#i had to pay for the majority of my own school my parents only helped a smidge the first year & im in student debt for the next 7 years <3

[kendallspatricide]

Ok so we know youre not succession rich but what do you consdier middle class to be?

whose asking. who the fuck is we.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

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Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

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[atomicami]

the perfect fit

model!abby anderson x fashion designer!reader

- summary: it’s the start of your new job working for armani as a fashion designer, and your first assignment is to design and create a suit for an upcoming runway event. despite the fact that you can’t stand your chosen model, you also can’t help but find her very attractive too.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, nyc living, reader has a degree in fashion design, reader is a bit of a perfectionist, model!abby, abby’s a little cocky, work sex, fingering & strap usage (r!receiving), abby refers to her strap as her cock, size kink, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: so i was highly inspired by this abby x model!reader fic that i decided to try to write out a fic of my own with this new pairing!! i hope y’all like it :)

also dedicating this one to my girl @whore4abby ily darling 🤍

New York City was always known to be the place where one’s dreams were meant to fly as high as the skyscrapers that rose in its urban atmosphere. It was known to be the perfect capital city for all professions, including fashion.

Living in New York had always been the dream for you, and although you were now residing there for school, you weren’t exactly fulfilling your dreams just yet. So when you had called your parents one day to break the bad news to them, you knew that they weren’t going to be on board with your sudden change of plans.

“You’re switching majors? But why?” your dad asked through the phone. “I thought you wanted to study law.”

No, you didn’t. Your parents had been telling everyone they knew in your small town that you were going to major in law after high school and become the best lawyer to walk the streets of New York, and as a result, you couldn’t help but select that major just to please them.

“I don’t, Dad…If you had listened to me in the first place, you would know that I never wanted to do that,” you tell him.

“Well, that’s alright, law school isn’t for everyone now.” your dad told you before continuing. “What are you going to study instead? Medicine? Psychology? Business?”

You took a deep breath before continuing. “Fashion design…” you mutter back to him.

You can already imagine the outburst he was going to have. It was almost as if you could feel the anger bubbling within him through the phone.

“Fashion?! Are you seriously out of your mind?!” your dad exclaimed back at you. His reaction was so uncalled for that you had to take him off of speakerphone.

And after a long lecture from him later, he simply told you that he wasn’t going to pay for your tuition anymore before hanging up the phone.

Even though you were expecting that kind of reaction from your parents, your father more specifically, you still couldn’t help but feel so…discouraged. You’ve been wanting to be a fashion designer ever since you were little, and your parents’ lack of support did nothing but steal your happiness in fulfilling your dreams.

But at the same time…you felt determined to prove them wrong. You wanted to show them that you weren’t making this change just take the easy way out, you were doing it because you’ve been wanting to pursue this career your whole life. You wanted to show them that you were meant to be working in a fashion studio, not a courtroom.

Fast forward to now, and you’ve graduated from Parsons at the top of your class with a fashion degree, only to soon land a job working as a fashion designer at one of Giorgio Armani’s establishments right here in New York City.

Once the first day of your new job came around, you needed to give the best impression there, making sure to arrive before your boss did. After all, if it weren’t for Tess selecting you as one of the potential candidates as a fashion designer for that establishment, you’d probably still be job hunting by now.

You sat at your desk, eyeing the surroundings of the large studio you were in at this moment. All of the fabrics, mannequins, tools, and machines just waiting to be used. It still felt like a fever dream to you.

The sound of the opening doors of the warehouse startles you, causing you to and some of the designers in the studio to turn around, while the others are still chattering.

Tess walks into the studio and stands in the middle of the room before bringing everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone,” she shouts with a loud clap of her hands, causing the rest of the room to quiet down. “I have decided to put you all in charge of creating the looks for Armani’s upcoming winter fashion show. Each of you will be given a model to work on, and you are welcome to create whatever you’d like, as long as it meets the requirements for the show.”

“But, isn’t the winter fashion show only a month from now?” one of the designers asked.

“Yes, Yes it is, actually,” Tess replies with a nod. “So I expect to see the best work done by you all within the time being. I’d like to see how well my designers can work under pressure.”

You let out a sigh in frustration and held your face in your hands. How the hell were you going to have a look ready in just a month?

Tess checks the time on her watch before looking up at the clock for reassurance. “The models should be arriving any minute now, once they get here I’ll be assigning them out to everyone, and we’ll start today off by taking their measurements and sketching out designs. When you are finished, I—“ Her words are cut off by the sound of the warehouse doors opening again.

You look over again with the rest of the designers to see another staff member enter the room with a variety of models trailing behind her in a single file line. She then approaches Tess to talk to her for a brief moment before soon exiting the warehouse by herself. “Alright everyone,” Tess shouts out again, looking down at the clipboard that was in her hands. “When I call out your name to your assigned model, I would like you to stand up from your desk so they know who you are.”

As Tess begins to assign the models, the sound of a chair swiveling over to your left makes you turn your head, and you see that it was Dina scooching closer to you. “See anyone you might like?” she whispers over to you, her eyes still fixed on the line of models in the room.

“I honestly could care less about who Tess puts me with,” you whisper back to her, leaning back against your chair and crossing one of your legs over the other. “As long as they don’t give me a hard time, I should be good.”

Dina nods in response, she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of Tess calling out your name. As a result, you rise from your seat and stand behind your desk.

“You’ll be working with Anderson as your model,” she tells you, and you watch as Tess looks over to your model and points at you, indicating her to walk over to where you were.

Intimidation strikes through you as she approaches your desk. You can’t really put your finger on it, but from the first impression, you’re quite convinced it's because of her broad figure that stood out from everyone else. You look over to Dina, to which she looks back at you and simply mouths a ‘good luck’ on your end.

Tess soon does a quick check around the room, making sure each designer has a model to work with. “Alright, now that everyone has an assigned model, you can all get started. Remember now, the winter show is a month from today, so I hope you can all make the best use of your time.” and with that, she exits the studio, leaving you and the rest of the designers to be.

Abby has her side resting against your desk, watching you draw out some looks on your sketchbook. “Just so you know…” she starts, leaning in closer to your right side. “I’m like, the biggest model here, so don’t be surprised when you run out of fabric for that pretty outfit you’ve planned out for me.”

You look over to Abby and roll your eyes before setting your pencil down and opening the side drawer of your desk. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you tell her as you take out the soft tape measure from your drawer and stand up from your seat. “Come on, let me take your measurements now.”

Based on that first interaction alone, you knew that Abby was going to be a distraction for your project, and boy you were right.

This past month has felt like hell for you, and Abby’s cocky, conceited persona wasn’t making it any better for you.

Things were fine at first, at least enough for you to manage. But it wasn’t until the second fitting that she’s been starting to really get on your nerves.

The fitting room in the Armani establishment was spacious, each designer/model pair had their spot to do the fittings and make any adjustments if needed.

Abby walks over to your side of the fitting room fully dressed in her runway outfit. You had beautifully created a navy blue suit that complimented her freckled skin and blue eyes perfectly, and the entire outfit had Swarovski crystals sewn all over the place. It was a timeless and classic look for the show.

It’s a shame that your model has to be so arrogant for the time being.

You look over to her and snap your fingers. “Stand over there,” you tell her, pointing over to the small, round altar that was next to you. Abby simply obliges and stands up on the altar to face you, both of her hands crossed at her front.

You notice this and walk over to her, grabbing at her hands. “I need your hands at your sides, you’re a model, not a security guard.” you tell her sternly, separating her hands so each one is at her side. You then sit down on the stool behind you, bringing yourself down to face her lower half so you can check the fitting of her suit pants.

Starting at the bottom of her pants and making your way up, the pants seem to fit well on her so far. Given Abby’s large build, the fit is as snug as can be, but not too tight to where it would make her uncomfortable when walking. If you had made it any tighter, you’re convinced that the fabric might rip.

However, it wasn’t until you look at the waistline of the pants. For some reason, that area looked unusually tighter than it was compared to the last fitting. The zipper on her pants looked like it was going to burst. It’s almost as if she was hiding something underneath…

You tap the side of her thigh to get her attention, causing her to tilt her head down. ”What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the slight bulge that was sticking out of her pants.

She simply smirks back at you and shakes her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” she mumbles out, looking back up.

Your eyes were still fixed on her face, and you grabbed at her crotch, causing her to slightly jerk back. You knew damn well what it was that she had in those pants.

“Jesus,” she says, looking back down at you. “Chill out, will you?”

“Take it off,” you tell her sternly, standing back up from the stool. “I’m not going to have my look completely ruined as a result from one of your little games.”

You were close to having an outburst in the middle of the fitting room since you were starting to get some looks from some of the other designers and models in the room, including Dina. It was a good thing that Tess wasn’t there to see it though.

Abby simply rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat before stepping off of the altar and exiting the fitting room to go change. The two of you were being quite immature about this, but you were seriously in need of your look to be perfect for the show, and Abby was keeping you from doing so.

A couple more weeks pass by and before you know it, the day of the show is just right around the corner from now.

Your shift at the studio had just ended, and people were starting to gather their things to leave, while you still sat by your large mannequin, making adjustments and adding touches to your look.

Dina walks up behind you and taps your shoulder, causing you to pull out one of your headphones from your ear and turn around.

“Hey,” she says. “Some of us are going to head out to Dalton’s for drinks. Wanna come with?”

You shake your head in response. “I can’t, I really have to finish this look in time for the show, I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”

You hear her let out a sigh and nod. “Alright well, just don’t stress yourself out, okay?” she asks, gently squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she says, and you nod back at her as you watch her put her bag over her shoulder and exit the studio.

Once she leaves, you notice Tess at walking towards you at the corner of your eye. “Hey kid,” she says leaning against your desk with her arms crossed, keys jingling in one of her hands. “You plan on leaving soon?”

You let out a sigh and turned your head to face her. “Just let me stay a little longer, Tess…I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”

She sighs back and hesitates for a moment while rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, I’ll give you an hour, but that’s it. I don’t want you spending the night here.” She then gets off your desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, the doors will lock automatically once you leave.”

You nod in response and thank her before watching her walk away from the dim lighting that shined on your side of the studio. You were instantly relieved to be able to have some time for yourself to work on the suit.

However, that doesn’t last long when another set of footsteps enter the studio and begin to approach you from behind once again.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder, this time causing you to jump up and turn around in fear for a moment before realizing who it is. “Jesus, Anderson…you scared the hell out of me,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you even doing here? Your final fitting isn’t until Friday.”

Abby lets out a chuckle at your frightened reaction and shakes her head. “I just came here to get my car keys,” she says, grabbing them off the shelf where she had left them. “I left them last time I was here.”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to face your desk and away from her. “Well, now that you have your keys, can you go now? I need to keep working.”

As you were about to put your headphones back on, Abby began to speak once again. “What’s your deal?” she asks you.

You let out a huff and set your phone down before looking back at her. “My deal is that I’ve had to deal with your arrogance this past month and it’s been driving me insane. All I want right now is to have this time to myself so I can finish this suit in time for the show.”

The smirk that was growing on Abby’s face right now was so big you could practically see it from your peripheral vision. She then begins to walk around until she’s behind you on your desk. “It seems like you could loosen up a bit, you know…” she tells you as she slightly leans in closer to your ear, trapping you between your desk and her chest. You could already feel a familiar bulge poking at your lower back. It was that same bulge that you were just grabbing at in the fitting room not too long ago.

You roll your eyes at her in response. “Is that so?” you whisper back to her, just enough so she can hear you. “And what might that be, exactly?”

Her hands make their way down to your waist, grabbing you and turning you around so you are now face-to-face with her. “How about I show you, yeah?” she whispers to you, to which you nod desperately.

Despite how much you couldn’t stand her, you really couldn’t help but be into her at the same time, and not only has she also been aware of it, but she felt the same way with you too.

You feel her hands move from your waist down to the buttons of your pants, and you look down at your lap as a result. “Let’s see what we have here now…” she murmurs, slowly undoing your pants and sliding them off your legs and to the ground. Once your pants were fully removed, she helped give you a boost so you could sit up on your desk.

Abby instantly opens your legs the second your ass hits your desk, immediately eyeing the visible wet patch that was seeping through your black underwear. “Well well well, what do we have here…” she mutters out, hooking a finger underneath your underwear and shifting it to the side, causing your wet pussy to be exposed to her and the cold air of the studio. “This all for me?” she asks, looking back up at you.

All you can simply do is bite your lip and nod as you try to resist the cold air hitting against your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Abs…it’s all for you…” you whine out to her.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters back. Two of her fingers make their way into your cunt without warning, causing you to jerk back and involuntarily close your thighs shut. However, her other hand makes her way into the middle just in time before you do so. “Nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, princess,” she says, forcing your legs back open to stand in the middle. “You’ve been so bold with me this past month, so you’re not backing out of this now.”

Her fingers successfully go into your pussy the second time around, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. Abby’s fingers were huge, to say the least, but they managed to stretch your pussy out so well. There’s no way that your pussy can’t take anything bigger than this.

But what Abby was about to pull out next was going to prove you wrong.

As Abby’s fingers continue to pump inside you, she begins to undo her jeans with her free hand, effortlessly getting them open and slightly pushing them down to her thighs. She then digs that same hand into her boxers and pulls out her black strap-on, causing your eyes to widen at the immense size. She was fucking huge.

“A-Abby…” you stammer out to her, quickly shaking your head. “That—That’s not gonna fit…It’s too—“

“Yes it will,” she says, cutting off your words. “My cock’s gonna fit. You’ll see.”

Her fingers quickly slide out of your cunt, leading you to whimper at the loss. With both of her hands now, she rubs her cock against your folds, collecting some of your wetness before sliding it into your tight hole. The stretch of the strap was a bit uncomfortable at first, but after a moment, you were shocked to see how well your pussy was easily taking it from the tip down to the base. It really was the perfect fit.

Abby smirks as she looks down at the piece of silicone that connected your bodies. “See? I told you it’ll fit,” she mutters out, bottoming out completely inside you. “This fucking pussy was made to take my cock.”

You were already starting to feel dizzy over Abby’s cock nestling inside your pussy. You were desperate for some movement.

“A-Abby…” you whine out to her, squeezing her bicep. “N-Need you t-to move…”

“What’s that, princess? You want me to move my cock?” she asks, to which you nod in response. “Need me to thrust my big cock in that desperate little pussy of yours? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do just that for you.”

And with that, she begins to slowly thrust inside you. You could practically feel it all within her movements, the girth, the veins, hell, even the tip would kiss at your cervix every time she bottomed out into you.

Abby grabs at both of your thighs, slowly starting to speed up her pace. “I think I can go a little faster now, don’t you think? Your pretty pussy’s already doing so well for me, angel…”

“Fuck, y-yes, Abby…f-faster…” you slur out as you throw your head back in pleasure, gripping both of your hands onto your desk while she continues to thrust inside of you.

One of her hands leaves your thigh and grabs at your jaw, tilting it down to face her. “Look at that now, my girl’s getting so cockdrunk for me…I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Abby’s gaze soon brings down to your chest, smirking once she notices your hard nipples poking through your shirt. She then lets go of your jaw and pulls your shirt up to your tits, watching in awe at the mere sight of them. “No bra?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be such a slut like that…It’s almost as if you were waiting for this to happen.”

At this point, your brain was losing focus, and you couldn’t figure out what Abby was saying to you right now. Once she sped up her pace again, all you could think about now was getting to your release.

Abby now has her gaze focused on the sight of your pussy, watching as it squeezes and contracts around the strap with every thrust. “Looks like you’re getting close, princess. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Y-yes, f-fuck! I-I’m getting close…” you whine back to her, leading her to thrust even faster inside of you, your moans soon getting loud enough for them to practically echo inside the whole studio.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your cunt pulsed a few more times around Abby’s strap before cumming completely with a loud moan of her name, causing a white ring to form around it.

As you began to catch your breath, Abby slowly pulled herself out of you, groaning as she saw a thick white string of your cum connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap before soon breaking. She then ran her fingers through her length, collecting all of your release before soon sticking them inside of your mouth while it was still agape.

After sucking her fingers clean, she pulls them out of your mouth and tucks her strap back into her boxers before putting her jeans back on. You watch as she briefly gets down onto her knees and brings her face into your fucked out pussy, gently licking and sucking it clean, savoring each bit of it as she did so.

Once you were all clean, Abby rose back to her feet, helping you with your underwear and with the rest of your clothes as well. Her hands then moved from the button of your pants back down to your hips, guiding you off of your desk and back on your feet. You stumble a little bit into her at the sudden movement.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, catching you in her arms.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay…just a little worn out.” you pant out to her as you gain back your composure to turn around towards your desk and gather up your things to leave.

“Well, at least let me give you a ride back to your place,” she insists, grabbing her keys off your desk. “It’s already late outside, and I don’t think it’s quite safe for you to be walking around out there at this time.”

You hesitate for a moment at first. You’d honestly hate to inconvenience Abby to give you a ride home, but given that she was the one offering, you didn’t seem to mind too much about it. In all fairness, it was already late hours in the city, and given the damage she’d done to your legs, there was no way you were going to last walking for five minutes down the street. So you end up accepting her offer.

“Yeah, sure…I’m not stopping you, honestly…” you tell her with a chuckle as you put your bag over your shoulder, ready to head out.

You then follow along beside Abby as the two of you exit the establishment and make your way to wherever her car is situated. Abby opens the passenger door to let you in first before letting herself in on the other side. She then starts up her car before merging into the city’s busy roads.

The ten-minute drive flew by surprisingly fast, and before you knew it, she was now parked in front of your apartment complex. She leans in to give you a quick kiss before soon pulling away. “So, I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asks.

You can’t help but smirk back at her, even though you were biting your lip to hide it. “I’ll see you on Friday, Anderson.” you tell her with a nod before opening the door to let yourself out.

But Abby doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, she makes sure that you get into your apartment safe and sound. Once your lights were on, that was her cue to go.

You watch from your apartment window as she drives back into the busy roads, soon disappearing from your view.

And for the first time this month, you have to admit that you’re now actually looking forward to seeing her again.

a/n: i hope you guys liked this fic!! i might make another part if this goes well?? but aside from that my next fic will be bfm!abby for those who are waiting, i promise 🤞🏼 lmk if you’d like to be tagged for when i post it!!

(also ty for 700, i love you guys 🫶🏻)

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for threatening to become a girl's step dad to troll her into blocking me and stop dragging me in a group chat ? Jenny (23F) blew up because I (24NB) said she'd be a shitty social worker bc of her specific autism symptoms + class bg. My gf (45F) said it was warranted because of how  overwhelmed i got by the wall of text with triggering details of my abuse. I never told my GF that the fight started because Jenny called me a gold digger. I also never mentioned that I ended it an hour later by posting pics of Jenny's mom in the chat, ignoring her ranting and discussing the vacancy left by her dead dad*, and how i could fill said vacancy. 😬😬😬 Might of gone too far with this one.

Backstory: I lived with Jenny when I was houseless indefinitely. She only let me stay for two weeks because it would be too "distracting" to her studies. Jenny was incredibly rich, didn't work, and her parents paid her rent for a 2 bedroom. She admitted she got rejected from every grad school she applied to except for the one her mom was in charge of. Her mom bought her a condo in the city the school was in. She kept asking me how she should decorate it, completely ignorant to how uncomfortable this made me and my other friends. Jenny was oblivious constantly to how she made others feel. She was actually the most incompetent person I've ever met in terms of comforting other, always tone deaf and completely absorbed with her own, single traumatic event. She made constant jokes about the abuser I was fleeing and even compared this stalked to a /serial killer/ documentary she watched, but never EVER showed any signs of internalizing how I almost lost my life to another person, how that might affect me or even just bum me out. Seriously, I've never met someone else who was so incapable of even being sensitive to issues that were /EXTREMELY SERIOUS/. Forget comforting, the stuff she routinely said to me and my other friends to try to cheer us up was beyond degrading. It was wearing on me a lot.

Jenny herself was neurodivergent. She often said her autism prevented her from understanding the feelings others had, reading their expressions, and tolerating crying or loud noise-- she forbid her musician roommate from doing both. None of those mean shes a worthless person, but all of those things would make someone a horrible therapist or social worker. Oh my God, literally every time I talked about my recent trauma, she would talk about herself and then blame her autism when I told her it just wasn't helping.

The final piece of this was I had a nervous breakdown and screamed at her over discord that she was a shit friend and needed to give up on social work, for like an hour. NOT MY PROUDEST, but I ALMOST DIED. I was living with her because SOMEONE WAS STALKING ME. and I would have liked to not have my abuse JOKED about. HOW DID JENNY RESPOND!? She began dragging me, through the mud, in the group chat, for, dating, an, older, woman, who, paid, for, my, air bnb, because, !!!she!!! wouldn't let me live with her for more than a week. I was HOMELESS. It became all about "OP you are such a b*tch, you are with a woman twice your age and she pays for everything now but you are still a miserable and angry person. You are so blah blah blah you are an ableist, you said I can't become a social worker bc of autism blah blah blah you have major major issues, Go back your rich granny and leech off of her you useless, fucked up little gold digger."

U_U Then, she started graphically describing how I deserved my abuse, so I shrimply began to troll. And yes, I pulled out my magnum oppus like fucking playing blue eyes white dragon, oh yeah I slipped her a pristine Jenny's mom facebook photo and said "Hey you never said your mom was so cute. Maybe, I could leech off her next and become your new dad." Yes, her dad died.* She blocked me immediately. Its OK. It was knives out for Jenny as soon as my GF gifted me a pair of $700 Isabel Marant shoes** , the most EXPENSIVE thing ive ever owned in my whole life, and Jenny saw me excited and called her mom to buy her a pair. It's, absolutely OK, if I am the asshole. I wear my crown of thorns, judas that I am, but I really, really think Jenny was being cruel. *he died 18 years ago ** the shoes are no more because i fell into my gf's rich friend's koi pond

[lowkeyerror]

Try It On, Take It Off

Maddy Perez x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: Smut, cunnulingus, fingering, thigh riding, dom!reader, sub!Maddy, slight degregation, slight praise, plot if you squint

Summary: You're a fashion major who is inspired by her roommate Maddy, to make a beautiful dress. Though it wasn't your intention Maddy ends up trying the dress on, and subsequently taking it off

Masterlist

Your dorm room was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the low hum of your sewing machine. Glasses were perched at the edge of your nose and a pin was held in your mouth. Your eyes consistently glancing over at your design plan, not wanting to make a mistake.

When you were younger you had an aversion to clothing. You couldn’t have cared any less about what you wore. There was plenty of times that you came home with grass stains on your pants or with mysterious holes in you shirts. Your parents were always scolding you for your appearance.

When you got older it turned out that, you just weren’t a fan of the clothes they bought you. Once you got to pick the items in your wardrobe you began to cultivate your own style. Eventually you became bored with what the stores had to offer. So, you learned how to make pieces that you wanted to wear.

That eventually led to you finding out that designing clothes was your passion. You applied to a few fashion schools in your local area and got accepted to all of them. However when your dream school in California offered you a full ride you couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

It had only been a couple of months since your move. You were a bit of a recluse even with such an outgoing major. The outgoing party aspects of college were lost on you. The same couldn't be said for your roommate, Maddy.

While you were always in your dorm working, she was the exact opposite. If you hadn’t seen her in the bed sleeping on the way to your morning classes, you would doubt that she even stayed in the dorm at all.

You weren’t surprised that the girl always had plans. She looked important. It was one the first things you noticed about her. Her style almost screamed that she was better than you. Whether she was wearing street clothes, party attire or formal wear, she always looked good. It helped that the woman herself was drop dead gorgeous.

Sometimes you’d look at the girl and get inspired to make something. You typically refrained from creating those pieces, but this one was different. It was an elegant blue gown. It was something like an upscale prom dress. Something that one would wear to a gala maybe, but not a wedding.

As soon as the idea popped in your head, you knew that you had to make it. It had taken you a few weeks to get it together. All of the work was paying off beautifully. You were nearly done with it, the last thing being sewing the piece together.

The quiet left the room as Maddy and her friend entered. They were giggling the moment they came through the door.

“Y/n, this is my friend Cassie. Cassie this is my roommate Y/n,” she introduced as the pair plopped down on her bed.

“Hi,” you said keeping your focus on the dress.

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” the blonde spoke.

That piqued your interest. You lift your head up to meet her, gaze a smile stretching across your face, “Thanks. I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.”

“Are you going to model it?”

You shake your head quickly, “It’s not my proportions.”

“Are you making it for a friend?” Maddy questions.

You feel the tip of your ears heat, “Um, well n-not really. I don’t think. I just got inspired to make it, so it’s not for anything particular.”

“What inspires something as elegant as this?”

You scratch the back of your neck, “ Someone.”

Maddy interjects again, “So you did make it for someone.”

You sigh, “Look, it’s inspired by this girl I know, but I don’t know if she’d even want this.”

“Anyone who would turn something like this down has to be a fucking idiot,” Cassie says.

Maddy agrees with the blonde, “Truly a dumbass.”

You chuckle at their comments. They turn their attention back to each other and you go back to working on the dress.

Eventually the two girls go back out. A few hours pass and you finally finish the dress. You hang it up on the wood connected to your bed. The full view of it sends pride through your chest.

“It’s beautiful.”

You’re slightly startled by the Latina’s presence. You didn’t hear her come back in. She laughs at your fright, but continues getting closer to the dress. Seeing her next to it only made you want to see her in it more.

“Is it okay if I touch it?”

You don’t answer her immediately. She takes her eyes off the dress to look at you. This takes you out of your trance.

“D-do you want to try it on?”

Maddy arches an eyebrow, “Are you sure?”

You nod , “Positive.”

“What if I don’t fit?”

You shake your head, “It’ll fit trust me.”

Carefully she takes the dress and heads towards the bathroom.

“Wait,” you call to her and she stops.

You quickly go to the closet and search through your roommate’s things. You pull out some sparkly blue heels that work with the dress.

“With these,” you hand them to her.

She gives you a look you can’t decipher, but wordlessly goes into the restroom.

You wait on the edge of your bed with baited breath. Having the woman that inspired the piece actually wear it. You were doubtful that it would happen, but now it was a reality.

When the bathroom door opened, Maddy slowly made her exit. It was almost like a bunch of still images as she came into the room frame by frame.

She was stunning. You couldn’t find the words as much as you searched for them. The heels went perfect with the dress. Everything about it was perfect. It fit her like a glove.

“Speechless?”

You nod before standing up. Your eyes rake over her one more time, trying to come up with anything, “This is… it’s better than I imagined.”

“Better than you imagined,” Maddy repeats smugly.

You feel the embarrassment start to rise, “I mean- I…”

“I think, you made it for me. It feels like it’s tailored specifically for me,” she says, getting closer to you.

“I- you inspired me to make it, yes,” you look down avoiding her gaze.

“So you see me in the same way you see this dress?”

You shake your head, “The dress goes with you. It compliments and accentuates what you already bring to the table.”

“And what do I bring to the table, Y/n?”

You gulp, “Your confidence, the way you carry yourself, it just gives off importance. Your style is perfect and you’re very… pretty."

“Sounds like you pay a lot of attention to me,” Maddy now stands face to face with you.

“We’re roommates,” you try to defend.

“I pay a lot of attention to you, Y/n,” she admits.

You feel your mouth go dry, “What?”

Maddy’s eyes stay on yours, “I can't help it, you’re just so cute. You look so tense when you’re curled up on your bed working on something. Those glasses are always one wrong move away from falling off. I especially like the way you look at me, it’s like you’re taking every detail of me in every single time.”

“You think I’m cute,” you repeat, blushing madly.

“I think you’re adorable, innocent even.”

The way her eyes examine you, makes you squirm. There’s a tension in the air, something that is unfamiliar to you.

“I’m not innocent,” your tongue swipes over your bottom lip.

“Prove it,” the Latina challenges you.

You stand a little taller. The height difference between the two of you a little more evident. You carefully remove your glasses, tossing them on a nearby desk. Then you close the gap between Maddy and yourself.

“I’m not some shy virgin loser, if that’s what you were thinking.”

Maddy leans further into you, “All that stuttering is for show then?”

“The thing about my nerves is that I always overcome them.”

Your hand moves to rest on her waist, but she playfully smacks your hand away.

“No touching, this dress is priceless.”

A deep laugh escapes you, “Then I think you might have to take it off.”

Maddy reaches for the back of the dress. Her finger ghosts the zipper, “You sure you can handle it?”

Instead of reaching for her waist your hand travels to the zipper on the back of the dress. You keep eye contact with her as you pull it down. When it gets to the end your fingers graze the soft skin of her back. Your focus is only enhanced by the goosebumps you can feel forming under your touch.

“I know that I can,” your lips are gentle against her earlobe.

The dress begins to pool at the bottom as it slips off of her. Maddy finds herself stepping out of the dress giving you the perfect view of her body. She turns around to bend down and pick it up. Her ass pressing against your front as she does so.

You can’t help yourself as your hand places itself on her neck. There’s no pressure applied, but that doesn’t stop her head from tilting back.

“Kiss me already,” she breathes out.

You smirk, “I don’t think you’re in any place to be making demands.”

She opens her mouth to reply, but your hand lightly squeezes her throat. She whimpers softly only widening the grin on your face.

“Put the dress down first,” you tease her in the same way as she did with you.

Quickly she slips from your hold and sits the dress down and out of the way. When she faces you again, there are no smart remarks. Her matching black lace set left little for your mind to imagine. It wouldn’t be on long.

It was hot when you finally kissed. It wasn’t slow or tentative like most first kisses were. It was hungry, messy even. Each of you wanted to dominate the other. Neither was quite willing to relent.

Her arms were tightly secured around your neck, pulling you down closer to her. You finally had her waist firmly in your hands.

She slips her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. You playfully suck on it, which elicits a pretty cry from Maddy. You take the opportunity to briefly separate; only enough to remove your shirt.

Her palms resettle on your body, feeling you up. A fistful of her ass fits nicely in your hand.

“Fuck,” Maddy sighs against your lips.

You can’t help smacking the flesh leaving a stinging sensation with the woman.

“Always going out in those slutty outfits. Probably hoping some stupid guy thinks he’s got a shot, just so you can get off on turning him down. Coming back here all late, but unsatisfied. Playing with yourself as soon as you get in bed. Pathetic.”

You show your strength by ripping her bra with your bare hands. She arches into you as your mouth attacks her breasts. You harshly suck at the swells of breasts hoping to leave a trail of marks in your path.

When you suck on her tits she begins to whine, “I need more.”

You look up at her, “Beg."

You expected more push back from her, but she was quick to comply, “Please Y/n, I need more. Touch me, taste me, I need you, please.”

“Good girl,” you move the girl to lay on the bed.

You hover over her and her hand goes for the waistband of your pants. You take them off quickly before kissing her again.

You create your own path, kissing and suckling down her body before getting to her pussy. The scent alone is driving you insane. You’ve teased her enough.

Delicately you pull her panties to the side and begin to devour her. Your hands find purchase on her thighs keeping them a part. You feel your own arousal intensify as the woman begins to move desperately against your tongue.

Your hot breath against her cunt was turning her into a puddle. Two of your fingers bury themselves inside of her.

“You’re such a hungry slut, say it,” you feel her sucking your fingers deeper into her hole.

“I’m a hungry slut,” she’s nearly breathless from your intense pace.

“Cum on my fingers.”

You begin fucking her faster, causing her to rise up in the bed. The image of sweat dripping down her body, as her eyes were close, looks like a Picasso painting.

With your free hand your fingers begin circling her clit. Her body shakes violently as that final action sent her over the edge. You fuck her through the orgasm your pace finally slowing before you pull your fingers out of her.

You don’t waste anytime shoving those same fingers into her mouth. She sucks them lazily, her tongue swirling around your digits.

“There you go, you like tasting yourself don’t you?”

Your voice is condescending, but she nods nonetheless, with your fingers still in her mouth. Once her mouth is off of your fingers she pulls you into a kiss. You’re obsessed with the taste of her.

Her fingers toy with the top of your pants. She looks up at you innocently, “I want to make you come.”

The confidence she usually carries is gone. Part of you thinks that she's afraid you'll turn her away.

You soften for a second, “I’m not going to deny you, baby.”

You let her pull your pants and underwear down. You’re just as wet as she was. She drags a finger through your folds gathering your juices before putting the finger in her mouth.

Her eyes close at the taste, “Fuck Y/n.”

Your hand rests on her chin, gently tilting her head up, “Can I use you, Maddy?”

She nods dumbly which makes you smile.

“Good girl. Get up and sit on that chair.”

She quickly follows your command. Once she's in the chair you sit on her lap. Your bare pussy in contact with her smooth thigh.

“Flex your thigh,” you instruct.

She listens and the change makes you gasp lightly. Your rest your head in the crook of her neck then slowly begin to grind on her thigh. Small whimpers and cries escape your lips as you use her thigh to get off.

Maddy’s hands rest on your hips helping guide your movements.

“That’s it baby, help me,” you whisper against her skin.

Her grip on you becomes more firm as she speeds up your movements. Her hands now in full control of your pace.

You lift your head up to kiss her sensually. Your hands tangle in the back of her hair, keeping her in place.

She begins to push your hips down rougher.

You whine at the change, “I’m going to cum."

When you do, Maddy is quick to switch your position. She sits you on the chair before getting on her knees. She keeps one hand on your chest as her mouth begins to latch on to your pussy.

She tentatively licks through your folds and her tongue prods at your soddened entrance. You’re trying to catch your breath. Maddy is holding back only trying to clean you, but you can tell she wants to keep tasting you.

When you decide that she’s had enough you yank her hair, just enough to get her attention. She looks up at you with swollen lips.

“I had to taste you,” she apologizes.

“Come here.”

She rises slowly and now it’s who pulls her into your lap. Your lips meet again this time matching together perfectly. The tiredness present, but neither of you want to stop.

“So good for letting me use you,” you mumble against her lips.

“Y/nn,” she mewls against you.

You chuckle, “I’m just teasing.”

She jokingly pushes your shoulder, “So, can I have that dress?”

You pretend to think about it, “As long as we keep doing that, you can have whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted a date?”

You stutter, “I- we could do that then.”

She laughs, “You’re cute.”

“Don’t forget how good I just fucked you.”

She shook her head and kissed your forehead, “I won’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t call you cute.”

You grumble, but nonetheless wrap your arms around the girl. Your head falls onto her shoulder.

“We have to clean up before bed baby,” her hand massages your scalp.”

“Can we just sit for a minute?”

So you sit there, holding her in your arms. Her naked body against yours. The only thought on your mind is her and what you'll make her next time.

[come-away-with-me87]

The Art of Love Chapter 1

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Summary: You've been an art therapy teacher at an elementary school in Musutafu, Japan for the past eight years. One day, you are introduced to a new student named Eri, who comes with a lot of past trauma. While you help Eri move past her trauma through art therapy, you end up getting to know her caretaker, Shouta Aizawa, who ends up slowly opening up your heart back up after your own past trauma. Could Shouta be the person to fully open your heart back up, and possibly even fall in love?

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Pairings: Shouta Aizawa | Eraserhead x Fem!Reader

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Warnings: There will be fluff, there will be angst, there will be smut. Any chapters containing smut will have a NSFW disclaimer at the beginning of the chapter. And please bear with me if anything I say about art therapy is incorrect throughout the story; I promise it's only due to my own lack of knowledge on the subject. I have nothing but the utmost respect for the profession and the folks who work in it <3 Oh, and yes, before anyone asks, Kento is most certainly based on the other LOML, Kento Nanami from JJK. I have no shame.

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(Concise) Definition of Art Therapy:

Art Therapy is an integrative mental health and human services profession that enriches the lives of individuals, families, and communities through active art-making, creative process, applied psychological theory, and human experience within a psychotherapeutic relationship.

Art Therapy, facilitated by a professional art therapist, effectively supports personal and relational treatment goals as well as community concerns. Art Therapy is used to improve cognitive and sensory-motor functions, foster self-esteem and self-awareness, cultivate emotional resilience, promote insight, enhance social skills, reduce and resolve conflicts and distress, and advance societal and ecological change.

- The American Art Therapy Association

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You have been an art therapy teacher for elementary-age students for the past eight years, and you loved every moment of it. You genuinely loved enriching the lives of young minds through art therapy; it was your truest passion in life. Since you were born Quirkless, you always wanted to do something good with your life since you couldn't be a pro-hero. At a young age, you learned that you loved drawing and painting, and you were very good at it.

You continued to love art as you got older, and when you graduated high school, you went to college where you got your Masters degree in Education, with your major being in Fine Arts. It took you over a year to find a job, which was a grueling time for you. Art therapy teacher gigs were pretty difficult to come by. You had to move back in with your parents, where you worked dead-end jobs just so you could begin paying your student loans back.

A little over a year later, you saw a job posting for an art therapy teacher at Musutafu Elementary School, an opportunity you jumped at. You always wanted to work with children, specifically, and thought this could be it. You went through many rounds of interviews to make sure you were the right fit, and eventually, you got the job. And that is where you have been for the past eight years.

Over the course of those eight years, you went through many changes in your life. You remained at your parents' home for about a year after you graduated so you could save money between the job at the school and your part-time job working as a server at a fine dining establishment. Eventually, you saved up enough money to put a down payment on your dream home right in Musutafu.

It was also around that time that you started dating Kento, who you eventually fell in love with. Kento was tall and was very handsome with his sandy blonde hair and warm brown eyes. Most importantly, though; he was good to you. It was quite easy to fall in love with him. After two years of dating, he got down on one knee and proposed to you, to which you happily said yes. Things were good: you had your dream job, your dream house, and your dream man. You were happy.

A month before your wedding, Kento was walking home from work when he got caught in the middle of a villain attack. He got stabbed by a villain just before the pro-heroes arrived on the scene. He was rushed to the hospital, where they did everything they could to try and save him, but sadly, he lost his life. To say you were heartbroken and devastated would be an understatement; you just lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. At his funeral, you decided right then and there to close your heart off to relationships; no one would ever compare to Kento.

After taking a month-long leave of absence from both the school and the restaurant, you decided that you needed to get back to work. You still mourned for Kento, but you knew him well enough to know that he would want you to get back to work and help your students. You quit your restaurant job, and focused your entire life on teaching and helping your students, where you still remain to this day, several years later.

Today, you were getting a new student. Her file said that her name was Eri; odd, she had no last name. Her file also stated that she has been through extremely traumatic events for the majority of her life. You teared up reading her file. For a seven-year old girl's life to be nothing but traumatic was heartbreaking. You were already looking forward to being of help in the healing process of young Eri.

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To be continued...

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Tag list: @lili-pond ; @jaguarthecat ; @big-denki-energy

[jhuzen]

study habits [m.reader]

i offer up this story for my man haitham. please come home. i will die without your tits. thank you mwah. i’m paying homage to my very nice study habits that apparently, some people find weird.

Part 2

“Ride me, ‘Haitham.”

Alhaitham’s breath hitched upon hearing your little request.

In his few decades of life studying in Akademiya (though mostly refusing to join classes and opting to just do it on his own), Alhaitham came across certain breeds of students that classify into studying. Despite spending a majority of his time with his nose buried in between the pages of every book he’s held, he still made time to make observations around the people he finds himself surrounded by.

And it’s no different when the examinations befall Akademiya. Despite Akademiya being known for manufacturing astute scholars from every walks of life (though that took a little while until the current Grand Sage was overthrown), they still were renowned for its dreadful examinations which every single student had to exert twice as effort to pass, or they get the boot.

In a way, it’s how a student proves their standing in Akademiya, in the school that they’ve chosen for themselves. After all, a little memorization of concepts wouldn’t hurt now, would it? Application is one way to exert knowledge, but to objectively know topics is the first step before even conducting a research, because how on earth are you able to start a research study with little knowledge from the correlating topics?

Nevertheless, when Alhaitham was a student, he proved his standing in the school of Haravatat after acing all of his tests. He was an ace that all professors from before would boast to others (ignoring his attitude and tendency to study alone — some of them can look past that just so they can be proud of someone who apparently learned under them).

And he was no stranger to the many breeds of student that fell under different categories in terms of study habits.

There were over-achievers that absolutely refused to settle for less, studying vigorously that sometimes, apparently, their parents would come and visit, hoping that their child hasn’t plummeted to death. And as the scribe, he has had one too many encounters of people worrying about these students, checking in whether or not they’ve eaten or given themselves attention other than studying. Still, he wasn’t one to complain, these people were dead set on achieving the top and more often than not, they succeed.

There are those who preferred to study in groups, finding social interactions less distracting (something that even with the genius Alhaitham possesses, he cannot simply understand). But apparently, according to his roommate, who also preferred a little company when he was still a student, it helps when your colleagues would quiz you, and sometimes even just listening to the question and answer portions your associates would do out of nowhere helped retain information.

People who did not prefer people but still preferred distraction opted to study with music. Alhaitham has heard from a scholar that the beat of the melody helps them put the information into a rhythm that they could not forget either — he supposed that was what happened when he could hear a rhythmic tapping during his final examinations back then.

And Alhaitham sometimes would find people in the dead of the night still by the library, looking remotely refreshed, only to be told that they just woke up and are ready to study the night away just hours before the examinations so that ‘the information is still fresh when the exams come up’. He had to scoff at that, one too many times he’s seen a classmate of his drop dead asleep in the middle of what they have been preparing for all night, some he finds even comically staring out of the blue, completely out of it from the clear lack of sleep.

He has even realized that there were those who were impractical yet still so confident they can stand up against the hundred-item questionnaire — those that relied on stock knowledge, claiming that their photographic memory and sharp hearing helped them retain information. Alhaitham watched them fumble with their now jumbled stock knowledge. And then… there were those who slept with a book under their pillow, with a bold claim that if they slept directly under it, their minds would absorb each information and they would be all set.

Alhaitham watched them draw a complete blank during the examinations.

And then… there was you. The very odd you.

You that hailed from nowhere (you claim), right-hand and quite possibly a father or brother figure to Nahida, teaching her the wonders of the human mind and its emotions as per her request. Since the day he, the traveler, and the rest of the ragtag gang that they formed to plan the Dendro Archon’s rescue, you started to come out of your den more to heed Nahida’s request.

Suffice to say, you were a scholar that differed from the rest as you took on a much different discipline, something far less palpable than the ancient ruins that the school of Haravatat studied, or the fauna and flora that the school of Amurta specialized in and not even the history that the school of Vahumana offered.

No. You thought people are far more interesting than the possibly thousands of ruins from King Deshret’s sovereign buried under the sand. You pondered about how people thought, how they felt, and how they procured the decisions that they make fascinated you far more than the hidden puzzles waiting to be solved and possibly reward you with riches unfathomable to one’s pocket.

You loved people and the machinations of their mind. And so, with pride slung on your back, you studied the discipline of the human psyche and published research independent from Akademiya. Granted, back then, they barely gathered traction due to the Grand Sage’s restrictions — you didn’t cave and that frustrated the man, so your research reached such little population.

How ironic was it that even the beloved Dendro Archon now craves for your bouts of knowledge as though you were her teacher despite embodying the value of wisdom itself.

Nevertheless, despite the genius you possessed, that did little to take away from… your odd study habits.

But you swore to him it works — you’ve tested it yourself and showed him a fifty-page thesis about the efficiency of it. How lucky was it that you often invaded his house when it’s time to do your little studies. Kaveh enjoyed them and even egged you on, but Alhaitham was on the edge of the flat plane of temptation as he watched you work up a sweat on the floor.

His self-awareness was far too great but his self-control falters with every second he watched your biceps flex when you would routinely push yourself off the floor, maintaining a perfect posture that he was sure not even the trained matras could hope to do.

As it turns out, among the other ways to study, yours was only odd, simply because it absolutely served his sight, offering him a delectable show that at the very least, he can subtly observe (though he’s sure you barely pay attention to your surroundings, not when the way your eyebrows knitted in concentration into a soft glare as you studied the book under you).

But then you shattered his little daydream as you asked something from him.

“…What,” Alhaitham’s response was flat and dead, covering up the bothersome jittering that was in his stomach. He absolutely refused to lose to the likes of you.

You held on your position and looked over your shoulder, “I said, ride me. Get on my back.” Then your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “Or are you still mad that I suggested you take the Grand Sage’s position?”

Ah yes. Now he was reminded why there was a small flicker of admonishing that settled at the pit of his stomach. You, a previously outsider scholar, suddenly had the influence just because you were Lesser Lord Kusanali’s appointed caretaker. Your influence, coupled with Nahida’s trust in you, had placed him in his new position as the Acting Grand Sage.

“You’ve done nothing but cause me trouble these past few days. And yet you have the gall to barge in my home and now you have the utmost confidence that I will entertain your unwelcome and asinine request?”

“Yes, absolutely, a hundred percent,” you answered without missing a beat.

Alhaitham had to steel himself. You were either absolutely unabashed or you knew him from the inside out and that you’re being an absolute tease, “You’re as good as a roommate here. Pay your dues.” Was all he said before turning to leave.

“I will pay you in a form of lunch. Name any restaurant in every nation. Just get on me.”

Do you know how absolutely ridiculous you sound? You’re smart so you’re probably aware, but it looks like even that’s not turning out in his favor, “Why do you feel the need to add more weight into your… escapades?”

“Because it’s fun. Helps me concentrate.”

“Your thesis does not stipulate any of that. In fact you claimed that too much can cause more of a distraction than the intended outcome while studying.” Alhaitham rebutted, eyes narrowing at you in pure criticism and suspicion.

“Hah. Check the page in my results, there’s a footnote that the intensity of a physical workout varies upon the concentration of the person.”

You did no such thing. And Alhaitham knows. He read every word verbatim in your thesis about the correlation of the human mind and physical activities and almost memorized it. And from the knowing look in your eyes and that captivatingly annoying smile, you were trying to fish him out of the depths of his physical attraction.

“…Do not blame me if my weight proves to be too much. And not less than fifteen minutes. Kaveh’s on his way home. I’d rather be caught dead somewhere in the den of a Rishboland tiger than be in this… circumstance.”

He absolutely refused to look at your dumb and victorious smile as he walked over to you. Alhaitham had to say, you definitely earned the stares you catch when you would walk through the streets of Sumeru City. And it was all the more endearing when you told him that other than helping your concentration in studying, you liked to be stronger, so that you can take Nahida out on walks with the traveler (should they visit) and ensure no harm befalls either of them.

Surprisingly, you were one to keep your word, as you steadily did your push-ups with little to no problem while he sat on your back. Alhaitham, ever the prepared man he was, brought in a tiny book that he has read one too many times just to distract from the way you felt under him, the way your sturdy back held him up. You barely wobbled and the scribe had to wonder if you were some kind of beast at this point.

And in the minutes that he desperately tried to distract himself from, his ears grew hotter at the soft grunts you emanated, and in between them were deep murmurs of the material you studied, broken words leaving your plump lips that he may have stared at before one too many times.

Archons. Attraction is so insufferable. So illogical. So subjective. So… so… so not him. You defied all logic with your disarmingly dumb atmosphere, only to take people by surprise as you present your hundreds of research on something so rarely touched on such as human emotions. You were Alhaitham’s first subjective thought and it pains him so much.

While he continued to drown in his sorrows about you bypassing his logical security systems that his brain was wired to have at all costs, he failed to notice when you stopped.

And in one swift move, you wriggled around and laid your back on the floor, with him still on top of you, now straddling you in such compromising position that could leave anyone completely mortified and embarrassed.

“Wh—”

“Hey, I’m home. I saw some familiar shoes outside, is [Name] here? Is he cooking dinner? Oi, where a—”

The fifteen minutes are up and as Alhaitham met the definitely not welcome scandalous look that Kaveh gave the both of you — with your breathlessness and his flushed face, he thought of a hundred ways how to convince Nahida to finally drop you from your position.

[trungles]

Hello, long time follower just on other platforms and I love your work. I am currently getting my Masters in Comics and Graphic Novels, and do tell me if this an inappropriate question but how much do you make? Like a month doing comics and art? Also what do you do on a day to day basis? I'm worried about my future after I graduate.

Thank you so much! This is a great question, and I wish more people would be candid about answering it because I'd like creators to demand more money. This will be a very long post! Keep reading if you're interested. MASSIVE info dump below.

I think earnings in comics and books can look wildly different for almost every creator, and it depends on a lot of things. With that in mind, I make a slightly different amount every year. I view my finances mostly through page rates, contracted projects, and passive-ish income. Because I'm terrible at math, I'm just going to tell you how much I make per contracted projects, plus some relevant information in terms of Life Stuff. This will be very long, and I will highlight some important details that people maybe don't like to talk about very much.

Please also bear in mind that I live in Minnesota, away from all my major publishers and editors who are situated on the coasts, so my cost of living is much more manageable.

Background: Building a Foundation (2012-2018)

I graduated from college in 2012 and lived with my parents until 2018. I did not have to pay rent or worry about food, so I got to save up a lot of money to invest in developing as an artist–paying for printing zines, making merch, travel to conventions, table costs, and secure hotel accommodations. This helped enormously, and I would not have been able to spend six years developing my portfolio and connecting with comics peers and professionals without my parents. They were very supportive, even if they had no idea that I was developing professionally as an artist (LOL, they're very proud of me now, but they truly just thought I was being a weird internet gremlin the whole time). They're also not wealthy people by any means. My parents immigrated to the US in their 20s as refugees with absolutely no money and one baby (it me, I am the baby), but they each became pretty successful small-business owners in their own right and were able to help put me through school with minimal debt, even through the financial crisis in the late aughts.

I started making art in 2012-ish as well, but only semi-professionally, and barely on purpose. I was employed full-time in a non-art job between 2013 and 2018 at a local non-profit that specialized in pediatric therapy. I occupied a role as their front office person/corporate assistant. I made about 40k a year at that job, with benefits, and I made a negligible amount of money doing art and making comics. I should also note that throughout this time, I was working 40 hours a week at my day job, commuting between 2-4 hours a day depending on the weather (my commute was an hour for each direction in good weather and up to three hours if it snowed), and then working on comics for 3-4 hours in the evening, every evening. This meant that I would frequently be working anywhere between 65-85 hours a week for five years, and I do not recommend this! I burned out pretty bad! I didn't go to art school or learn about comics, either, so I felt like I had to spend time building my portfolio to make up for lost time. I didn't even know I wanted to make comics until maybe two years after I graduated from undergrad.

I did manage to build a nice portfolio and connect with people who were making the sort of work I liked to make, so the portfolio-building did help. I posted regularly online in different platforms and steadily grew an audience over the years via Tumblr (heyyy!) Instagram (which I personally loathe), Patreon (stressful, but necessary and also getting more comfortable to use!), and Twitter (which I have very mixed feelings about, but I'll miss it if it dies). I did a few short comics with writers whose work I admired. The Fresh Romance Anthology in 2015 was my first major published work, and it was with writer Marguerite Bennett, who remains one of my absolute favorite people. I was so inexperienced at the time, and she would check in with me to make sure I got paid for my work, and then she would follow up with everyone responsible if I was not properly compensated. Not everybody is this on-the-ball about making sure their colleagues are treated well, and she absolutely set the bar for me going forward.

Doing It For Real + Some Numbers (2018-2021)

In 2018, I put together a pitch document for The Magic Fish (if you'd like to see my pitch document, here is a Dropbox link to it! It's just a book report for a book that doesn't exist yet, and I hope you find it helpful if you need it), shopped around for an agent, and found one I'm very happy with (Kate McKean at Morhaim! She's amazing! She runs a newsletter where she gives you the lowdown on how the publishing industry works, so if you're interested in Books, you can check out her writing over at Agents and Books). Then my agent shopped the pitch around to editors and publishers, and Random House Graphic won out. Also, every time she negotiates a contract for me in my home market (the US), she gets 15% cut, which is entirely worth it to me. She does so much. It's incredible.

Random House Graphic's offer wound up being for two books at $45k each, with pretty standard royalty rates, I think around 10% in general, though there are stipulations around royalties that I can't remember off the top of my head (and also bear in mind that you do not earn royalties until your book sales have earned out your advance, and not all published books earn out). To me, this is a lot of money! BUT the graphic novel took two full years to make, so that $45k needed to last me until 2020, which is not livable if you're on you're own. Also, the advance is paid out in chunks at certain milestones of project completion. I'd get a few thousand at a time for the script, another few for the thumbnails, more for the inks, and on and on until the book is done. I would not start to get paid for the second book until I started working on it.

Earlier in 2018, I'd moved in with my partner, so we managed paying the bills and groceries together. Luckily for me, I had also completed a full tarot deck as a separate personal art project to help build my confidence as an illustrator, and my agent sold the tarot deck project (The Star Spinner Tarot) to a different publisher for a $15k advance, so I had some extra wiggle room in 2018. I quit my day job because this was a rare instance in which a book deal provided me with enough money to live on making art, with the caveat that I shared financial responsibilities with my partner. By this time, my Patreon, which I started back in 2015 I think, was also earning anywhere between $800-$1000 a month, which was really great semi-passive income. I'd post process shots and WIPs a couple times a week, and that really helped from month to month.

In 2020, The Magic Fish was published and got a lot of really lovely press. It debuted on the Indie Best-Seller list, and it got pretty popular in schools and libraries. Suddenly, my responsibilities expanded to also being a public speaker (side note: if you make a book about topics of some academic interest, make a generic powerpoint presentation about it now! I'm so serious!). I stopped tabling at conventions (the pandemic), but I would also be paid for speaking gigs in between. I'm not an enormously in-demand public speaker, so I usually asked for an honorarium of about $500 from schools and institutions for online appearances, though I'm about to ask for a lot more because it's cutting into a lot of the time I need to make comics and hit my deadlines. As people are more comfortable meeting in person, I usually ask for a speaking fee of at least $1500, and it must be after they've already taken care of my travel and accommodations. I'm not very well versed in the standards for speaking fees for debut authors, so this might not be standard! It's just my best estimation of the value of my time and effort for that instance.

Speaking of comics and deadlines, I sometimes take on smaller projects for DC (you might have seen these) and Marvel (shhh it's not been announced yet), and the page rates for those, as they've paid me, are usually as follows: $90 per page for writing ($45 for plotting and $45 for scripting), $160 for pencils per page, and $90 for inking per page. I've never colored or lettered, so I don't know those rates. I do regularly talk to other writers and artists, and the rates for writers are all over the place and seem to depend on whether you've signed an exclusive contract with either of those companies. I don't know what a contracted penciller or inker is paid by them, or if that's even a thing that happens? I also sometimes do comics cover work, and I usually charge between $1200 and $1500. I tend to charge a bit more for covers these days because I personally don't like doing covers all that much.

Starting to Reap the Benefits Maybe? (2021-2022)

In 2021, I started getting royalty checks for both Star Spinner Tarot and The Magic Fish. These payments will vary wildly, and I think they will naturally peter off as time goes on, and I'll need to make more books and projects. In both cases, I was surprised. I think at one point a random check hit my bank account for like $20k and I nearly fainted, but some of the other royalty checks will be much more modest. This process of getting paid is also immensely eased by having a good agent! I cannot stress this enough!

Then both the Star Spinner Tarot and The Magic Fish got foreign language licenses, and those come with small advances of their own, each between $2k and $3k, from what I can recall, with varying royalty rates depending on the publisher who acquired those rights. Those royalty rates are, in my limited experience, more modest than my American publisher's, come to around 7% or 8%. The Star Spinner Tarot got an official French edition, and The Magic Fish has been licensed for publication in Italian, French, Korean, Brazilian Portuguese, and Spanish so far.

Since 2021, I've also signed on to draw two more graphic novels for other people, and my agent is able to demand higher advances for me, even when I'm only doing the drawing part.

My Day-to-Day

I think that's about as comprehensive as I can be about numbers. On a daily basis, my schedule depends on whether I'm writing or drawing. Graphic novels are long projects. I'll be writing for months at a time and then drawing for even more months or even years after. I spend a lot of time answering emails for speaking requests, and my agent will sometimes pass along emails about legitimate project requests (another advantage of having an agent is I don't have to sift through scam emails or shady collaborators). I spend way more time answering emails and trying to iron out my calendar than I'd like.

I'm currently working on my second graphic novel for Random House Graphic, and I'm extremely excited about it.

Another thing I've learned is that I like to bounce between projects, but they have to be between a paid project and a personal project. If I'm juggling paid projects, I get overwhelmed and stressed. If I can work on a paid project and then also make personal art, I can feel some relief and maintain a positive relationship with my work. If you can ever get to a point where you can manage to do this, I highly recommend it. I never want to hate making comics, and this balance of personal-to-paid projects helps me keep loving the work.

Closing Thoughts

My only hesitation in talking candidly about all this is that I'm not sure my professional trajectory is applicable for most people. I think I've had a uniquely positive experience once I got off the ground, and I know most people's journeys are very much not this smooth. In a lot of ways, I got very lucky. And along the way I had help, especially before I got my foot firmly in the door. I don't think I make stratospherically high amounts of money, but I know this is still an atypically stable amount for a lot of artists and authors. And even so, I anticipate that some years will be better or worse than others.

Obviously, I couldn’t cover absolutely everything, but my hope is that this will be a good starting point for you to figure out what you need to plan for the future. Best of luck! Thank you for your question! I’m sorry it’s so long.

[cozy-earthbaby]

Crack Fic - 3 of a Soul

Part 1

(A/N - silly little fic start that I don’t know if I’ll keep writing but I think it’s funny! Crossover fic from DC Marvel and Danny Phantom lol. Also my friend’s oc cuz why not? Enjoy)

—

—

For Peter, it was a knife in Doctor Strange's bag.

For Danny, it was an old camera floating in the zone.

For Ro, it was a book in an abandoned bunker.

Next thing any of them knew, the three where floating in a void. Souls connected. Memories shared. A new world awaiting them...

---

---

A new cafe had popped up on the edge of Crime alley. That in itself wasn't strange.

What was strange was that in the month that it was there, nothing had happened to it.

No robbery, no villain attack, no cross-gun fire, no gangs trying to claim it. Nothing.

And it was making the Bats itch.

Tim had done a background check on the place. It was clean. Weird, but clean. It was under the name of three college students. All going to Gotham Tech.

First was the main down payment, done by one Peter Parker. Hier to a Tech company in New York, double majoring in Biology and Enginering, clearly brilliant. A real hometown sweetheart, much like 'Brucie'. Peter Parker was the prince of New York, and his father Tony Stark was the king. Clearly not hurting in the money department due to his father, government weapons contracts did pay well.

Next was a Midwestern boy named Danny Fenton. From 'small town USA', the kids nothing records aside from his school grades and bare bone medical info made him basically a ghost. Only his sister's local Clinic and filed complaints about his parents driving. They're both were freelance engineers, explaining his own choice in majors. Scholarship money with his perfect entrance scores.

Lastly, Aurora 'Ro' Jasimen. Bounced around the country in foster care, online schooling, birth certificate. If Danny was a ghost, Ro didn't exist. In general studies, having a scholarship as well.

Now the question was, how did these three meet, and why did they open a cafe together?

---

The first to check the place out was Tim.

Jason had been not so subtlety dropping hints that the cafe rubbed him the wrong way, and it was getting on his nerves. Their relationship is a lot better than it was at the start, but Jay was a born instigator through and through. Tim decided that he wasn't going to die on this hill and caved pretty early. The background check was weird, but nothing too crazy, but Jay kept pushing. Even Bruce was paying attention now, so that's how Tim wound up standing in front of the infamous cafe.

It was cute shop-townhouse combo, apparently the three lived here as well. The sign out front was simple yet elegant, reading 'Wha Chai Doin?' as the name of the place. The pun made Tim snort. 'Dick would love this place.'

As he entered the shop, the bell on the door announcing his arrival, Tim was hit with the comforting smell of coffee. He was almost taken aback from how homey and cozy the inside was, despite being empty at the moment. It was strange in a city like Gotham.

"Danny! Can you get that for me?" A feminine voice called from somewhere, causing Tim to tense.

'Danny' came out from the back with a lethargic grace Tim couldn't take his eyes off as he approached the counter. 'Danny' was pale, almost sickly, a tad shorter than Tim, with impossibly dark hair and, despite the eye bags, the brightest blue eyes Tim had ever seen. His presence both demanded attention and demanded for one to look away. Tim felt himself freeze as their eyes met, he recognized the look immediately, those where the eyes of a predator. 'Danny' defiantly noticed the hesitation. A lazy grin and a cocked brow rested on his face.

"Hey. How can I help ya?" His voice held mischief, despite the friendly midwestern drawl.

Tim's brain finally caught up. "Hi. Sorry. I'll... Uh, I'll take a medium Death Wish please."

'Danny' looked him over for a moment, lazy grin growing to match the mischief in his voice. "Ya got it," He said as he punched in the order, " Name?"

"T-Tim." The eye contact was making his skin crawl, but he refused to look away. This only seeded to amuse 'Danny' more, the boy sending Tim a wink as he continued.

"Alrighty-Roo! One medium order of Death Wish 'or Tim comin' right up!" 'Danny' announced, rather loudly, to the back, then turned back to Tim without taking his eyes off him. "$4.75, card or cash?"

"Cash." How in the world was Tim going to stake out this place with those terrifying eyes on him. His plan was to get some coffee and work on his computer, he could hang around for an hour or two. But now he wasn't so sure.

"M`kay." His toothy grin was getting dangerous. Teeth almost looking sharp. Fear was growing within him. He had to get out of there. He had to. He--

Not another moment later after Tim got his change, his coffee there ready. Deliverd by an angel. Both He and Danny startled.

A handsome young man with chestnut hair and sweet honey doe eyes brought it out. He was more built than either of them, slightly taller too. His face and eyes were warm and open, a contrast to 'Danny', and his smile friendly. The tension melted away. 'This must be Peter. I can see how he'd charm all of New York. Bet he's a lot like Dick.'

"Here you are! Sorry about Danny, we just got him to stop biting people." His New York accent was strong and playful. The friendly tease caused a snort from Tim and a Dramatic gasp from Danny.

"Petey! 'Att's so unfair! I was just helpin' Ro out!" Danny whined out, flopping onto the other man. "I wasn' doin anything! Swear!" Danny couldn't seem to hold in his own laugh, Peter joined right after. The intimidating aura that was coming from him all but vanished, breaking the illusion of whatever that was. Now Danny just was some attractive, tired, goofy guy, not Tim's newest nightmare.

The lovely laughing that came from Peter and Danny made Tim feel warm. "Right, 'cuz freaking out the customers is 'helping out'. I could Feel the tension from the back. At least he was able to order before you started being weird." Peter flicked Danny's head, earning a groan. Tim couldn't help his smile, the two of them were strangely charming how they acted off each other. An apologetic smile was sent Tim's way. "Sorry again about that. Name's Peter."

"Tim. And don't worry about it. I've lived in Gotham all my life. I don't mind weird." In truth Tim was embarrassed that Danny got to him. He was Red Robin! He worked with Batman for crying out loud.

"Yeah, Sorry. Ya knows what they say about old habits!" Danny smirked to himself as if he told a great joke. Peter just sighed.

"Yes, yes. You're a master of comedy." Peter drily delivered, "come on. Leave the man to his coffee we gotta work."

Danny's protest went unhear as Peter returned to the back.

After a moment, Danny turned back to Tim. "I really am sorry, man. wasn' trin'a freak ya out."

"It's ok. This Is Gotham after all." Tim offered a smile. Danny smiled back a bit tired.

" 'Preciate 'att. Hollar if ya need anything!" And with that, Danny followed after Peter, sending Tim a wink and a smirk before disappearing as well. Tim's face was as hot as his coffee.

Tim got a whole day's work done after that. maybe the place was weird, but it was charming. Even after everything blows over, he thinks that he might just keep coming to the cute cafe at the edge of the Ally.

[ninapi]

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┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Training Camp ╝

Premise: Giyuu asks for one of the interns at the academy to be assigned to his care as the training camp was approaching and he didn’t have enough energy to deal with all the brats and their antics.

Word Count: 3660

Note: This is set up in the Kimetsu Academy world~

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tomioka Giyuu was not the best nor most popular teacher around Kimetsu academy, his students liked his class though interestingly, specially his first years; Tanjiro has even gone as far as to declare him his favorite teacher, his mentor, his model figure, and yes, that isn’t much of a praise, everybody knows Tanjiro likes being active, he enjoys being tortured into a better man, being shaped for greatness, hence, he would most likely like P.E no matter who the teacher was. Or that’s what Giyuu likes to think, Tanjiro on the other hand really cares for his opinion and wants nothing more than to be in his care.

Which takes us to today, the last day to submit extra curricular activities for the rest of the year.

Tanjiro and Inosuke had been begging him to take them outdoors, to train them in the wild, who needed a pool when they could take swimming lessons in a river? Who needed to run around the school when you could climb a mountain? The great outdoors was waiting for them and only Giyuu had the resources to please his students, didn’t want to though….dealing with those wild creatures on his own was too much to ask of him and none of the other teachers would like to go with him, he doesn’t get along with majority of them and he didn’t want to be an inconvenience for Himejima-san so that wasn’t an option either.

“Tomioka, you have the next period off right?” Kocho-sensei…maybe she’d help him…but her fiancee wouldn’t like that, why was it so difficult to just say no to a bunch of brats? That would be the end to this nightmare, but just thinking of the disappointed look on their faces made it impossible to stop right there without trying, he was getting soft.

“Yeah, why?” 

“Oh well, our new intern is here as you can see. I have a class in ten minutes and Shinazugawa-sensei who was supposed to show her the school, was called in for a parent’s meeting. Could you show her around?” you were partially hidden behind her, the large butterfly hairpins on her head covering your entire face from view. 

He heard about the interns last week. One of them was to be assigned to the first years, the other one was to help the principal with some managing tasks, but he rarely pays attention in those meetings, they never have anything to say that directly affects him, until now that is.

“I guess, yeah…” hearing his voice made you come out from the safe heaven that Kocho-sensei’s back was, smiling down at him and offering him a little wave.

“Great! She’s (Y/N), such a darling! Would you look at this pretty face!” she turned around on her heels to squish your face with both of her hands, adoration dripping from her eyes like honey. She’s been the only female teacher in the school for years, having you around was a dream come true for her, doting on you soon to be her top priority.

“Kanae-shan, my fashe hurts.” your cute fishy lips made her squeal even more, causing Rengoku-sensei to intervene. “Let’s go, let her be, you have a class now. Tomioka will take good care of our new little dove.” shooting you a playful wink, he dragged the perpetrator away from you, leaving you with a very stoned faced Giyuu.

He wasn’t one to talk, even more when he didn’t know the person. But he was tasked to show you around, that’s something he can do, a brilliant idea hitting him like a truck.

“(Y/N)-sensei, come this way. Do you mind if we stop by a class first? A student of mine dropped this here, it would be a good opportunity to meet the students you’ll be working with closely the next few weeks.” nodding excitedly, you followed him around like a little lost chick, it was an adorable sight, even for a man like Giyuu, he could now understand the behavior of his co-workers, a bit at least.

That student of his was no other than Kamado Tanjiro, the pride and joy of the school. “Tanjiro, you left this on my desk.” the loud obnoxious cackles of Zenitsu got your attention, “Gah! So stupid, hahahaha Tanjiro, your so stupid! How could you forget your phone on his desk? We aren’t even allowed to bring them this far in the school!” rubbing the back of his neck, Tanjiro made his way to the front of the class to retrieve the forbidden item, his curious eyes landing on you instantly.

“Who’s the pretty girl, Tomioka-sensei? Is she your girlfriend?” the gasps that left everybody’s lips in unison tinted your beautiful cheeks of an array of shades of pink. 

“Tomioka’s girlfriend??? Never, she’s too pretty.” a loud smack could be heard resonating in every corner of the classroom, getting physical with his students wasn’t a common practice of his but Zenitsu has a special place in every teacher’s list in the academy, one that not even the principal gets to question.

“She’s the new intern, she will be helping a few of your teachers around for some time and will be in charge of one of your subjects later in the future.” 

“Oh! What do you teach….uhm…pretty-sensei?” the blinding smile this child has could kill a zombie, it was endearing, making you come out of your shell.

“My name is (L/N) (Y/N), I will hopefully be in charge of your English lessons starting next semester.”

“Oh yeah, the old fart is retiring.Thank goodness…”

“Do you want another one? Cuz my hand is ready…” sitting up straight, he covered his face with the book he was holding, avoiding another smack from the angry teacher in front of him.

“English…I’m not very good at that, sensei….would you help me…?” letting an honest desperate tear out, Tanjiro was now clinging from one of your arms, his teachers spoil him and that is a known fact across the school, but you didn’t know him yet, this was a bit too much for you and Giyuu noticed, quickly detaching the youngster from your side.

“Behave.”

“But Tomioka-sensei….we all suck at English here! You see (Y/N)-sensei, our old teacher didn’t care much for us so he just gave us assignments and went straight to nap on his desk…so we are all in danger of failing this year!” the drama covering his words and expressions made you giggle, you were still nervous of meeting the kids, this was your first time putting into practice everything you’ve studied for years, it was nerve-racking, but you were glad your first students were this lovely.

“I’ll do everything within my power to help you guys!” that’s it, you fell right in Giyuu’s trap. A rare smirk was on his lips, making his students shiver in fear.

“Say (Y/N)-sensei….would you like to come with us to training camp?” the loud cheers could be heard from the third year’s floor, anyone outside of the situation would have mistaken this for the last day of school.

“Training camp?” tilting your head to the side, your eyes were glued to Giyuu’s, there was an evil glint on them, yet he seemed somewhat excited.

“Yeah, this class has been asking for a camping trip for months but I was about to cancel it since no other teacher had time to go with us and they are too many for me to handle on my own.”

“Please say yes, sensei!! We could have a study session after a nice walk up the mountain! Can you imagine? The fresh air, the birds singing! Isn’t that the best environment ever to learn English?” he was trying way too hard, it was almost comical, but he really wanted this training camp to be a thing, he was the one who brought it up to begin with. “Right, Tomioka-sensei???”

“Oh yeah, I agree. I’ve read somewhere your brain retains languages better after a good workout.” he was bluffing and you knew it, but you could feel in the air how much everyone wanted this camp to be a thing and if you could help with something this important this fast, you’d take it.

“Ok, let’s do this!” the entire class was swarming around you, the girls complimenting you, the guys showing off. 

Mission accomplished.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your first week as an intern went by fast.

The first couple of days you helped Shinazugawa-sensei grading some papers, then the other two you were tasked to help Rengoku-sensei planning a school fair with another first year’s class. 

But Friday, was the day you were tasked to help Tomioka-sensei with P.E.

And it was honestly better than you had hoped for it to be. 

He wasn’t the most talkative teacher, nor the mellowest one, but you somehow felt at ease when he was around.

Helping him was fun, you had to pick some balls up and stash them away, help the girls with stretching routines, fetch water for everyone, being this active was making you regret not choosing P.E as major, even if you weren’t really a sporty person, this was fun, the best way to close off the week.

Or so you thought.

“(Y/N)-sensei, don’t forget you gotta be in the parking lot by 8AM tomorrow. The bus leaves an hour later but I would like your help loading everything in the bus before the pests arrive.” you completely forgot the camp was that same weekend, you’ve been so busy the entire week you haven’t even gotten time to pack your bag,

“Sure! I’ll be there on time!” your cheeks were flushed from exertion and the long hours of sun exposure, your hair was messy, having the wind to thank for that, the way your uniform matched his own, somehow stunned Giyuu, like a jellyfish in the hunt. He forgot how to talk or that he even had to, so he just stared at your retrieving form, an expression never seen before by his students covering his face.

And oh how wonderful would this be if nobody had seen the entire scene unfold, but Zenitsu and Tanjiro just finished changing out of their uniforms when they saw the exchange, a new common purpose and agreement was met behind quiet snickers and evil smirks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Camping was definitely a new experience.

Being a city girl, the opportunity to let yourself loose in nature was rare and you haven’t gone camping since…well…you haven’t really, not at all. So the knowledge you had of it was also very little.

The school gave little to no help, only allowing you to use the school bus for the trip, the rest of equipment was basically brought by every student.

Giyuu had gotten some budget to buy the food, part of the adventure was to make them cook, so he just bought the ingredients needed for curry, they could eat the same twice, not the end of the world, but this also meant you didn’t have the required camping gear and you didn’t realize this until you saw everyone’s large bag and compared it to your small backpack.

“Sensei where’s your tent? And your sleeping bag? Or is your stuff already in the bus?” Tanjiro just wanted to help, he was looking to load your stuff in for you like the gentleman he is, but the aggravated look on your face made him gasp in horror, “You don’t have any???”

“Well I mean…I didn’t know I needed so much stuff…it was silly of me, of course, this is a camping trip, I needed to bring camping gear…” letting your small bag fall from shoulder, you collapsed on a nearby bench, what were you supposed to do now? You can’t just leave them now, they’re already there and you’ve never seen so many excited faces all in one place, this would break their hearts…

“Tomioka-sensei! Can you share with (Y/N)-sensei? Seems like she doesn’t have a tent and well, it would be improper for her to share with a student…” it wouldn’t that was for sure, you could just share a tent with some of the girls, but not on his watch, face one of plan ‘buy one get one free’ was now in its course.

“Wouldn’t it be more improper for us to do so, genius?” the deadpan look on his face made you chuckle, Tanjiro was being a little obvious, it was cute.

“Why? You two are teachers, wouldn’t it be normal for you to share a tent the same way you share your office?” he was playing dumb and he wasn’t particularly good at it, Giyuu was annoyed by the whole ordeal but if you didn’t come with him he would have to deal with all the brats on his own and he got no patience for that.

“Yeah whatever, I think there’s a spare sleeping bag in Uzui’s office, go fetch it.” and so he did running with glee, everything was going according to plan.

As for Zenitsu, he was diligently indicating everyone where to sit as to leave only one double sit empty, his aim was for you two to sit together and enjoy the romantic scenery ahead, he was certainly the smartest and he was proud of himself. Winking at Tanjiro when finally the three of you boarded the bus, he pulled his friend quickly to his side, whisper yelling at him his plan before he took the empty sit on the front “You idiot!! That’s face two of the one plus one plan! You gotta sit with me dumbass!”

“Wasn’t it the ‘Buy two get one free’ plan?”

“Who cares, I don’t remember the deal they were running at the convenience store when we planned this! You know what I mean!” yeah, the smartest, of course.

But his plan was a success, at least in their eyes.

You have fallen asleep rather quickly, your head pressed cozily on the crook of Giyuu’s neck as a result of the bumpy ride. He was so shocked he didn’t breathe for the rest of the way, his eyes as wide as they could be, his hands sweating like crazy.

Faces one and two of the plan, completed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The climb was hard, even if you brought your comfiest outfit, your feet hurt, your back ached, the sweat was starting to itch everywhere on your skin and the lack of hydration was starting to hit you. Giyuu saw it plastered on your face, even when you didn’t complain, not even once, he knew you were at your limit, choosing the next plain to set the campsite.

“Alright kids, this is it, our spot for the night. Go do your thing, I expect the tents to be up and ready in thirty minutes, there’s a lake not far from here, we’ll go for a swim after that.” collapsing on a log, you reached for the last drop of water in your bag as you tried to get air back into your lungs.

“Don’t worry about ours, I’ll take care of that, just rest.” his strength display made your legs turn to jelly, the way his muscles flexed while setting the tent, the way his hair stuck to his face, how he made everything look so easy, and did he always have those pretty eyes? Why were you fully seeing this man until now? You’ve been truly missing out.

Of course, your ogling was caught by the lightening rat who was lurking behind a tree, quietly brewing the next face of their plan.

The campsite was all set within the thirty minutes indicated by their teacher, this was a training camp after all, they’re there to become stronger, to get better in everything physical, they had to perform well if they ever expected for this experience to repeat itself.

Before being allowed to play in the river, their swimming skills were evaluated by their teacher who was diligently recording their times for future reference.

But the hike and the races were more than enough for the training aspect of the camp. Play time was needed too, even for the best, and you made it known to the man in charge, “Tomioka-san, would it be ok if we give them a break? The weather is lovely, lets give them some time to play in the water.” you were batting your eyelashes at him, he was a tough man to convince but you’ve noticed this somehow worked, he had developed some sort of a soft spot for you and even if he denies it, it works every time. “Yeah ok. You heard the boss, brats. Go play in the water.”

The loud outburst of gleeful screams made you smile, you had thought of just sitting under a tree and enjoy of some very well deserved rest, though, Zenitsu had another plans. Squirting water over to the rock you were about to step on with an evil smirk, he hid underwater before anyone would notice.

The mossy rock was now slippery, making you slip. Giyuu grabbed your hand as quickly as he could, though, momentum brought the two of you into the river together, him laying on top of you on the shallow area.

You just stared up into his beautiful eyes and got lost in them for what felt like an eternity, then the two of you burst out laughing, trying to help one another out of the river. 

It was a fleeting moment, but it was clear to those around you that something had changed just then.

Face three, completed.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After almost burning the forest to the ground, curry was served and it was surprisingly good, the completion of the trip nearing it’s end.

It was a lovely night, not a single cloud on the sky.

The stars were blinking down at you almost as happy to see you as you were to see them.

The kids wanted a bonfire and the idea was supported by you, making Giyuu prepare what was needed for it.

They danced around it for hours, told ghost stories, played games, it was certainly a night to remember, but not just for them, for you and Giyuu as well.

Bonding has many faces, some need to talk for hours to get along and understand each other, some need the complete opposite, Giyuu being one of them. And you, you gave him the space he needed, never questioned his silences, always smiling his way when he did something unusually kind, respected his personal space, you were someone wonderful that much was clear. And the feeling was mutual, you noticed it before he always brought that sense of ease with him, made you feel safe and understood, never pressured, even if it wasn’t crazy fun adventuring, it was what you both needed to get you out of those shells.

While the kids had fun, you two shared some warm tea while stargazing, having a chance to see the stars that way didn’t come often.

There was silence, but a comfortable one. A hand made its way to yours, resting just above your fingers, it was a small gesture, but it indicated you were both in the same page.

Smelling this with his ridiculous super senses, Tanjiro lets out an obnoxiously loud fake yawn, getting everyone’s attention, “Let’s go to bed guys, we gotta be up early in the morning or the bus will leave us behind…” the evil wink he gave Zenitsu made him get what was going on, getting up and wining just as loud, “Yes, please let’s go. My back is killing me, I think I’m getting old…” giggling at their antics, Giyuu got up to get the bonfire taken care of while you made sure everyone was in their respective tent and did a small security check before closing them off.

Tanjiro and Zenitsu that were sharing a tent, placed it as close as possible to yours, hoping to hear who knows what.

The sad reality, for them at least, was that they didn’t hear anything at all.

Not that there was anything to hear that night, but things went by good enough for this to be considered face four in a completed state as well.

Even if you didn’t share the sleeping bags, you did sleep next to each other. Even if nothing ‘exciting’ happened between you that night, both fell asleep while holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. Even if nothing had visibly changed in your relationship, it did, as that was the first of many nights that you two would spend together in the years to come.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So you’re telling me Tomioka is now dating the cute intern? You gotta be fucking kidding me…Kocho is about to get married, you probably are thinking about marrying your girl too…and the shithead gets the pretty girl around? Fuck you all and your cutesy romance shit…” Sanemi was grumpily sipping on some tea, while Tengen cackled at his sour antics in the background.

“Soon enough you’ll be the only one single here, Shinazugawa, I’d do something about it if I were you.” his friend was trying to be of help but it was honestly aggravating at this point.

“I got an idea!” But the idea got cut short when you arrived into the classroom helping your now boyfriend carry his paperwork, the dumb look in Giyuu’s face making Sanemi’s anger grow uncontrollably.

“Fuck this, I’m leaving.” his anger display startled you, he’s been so nice to you since your arrival, never acted that way in front of you before.

“What happened?”

“He’s a dickhead, love. Don’t mind him.” hearing Giyuu say something like that gave a sweetness overload to Kanae who was now squealing as usual.

“You two are too cute, that’s all. He’s a little wounded but I got a plan~”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Plan ‘one plus one', coming soon….

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Masterlist Part 1 of the series

[sunny-three]

My personal backstory on the wesninski-hatford crime family.

Nathan - I imagine he grew up middle class a fairly normal upbringing a banker father and stay at home he was an only child. He was always good at math/numbers so he goes to university majoring in like accounting or some shit. This was taken from the books I’m p sure Neil mentions it. Anyways Nathan’s always enjoyed fighting like his blood pumping he was actually on the hockey team in high school but kicked off for violence. He meets kengo his first year of university when he got into bar fight and ended up permanently maiming some guys eye with a broken bottle. Anyways all charges against him get dropped bc as turns out the guy that Nathan maimed was one of kengos bodyguards. Kengo introduces himself and offers Nathan some low level work. Nathan agrees and slowly rises though the ranks by doing things for the moriyamas ex. Pushing steroids which actually how Nathan meets Patrick dicmaccio who was on his university’s football team.

Mary - grew as a child in a crime family younges child with some older cousins and one older brother. Her mother died when she was about 14 because of an assination. While Mary’s parents were never really abusive towards her growing up in a crime absolutely impacted her in ways she didn’t realize till she had Neil ex. The paranoid the fear etc. Mary’s parents were never abusive to her but her upbringing was far from normal and damaging to her she never realizes that till Neil’s born. I imagine she saw a lot herself in Neil not just in his personality but in his upbringing as being born in a crime family his isolation as child makes her realizesher own isolation and I think that colours a lot of her dynamic with him. I always assumed that her marriage to Nathan was something that basically arranged/some thing that had to be done which is why she’s so reluctant to trust her family after running away bc they were onboard for the marriage in the first place.

The marriage - I always believed their marriage was a the first attempt at moriyama- hatford alliance it was basically an arranged marriage as kengo didn’t have any kids but Nathan was one of his most trusted subordinates. I think at first the marriage was fine Mary grew up in a crime family she’s been playing this game her whole life and Nathan liked the idea that he was building something of his own the alliance with Hatfords happened bc of him he’s carving out his territory in Baltimore and they’ve stated calling him the butcher. Then Mary gets pregnant and they both think why not? But Neil born everything changes.

Mary doesn’t want Neil in this life at all she’s never realized that how she grew up wasnt normal till Neil was born Nathan doesn’t really like Neil at all he doesn’t pay attention to Neil when he’s a baby and when Neil reaches like toddler age Nathan begins to hate him he liked the idea of having the legend of the butcher of Baltimore continue but practice he finds that he doesn’t really care for the idea of child that squirms during police raids or looks scared when Lola brings him down to the basement etc Mary doesn’t help at all Nathan doesn’t understand why she objects to him taking junior to the basement he never stops Lola from having her fun because junior will need to learn to handle sharp objects at some pint Mary runs away before Lola can properly begin show junior how use the knives . What’s really important to me about Nathan and Mary is that Nathan chose this life and Mary was born into it and while that might sound similar it is vastly different and why they would never really work out.

[sassy-radio-hazbin-queen]

This is my version of Loonatics unleashed. I decided to do my own version. So some major differences are.

1- The Loonatics take place in 2017 which makes it's a bit more relatable to us. I love the designs of the future but I have to admit I found it weird with all the new technology the phones still look very early 2000s 😂.

2- The looney tunes are there Great Grandparents not 300th Great grandparent.

3- Duck and Rev are Girls. I wonder how come there was only one girl in the team. There supposed to be descendants not carbon copies 😒. I mean we're they saying girls can't be descendants from boys.

4- Ace and Lexi are Fraternal twins. Guys I'm sorry I just can't seem to ship them. They are descendants of Lola and Bugs bunny who are in a canonical relationship. It's a cute ship don't get me wrong. But for me it's just weird.

5- The Loonatics are young adults. Wikipedia says there teenagers but these guys are in universitys?? There ages are. Slam and Tech 22, Ace and Lexi 20 , Rev and Danger 18.

6- Zadalvia is NICE to Danger.

7- There backstories. Starting with Slam Tasmanian.

First off he can Talk. I never understood why they gave Wiles and Roadrunner descendants talking abilities but not him.

He lived in Tasmania and has an Australian accent kinda like Hugh Jackman. Some humans said they were going to take there home unless Slam comes up with 100,000,000,000,000,000 dollars. ( Which is impossible) so he signs up for American wrestling. He goes to America but finds out it's not what he thought. However a meteor changes his life forever. He has a younger kid sister who is his biggest supporter and lived with his mom after there father walked out on the family. Loves to cook. His birthday is May 4th and yes the others do joke and say May the 4th be with you much to his annoyance. Zodiac is Taurus ♉

Next up Tech e Coyote

His backstory is kinda complicated. He was diagnosed with Asperger's when he was 4 and was often bullied to the point where he is TERRIFIED of public speaking. He has lots of stim toys and sometimes didn't feel like talking. During college he befriended a shy bullied girl names Mallory and eventually fell in love with her. Unfortunately there was an accident he caused by mistake and she ended up becoming the Mastermind. He tried with inventing again but after several accidents he was kicked out of the university. However a meteor changes his life forever. Birthday Dec 30. Zodiac Capricorn ♑.

Next up Ace and Lexi

I decided to do these two together since there twins so they basically lived the same lives. Ace is the older twin and is a daredevil who got in trouble with his parents alot. As for Lexi she was a very sweet girl who everyone liked. She was definitely the angel to aces devil personality. However this came at the cost of her getting bullied and Ace getting detention alot in high school. ( Because no one messes with a guy's younger sister especially if she is your twin) at college though he seemed to mature a bit and Lexi learned how to deal with bullies with her one passion Dancing. She loves Ballet. And Ace wanted to be a Actor like his Great Grandpa Bugs bunny. Unfortunately try outs didn't go well for either. But a Meteor changes there lives forever. There birthday is Oct. 13 making them Libras ♎

And now for everyone favorite talkative roadrunner Rev Runner.

Ok so like I said Rev is a girl runner. She had a pretty standard life. However her parents never believed she had ADHD just thinking she was faster than normal or not paying attention to them. Her younger brother Rip is 10 in this world and as far as she is concerned. She is more his mother than there own. Harriet and Ralph are pretty rich and practically use there kids to help make money. Rev being the oldest was put under a lot of pressure growing up. Ralph often would push Rev to her limits. To make things worse he was Willing to Marry her to some Creep to get more money. Luckily she got away. Unfortunately she couldn't take her brother with her. Something that still crushes her. She started work at a diner as a waitress. She was miserable until a certain meteor struck earth changing her life forever. Her birthday is Feb 1. Her Zodiac is Aquarius ♒

For the Final loonatic. My personal favorite Danger Duck

( this is the only gif of him are you kidding me 😂)

Anyway like Rev she is a Girl. And the youngest of the team. Her life wasn't exactly easy at all. Her parents were murdered in front of her by psycho clowns at age 5. Then she went through several foster homes with all of them sending her back cause she was a ' problem child'. None of them realized she was lashing out in grief. She practically grew up in the system. She had only one friend. Pinkster Pig. However when he got adopted he started changing and bullied her throughout high school. When she hit 18 she was kicked out of the orphanage and was homeless taking off jobs just so she can sleep somewhere. Her latest job and place was at a pool place. After a hard day of work. A meteor changes her life forever. Her birthday is July 25. Her Zodiac is Leo ♌

As for Zadalvia. Since she is an alien I decided to make her more like avatar. She has a striped tail. And is green skin. Her outfit is Blue. And she has Orange hair. She is 35 years old. Her backstory is pretty much the same. Except I decided to have Optimus ( I dont know how to spell his name) is possessed by the robo stuff he wears. There parents died when she was young and he became an adult. After years of ruling freleng he found a robot costume and put it on. Unfortunately it possessed him. He imprisoned his sister but she escaped with the help of a rocket. Resulting in the meteor. Her birthday is September 3. Her Zodiac is Virgo ♍.

And that's basically my version of the Loonatics hope you like them 😊

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

Can you talk a little bit about how you became a paleontologist? (like school and stuff).

I went to college wanting to major in paleontology and everybody told me I could major in geology but that being a paleontologist just really wasn't possible.

I did major in geology/archaeology combo major (offered at my college, it's actually a BA, not a BS, which was disappointing), but it's not paleontology and i've been out of school for a awhile and i'm just really discouraged.

ugh welcome to my life. the reason my story is complicated is because of crap like that.

so, I'm going to get very, very, very real here. that means I'm going to reveal some personal details about myself. I'm okay with it. I want to share this. Content Warnings for Parental Abuse, Mental Illness, Physical Disability, and Trauma. Phew. Here we go.

first thing we have to acknowledge: I grew up poor. my mom was a stay at home mom because of mental illness (majorly agoraphobic and huge social anxiety, plus largely untreated OCD). my dad rarely held on a job for very long because of severe untreated ADHD. my parents' primary concern, at all times, was that their six kids (my mom loves kids) would have gainful, steady employment. they are communists, and it was always about how we can't help others effectively if we're not secure in the rest of our lives.

I wanted to be a paleontologist from the moment I could have such a want. But my parents never, never, thought that was a good idea. They wanted me to be a scientist, because they could see my potential, but they didn't think being a paleontologist was a safe career. And, to be fair, they had a point. But I didn't want to be anything else. In fact, the very idea would make me start sobbing. So while I was little, they didn't really do anything about it. Occasionally they planted seeds of "you might not be a paleontologist", but it never went well.

fast forward to me going to college. now they were serious. we were constantly fighting over whether I should be a paleontologist or a medical researcher (MDPhD. you know, the insane degree that insane people get.) (I'm insane, but not that way). because they were paying for, well, some of it (I got a lot of scholarships, b''h), and I was in general dependant on them like most college students are, they picked my classes. I was forced to major in biology (though I probably would have picked that anyway), and I never took any geology classes (well, I took half of one, but had to drop it because of my stupid premed classes).

I got to do paleontology research, but it was kind of in secret - I technically had two different research jobs, one in evolutionary biology, one in paleontology. I took tons of medical related classes, and was forced to take the MCAT twice. I wasn't good at it. Memorizing things isn't my forte, I'm much better at problem solving and finding/evaluating information. I also just wasn't interested in it - I can remember countless dinosaur genera, but ask me to remember really specific medical details and my mind draws a blank.

I did not do well on the MCAT, but I was still forced to apply to MDPhD programs. I also applied to evolutionary biology and paleontology PhD programs on my own. But paleontology is extremely competitive, and I didn't hear back from any of those. I also didn't get anywhere with any of those medical programs. In fact, I ended up getting accepted to a grad program for evolutionary developmental biology, because that was the only thing that had an opening. Rather than go home and be forced to apply to medical school again, I took the out.

I was miserable. But I tried to convince myself it was better this way. That I would have gainful employment, and be able to do science. Meanwhile, I was running this blog, building a community, and constantly thinking about paleontology instead of my actual thesis. Even though paleontology doesn't require field work, I'd convinced myself I could never do it because field work is inaccessible to me - I have had chronically dislocated knees since I was 16, and a few different physical conditions that make me exceptionally heat sensitive. I couldn't do field work, so I couldn't be a paleontologist. I also am fat, because of those disabilities, and there just aren't a lot of fat AFAB paleontologists, so I thought I wouldn't be able to get far for that reason.

But I couldn't finish that PhD. I didn't care enough about it, and I was constantly hitting roadblocks. I wanted the focus to be more evolution based, my advisor told me no. I wanted to pursue a specific question, my advisor advised against it. My wasps kept dying, and I didn't know why. I couldn't get my assays to work. My advisor was always focused on his other students and never me. It was a nightmare. All the while, my blog was exploding in popularity, and I was even going to paleontology conferences on my own dollar and networking there, presenting research about using the internet as an educational tool. And I felt at home. I was with *my people*.

Then the pandemic happened. I was already estranged from my parents for other reasons, that I'd rather not get into (no, it's not cause I'm queer). Everyone was frustrated with my lack of progress at my first program. My spouse, the infinite well of support that he is (url @plokool), gave me the push I needed to drop out with a master's degree (which I had earned at that point). I then was seriously considering becoming a rabbi, because I didn't think I could hack being a scientist at all after that experience.

But, everything felt wrong when I wasn't engaged with paleo. ADAD had gone on hiatus because my artists were persuing other opportunities (and I'm so proud of them!). I just felt empty and lost without paleontology in my life. So I went to the virtual SVP that was being held in 2020, since it was cheaper than usual and online.

And I met my current advisor. We clicked *right* away. We had the same questions about bird evolution and talked for hours. He encouraged me to apply, so I did - just for paleontology programs. I knew if I didn't do paleo, there wasn't a point. Nothing else would hold my interest enough for me to get a doctoral degree. I also talked to the wonderful friends I had made here on Palaeoblr, ones who were also actually pursuing paleo, and they promised me I could do it - that they believed in me. The one thing no one but my spouse had ever really indicated to me. It gave me the push I needed, and when I was accepted to this program, I took it. It also helped that I finally had working ADHD medication, for the first time in my life.

Even though it meant moving from Chicago - nice, at least sometimes chilly Chicago, my home for my whole life - to fucking southern new mexico. I am so hot. All the time now. My feet never return to their proper color. But it was worth the risk.

But I'm not doing field work! I've had to take a lot of remedial geology classes, but all my work has been computer and lab based. And I've done so much already! I've published a new bird, I've done excellent in my classes and teaching, and I'm currently compiling my own database of Paleogene bird fossils. Last year was a little rough because of trauma things, and the gd-damned adderall shortage, but I'm moving forward. I am hoping to go into museum work, because I love museums, and I believe in them and their ability to educate people (I also want to help the museum field decolonize itself, but that's a different discussion.) I've even made a design for an evolution of dinosaurs exhibit that my professor wants me to make into a real thing someday.

So... yeah. I became a paleontologist by being the world's most stubborn mother fucker alive. I decided I wanted to be as a kid, and I never could let it go, even when it would have been better for me to. But I'm glad I didn't, because now I'm here, and I'm doing well. When i can focus, at any rate. Because I'm only at peace when I'm around dinosaurs.

(P.S. I've even repaired my relationship with my parents, and they support me as a paleontologist now! just took 30 years for them to realize they couldn't fight me on this, I guess... or they're old and tired of fighting. one of the two.)

[study-with-aura]

Friday, July 26, 2024

I am going to have to study more for the GRF Algebra 2 course because I think I'm behind on where I should be by now. It's okay. It's all review for me, but it has been a year since I had algebra, so the review will be helpful before starting my second year of algebra. Needless to say, functions are coming more easily to me this time around. I struggled with that during my first year of algebra. I guess I understood it better than I thought and it merely needed some time to settle in. Who knows?

Today was the last day of my ballet intensive, so all of my summer activities have come to an end. I can't believe what a summer it has been! I've made so many new friends, learned a lot, and really got to focus on personal development. However, I am very tired! That intensive was fun, but well, intense! Six hours per day of classes, but I did it and enjoyed every second!

I forgot to mention that while I was away at camp last week, I got more school stuff in. I'm creating a new study space for myself, so I got a cute organizer and the little inspirational decor pictured above. I'm going to keep looking for things, but I have to buy all of this with my own money from my allowance or with the allotted amount my parents allow me for school supplies. I typically use my allowance money for when I'm with friends or see something that I really want, but I'm also saving up for my first car in another year. My parents had this thing with my brother where they bought his first car, but he had to pay them back so the car was really his and he practiced being responsible. They're doing the same with me, but if I can outright buy my first car, I would rather do that than have to pay my parents back. That's all why I'm very careful with my purchases when they are things that I want rather than need. Anything I need, my parents will buy for me but wants are different. At least it's taught me to think of money in a good way and how to budget.

I am really hoping it's nice tomorrow so we can go back out to the lake. The academic year is always busy for everyone, so we really only spend time at the lake during the summers. Speaking of being busy, I can't volunteer at the library in the program I was hoping to be apart of again like a couple of years ago. Like last year, they moved the time to where it interferes with ballet. Therefore, I have to find another volunteer leadership opportunity. I have an idea of one, so we'll see if I can make that work or not.

Tasks Completed:

History 9 - Learned about Frédéric Chopin + studied his Nocturne in D-flat Major, Op. 27, No. 2

KA GRF Algebra 2 - Completed Unit 3: Lessons 3 (review of determining the domain of a function)

Duolingo - Studied for approximately 30 minutes (Spanish + French + Chinese) + completed daily quests

Piano - Practiced for two hours in one-hour split sessions

Reading - Read pages 153-192 of The Shadow Sister by Lily Meade

Chores - None today

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (Psalm 34)

Ballet intensive

1 hour gaming with Julien

Journal/Mindfulness

[dangeroushologramcolor]

Being Neon J's daughter :

He and his wife always wanted to start a family, but his obligations in the army make it difficult.

When he was called for the border war, he asked the hospital to conserve some samples of his genetic material, so their dream can become true if something happened to him.

The war was unforgivable and murderous, but the thought of finally coming home to his dear wife, settle down and having children kept his spirit up.

After his warship was bombarded, he lost his crew and most of his body. He miraculously survived, but the majority of his body must have been replaced by robotic parts.

When he came back, his wife was crying of relief and pain. Seeing her husband in this state, but alive, put her emotions into a roller-coaster.

After his comeback, they decided to have a child.

The pregnancy goes well, they learnt that they'll be the parents of an adorable daughter. Everything was so perfect. If only it would last forever.

But fate had other plans.

His wife didn't survive the birth, leaving you and your father.

Neon J was devastated, why life must be so cruel. Giving him great joy then pulling him into misery.

But he must be strong. It only you two now, he must be strong for you, to protect you, to make sure his dear wife rest in peace, knowing both of you live in happiness.

It's a this moment he created the first models of 1010.

His passion always was music and dance. So, now that his military carrier is behind him, he'll become the next star of Vinyl City.

You were there when he taught the first models how to dance and sing. It wasn't very good. But your 3 years old self found it funny and loved to clap her hand in rhythm.

The second version of the 1010 was more human like and a little less army lookalike. They were better, but still not very popular because of their looks. And the five of them look perfectly the same, so people didn't really see the point of a band make of only one people multiplied.

The idea of making them in different colors went from you. You sticked stickers on them, with an unique color for each of them. It helped you to remember who was who. You father found the idea brilliant.

And so were made the third generation of 1010. You big brothers.

You loved them, and they loved you. Neon J was so proud of his little family. He hoped his dear wife could see that from where she is.

You takes part of 1010 training routine. You love dancing and your father is an excellent teacher.

You go to Vinyl City Elementary School, but your dream is to go to the military school. The only problem is that your father is formally against it. He refuses that you get enrolled in the army.

It really upset you, but you will prove to your father that you are strong enough to become at great general, like him.

If only you know he refuse because he's scared of what could happen to you. He doesn't want you to go though what he did.

He's kind of protective, sometimes too much.

Your brothers have a protocol named "Y/n's protection" coded deep inside them.

When Neon J isn't here to give them orders, you are the one who gives them orders.

They are not obligated to listen to them, but you're so cute when you act like that. And you never disrespect them, you they play along.

Since your brothers have a sailor uniform, you asked your dad one too.

How can he resist those puppy eyes when you asked him so sweetly "Can I have my own uniform too dad, please."

Now, you look like your brothers!

But you refused to wear the hat. You find it ridiculous.

Your dad works a lot, to the point of exhaustion. So when you saw him sleeping against his desk, you stole his coat and his captain hat and decided to supervised the concert for him.

You are 9 years old. You can do that. And your brothers agree with you. Your dad really need to rest.

You're not afraid of those rock revolutionaries. Let them come, they will see what 1010 is made of.

They will pay for what they have done to your friends' family. And for making Lady Tatiana angry.

They better have come with their tactical thermals goggles, because-

YOU'RE GONNA BRING THE HEAT!

[ineffable-opinions]

Fumi Yoshinaga is known for her big hits including Ōoku: The Inner Chambers, which depicts the rise and fall of the Tokugawa family in the world where the Ōoku becomes a harem of men serving the female shogun, Antique Bakery, a story about a bakery where only men work and What Did You Eat Yesterday?, a slice of life series focusing on a gay couple. 

Excerpts (emboldened - for my own benefit)

Ever since I was a little girl, Patarillo! has been my favorite, so I enjoyed reading stories about male and male relationships. I didn’t think of it as a homosexual story at the time.

However, when I was in junior high and high school, bullying was a social problem, and I thought that if I stood out, I would be bullied. So I tried my best to hide the fact that I was an otaku so that it would not be obvious. Although I read major popular manga to keep up with everyone, I tried to avoid talking about the manga I really liked outwardly.

I had friends who were otaku, but when I graduated from high school, not only me but also all of my otaku friends “mimicked” normal people by reading the atmosphere. I dressed as normal as possible so that I didn’t look like an otaku, and I didn’t join manga club. I would go to coterie events, though (laughs).

Since then, I have not been able to do anything other than creating fan-fictions, and I even went to graduate school to continue my doujin activities for as long as possible. During that time, various BL magazines sprang up. A friend I met through doujin activities became the editor of one of the BL magazines called Hanaoto. And the opportunities I have been given to be involved in it have helped me build the career I have today.

Also, at the time of my debut, the term “BL” was coined and there was an atmosphere in which the entire market was gradually gaining momentum.

At the time, it was seen as pornography for adult women. Although I was embarrassed in the sense that I was creating erotic manga, I had no special feeling about the fact that I was depicting male/male love stories.

[...]can easily broaden my imagination as to stories starting from “comradeships,” “master-slave” relationships or the kind of friendship that becomes too passionate and then turns into romance.

Nevertheless, although I debuted as a BL manga artist, it was not at all easy for me to draw many variations of romance.

Even though I was drawing BL, love is love. At that time BL was basically short stories, characters in manga met and fell in love each time. I was troubled by the fact that they were another kind of love stories after all. Also, due to the policy of the magazine, I had to include sex scenes, which was very difficult for me. So I tried to move to a general magazine soon.

About All My Darling Daughters

In this work, I straightforwardly express the feelings I have had since childhood, such as the oppression I received from my parents and the speculation that I could be happy without falling in love. I didn’t want to use manga as a means to convey my ideas, but I was conflicted because I had to touch on these feelings in the creation of the story.

Sayako, who has no romantic feelings for anyone

She is what we now call “asexual,” but I didn’t even know that category at the time. I think it is very important to be named and recognized. It has certainly made life easier for many people.

It all started when a friend said to me, “I pay my taxes, I take out the garbage on garbage day, and I live a decent life, so why should I feel as if the world is blaming me just because I am not in love?”

I nodded deeply at her statement because I too had been uncomfortable since I was a student because I was not passionate about love. I guess I had to go with the flow of society, where people who have never loved others are considered to be living a pitiful life. I have been skeptical that loving someone is the highest good. If I say, “I don’t want a boyfriend,” people say, “Don’t try to act tough!” so I had to pretend to want a boyfriend, which is too much of a bother (laughs). I felt like I was mimicking them all the time in my life.

Gay people

I drew my BL and other works thinking that gay people might read them. So when gay people read my works, they may think “this is different,” but I was careful not to make them feel that they were being denied. I thought it was still okay to be unrealistic, but I never wanted to portray them in a way that might give an unusual impression to the readers.

But Ono [in Antique Bakery] was in a way the only exception. I had no intention of making him a laughingstock, but I felt bad if I had given readers a mistaken impression about gay people by portraying him in a funny way.

I have a gay friend who reads my works. When I apologized to him for how I portrayed Ono, he said, “If you get angry at every little thing like that, you can’t live as a gay person,” which baffled me. At that time, I felt very sorry. Since then, I have been careful not to change the attitude mentioned above. As for the depiction of gay men, I am not really conscious of whether it is realistic or not.

I think there are not many male-female love stories that depict realistic dramas. Rather, I enjoy reading them while thinking, “How could this happen? ” or “I hope this kind thing really happens in my life.”

What did you eat yesterday? & serialization of it in the youth magazine Morning

At first, I presented the idea to the editor of a BL magazine, but that person didn’t respond well to it. In the context of BL, the relationship of the two who have already gotten together was not interesting. There is no description of sex, no indication that the two are growing closer. For the readers of ordinary BL manga, there is no part of the story they want to read.

The editor-in-chief of the gay magazine also contacted me politely and said, “It is epoch-making for a story like this to be published in a youth magazine like Morning, so please feel free to ask me anything if you have any questions.”

I was just drawing what I wanted to draw, which was not much different from what had been published in BL magazine, so the objective opinions made me raise my consciousness and feel horrified at the same time.

One thing I changed was that I made sure to draw the recipe and ingredient quantities properly because I received a postcard from a reader saying that she had made the strawberry jam that appears in the piece. Although I was able to make some adjustments to it in the aspect of cooking manga, I thought I couldn’t change much about the setting of the gay couple, so I continued the manga as it was. However, the editor-in-chief of Morning changed around the time I published the second volume, and when I greeted him, I was surprised to hear from him that Morning is a conservative magazine for middle-aged men.

expressing yourself in a place where many people would see your work & fear of hurting someone

Doujinshi is simple; people who want to read it read it, but that is not the case with commercial magazines, so I was worried in the beginning.

When I was young, I once told an editor that I wanted to draw a manga that didn’t stand out in any way, and he admonished me, “That won’t make for an interesting work” (laughs). As long as it is a concrete expression, it will definitely hurt someone. So, in a way, I gave up on that point.

I think I am probably in a kind of trance when I am drawing. I am outputting what I wanted to read and reading it myself, so there’s definitely an adrenaline rush. That kind of pleasure is what keeps me going with this job.

Changing world, changing manga

I think that the range of content that we can depict has become much wider. Even in terms of BL, there are now not only love stories with sexually explicit descriptions, but also love stories in which couples gradually deepen their relationship. Manga featuring argumentative but attractive girls are also popular. The number of stories that do not depict romance has also increased dramatically. But as a reader, I also love romantic stories.

The range of manga I enjoy reading has expanded and now I like manga even more than before. As a reader, I look forward to the future.