and it's one of the main things in our diet right now. The roomie and I headed for Walmart, and while we were on a 2-lane road in the left lane, some douchenozzle shoves his way through the heavy traffic out of a parking-lot and rams us on my side. We weren't even going that fast. We were actually coming up to a stop-light, so my roomie was slowing down. He hit us hard enough to make us spin-out and do a full 180degree turn. The back passenger door was absolutely wrecked and I was lucky he didn't hit MY door, but because he hit my side, I'm really starting to hurt now. The back driver wheel hit the median while we spun and it actually hit so hard that it knocked the wheel itself off of the rim and scraped the metal. Somehow we didn't hit another car and we wound up in the right-hand lane completely turned around and facing the wrong direction. I was SO pissed that I got out of the car and screamed at the guy. Both of us were shaking and I was choking because when he hit us, some white stuff flew  into the car and I breathed it in. Still kinda choking on it. (Found out later it was probably the stirofoam that was under his bumper.) I manage to kinda stop traffic enough for us to get the car out of the lane and into the parking lot beside us, after which we realized that we couldn't drive any further because of the wheel being messed up. He stayed in the median and called for someone while we called the cops and the insurance company. Then I noticed there was a damn kid in his car. She was like, 2-3 years old and didn't look like she'd been strapped in because she was just climbing from the back to the front seat to see what was going on. He sped through fucking traffic and t-boned us with a kid in the back seat. This whole time, he's over there refusing to come and talk to us until someone else shows up. Turns out, he needs a translator. That's fine. In our area we get a lot of tourists so I just assumed he wasn't from around here. I would have assumed his car was a rental if it hadn't been for the brand new paper license plate. They get their car into the parking lot too and his bumper is all but falling off. A lady shows up to take care of the kid, which seems fine. But then another guy shows up. Then another guy. And Grandma shows up too. For some reason the whole family shows up and are hanging around while we wait for the cop. Normally I wouldn't care, but being surrounded by this many people while I'm already anxious was a bit much for me and made me uncomfortable. I'd already called a friend and cried over the phone with her and being surrounded made me feel stressed. Finally the cop shows up, gets our stories and our information, then goes into his car for basically an hour to have to fill everything out and get it all in order. Luckily we just get given a sheet of paper with all of the information we need on it. Then he glances at them and says to us, "They're gonna be pissed." He wound up getting a ticket among who knows what else because of his reckless driving. The cop leaves and they're visibly angry. Then one of the guys who showed up approaches us. Something about him immediately rubbed me the wrong way, like I got a bad vibe from him. He asks us if we're alright, and I tell him no because our car's wrecked and I'm starting to hurt. Then he tries to get us to lie. Like the dude straight up look sat my roommate and says, "If they ask what happened, tell them--" I have NEVER cut someone off so fast before. I told him: " NO. If they ask, we are going to tell them EXACTLY what happened." And this douche has the NERVE to say: "Well next time you really shouldn't be going so fast. Then you can stop when something like this happens." Like, he's legit trying to turn this around to be my roomie's fault. Keep in mind: we were coming up to a stop light. We were actively slowing down. The speed limit in there is 45. My roomie couldn't have possibly been going more than 35 at the absolute most, and even that's pushing it. I just GLARE at this guy and say: "NO. Even the COP said WE HAVE THE RIGHT OF WAY. HE hit US. You need to walk away." I'm... I'm tiny. I'm not even fully 5'6" and I'm sitting here in my stupid Jurassic Park tank top and hole-filled shorts just glaring daggers at this guy. Don't you dare come at me with your stupid scorpion gold chain necklace thinking you're all big and bad and thinking you're going to intimidate me when you're outright coming after my roommate. I'm a wuss when someone comes after ME and I'm by myself, but you put me in a room with people I care about and have someone go after them? All bets are off. Thankfully he just got pissed off and turned away. The whole family climbed into the back of their other van except for like two who went into the translator's car, and they all drove off. For like an hour. We were left sitting there trying to contact the insurance company again, making sure they got all of the files they needed, making sure they got their statements, and figuring out if it was getting towed tonight or not. Then the translator and one of the other guys show up and start messing with their van. First they back it up...and the bumper nearly completely falls off. Then they sit there for a few minutes and try to get it on. The guy driving it goes very slowly out of the parking lot, leaving his entire front in the right-hand lane for some reason while he's waiting to go and then finally does. The other guy on the other hand almost causes another accident. So he's behind a truck that's also waiting to turn out. When the truck goes to pull out, this dumbass SLAMS down on his gas, nearly rear-ends the truck, slams on his breaks, and then once the truck is out of the way, he zooms out of the parking lot without properly looking to make sure no one else is coming. I really don't understand it. But from the looks of things, they probably aren't going to be calling their own insurance company. The car wasn't even registered under the guy that rammed us. It was someone else's name of the same address. So he just wrecked someone else's newly bought car. All of it sucks, my roommate's car is totaled and we are gonna see if we're getting any money for it tomorrow, and I'm in pain so the insurance company is gonna have to send me a doctor over all of this. We're out $500 for the deductible and I'm.... honestly really frustrated. All of this because of Bread, Peanutbutter, and Jelly. Thankfully a friend of ours came to pick us up and also brought us those three things, but now the adrenaline is starting to wear off and I'm getting *really* tired. I'm going to get myself some coffee and try my best to focus on the one-shot I started before the crash just to keep myself awake for now. For the most part I was typing all of this here because it's a safe place to store the information in case I forget anything. But also I kinda wanted to let you guys know why I hadn't posted anything yet. I was saying I wanted to do one short-story a day and I fell behind yesterday because I was doing character-designs for one of the other stories. So I feel guilty falling behind today too. Even if I do have a good reason for it. Stay safe out there, everyone. It's getting really crazy.

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 3

aka Caleo uni AU

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Calypso gets a new friend and notices that maybe her flatmate isn't that bad after all.

A/N: Time to introduce Annabeth! I will slowly be adding more of the familiar characters, in the next chapter there will be more (but who, may that remain a secret for another week).

As usual, thanks to my friend Cris for betaing! And thanks to everyone who's been commenting, know that your comments really have motivated me to continue this fic! Please keep them coming :)

And now, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Characters in this ch: Calypso, Leo, Annabeth

Words: 1300+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort (in the future chapters)

Warnings: none

previous chapter / next chapter / AO3

...

It was the morning of Calypso’s first day at the university. The first week would mostly be orientation, meaning getting to know her fellow students, the professors, the campus, her program and so on a bit better. She was feeling quite nervous because aside from Leo she hadn’t really met other students living in the area yet, and if she was honest with herself, her friend making skills weren’t the best. Due to the circumstances at her home, she had never had a close friend, and her relationships tended to end after a couple of months for various reasons. But this was finally a good chance to find other people interested in the same topics as she was, and she didn’t want to blow it up.

As she was making herself breakfast, her roommate showed up and sat down on a chair next to her, leaning his chin against the backrest. His fingers were tapping against the hard wood of the table like Calypso had already seen them do a few times in the past few days. The boy never seemed to be able to sit still.

“First day in this university, huh?” Leo asked. “You nervous?”

“What do you want?” Calypso asked suspiciously, not answering his question. She wasn’t feeling like opening up about her nervousness to this boy who for some reason made her feel even more restless. It was almost as if his nervous energy was contagious.

“Listen,” Leo started, now looking at her directly and stopping the tapping for a moment. “I know we haven’t exactly started off great, but we’re still going to be living together for a while so I thought we should at least be even. So. I fixed your desk.”

“I don’t want to owe you anything,” Calypso said matter-of-factly.

“You’re not owing me!” Leo exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air for a bigger impact. “I… well, Festus, but it was my fault… broke it so I thought it was the appropriate thing to do. But if you are too proud to…” His voice started to rise a bit. He had not expected Calypso to be that stubborn.

“Okay,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder briefly to stop his rambling. “I’ll accept it. Thanks. I guess.”

“Not exactly the reaction I was expecting but I’ll accept it,” he mocked her tone and earned an angry look from Calypso. “I was hoping for something more like ‘thank you so much, my favorite roomie, you’re the best!’” To avoid another lash from her, he quickly changed the subject: “Anyway, I also wanted to tell you that we should probably take weekly turns with cleaning the common area, like I did with Jason. I can take this week if you want to.”

“No, I can take it.” Calypso said with a tone that meant this won’t be discussed further.

“Is there anything you can’t make an argument about, Miss Sunshine?” Leo stared at her with frustration while his hands were reaching for the chips from a bag he had left on the dining table the other day.

“You make it rather easy, Valdez. Also, who eats chips for breakfast?” She shook her head with disapproval. “Manners,” she mumbled under her breath before turning to put the milk back into the fridge. “Now, I’d like to finish my breakfast so if you excuse me…”

She took her bowl of cereals and an orange with her into her room and closed the door behind her.

…

“Don’t forget to get your books for next week, we’re already going to start with…” A professor announced at the end of his long lecture. The rest of his speech was drowned by the sound of the students starting to get up and collect their stuff to leave the class.

“When I signed up for this, I was not expecting them to have full blown lectures on the first day,” a blonde girl behind Calypso noted. Unlike Calypso, who felt overwhelmed by the amount of information she had just received, the other girl seemed almost bored as if she already knew everything they had been told.

“Yeah, me neither,” Calypso admitted, realizing that the girl was talking to her. “But I guess that’s university for you…”

“Right,” the blonde agreed. “Anyway, what’s your name? I don’t know anyone in this group yet but I’d like to change that.”

“Oh! I’m Calypso. Calypso Astal,” she gave the girl her hand to shake. “You can call me Cal, though…”

The other girl took it and shook it firmly. “Annabeth Chase. I’m actually an architect student but I’m also interested in history so I decided to make it my minor subject. I guess that means I’ll be seeing you a lot this semester!”

“Oh, that’s cool!” Calypso exclaimed. “I like drawing too but I doubt I would actually be good enough to design buildings.”

“There’s a lot that you need to take into account when designing,” Annabeth agreed, “but practice makes perfect.” As the girls passed a window that showed them the beautiful old main building of their university, she gestured at it and added: “One day I’d love to design something that will make people stop and say ‘hey, did you know this building was designed by none other than Annabeth Chase?’”

“To be honest, I haven’t thought that far,” Calypso admitted. “This is all still so new to me, I’ve been…” She decided she didn’t want to reveal her home circumstances to someone she had just met so she changed her approach: “well, there’s a lot I still want to experience so I have not devoted myself to just one path yet. I came here because I needed to get away, and history was an easy choice because I’ve always been interested in it. I still don’t picture myself researching the past events for the rest of my life.”

Annabeth nodded understandingly. “I think a lot of people of our age feel that way. My boyfriend… Well, now he’s having a swimming career but we both know that isn’t gonna last forever so I’ve been trying to get him to think of other possibilities for when he no longer feels the passion for competing. But he doesn’t see it the same way, he says I always plan too much ahead. Which I guess may be partially true,” she chuckled and rubbed the back of her head awkwardly, feeling she may have revealed a bit too much.

“Yeah. I like to go with a similar ‘go with the flow’ attitude as well.” In her head Calypso added: ‘because of what happened at home’.

“Anyway,” Annabeth decided to change the topic when she noticed Calypso had gone quiet. “This is a bit of a random question, but are you familiar with this town yet?”

“No, not yet.” Calypso shook her head. “I moved here only a week ago.”

“In that case, would you like me to show around some day?” Annabeth asked, opening her phone calendar. “I’d have time for example tomorrow.”

“Oh, sure, that would be great!” Calypso said. “Definitely beats listening to my roommate’s tinkering all day long.”

“Tinkering? You wouldn’t happen to be flatmates with Leo Valdez?” Annabeth connected the dots. The campus wasn’t that big and he had heard some stories through her boyfriend about one very enthusiastic mechanic.

“Unfortunately, I am. How did you know?” Calypso asked curiously.

“Oh, he has a bit of a reputation here,” Annabeth said mischievously. When Calypso looked at her suspiciously, she added: “I’m just kidding, my boyfriend is good friends with one guy named Jason who used to be Leo’s flatmate. I’ve never met him but I did keep hearing that he was constantly building something in his room. And also, Leo likes making a number of himself so he has put plenty of flashy ads on the uni bulletin boards telling about his mechanic business.”

“I guess I should have known that,” Calypso facepalmed.

“You don’t seem to like him very much, do you?” Annabeth asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Um…” Calypso wasn’t sure why she was revealing all this to a stranger, but it just felt right. “Our chemistry just… isn’t working. We’re very different and…” She tried to think of other reasons for their issues, which turned out to be harder than she expected. She realized that she didn’t really know him yet. “Uh, his dog broke my desk on the day I moved in and I’ve been mad at him ever since. He did apologize but… something about his attitude irks me. I don’t even know what it is.”

Annabeth’s mouth curled up a bit in amusement. She wanted to say that sounded a lot like her relationship with her boyfriend Percy had started. “That happens sometimes. Maybe… give him another chance, though. I mean, I don’t really know him or anything but sometimes the first impressions aren’t the best ones. You haven’t been living together for a long time yet, so there’s probably a lot you don’t know about him.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I feel kind of silly for complaining about that to a stranger. But thanks for listening!”

“No problem! Listen, I should get going now because I have a meeting with some architect friends but I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah! You bet!”

The girls quickly exchanged their phone numbers before separating to their own ways. As Calypso was walking towards her flat, though, she felt a small smile spread on her face. Maybe she had just made her first friend.

..

When Calypso got inside, to her surprise she found her broken desk waiting for her near her room. Only, it wasn’t broken anymore. She had wondered where it had disappeared after the incident but hadn’t really given it too much thought considering the state of the desk, thinking that Leo might have taken it to a recycling center or something. However, it turned out he had done a lot more than that. The broken board had been replaced with a new one and he had also sandpapered the surface, painted it and varnished it so it looked better than it had looked when it was brand new. Calypso could only stare with an open mouth at the fine job he had done. Once she had finally recovered from the surprise a bit, she yelled:

“Valdez!”

“¿Sí?” he peeked from his room, not sure what to expect. To his surprise, he saw the first genuine smile he had seen on her face.

“Would you like to help me to carry this into my room?” she asked in a friendly manner, still smiling. Leo took that as a win and agreed to help.

When they were done, Calypso did another thing that surprised both herself and him: she gently touched his arm and said: “Thanks. It looks good. And I mean it.”

“Leo Valdez, always ready to help.” He made a silly bowing gesture that made Calypso snort.

“You know, maybe you’re not quite so bad after all.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time,” he said, but there were no ill feelings behind his words.

“Now go before I change my mind,” Calypso said playfully. Leo gave her his signature grin and as he left the room, he felt he had finally managed to crack her cover a bit.

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

Oliver Twist and Little Orphan Annie

PART TWENTY OF THE DO YOU SEE HER FACE? SERIES

Pairing: Jess Mariano x Original Character (Ella Stevens)

Warnings: discussions of physical/emotional abuse, anxiety about future, serious angst, plentiful pop culture references

Word Count: 5.8K

Summary: As graduation approaches, Ella and Jess paint a room, and attend a party.

“How have you never painted a room before?” Ella asked, tiling her head at Jess as she guided his hand, armed with a roller, up and down.

A creamy white streaked the wall in stark contrast with the old color, giving off pungent fumes. Her one window was opened all the way, letting in the late May air. Rain poured on Stars Hollow, a thunderstorm which brought humidity and lightning. The sky had faded to a dark greenish-gray, a dull bruise. But Ella felt her spirits lifted high. Lorelai had paint leftover from redoing the Independence Inn following the fire, and she’d given it all to Ella. Sometimes, she didn’t know what she would do without the Gilmore matriarch. If she had to stay in her room during college, the least she could do was have a new mural. Three of the walls would be soft eggshell, while she had yet to decide the exact design of the one behind her bed. She had a lot of purple to use, and was thinking something floral. But the base coat was all they needed for the day.

Jess had volunteered rather than been recruited, but it quickly became clear to Ella that he had no idea what he was doing. His first few strokes were patchy at best, textured at worst. She was thankful Luke hadn’t gotten a new apartment back when they were thinking of moving. The plan then had been to have Jess paint it. Ella could only imagine the quarrels which would have ensued. As she guided Jess’s hand, she maneuvered around the mattress in the center of the room, piled high with almost all her belongings and surrounded by layers of plastic to protect the carpet.

“We can’t all be Michelangelo,” he quipped, frustrated with his clear incompetence. In theory, painting a room evenly wasn’t hard. But, a perpetual renter, he had zero experience. Theory was proving much different than practice.

Ella snorted a laugh. “Jess, it’s not the Sistine Chapel. You’re painting one wall with one color.”

“Easy for you to say. You paint all the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have to help. Just don’t apply too much pressure. We’ll have to do a few coats, but that’s the only way to make it look good.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jess grumbled as she stepped away from him, going to her own paint tray and prepping her roller for the wall next to his.

“I know you will, James Dean,” Ella said, more sincerely than he was expecting.

Smiling a tiny smile, Jess glanced over his shoulder at her. Her hair, held away from her face in a black bandana, fell down her back. The old Pixies t-shirt she wore rose up as she reached high on her tiptoes, exposing the dimples in her back, above the waistband of her worn jeans. His stomach buzzed with pleasant butterflies as he turned back to the wall.

“You write your speech yet?” Jess asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Groaning playfully, Ella shook her head more to herself than to Jess. “No. Not quite ready to pretend to have some inspiring message about the last four years. Also, I’m pretty sure my speech is going to be the last one. I’ll have to follow whatever those student government kids have to say.”

“Well, graduation is still three weeks away. You’ve got some time, Miss Valedictorian,” he said.

“One of four valedictorians,” she reminded him, her tone dismissive. “With the lowest GPA of all four.”

“How many times, Eleanor? It’s still a huge deal.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she said, breathing a soft sigh.

Before Jess could speak again, a quiet knock sounded on the door. Ella’s father didn’t wait to be invited in before he opened the door. Both of them turned and Jess could almost see Ella’s body turn rigid. Jess bit his lip again and put his paint roller down in his tray as Jake Stevens began to speak.

“Hey, Ellie, how’s it going in here?” Jake asked.

“Fine,” Ella shrugged, gazing around the room. “Should be done by tomorrow or day after next.”

Jake nodded. “Good. Don’t want the house smelling like this forever.”

“Right,” she said. “I just figured...white will be a better color for a guest room when I move out, and with the pink gone only one wall will need painting by then.”

“But that won’t be for a while, right?” Jake said, eyebrows raised.

There was almost a warning tone in his voice, Jess thought. In the interactions he’d seen between Ella and her father, it was never blatant. Jake never said anything overtly cruel or malicious, but it was in the way he said things. Like he knew there was nothing his daughter could do to get out from under his thumb. Like he could forever bind her to the role her mother used to fill, the chores and the emotional labor, while still ignoring her as if she didn’t live in the room right next to his. It was such an odd dichotomy.

Jess could definitely understand having a parent who was often neglectful, but there was a strange, controlling element to Jake’s behavior which Jess had never experienced himself. Many of Liz’s boyfriends (and sometimes fiancés, and sometimes husbands) were addicts with less than friendly personalities. But they were never around long enough to establish true manipulation of him. Instead, Jess would fight with them (more often than not, to protect Liz) until they got fed up and left. Then, Liz would blame him for driving the guy away and the cycle would begin again. The last time he’d gotten into a scrap with one of her men, punches had been thrown. Jess had even landed a few himself, but his fighting back proved to be the final straw for Liz. Instead of watching the man walk away from her, she’d sent Jess to Luke. But, of course, she’d moved onto the next one by the time Jess returned to New York following the accident with Rory’s car.

Those men, their main weapon was fear. But Ella’s father wielded guilt instead. He used his words, how he said them, and small actions disguised as discipline, instead of his fists. He loomed over his daughter coldly. She didn’t often talk about it, but Jess knew Ella’s father had slapped her at least once as a child, for talking back to him at the dinner table. She’d made the comment off-handedly, as though it was nothing. As though all parents kept their kids in line using such methods. And she claimed her father hadn’t touched her in anger since, that things were getting better between them, that her father had a hard childhood of his own and he had learned to parent in an abusive environment. But touch wasn’t always the vehicle for household violence. A family could have some kind of love without it being a healthy kind of love. It wasn’t dramatic, he didn’t witness any blow-outs. And though Jake always had a beer in hand when he was home, Ella only shook her head when Jess brought it up, told him her father never got blackout drunk anymore. Not since Fiona came around. But the subtle, warning tone was always there. And Jess could see shades of it every time Jake and Ella spoke to each other.

“Yeah,” Ella said, offering a weak smile. “Not for a while. But I’ll be thanking myself in four years.”

“Smart,” Jake agreed, nodding. Then, he turned to Jess: “And how are you, young man? No college plans I hear?”

“No,” Jess said, shaking his head. “Personally, I think I’m better equipped for trades.”

Again, Jake nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on Jess. “I suppose only time will tell, won’t it?”

“Yes. Yes, it will,” Jess said shortly.

Jake smiled thinly. “Well, I can’t wait to see the room when it’s done. As you were, kids.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Ella said, picking her roller back up as her father shut the door behind him.

Swallowing dryly, she took a second to listen to the rain outside. She flexed her free hand once and then got back to work, humming a Fleetwood Mac song under her breath. Jess watched, hesitant to say a word. Slowly, he began to paint again, rollers squeaking quietly against the walls.

“I hate it when he calls me ‘young man,’” he said, trying to keep his tone light.

She scoffed. “Wow, I’m shocked.”

“Yes, I’m very unpredictable,” he quipped. “There you go, type-casting me again.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if you’re James Dean back from the dead,” she teased, smirking over at him. “Speaking of which, are you too cool for the party next weekend, or are you gonna come watch Lane play with me?”

Running his free hand over his mouth, Jess locked eyes with her, looking over his shoulder again. “Depends. Are we gonna go make fun of everything like we’re gonna do at prom?”

Ella nodded. “Everything except the music. You can come be a Grinch with me, just like at the diner on Christmas.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And you don’t get to complain about my driving at prom. It’ll be a station wagon instead of a limo, since your rust bucket is gone,” Ella reminded him. Three weeks prior, Jess had walked out of the diner one morning and found his car gone. He had heard no leads about it since.

He sighed through his nose. “Whatever you say, soccer mom. I’ll get the tickets this week.”

“Okay, but I’m paying you back for mine.”

“If you insist,” he shrugged.

“I do.”

His eyes lingered on her a moment longer as she reached high on the wall. Sidestepping his painting tray, he brought a gentle hand to the small of her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Scrunching up her nose, she chuckled and told him not to distract her. And he went back to work laughing.

.   .   .

Though there were rips in her fishnets, Ella felt an added, confident skip to her step as she passed town square. The Spring Fling festival banner was still hung over the gazebo, though it had ended with a parade the night before. Bunches of flowers still lined the streets, beginning to wilt in the heat of May. In the back of her mind, she worried vaguely about her dark eye makeup melting off in the sunshine. Her Doc Martens squeaked on the tile floor of Luke’s as she waltzed in, breathing a small sigh at the gust of cool air conditioning. She smoothed down her black floral dress, blowing loose strands of hair, which had fallen from her half-up, half-down look, away from her freckled cheeks.

Only a few customers peppered the red tables, and no one occupied the counter. Luke scribbled on his pad as he stood behind the ancient register, preparing to close.

“Hey, Luke,” she called, smiling slightly at him.

He mumbled a greeting to her, not glancing up. Ella scoffed out a laugh at his disinterest, and didn’t bother asking if it was alright before going behind the curtain and trudging up the stairs. He’d been acting off lately, and though she wondered if it was something to do with his lawyer lady friend, she knew better than to ask. She’d spent the afternoon before visiting Julie in New Britain, and he seemed to have cooled off at least a little since she’d last seen him. Granted, it had been a Thursday, inventory day. One could always expect a fair amount of open hostility from Luke on inventory day. Ella could hear the sound of the Sex Pistols before she even neared the apartment door. Only knocking twice, and assuming she wouldn’t be heard over the music anyway, she stepped into the apartment. Jess sat up in his bed, reading Dead Souls, brows furrowed in concentration in spite of the noise.

Smirking, she came over and turned down the music to half volume. He only looked up to see her as Johnny Rotten got quieter, and blinked in surprise at her. She set her bag shoulder bag down on the worn wooden floor and sat at the end of the bed, legs hanging off the side.

“Hey, James Dean,” she said. “More light reading?”

He shrugged. “Seems that way.”

Clicking her tongue, she shook her head to herself. “I can just never stomach the Russians.”

Finally, one corner of his mouth quirked slightly upward. “So unrefined.”

She shrugged. “Maybe someday you’ll convert me.”

“Someday.” Jess put his book on the nightstand and ran a hand over his mouth. “You look ready to rock and roll all night and party every day.”

Rolling her eyes, Ella ignored the (millionth) KISS joke and cast her eyes down to her outfit once more. “Thanks. I was going for sort of a Winona Ryder thing.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“That I am,” she smiled, standing from the bed and holding a hand out to him. “We gotta go if we want to see the full set.”

Sighing through his nose, he grabbed her hand to pull himself up and nodded.

“Oh, and I finished my speech today,” she said as she watched him go over to the dresser to change out of the shirt he’d worn on shift and into his Metallica tee.

“Huh.”

“If you wanna read it before graduation, I can give you inside access,” she teased. “Or you can be surprised at the actual ceremony.”

“As long as it doesn’t mention me,” he muttered as he changed and checked his hair in the mirror.

She snorted a laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mariano.”

Watching his reflection in the mirror, she saw a half hearted smirk cross his face. It didn’t reach his eyes. He ran a hand over his mouth again as he appraised his reflection, and Ella’s brows furrowed in concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He turned back to her and gave an unconvincing nod. “Fine.”

“Really? We don’t have to go if you’re not okay, y’know. I mean, I want to see Lane play, but in general I think parties are meaningless excuses for teenage debauchery.”

Jess didn’t look back at her when he spoke, turning off his music and going over by the door to grab his shoes. “We’re going. I know how much you wanna see Lane.”

Biting the inside of her cheek, she noticed the storms brewing in his brown eyes. His face was slightly pale. He looked exhausted. When he straightened up, shoes on, she went over and put her hand to his cheek.

“Do you feel sick?” she asked, feeling him lean into her touch though he wasn’t feverish. “You were fine Thursday night, but you closed alone. Did you get to sleep afterwards? I know sometimes if you work too late you can’t get to sleep-“

“Eleanor,” he cut her off, his voice tired, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. Please.”

Raising at a hesitant brow at the shortness of his tone, she bit her tongue and nodded slowly. He certainly didn’t seem fine, but they would be late if they waited much longer. And Lane was counting on her being there. Jess grabbed her hand and led her out of the apartment. And when he felt her give his hand a reassuring squeeze, he had to swallow down the myriad of emotions which rose in his throat.

.   .   .

Lane’s band, which still had yet to earn a name, got through the first set with little to no bumps in the road. The living room was stuffy, a suburban wet dream filled to the brim with drunk students. An ever-present smile shone on Ella’s face as she watched her friend banging it out on the drums, despite how much she disliked the stickiness of the atmosphere. She knew how much Lane had always wanted this, her own band, her own instrument. As they finished up with their first thirty minutes, having announced an intermission, Dave Rygalski walked by her, Jess, and Rory with a nod. Ella was glad Jess and Dave had been getting along so well. If Jess was going to stay in Stars Hollow for the foreseeable future, he had to have some other friends besides her and Rory. As soon as Lane hopped up from her drums, she came squealing over to the three of them in excitement, engulfing Rory in a hug. However, before she had too much of a chance to babble about the set, Dave whisked her away for a private conversation.

Rory smiled over at Jess and Ella weakly when she saw Dean nearing their vicinity with his new girlfriend, Lindsey, and quickly retreated to another room. Ella leaned back against Jess, who stood behind her, near the pristine couch, with his arms wrapped around her waist. She could feel his breathing against her back, smell his pine scent. And she thought for the first time in a very long time that the future might not just be survivable, but bright. Soon, she would be a high school graduate, be (tentatively) majoring in history, which had been her second-best subject in public school, still working at the diner. It wasn’t what her wildest dreams called for, but it certainly wasn’t bleak.

Jess’s breath was hot on her neck as he spoke into her ear, which was still buzzing from the loud music and the crowd. “You wanna go?”

She shook her head against his chest. “I think we should stay for the second set. And I haven’t even gotten a chance to talk to Lane yet. She’ll probably need my sage wisdom after whatever she and Dave are talking about.”

“Elle, I don’t-”

Before he could finish, he saw Dean and Lindsey heading directly for them.  Ella could feel Jess’s muscles instantly tense, his hands tightening around her own, his face stony. She knew how the feud started, with Dean trying to pull Jess away from a fight when Jess first came to town. But, then again, she had once gotten him off of Peter Smith. Only then, he didn’t take a swing at her like he had at Dean. If Jess hadn’t changed so much since then, and Dean hadn’t been such an asshole to Rory, she probably would’ve been on Dean’s side. But in the few times she’d heard Jess and Dean speak, she knew there was fault on both sides. And she was inclined to align with one of her best friends and her boyfriend before some possessive dick from Chicago.

“Hey, guys,” Dean began, his hand in Lindsey’s grasp as they ambled over. “Have you seen Rory?”

Ella actually liked Lindsey. They’d been acquaintances in high school (though in a class of only about seventy kids, one was usually acquaintances with everyone else), and had always thought her very sweet. And she could rock the bleach blonde look like no one else in their grade. It was certainly a style choice Ella could admire.  

Ella shrugged. “She’s around here somewhere. Why?”

“Just thought I’d say hello,” Dean replied, eyes searching the room for his ex-girlfriend, while his new girlfriend stood at his side.

“How sweet of you,” Jess said, venom in his voice.

Ella cleared her throat and pivoted the conversation before Dean could shoot anything back. “Yeah, anyway, you guys like the band?”

“Oh, they were great. I can’t say I recognized a lot of the songs, though,” Lindsey smiled, her voice light.

Nodding, Ella attempted a generous smile back. “Don’t feel bad. Lane knows every song in the English language. And some in pretty much every other language, too. There are bound to be some deep cuts in their repertoire, if she has any say in the set lists.”

Lindsey chuckled.

“So, Ella, I heard you’re going to Southern Connecticut State?” Dean asked, continuing the small talk despite the thick tension in the air.

Still, Ella forced a plastic smile on her face. She knew Rory wouldn’t want her causing any trouble, as the heartbreak was still so fresh. And she’d been able to master her people-pleasing artificiality after her years of serving Taylor at the diner.

“Yeah. Managed to score a spot.”

“Me too,” Dean said. “What are you going for?”

“History.”

“Oh, cool. I’m thinking maybe business, but I’m not entirely sure yet.” Dean had at some point focused his attention away from Ella and onto Jess, who still had his arms wrapped around Ella, watching the awkwardness silently. He just wanted whatever small town, false polite nonsense which was necessary to be over. “What about you, Jess?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going to college or anything, right? Seems like you’re not going to school at all anymore, anyway.” Dean narrowed his eyes at Jess, and a momentary staring contest ensued.

Disentangling himself from Ella, Jess decided not to humor Dean’s attempt to rile him. “I’m gonna go check out the state of that bathroom line,” he muttered to Ella before trudging off.

Brows furrowing in concern, Ella's eyes lingered on him as he went, until he turned a corner and she lost sight of him. Huffing out an angry breath, she turned back to Lindsey, and Dean, who had a pleased expression on his face. Shaking her head, mostly to herself, she excused herself to go find Lane, maneuvering through the sweaty bodies and drunken mumbles.

.   .   .

Balmy air and crickets, Ella finally found Jess again out on the back porch. Most people were inside, gearing up for the band’s second set. She’d had to spend a pretty long time pulling a drunken Lane off the phone to her mother, aided by a still-shaken Rory. The evening seemed to have come to a screeching halt in the hour since the first set, and Ella was debating grabbing Jess’s hand and dragging him out. It was doubtful Lane would be conscious enough to make it through a song, let alone a second set. When Ella didn’t see his gelled black curls in the living room sea of teenage heads, she knew right where Jess would be. The night was pleasant, not quite too warm or humid, despite it being late May.

He stood with his forearms leaned against the railing, facing the lush green backyard, and he didn’t even look back when he heard her open and close the screen door. Ambling up next to him, her boots felt heavy on her feet. The air was cool on her hot skin, and the spring breeze blew her hair from her face. Arms against the polished wooden rail, mirroring him, she waited a few moments before finally speaking in a soft tone. She tilted her head to the red solo cup Jess held in his hands.

“Penny for a sip?” she asked.

Jess smirked. Saying nothing, he held the cup out to her. Taking a gulp of his slightly warm beer, she grimaced and then handed it back to him.

“Thank you, good sir.”

“Who are you? Oliver Twist?”

She shrugged, noncommittal. “Or Little Orphan Annie. Can’t keep my broadway straight. You could probably help me out.”

“Very funny, Stevens,” he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. But it didn’t meet his eyes. They lacked their usual sardonic sparkle, even in the glowing moonlight.

Leaning into his shoulder, Ella took in another deep breath of the fresh air. “What are you doing out here, James Dean? Did you not bring your sulking book?”

“Just couldn’t handle it inside.” He took another swig of his drink, emptying the cup, and set it carefully on the railing next to him.

“Was it Dean?” Ella asked, placing a hand on the back of his neck and running her fingers through the ends of his hair.

Jess glanced down at the ground with a bitter chuckle. “You think I actually care about Frankenstein’s monster in there?”

She scoffed knowingly. “Okay, fair enough. We can go soon, if you want. Lane’s wasted and Rory’s all messed up about Dean being here. And, I think I forgot to feed the cat? I have no idea why I let him stay in our house. He showed up right after my mom died, and kept hanging around our porch. He was already so old and he was so skinny. So I started letting him in when it got colder. My dad barely even noticed. I thought he’d be grateful, but now he hates us. Guess there was a lot of yelling and crying going on when he first came to live with us. But I suppose misery loves company-”

“I just…” Jess began, cutting off her rambling voice. He knew she was still waiting for an answer, but didn’t want to ask him another question. “You work your ass off for four years, and Dean still gets into the same college as you.”

Ella shrugged. “I don’t mind. There’s lots of people there. I probably won’t ever see him.”

“At least he’s finishing high school,” Jess muttered, shaking his head to himself and looking down at his hands, clenching and unclenching them in fists.

Brows furrowed, Ella’s hand fell from his skin and she tilted her head in askance. “What do you mean?”

He heaved a big sigh, looking out into the woods beyond the yard. Somewhere through the trees, he thought he could see the shine of the lake. An ache tugged at his heart, and his stomach did a flip before he spoke again.

“I went to get prom tickets when you were in the art room at lunch today. But then I got called to the principal’s office. He said I missed too many days.”

“And?”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he shook his head again. “Don’t make me say it, Elle.”

Pursing her lips, she brought her hands to her hips and nodded. “Guess you’ll need my speech in advance, then.”

“Guess so,” he echoed flatly, finally stealing a glance at her to gauge her reaction. With her strong stance, he could practically see the gears moving inside her head. There was a crease of concentration between her eyebrows, and she began biting at her nails absently.

“And you haven’t told Luke yet?” she asked.

“Nope.”

Again, she nodded, more decisive this time. “Okay...okay. I wish you could stay with me, but my dad will have you dead inside a day. I bet if you take twelfth grade over Luke’ll let you stay. I mean, I know he tries to act all tough, but I don’t know who he thinks he’s kidding.”

Jess straightened up again, running a hand over his mouth. He turned to face her. “I’m not going back to school. I can’t.”

“Of course you can, Jess. World bites you, you bite back.”

“Fine, then. I won’t.”

“Why not? Where are you gonna go?”

He could only shrug in response, looking back down at his shoes. Sometimes her gaze was so intense, even he couldn’t handle it. Usually, though, it was because of butterflies in his stomach, not because his heart was pounding nervously in his ears.

Swallowing dryly, she tried to maintain a calm facade. “No, Jess. You can’t do that Kerouac bullshit right now. You need a plan. I mean…” she paused to sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You told me you had it under control. You told me all I had to do was trust you.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he composed himself and then wiped all emotion from his face when he looked back up at her. “I thought I did. I didn’t know how many days I missed, alright? But who cares! I never learned anything there anyway! It was a waste of my time!”

“And driving that forklift at Walmart forever isn’t a waste of your time?” she retorted, beginning to raise her voice. “If it made you happy, I’d say go for it. But it doesn’t! You’re too fucking smart for your own good, Mariano! You’re meant to be a writer! And you’re gonna settle on wasting your brain just because you were too proud to repeat senior year?!”

“Don’t talk to me about settling!” he countered, shaking his head.

“Fuck you, Jess,” she said, eyes narrowing as more blood rushed to her face, turning her skin scarlet with frustration. “Not everyone can just go wherever they want! Live wherever they want! I have people I actually care about!”

Rubbing at his mouth again, he sighed. “Yeah, well, lucky you! My mother is a wackjob who shipped me off because her boyfriend of the week didn’t like me! And my father is a fucking loser who couldn’t say more than two words when he finally met me!”

Ella took a step back in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Jess breathed another exhausted sigh. “On Thursday, after you left. While I was closing. My dad came in, saw me for the first time in eighteen years. He told me who he was, took a good long look at me, and then ran right back out of the diner!”

There was a seismic shift in her face, eyes softening, color draining. Shaking her head, she went to touch his shoulder. “Oh my god, Jess. I didn’t-”

He shrugged off her hand. “Yeah, you didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you. Because I’m just your deadbeat, high school dropout boyfriend who’s gonna work at Walmart for the rest of his life! How disappointing!”

“That’s not what I said!” she exclaimed, swallowing back the sting of tears in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, I can read between the lines pretty well at this point, honey,” he shot back, with a vicious, contemptuous tone.

Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to remain calm. She tried to remember Jess had just failed senior year and met his dad for the first time in a span of two days. But, as always, the fire in her stomach won. It was something about the way he looked at her. So cold. Like he felt nothing for her at all. Her heart dropped and she began to back away, towards the screen door.

“Fine. Fuck it! Go and find yourself. While I stay here, and think about what a fucking mistake it was to trust you when we said no cop-outs! Serves me right. Holden fucking Caulfield!” she shouted, slamming the sliding door behind her.

Raking a hand through his messy hair, Jess took no more than one moment of hesitation before rushing after her. It was crowded inside, people standing around waiting for a second set which would likely never be played. After a little frantic searching and weaving through smelly bodies, he found her. She was marching up the stairs to find Rory, who stood looking exceedingly uncomfortable speaking with Dean and Lindsey on the landing. Ella tugged on Rory’s sleeve, muttering something about finding Lane and leaving the drums to pick up later. A scowl crossed her face the moment she looked back to see Jess.

“Did he do something, Ella?” Dean piped up, towering over her and casting an authoritative glance at Jess.

Ella snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You can stand down, Dean. He did nothing. Nothing at all. Fuck off, alright, Mariano?”

Catching the finitive, vitriolic tone in Ella’s voice, Jess shook his head back at her. Apparently she had decided the conversation was over. “Right back at ya, then, Stevens.”

But as he went to leave, Dean kicked into action. Before Ella, Rory, or Lindsey, could grab him and pull him back, he went into full testosterone rage and lunged after Jess, turning him about and clocking him square across the face. Ella watched in horror, and immediately went after them. Confusion painted her face. She heard Dean muttering under his breath as he fought, about what an asshole Jess was, about how Rory’s friends were his responsibility too, and they shouldn’t be spoken to that way. About how it was time Jess got a taste of his own medicine, making him feel like an idiot in class and acting like he was too good for Stars Hollow. She’d never had any classes with Dean and Jess, but the altercation made her wonder how deeply the feud ran. Apparently, much deeper than she ever thought. If not for the urgency of the situation, Ella would have rolled her eyes harder than she had prior known was humanly possible. She couldn’t help but wonder what at all Rory or Lindsey saw in that sexist prick. In Ella’s opinion, the Donna Reed Show incident two years earlier should’ve been the end of the relationship.

All around the house, they fought, various others trying to pull them off of each other. Each time Ella thought she had an opening to grab Dean or Jess around the waist, they moved, jostling around. It was far more intense than the quarrel in the schoolyard had been. No, tonight there would be blood drawn. Finally, after a decent amount of carnage to the mid-century Connecticut two-story, someone managed to throw the two of them out onto the front lawn, still at each other’s throats. Ella yelled endlessly for them to stop, but neither listened. Only the sound of the police sirens approaching, red and blue lights flashing on the manicured grass, finally made them separate, a few boys at the party also aiding the effort.

Just as Ella started rushing over to Jess, Lane began vomiting up the shitty keg beer she’d gulped down all night long into the trimmed bushes. Rory was by her side, but ultimately Ella cast only a sympathetic glance their way before continuing after Jess. She caught up with him a few paces down the sidewalk, grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt to finally stop him.

“Jess, Jesus, are you okay?” she demanded, trying to get a substantial glimpse at his face.

Once again, he shook off her touch. He turned back to her in the light of the sheriff’s car, eyes darker than she had ever seen them. “Get outta here, Eleanor! I don’t need your help!”

“But, your-”

“Stop, Elle, just stop!” he interrupted, gesturing with his arms and practically bursting with anger. “Stop chasing after me! Stop trying to help me! That’s over! I don’t need it, alright? You can just fucking stop!”

Clutching at her necklace, she felt a heavy weight settle in her stomach, gluing her to the spot where she stood, hazel eyes impossibly wide. Watching him go, watching him disappear around a corner, watching him walk away. And the worst part was how unsurprised she felt. Had it always been this way? Him ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and her stuck in her old, familiar ways? Were they bound to end the moment they began? She should have seen it sooner. Suddenly, the sounds of the siren and the singing of late spring crickets overwhelmed her ears, and she could do nothing but stand motionless, feeling a sharp crack in her heart.

[marvelouscaptainrogers]

Insubordination

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Y/N likes to be a little asshole and not follow orders, and Steve decides she needs to learn her lesson.

Warnings: NSFW! 18+! SMUT. Dom!Steve. Captain kink. Unprotected sex. Oral sex (male and female receiving). Fingering. Dirty talk. 

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader

Authors Note: This one took longer than I anticipated. I started writing it the first time, I didn’t like it, I started over. I did that like three times so pls be nice if it sucks. Idk why this request made my brain short circuit. 

It all started with an order. One. Simple. Order.

Among all of your friends, the people you loved dearly, they all knew you weren’t one to always do as you were told. Not to be mistaken, you were undoubtedly a great team member. You always had your friends’ backs, whether there were bullets flying, or whether they were entrusting you with a secret they couldn’t speak to anyone else. You were loyal to them, that much was sure.

What else was sure was that on some days, you could still be considered defiant, obstinate, challenging, and sometimes a little uncooperative. It was who you were, you supposed. If you saw something you felt needed to be done, you did it without asking permission. Consequences be damned.

That’s what landed you in your current predicament.

“Y/N, stay covered back here. I’m gonna sweep the area and circle back to you. There shouldn’t be any hostiles in this wing of the building. You’ll be fine. Call out if you see or hear anything.” Steve said. His fingers worked to adjust his coms, turning the ear piece a little to get a correct fit while you both crouched down on the floor. You replaced the magazine in your rifle, turning to him with weary eyes, and a shake of your head.

“Steve, you’re not benching me. You take the main floor. I’m heading up top to the armory. If what we’re looking for isn’t there, then it could be anywhere. We may have to turn this place upside down to find it. I’ll call if I need backup.”

Steve looks over at you, with resistance all over his rugged features. Even when annoyed and covered in dirt and grime, he still looks like a god of some sort.

“This isn’t a debate, Y/N. It’s an order. Stay. Back. I will let you know when it’s safe.”

That response only pissed you off more. You weren’t a child, but on more than one occasion, Steve had a tendency to treat you like one. You had been raised by Hydra, and you’ve been an agent of SHIELD ever since you escaped four years ago. You’d been on far more dangerous missions than the one you’re currently being faced with, but the star-spangled “man with a plan” always pushed you a few steps back, and often seemed to be reluctant about you doing your job.

“Sorry Stevie. I’ve got a feeling about this one. Trust me on this.” You say, before taking off running towards the grand staircase of the dark, dingy mansion.

“Y/N, that was an order. If you disobey me, I can’t promise you’ll like the consequences.”

Those words only served to motivate you. Steve Rogers knew you better than anyone else. He was your best friend after all. He knew exactly what buttons to push to make you second guess your decisions, and of all your years working with the man, you knew he never made an idle threat. That’s why the twisted part of your brain pushed you further. You were testing him. That’s something you could do to Steve Rogers better than anyone else; test him.

“Then it looks like I’ll be facing whatever consequences come my way. Sorry, Cap. I’ll let you know when it’s clear.” You say, before running straight into the armory.

The sounds of gunfire and yelling could probably be heard for miles. Steve went on with his plan, and swept the bottom floor, unfortunately not without opposition. His intel about there being no hostiles in this wing was clearly incorrect, and he was almost pissed at you for being right.

 When all was said and done, you both secured the payload, and cleared the mansion, but not without some cuts and bruises that would undoubtedly require a lot of Epsom salt and ibuprofen to shake off.

You knew Steve would be pissed, but he was so far beyond pissed. He didn’t say a single word to you. His jaw was clenched tightly, and his breathing ragged while you both made your way to the escape vehicle a couple clicks north of your original location.

Once you got to the car, Steve plucked the keys from your hand and got into the driver seat before you could even get a word out of your mouth.

The ride back was just as quiet, and tension filled the small space quickly. You were amazed and terrified that Steve’s clear anger was enough to seemingly suck the air out of the entire car, and it made it hard to breath. His hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly you’re surprised it didn’t combust under his iron grip. The sky outside was dark, and the only light coming into the car was from the headlights shining on the road, and the full moon overhead.

Once you got inside the safe house, you both let out silent breaths of relief. Even if it wasn’t home, it was as close as you’d get to one until the quinjet would land you back in New York tomorrow. You had originally described the safe house as cozy. It had one bed, and a couch. It was basically like a hotel room with a kitchenette. Given the new found tension between you and your best friend, you could no longer refer to the space as ‘cozy’. Now it was more so ‘cramped’ or ‘incommodious’. There was no more comfort to be had within these walls, at least not until Steve calmed down anyway.

He put his shield down by the door, and started removing his gear one bit at a time while you removed your heavy combat boots.

“Do you enjoy pissing me off?” Steve asks. His voice is low, and eerily calm. You put your boots in the corner and started digging in your bag for a change of clothes.

“No, Steve. I told you I had a feeling about that place, and I was right. There were hostiles in that wing that we knew nothing about. If I had sat still, I could’ve been a sitting duck just waiting to be executed. Not to mention, you would’ve been taking all of those assholes on by yourself.” You say. No sooner than the words can leave your mouth, Steve makes a few long strides across the room, grips your waist in his hands and slams your back against the wall. A gasp falls from your throat, looking up at him with eyes full of fear, annoyance, frustration, excitement, and arousal. Steve can see all of these things burning within your irises, yet you can only see anger and a hint of mischief in his.

“I told you there’d be consequences if you didn’t listen. If you can’t learn to follow my orders out there, then I’m gonna have to teach you. Right here and now.” He says, gripping the zipper of your suit and tugging it down in one swift pull, exposing the swells of your breasts over your black lace bra. His lips are on yours in less than a second, and it catches you by surprise. With your lace covered breasts being exposed to the air of the room and his gaze, you were already starting to feel the slightest spark between your legs, but with him kissing you this way, it turned that spark into a flame in seconds.

Your hands move up to his suit, all but fighting with it to get it off. Once his bare shoulders are exposed to your touch, you both let out a small sigh against each other’s lips. You grip the material in your fists, before pulling it off with a strong force. His lips continue to devour your own, and you moan into it when you feel his hands running up your body, and slipping inside your open suit to grope your breasts. He pulls his mouth from yours, and you lean forward, trying to connect to him again, but he stops you with a hand on your chest.

“This suit… Tony had the right idea when he designed it. It fits you like a glove, showing off every single curve that you’d been hiding under your clothes… As good as it looks on, I want it off.” He says, his hands jerking the material off your shoulders and down your arms. You take the initiative to push it off your hips, and letting it fall to the floor where you can kick it aside.

“Steve pleas-“

“Captain. You will call me Captain, or I’ll stop. I don’t care if you have to lay here and finish yourself off while I watch. You do as I say, or you get nothing. Do you understand?” He seethes, watching as every previous emotion fades from your current expression, only leaving one look on your face. A look of lust, and need. His hand moves up to roughly grip your jaw, but not hard enough to injure you.

“Do. You. Understand?” He growls. Your body shivers against him, and it’s as if every defiant part of you was just thrown out the window.

“Yes Captain.” You whimper, and he lets out a dark, quiet laugh.

“I see. You’re compliant when you want something… And you know I’m the only one who can give it to you… Too damn bad you won’t be getting anything until I decide you’ve earned it. Now get on your knees and finish what you started.” He growls, referring to his suit that is only half way off of his form as he pushes you down by your shoulders. You immediately get to work, tugging his suit down the rest of the way.

“Those too… Go ahead. We both know you want to.” He says, now referring to his boxers that cling to his hips and thighs. You can see the outline of his cock through the black fabric, and holy fuck is he huge. You shift around on your knees, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to get some form of friction or relief, but Steve notices, and he’s all too happy to put a stop to it.

“Starting to feel uncomfortable, little one? Like you need some relief? That’s too bad. Keep your thighs apart. If I see you so much as shift your hips without my permission, we stop.” He says. You let out a whimper, nodding eagerly as you move your thighs about six inches apart, and the air of the room rushes over your lace covered slit, making you quietly sigh as you slowly tug down his boxers, freeing his hard length that now looms in front of your face.

“Seems the only thing that pretty mouth has ever done is talk back and defy orders. It’s about damn time I put it to good use, don’t you think?” He asks, watching as you take his cock in your hand, giving him a few soft tugs.

“Yes, Captain. May I taste you?” You ask, running your thumb over the slit on the underside of his tip. He hisses, reaching down to sweep a stray strand of hair from your face.

“Asking for permission? Would you look at that? We’re making progress already. C’mere. Let me feel that pretty mouth around me, sweetheart.” He says, gently pushing your hair out of your face as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around his tip and hollowing your cheeks. Steve’s head falls back, his breathing speeding up when he feels you take more of him in.

“That’s it, baby. How much can you take? Can you take all of me?” He asks. You look up at him through your lashes and nodding. He smirks almost maliciously before pushing his hips forward. Your fingers grip at his muscular thighs as his tip slowly pushes further and further down your throat, until your nose is embedded in the neatly trimmed patch of hair over his member, and his balls press against your chin. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and Steve groans when he hears and feels you gagging around him.

“Oh fuck, baby. You look so good like this.” He says breathily, placing a hand on the side of your face and holding you there as he pulls his hips back, and then thrusts forward.

“You want me to fuck your throat, baby? Can you handle it?” He asks. You let out a strangled whimper, attempting to nod to the best of your ability. Steve lets out a deep groan coming deep from his chest, before pulling his hips back once more and thrusting into your mouth repeatedly.

After about thirty seconds of it, you can feel your saliva dripping down your chin, and tears staining your cheeks, but that’s nothing compared to the wetness that you can feel starting to drip down your thighs, having already filled your panties with your slick.

Steve pulls out of your mouth with a strangled groan, looking down at you with a proud look on his features.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Much more of that and you’re gonna make me cum in that pretty mouth.” He says, pulling you up from the floor to stand in front of him.

“I want you to, Captain. I want to taste all of you.” You say, words almost coming out as a whisper. Steve smirks down at you, thumbing away the tears on your cheeks.

“My pretty girl. So eager to please your Captain. I appreciate that, baby. But you still need your punishment for disobeying me.” He says, pushing you toward the bed until you fall forward onto it, your hands running over the soft bedding.

“Ass up.” He orders, stroking his cock in his hand. He can’t help but just stand there for a moment and admire your body. Unbeknownst to you, he had spent many hours over past years fantasizing what it would be like to have you like this. You both aren’t very far into it yet, but already, it has exceeded his hopes and expectations.

You do as you’re told, hearing some shuffling behind you that you assume is Steve removing his boots and kicking his suit off his ankles. You feel the bed dip behind you, and you hear a deep breath, as his finger runs up your inner thigh.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re dripping down your thighs already.” He says, swiping your juices from your skin and bringing the finger to his mouth, sucking it clean.

“Are you ready for your punishment?” He asks, making your entire body tense up out of both excitement and a bit of fear.

“Y-Yes Captain.”

Just as the words leave your mouth, his hand comes down hard on your ass, leaving a stinging pain that goes straight to your core.

“You think ten or twenty?” He asks, his hands firmly gripping the supple flesh of your ass, kneading it roughly as you press the side of your face into the sheets.

“T-Ten.” You whimper, and Steve chuckles behind you.

“I don’t know, little one. I think you deserve twenty… Why don’t we compromise and say fifteen. Does that sound good to you, princess?” He asks.

“Yes Captain.”

“Good. Count them.” He replies, before landing the second smack.

“Two!... Three!... Four!... F-Five!... Six!... Seven!...”

Each number you call out sounds more and more like a moan, and Steve takes notice of the juices starting to drip down your thigh once more.

“Eight!... Nine!... Ten!... Ahh! Eleven!”

His blows start getting harder after ten, only increasing the force in each hit, until you finally reach the last one. Your ass is prickling with heat, and you knew for a fact that you’d be bruised in the morning.

“FIFTEEN! F-FUCK!” You scream, your fists gripping the sheets so hard you’re surprised you’re not ripping them. Steve’s hands move smoothly over your backside, and you feel his soft lips against the hot skin.

“Good girl. You did so good, princess.” He says, still peppering open mouthed kisses to your reddened flesh.

“Fuck Captain… Your lips feel so good on me.” You whine, making him chuckle against your skin. His hands move up a bit, fingers tracing the outline of your black lace thong.

“Never thought you’d wear such pretty lingerie under your suit, baby. Almost looks like you were anticipating this… Were you?” He asks. A chill runs up your spine before answering.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Captain… When Nat found out we were going on this mission together, she told me to be prepared.” You say, making Steve smirk behind you.

“Well I’ll have to thank Natasha when we get home. Now, how long have you wanted this, baby?” He asks, his thumbs slowly grazing the creases where your thighs meet your cunt, and he gently pulls them apart, your thong still covering your slit.

“So fucking long, Captain.” You whine, pushing your hips back to try and find a bit more of his touch, which only earns you another smack on your ass.

“Fuck! Captain please! I need you to touch me!” You moan.

“Patience, baby. We’ll get there… Now tell me, have you gotten off thinking of me?” He asks, and you can feel his breath against your dripping pussy, making it harder and harder to answer.

“Y-Yes Captain. So many times. Please touch me. I need…  I need more.” You whine.

“I’ll give you more if you talk to me, baby. When you touched yourself, what did you think of?” He asks, his lips still pressing to various places on your ass and the back of your thighs.

“I thought of… Of you when you’re working out. When you’re dripping with sweat, and I imagined you fucking me in the shower of the locker room.” You moan, feeling his fingers hook under the thin lace of your thong, slowly slipping it over your ass, and down your legs.

“Mhmm. What else?” He asks, lifting one knee at a time to fully remove your panties and discard them to the floor.

“When we’re in a meeting, I think about you plowing me into the table in the conference room.”

“Fuck baby… What else?” He asks. At this point, you’re literally trembling with anticipation, and you can hardly feel anything except for his hands, lips, and the throbbing ache between your legs.

“And… When we were driving earlier… I wanted you to pull over, and fuck me on the hood of the car…” You say, words almost coming out as a whisper.

“Mmm… On the side of the road where anyone could see us? Is that what you want? To get caught with me so everyone can see who you belong to?” He says, lowering his nose right over your slit and inhaling a deep breath.

“Oh fuck… Yes, Captain. I want everyone to know who I belong to.” You moan.

“Mmm… You smell so good, baby. So sweet. I bet you taste even better.” He says, before dipping his tongue between your folds, starting at your entrance and making zigzag patterns toward your clit.

“Ohhhh! Oh god! Fuck! More please!” You whine, your fists digging into the bedding as he finally reaches your bundle of nerves. He hums against you, silently appreciating your taste, and the sight of you. Using his middle and index finger, he spreads your pussy lips apart, allowing him perfect access to every square inch of you.

You feel his mouth part from your slit, but you don’t even get the chance to whine in protest before he slips two digits inside you. He immediately lets out a quiet hiss, watching as you push back against him, allowing his fingers to sink even deeper into your soaking walls.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. You’re so tight...  Gonna have to loosen you up a little, baby. I won’t fit unless we get you opened up a bit.” He says, watching your whole body erupt in a small fit of shudders and chill bumps rising on your skin.

“Oh fuck… A-Another finger. Please!” You moan. Steve is happy to comply, slipping his fingers out and adding another, his other hand moving up to press his thumb to your clit.

“Oh my god! Please! Captain! Y-You’re gonna make me c-cum!” You scream. He curls all three fingers inside you, groaning as your juices start running down his hand.

“Cum for me, baby.” He says simply, then pinching your clit between his fingers.

“AHH! FUCK! CAPTAIN!” You scream, reaching the high that your body had been craving since he first kissed you not long before. Steve groans as he feels your inner walls tightening around his fingers, while your entrance slowly stretches to accommodate his thick digits.

He waits until you’ve come down to finally remove his touch from you, then bringing his soaking fingers into his mouth to clean them.

“C-Captain… I need you inside me. P-Please…” You whine, hearing him chuckle behind you as his hands move over your ass once more, then sliding up your spine to undo your bra that you totally forgot you were still wearing.

“Do you think you deserve a reward like that yet, baby? Or do you deserve to be teased some more?” He asks, reaching one of his hands down to his cock and stroking himself, giving him some of the relief that he’d been denying himself while he was taking care of you.

“N-No Captain. I don’t deserve a reward. But please… For the love of god. I’ll do anything. I’m just asking for mercy, Captain.” You whimper, and his hands slowly grip your hips, rolling you over onto your back and spreading your thighs in front of him, then pulling your bra all the way off your arms.

“Lucky for you baby, I’m a pretty merciful guy.” He says with smirk, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

You’re so caught up in how good his mouth feels against your own, that you don’t even notice his body movements above you. That is, until you feel his cock nudging at your entrance, pulling a gasp from your lips when you pull away from his mouth, and he sits back on his heels to get a full view of you.

“Tell me where you want me, baby.” He says, gently gliding his tip through your slit, covering it with your juices.

“I-I want you inside me.”

“No baby. I need you to be more descriptive than that. Where do you want me?”

You swallow thickly, your tongue peeking out to wet your chapped lips.

“I want your thick cock in my pussy, Captai- OHH!”

Your words were cut short as soon as he slips his tip inside you, letting you feel the slight sting as your body adjusts to his throbbing member.

“Fuuuck…” He groans, looking down to where your bodies meet, and watching your tight pussy stretching to take every inch of him.

“Oh my god! Captain! Yes!” You scream, reaching forward to run your fingers over his washboard abs, and to grip onto his shoulders.

He finally bottoms out inside you, both of you letting out moans of pleasure at the feeling of finally being immersed in one another.

“Fuck me, Captain.” You moan, earning you a smirk from the blonde above you as he pulls out, and starts a deep, steady pace that immediately has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Oh god, Y/N, you feel so fucking good.” Steve groans, gripping your thighs and pulling them higher on his waist, then leaning down on his elbows over you.

“Captain! Oh fuck! It feels so fucking good! Please don’t stop! Ohh!”

You’d imagined many times what this moment would feel like. How it would feel to have him on top of you, his body heat surrounding you, having his hands and lips all over you, how he would feel inside you, but nothing you ever dreamt of could’ve matched up to this. His groans above you only add gasoline to the fire in your core.

He kisses down your neck, stopping to suck on your collar bone as your nails drag down his back.

“God sweetheart, I’m not gonna last… You feel too fucking good.” He groans against your ear. A whimper escapes from your throat, and you cling onto his body with one arm, while the other moves between your legs, rubbing circles around your clit.

“Fuck! Captain! I-I’m close too… So fucking close! Ohh! Please!”

He continues his deep, steady thrusts, both of your bodies tensing against each other. Steve grips the sheets by your head with one hand, and his other slips under your arched back, pulling you closer to him as your eyes roll back. With a few more sharp thrusts, the burning in your core explodes and spreads all over your body. You fight back the urge to close your eyes, because the sight of Steve above you gazing into your eyes only intensifies your pleasure.

Steve’s thrusts grow sloppy, and he grips onto your body tightly, moaning your name like a mantra as he reaches his peak. When you feel his cum filling you, you suck in a breath, reveling in the pleasure.  You look up at him through hooded eyes. His forehead comes forward to rest on yours, both of you fighting to regulate your breath once more.

“Oh god, Cap. That was…”

“Perfect. Fuck it was perfect… And for the record, you can say my name again. No punishments I promise.” He says with a smirk, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Your hands rest on his bearded jawline, pulling his face in closer as he pulls out of you slowly.

“What if I want another punishment?” You ask with a giggle. Steve smirks down at you, playfully cutting his eyes as he tugs his lip between his teeth.

“Well punishments usually only come when you do something wrong… And if you enjoy your punishment, then I’m afraid I may end up with an insubordinate team member on my hands.” He says, brow quirking upward and smirking down at you.

“Maybe… But hey, I am sorry for not listening. I don’t do it to be a pain in the ass. You have to admit that ninety-nine percent of the time, when I defy orders, it’s for a good reason.” You say, carding your fingers through his long dirty blonde locks.

“Yeah. I guess I have to give you that. I don’t remember you defying orders and it ever turning out for the worse… Let’s agree to communicate more out there, and I’ll agree to let you do your job. Just keep me in the loop, alright?” He says.

“You got it, babe.”

“Well, in the meantime, our mission is complete, and we get to go home tomorrow… I think we should celebrate.” He replies, a mischievous smile gracing his rugged features.

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing? Are you insinuating we should celebrate some more?” You ask. Steve pauses for a moment, cocking his head to the side and leaning in close, his lips only an inch from yours.

“I just made up a rule… We have to go on for more than three rounds for it to count as a proper celebration.” He says. Your giggles fill the small room as you put your upper body strength to work, rolling him over onto his back.

“Oooh. That means we have to go two more times before the party even starts… Hope you’re not getting tired, Captain.” You say. Steve watches your hands moving all over his chiseled torso, finger tips dipping into the ridges of his abs.

“Tired? I’m a super soldier, sweetheart. I can go all night.”