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yandere-mha-blog · 3 years ago

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Chapter 8: Handy

words: 2218

There was only one more thing hawks wanted to do at the moment, get your talon back, he was smart to keep one of his feathers on the guy he smacked against the door. Hearing the conversation on how he keeps his little “trophies” in front of the people he “interrogated”.

“I was so worried when I heard the news that Nighthawks somehow found a way to break in.” His wife said, “And to hear you were actually hurt.”

“I'm fine, nothing to worry about.” He said

“But dad, you have a large bump on your head.” His kid said

“Nothing time and some ice won’t heal.” he said “thanks for dinner honey.”

He gave his wife a quick kiss on the cheek before heading into his workroom and taking out your talon from a glass box before putting it back in and then going to the other trophies this man had collected, what a sicko. Three days had passed and it was about time Hawks got it back for you, then man was getting too comfy thinking that he was in the clear, sure Hawks moved quickly but he also knew when to wait for the right time to strike.

Hawks waited and waited till he saw all the lights go off in the house, all except for the office, Hawks feather finally floated out from under the guy's coat as he were none the wise and he didn’t even notice it undoing the window lock and slowly lifting it up, the man was so immersed in whatever he was writing down he didn't even notice hawks climbing in through the window with one of his primary feathers shaped out, hawks ave him a second and nope, man this guy instincts were awful, or Hawks was just that good at hiding his presents.

So it was really easy for hawks to over his mouth with his gloved hands and have his primary feather against the man throat only then did he notice

“Hi, guys.” Hawks said “How are you doing this fine night? Well, I guess you can't really talk, right now, now you are probably wondering why I am here, the answer is very very simple, even the score.”

Hawks had two of his feather an inch away from the guy's eyes

“Now look unless you want to go blind you will stay quiet and answer my questions okay.”

The guy just nodded and hawks uncovered his mouth

“Please, don't kill me, I was just doing my job.” He said

“Is that how you justify your actions, there is a lot to unpack there, now where did you put her talon?”

“On the second-highest shelf, third to the left.” He said as hawks used his feathers to lift it off and put it in his coat pocket “That's all you wanted right.”

“Hmm well, one more question, which hand did you hold to pilers to pull it out.” Hawks said, “And I don't know isn’t an answer.”

“I used, my left hand to hold them,” he said

“Good now place your left hand on your desk.” Hawks said

“Why are you planning to do it?”

“Just a taste of your own medicine.” Hawks said, “Look if you won’t put it down, maybe your wife would offer hers up.”

“What?” The man said

“Tell you what I'll let you decide, your wife's left hand, or yours.” Hawks said and the man was now sweating buckets

“I need my hands to provide for my family.” He said, “I can't lose them.”

“You know that was a rhetorical question, at least I don't feel as bad doing this.” Hawks said slicing the man's hand clean off, it took him a moment to process it seeing the numb he now had for a left hand and started screaming out in pain, Hawks saw him topple over to the floor before picking up the hand and leaving, he tossed it over his shoulder over who knows where, he sure was glad he locked the office door before he went, wouldn't want that kid of his seeing the blood sprayed all over the place.

Still, now he had one more place to go for the night, meeting up with his broker, someone who would do anything for you as long as you had the money w. Giran, the man who was not interested in anyone's plans, Hawks respected that part about him, not being tied down by just one person, the same man where he got his current gear. Hawks landed on the fire escape and walked down and into Girans' place.

“Well well if it isn't my favorite feathered friend.” He said taking in a long inhale of smoke “You got blood on your cheek.”

“Ah, it's not mine.” Hawks said, “Anyway I have a request for you.”

“Haha why else would you come and see me.” he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes “Want one.”

“I'm good.” Hawks said

“You're loose.” He said, “now you said you needed something different than usual, and I'm assuming it has to do with that woman you got from HPSC?”

“It does, they took out one of her talons, so I need a proteic so she will be able to wear it and use it again.” Hawks said removing the talon and placing it on the table

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Giran asked, “The root of the tail is intact so no way is she growing that back, also interesting this isn't regular Keratin.”

“I asked you to make it usable again, not analyze it.” Hawks said

“I know a guy, What will probably happen is he will put it in a fingerless glove that wraps around her wrist, a few never receptors and when she flexes her finger then this one will pop out.” Giran explained, “Still I'm surprised you went to him for help, whatever happened to you being a lone bird.”

“Can't just leave someone out to dry.” Hawks said taking out a wad of cash “And I only went to them on a one-time deal, they have their plan I have mine.”

“Hey, it lets me make money.” He said “Come back tomorrow ill have it ready for you. One more thing, they are planning something big tomorrow so watch the news.”

“I will.” Hawks said, “Oh one more thing, do you have any medical books laying around.”

“I'm sure I can come up with something, but why do you ask?”

“A housewarming gift.” Hawks said, “make sure they are interesting, none of that fluffy shit the gritter the better.”

“...noted,” Giran said, looking a bit perplexed at his request. With that said hawks left attaching his wings and head out back to his hideout to see you lunging in his twin-sized mattress reading a magazine he had laying around

“Hey I'm back.” he said as you put your hand up and waved at him “So, how are you doing?’

“Still healing, did you finish those errands?”

“Sure did.” Hawks said “I still need to grab some grub. Do you want anything?’

“Anything will do.” you said flipping the page “Also when I saw you had a magazine that said chick weekly I wasn't expecting it to have a bunch of baby bird photos.”

“Hey, we all have our hobbies.” Hawks said take the magazine out of your hand "And be careful this is my only copy.”

“Why do they even make magazines like this?” you asked

“Same reason there are millions of magazines for heroes, money.” Hawks said

“Do you have some weird bird fetish?” you deadpanned

“NO!” HAwks said, “where would you even get that idea!”

“That was a joke.” you said “Got pretty defensive there.”

“Find something else to read here.” Hawks said tossing you a flyer about the HPSC “You are smart enough to know that having information on your enemy is key to defeating them.”

“I already read this.” you said,” Still the fact it says we strive for a healthy relationship between the public and heros' makes me wanna barf.”

“Tell me about it.” Hawks said scratching his head “You are only allowed to your quirk for good, and the only way to use your quirk to work under them in some way, so they must be good like they haven't been brainwashing kids.”

“My dad never let me watch those PSAs about them or any advertisements that had heroes,” you said

“Well, your dad is a smart man.” Hawks said, “I mean that as soon as a kid turns 15 they can go through life-threatening training so they can work under them, and that's what they expect of them.”

“Then there is the fact that your worth is based on how powerful your quirk is.” you said getting up and walking over “and if you don't have a strong quirk you are seen as worthless.”

“Haha, we could go all night saying how horrible they are.” HAwks said giving you two quick taps on the head before stepping out “I’ll be back with some grub.”

“Okay I'll stay here,” you said and waved him off, maybe there was a more personal reason why Hawks hated them, still if he wasn't going to tell you then that was his right, still you thought at least now you wouldn't be bored, but being cooped up in a small room, wasn't exactly who you thought life on the run with a dangerous villain would be.

When Hawks came back with the food you happily indulge in as he smacked the top of an old tv, to get a signal.

“There has been an attempted break-in at U.A, the alarm system went off but there no report of suspense activity-” The reporter was saying before a scruffy looking teacher pushed the camera out of the way

“Go home.”

“Hey you can't just touch property like that, hey what are-” and it was cut off

“Gross.” Hawks said, “You know I can’t Believe they have schools for this.”

“Seems a bit excessive.” you said “you know before heroes came into view it was just the cops, can you imagine if people viewed cops and law enforcement the way they view heroes now,” you said

“I can.” Hawks said spreading his wings out “I don't like them having kids fresh out of MIddle school do training.”

“Well technically they choose this school, but on the other hand it has been installed in them to be a hero from a young age, you have seen all the toys marketed towards them, HPSC is more like a moneymaker, is that why you hate them?”

“Part of the reason, yeah.” Hawks said stealing a bite from your plate “Another part is personal, and I'm assuming it's personal for you as well.”

You looked down at your thumb and sighed “It is now, however, there is another part but it's long been forgotten to me.”

“Aww come on you can tell me.” Hawks said

“Hmmm.” you tapped your chin “well I guess there is no harm in telling you, but my mother was actually a hero but died soon after I was born.”

“Huh like during birth?” Hawks asked, you shook your head

“No, you see she had been out of commission for a while, with the whole baby thing, they were against her having me in the first place, but my mom wanted a family, so they had me and they wanted my mom to make this big come back, but she was hasn't been active for so long she died in the long of duty.”

“I can't begin to imagine the pain of knowing that.” Hawks said

“Well I never knew her, and my dad did everything he could to make me happy growing up, he explained it to me in middle school.”

“Well, you know anything about her?” Hawks asked

“My dad showed me a photo and said I'm the spitting image of her, and i got her quirk but mixed with my dads,” you said

“What's your dads' quirk?”

“Oh he is able to eject a tungsten-like material from his wrist.” you said, “my moms' talons couldn't retreat back in like mine and could chip easier.”

“Wait a second...you are the daughter of the clawed hero?” Hawks said

“That was her code name, why do you ask?” you said

“Oh, I've done research on all the past heroes who died in the line of duty.” Hawks said, “Most of the time it's, they died for the greater good, or they gave their lives for others.”

“That's adding insult to injury to their families.” You said, “Hawks, have you ever killed a hero?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call them heroes, have I killed people who got their hero listens, yes.” Hawks said, “Caught them doing something illegal, when I brought it up they said I was the villain and they were going to capture me.”

“So what exactly is your end goal here?” you asked as you finished up your meal

“To end the HPSC and their crooked practices, like abducting people and ripping their nails off.” Hawks said, “They have a firm grip on the narrative of everything, I'll get it done.” “Well can't wait to see it, it should be interesting,” you said

#yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere takami #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere

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kyuuppi · 4 years ago

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Fruit Salad (NSFW)

Pairing: Orihara Izaya x Reader ( ♀ )

Genre: SMUT, a lot of subtle fluff cause Izaya is my husbando and I love him

⚠️WARNING⚠️ Oh boy... food play, object insertion, light dirty talk, maybe some degradation?, kitchen sex, fingering, really messy oral, light nipple play, biting, spit play, slightly insecure reader, unfortunately Izaya does not get nakey :(

WC: 4.4k

Izaya hums to himself as he moves around the room with purpose, seeming to have already mentally planned at least ten steps ahead of each action he takes--the antithesis to your own frazzled, jerky movements as your flit between various cardboard boxes, unable to recall the contents of a single one without reading the haphazard black sharpie words etched on the sides. You feel frustration well within you as you realize you are not even halfway done with unpacking the bedroom after nearly two hours.

‘Why the hell do I have so many clothes when I wear the same three sweatshirts every week!’

Glancing over at Izaya’s side of the room you can’t help but feel envious at his few, neatly organized boxes he seems to instinctively know the contents of. All of his clothing seems to fit in a single large box, the bulk of his belongings being various computer hardware and other communication devices that he handles with care.

As per usual, he seems to have a sixth sense for knowing exactly what you’re thinking and his head lifts from the short stack of books in his hands to meet your annoyed gaze with a taunting grin.

“It’s rude to stare, y’know.”

You tear your eyes away from his form with a scoff, a self of hopelessness coming over your form when your eyes land on yet another box mockingly labelled “clothes.” Three months ago, when Izaya had suggested the two of you move in together as your lease at your previous place was coming to an end, you had been ecstatic, to say the least. In the midst of your twenties it is easy to compare yourself to others you deemed more successful and established and you were starting to feel your minimum wage job and shabby apartment complex, filled with mostly rowdy college freshmen with a few grumpy elderly cat ladies sprinkled in, was holding you back. Moving into a fancy new apartment you could never even dream of affording by yourself and with your handsome boyfriend of two years no less--now that is how succeeding in life really looks, right? You were excited to open a new chapter of your life but now, as you stand in the middle of an unfamiliar living room with at least thirty boxes scattered around and the beginnings of hunger pains settling in the pits of your stomach from skipping breakfast, you aren’t so sure.

The beginnings of your internal self-pity rants are interrupted by the familiar childish lilt of Izaya’s voice as he approaches one of the larger boxes by your side.

“My, my...it seems my favorite little human needs some help,” he teases, easily cutting through the messy layers of packing tape with one of his numerous pocket knives he seems to always have.

In the corner of your eye you recognize one of the colorful lumps that springs from the opened box as a childhood Gudetama plush you had all but forgotten you owned. It likely lived most of the past four years in the back corner of your closet, to be honest.

Izaya’s offer immediately relieves some of the pressure from your shoulders and you find yourself growing warm at his display of genuine kindness. At times like these it is difficult to imagine Izaya as the sadistic monster most of Ikebukuro makes him out to be--

“I wonder if I’ll find something naughty in one of these boxes~”

Nevermind. He is definitely a monster.

You use all of your strength to jab his arm in retaliation, your face feeling hot as you sputter out that you don’t have any “naughty” belongings, thank you very much! He only laughs manically, completely unfazed by your physical attack as he makes his way to your new shared bedroom to put your unnecessarily large collection of plushies away.

Having some of your burdens removed you feel much more clear headed and decide to get started on putting the dishes away so the two of you could at least have silverware for the takeout you’ll inevitably be ordering soon. Having spent a great deal of time in a few of Izaya’s apartments over the past few years, you already have an idea of where he keeps certain things and you try to make a conscious effort to satisfy the both of you with locations you think make the most sense. Pretty soon, the repetitive actions of putting forks in draws and plates in cupboards becomes second nature and you find yourself zoning out as you work, oblivious to Izaya’s own labors in the other room until his voice once again breaks the relative silence of the apartment.

“What’s in this box?” Izaya asks innocently as he approaches the kitchen you’re in.

You turn your head to look at what he is referring to, unsurprised to find him already peering inside the flaps of the bright pink box he had just opened. It would be more surprising to you if he hadn’t opened the box. As an information broker and a naturally curious person in general, Izaya has a habit of checking things himself rather than waiting for someone to tell him what he wants to hear. You suppose in his field he is used to people attempting to lie to protect themselves anyway but the first few months of having your boyfriend casually invading every aspect of your privacy were overwhelming, to say the least. Rather than reaching a compromise (Izaya didn’t exactly do compromises), you grew used to it and no longer felt scandalized if you saw him shamelessly scrolling through your cell phone you had just changed the pass code to or bringing up a topic you had only talked about once before with a close friend. His actions had good intentions behind them...usually.

You recognize the pink box immediately and can’t help but to smile fondly at the memory.

“Ah, my mom dropped that off when she came to visit a few weeks ago. She said it's a housewarming gift. I haven’t gotten around to opening it though,” you answer, watching as he pulls out a few items and placing them on the breakfast bar between you two.

The first few objects are what you would expect, a few overpriced scented candles and a plush blanket in your favorite color. It is one of the last few items Izaya pulls out that has your mouth falling slack with shock and his own expression morphing from confusion to pure glee. Dangled from his right hand is an atrociously bright colored pack of small, uniform circles surrounded by clear plastic squares adorning matching colored cartoon fruits drawn on each.

Condoms...fruit flavored condoms.

You silently pray the group will just open up and swallow you whole as Izaya carelessly tosses the box to the side to turn all of his attention on the pack in his hands, excitedly assessing each of the options. While of course you are no stranger to sex, Izaya had a healthy libido afterall, it was generally a small, undisclosed part of your relationship together. When the moment struck it would happen, generally very vanilla with the occasional teasing remarks or dirty talk via Izaya, but afterwards neither of you ever talked about it or brought it up. But...now that you two would be living together...would it happen more often? Your cheeks instantly heat up in mortification at where your own perverted train of thought was rapidly heading.

“Which do you think we should try first, y/n-chan?” your boyfriend casually asks, eying the bright yellow pineapple flavor.

You nearly choke on your own spit.

“Wh-wha...Izaya, we need to get back to unpacking! P-put those away already,” you stutter out, stepping forward in an attempt to grab the pack from his hands, missing when he easily side-steps you and instead grabs your arm to pull you closer to his warm body. Your brain nearly short circuits when he leans forward to your left ear, hot breath leaving goosebumps along your neck as he murmurs.

“It’s important to take breaks, y’know,” he suggests calmly, like a doctor placating a panicked patient.

It works infuriatingly well and you find your whole body feeling like gelatin as you subconsciously relax in his hold.

“You like strawberries, right, y/n-chan~?”

You nod dumbly, thoughts too scattered to even think about what he’s really asking when his soft lips are just barely brushing the tip of your ear before his teeth offer a little nip that has your whole body shuddering. You’re brought back to your senses when you feel the arms he had snaked around your waist contract and pull up, gently placing you on top of the kitchen island.

“W-wait, we should go to the bedroom.”

Izaya seems unperturbed, fiddling with something behind you as his lips leave a trail of searing kisses along your neck. He doesn’t make a move to acknowledge your suggestion until you place your hands on his shoulders and attempt to push him off of you, at which he naturally doesn’t budge a single centimeter.

“Hmm? I’m in the kitchen because I’m going to eat something--I don’t see the problem.”

Something in the pit of your stomach flutters at the implication and you can’t find it in yourself to argue further. He disconnects from your neck and takes a step back only to tug at the bottom of your top. You raise your arms obediently, the action almost instinctive at this point, and he pulls your shirt off of your body, wasting no time removing your bra immediately afterwards. You immediately shiver at the sudden cold and would have moved your arms in front of your chest in embarrassment at how the brightly lit kitchen in midday leaves you feeling more exposed than usual but Izaya moves quickly and his lips are already back on your neck before you can ever react. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a bowl of fruits next to you that you didn’t remember being there before. You think nothing of it and let your eyes flutter closed when Izaya’s lips finally find your right nipple, sucking the nub into his hot mouth without hesitation, making your spine tingle. Your hands move up to clutch his dark locks, desperate for something to keep you grounded but the action only spurs him on further and he lets out a soft groan as he swirls his tongue around before scrapping the sensitive flesh with his teeth. You yelp when he sucks harshly, back arching away only for his hands to keep your firmly in place. He pulls back, releasing the nipple with a small pop before he moves his attention to it’s twin. You feel lightheaded with the contrast of cold air nipping at the rapidly cooling saliva on your right nipple while the left one is subjected to the blazing heat of Izaya’s mouth.

His right hand remains secured on the small of your back while the left first around to tease the nipple not in his mouth, mimicking the actions of his tongue with his fingers as he rolls the hardened bud in tight circles before pinching which his teeth nip. Your thighs rub together as you feel wetness pool in your underwear and you briefly wonder if it's possible to reach an orgasm with nipple stimulation alone.

Before you can find out firsthand, Izaya releases both of your nipples and pulls back. You can’t help the small whine that escapes your lips at the loss when both nipples now feel cold and achy. He giggles at that, the gleam in his vermillion eyes seeming dangerous.

“Don’t worry, princess, Izaya-sama will take good care of you~” he childishly promises, a stark contrast to the nimble fingers now unbuttoning your shorts before gently pushing your shoulder back until you lay flat on the marble counter. The surface is cold and hard, uncomfortable on your back, but the heat between your legs takes priority over all other discomforts. You waste no time lifting your hips so he can slide the fabric of your shorts and panties down your legs at once, all usual inhibitions seemingly lost when your head feels so fuzzy.

Izaya’s large hands firmly plant themselves on each of your knees and spread them apart slowly, like he’s opening his own personal Christmas present, until your heels are pressed into the edge of the counter. You can feel the cold air on your folds and know you must be absolutely soaked but you can’t resist chancing a glance up at Izaya’s expression.

Big mistake.

You can see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze is glued to the space between your thighs, licking his own lips in anticipation. Your core clenches at the sight and you feel more slick leaking out of your hole. His eyes follow the movement before he glances up at your flushed face and offers a knowing smirk. You think your soul just left your body.

His left hand slides down from your knee to your inner thigh, thumb resting right at the junction between your leg and pelvis right his right hand moves directly to your folds, two fingers gliding easily along the slick lips before reaching your clit, causing your whole body to jerk at the light contact.

He rubs circles around your clit through the hood until whines and soft moans are spilling your lips, his other hand teasing your folds with just his thumb. All movement stops abruptly and he pulls his hands away but before you can even mourn the loss of stimulation, his thumbs are hooked into each side of your folds and pulling your cunt open before he’s ducking his head down and swiping his tongue along the wetness. The moan that leaves your throat sounds nearly pornographic but you find it difficult to care when the tip of his wet tongue moves up to flick at your clit a few times before sliding back down and circling your small hole.

Izaya is neat and organized in all other aspects of his life but every time he eats your pussy it’s absolutely messy. Rather than lapping up your wetness he drools around his own tongue, making it ever wetter until every movement releases obscene clicks and sloshing sounds. He pulls back only a few centimeters, retracting his tongue back into his mouth for a second. You watch with morbid fascination as he collects the saliva in his mouth only to purse his lips over your pussy and let the liquid slowly drip down directly into your twitching hole. It feels dirty, it is dirty, but you can’t deny the flutter in your gut and the way your core absolutely pulses in pleasure as you audibly whimper. He keeps you spread open as his tongue delves back in, thrusting in and out of you before returning to your engorged clit. His right hand releases its hold only to push his middle finger inside of you, an easy glide with excess liquids dripping down to the counter by now. With each inwards thrust his finger curls upwards, stabbing a part of your fleshy insides that make your vision bloom until the kitchen lights above you are starbursts and everything is swimming.

The next time he pulls his middle finger out he presses his ring finger beside it and both are pressing into you, providing the slight sting of a stretch that has you keening while your cunt eagerly accepts them. His lips wrap around your clit to harshly suck as his two fingers press into that same spongy part and you’re seeing stars. You feel a familiar pressure in the pits of your belly, building bigger and bigger with each thrust of his fingers and scrape of his teeth against your clit. You’re going to cum soon.

“I-ngh--Izaya,” you whimper out, struggling to form the words you need to express your warning.

It is pointless really, Izaya is already exceptional at reading body language, even more so yours. He only hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations further stimulating your clit and making you press your hips forwards, seeking more as you draw closer and closer to the finish line. Every muscle in your body seems to contract as you feel it coming, tensing up in preparation for the impending release.

That’s when he decides to pull away.

You aren’t sure whether to cry or punch him in the face when you feel your incoming climax completely disappear, leaving your clit still throbbing and your hole empty, hopelessly clenching and unclenching around nothing. Your eyes open to give him the strongest glare you can muster only for him to not even be looking at you, instead fiddling with something you can’t see from your angle. You open your mouth, ready to curse him out until the words die in your throat as you watch him bring the fingers of high right hand that were just inside of you to his own mouth, casually licking them clean. Your heart stutters in your chest.

“Hmm...ah, this one is perfect.”

Your brows furrow in confusion as he seems to make up his mind about something. You move to sit up but he’s already back between your legs, grinning down at you as if he hadn’t just robbed you of an orgasm.

His left thumb slides back to your clit, making you shudder as a flame seems to rekindle inside of you. He wastes no time to set a fast pace rubbing your clit, quickly bringing you back close to where you were before but not quite. Then you feel something blunt pressed against your whole, much larger than any of his fingers. For a moment you think it might be his cock but you don’t recall seeing him unbuckle his pants at any point and the cool temperature is nothing like his familiar heat.

The object is circled around your hole and you notice it feels really smooth...like latex.

“Wh-what is that,” you ask nervously. The two of you haven't used toys before and you don’t recall him ever mentioning owning any.

His grin widens, seeming amused by your apprehension.

“You wanted to try strawberry, right? Well, I prefer bananas so why not both.”

You scramble to sit up and nearly have a heart attack when you see the curved yellow object wrapped in neon pink pressed against your pussy.

“Izaya, th-thats…!”

“Strawberry and banana--its like a smoothie~,” he explains proudly.

A sudden pinch on your clit has your arms faltering and makes you fall back, yelping as your back reconnects with the marble.

“Now be a good girl, yeah? I need to take care of this poor pussy.”

You choke on your own saliva as he presses the covered tip of the thick fruit into you, slowly stretching your hole open with a sharp sting.

“It’s just begging to be filled,” he croons.

You feel the stretch of each centimeter as he pushes it in but Izaya is relentless and doesn’t let up on the pressure until the tip bumps into your cervix and your muscles are spasming uncontrollably as your mouth opens in a silent scream.

“It’s...big,” you stutter out dumbly, hardly even aware you’re speaking out loud.

Izaya feigns an innocently concerned expression as his left thumb continues to rub circles into your clit.

“Ehh~? Then we’ll have to make sure we stretch you open properly ‘cause my cock is even bigger.”

You instinctively clench as you feel him pulling it out slowly, never fully removing it before he’s pushing it back in. The residual wetness from earlier makes a resounding squelch every time he pushes it back in that has your cheeks burning in shame.

With each thrust the stretch stings less and less, aided by his teasing on your clit never faltering, and instead you feel the familiar pleasure of having something thrusting inside of you, rubbing against your slick walls. The natural curve of the fruit forces the tip to hook into a spot just before your cervix then dragging along the top of your walls as it’s pulled out only to repeat the motion. That same pressure in your lower belly returns but a little stronger and you think if Izaya denies your orgasm this time you might actually die.

Izaya however, does not offer any indications that he plans to do so and instead moves his left hand from your cit to push your right thigh higher, your knee nearly touching your chest, so he has room to lean down use his tongue instead, right hand still continuing to fuck the banana into you, gradually quickening his pace until it feels punishing and its almost too much. The battering of the tip against your cervix has your body trying to pull away but Izaya’s hand keeps you firmly in place, forcing you to accept whatever he gives you.

It’s when he uses his teeth to lightly nibble on your bud while simultaneously shifting the angle of fruit that your climax rips through your body, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire and rendering your eyes useless as white blinds your vision. Your mouth is open and sounds are coming out but you yourself can’t even process what you’re saying. Izaya continues his assault with vigor, making you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before the come down has you too sensitive and using what little remains of your strength to kick him away and attempt to close your legs.

You hardly have the strength to deny him of anything on a good day, let alone after an intense orgasm, but he seems to be feeling generous enough to stop when you say it's too much. He pulls his head away from between your thighs and you try to ignore the glistening juices dripping down the corners of his mouth and smeared on his chin as he slowly removes the banana from your fluttering pussy. You feel empty again and you can literally feel your stretched hole gaping, leaving you feeling embarrassed. Izaya dips down suddenly to press a single peck to your clit. You whine softly in over-sensitivity but the unexpectedly sweet gesture makes your chest feel warm.

As you attempt to catch your breath, Izaya moves away again, removing the sticky condom from the fruit and throwing it in the trash bin before placing the equally sticky banana back on the counter next to the fruit bowl. You’re about to make a complaint when he moves back to your side, smirking at your disheveled state and picking you up, one hand behind your back and the other beneath your knees, to carry you to the bedroom.

He places you on the freshly made sheets gingerly, your body immediately sinking into the plush mattress like a puddle. He leaves the room only to return a few seconds later with a plastic bottle of water and a paper pamphlet you recognize as the menu to one of your favorite takeout restaurants. Your brows furrow in confusion as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, silently skimming through the menu, undoubtedly already knowing what both of you will order.

Despite the heaviness in your lids and bonelessness of your body, you sit up to question the man.

“Izaya?”

His eyes shift over to you in question, his expression dangerously mischievous yet unreadable as usual.

“Aren’t you...don’t you need to, like...get off?” you cringe at how awkward and undeniably unsexy your words sound and you can see the mirth in his gaze but he decides to spare you the teasing for now.

“Aww, my little human is so eager to please her god~” he lilts.

You roll your eyes in response before squealing when he pulls you into his arms, forcing you both to lie back down on the bed, entangled in his arms while he teasing blows a puff of air in your left ear just to watch you squirm as you try to get away.

“Don’t worry, y/n-chan, I’m satisfied just watching you.”

Your chest swells and your annoyed expression melts into a small smile at the implication that he cared more about your own pleasure and exhaustion than his own needs--

“I never would have thought you’d enjoy getting fucked by a fruit so much~! Next time should we try a cucumber?”

You have zero regrets when you punch him in the chest.

#izaya x reader #durarara #durarara imagine #durarara scenario #izaya imagine #izaya scenario #reader insert #smut #durarara smut #izaya smut #durarara x reader #anime imagine #anime scenario #anime fic #durarara fic #forgive me lord for i have sinned #I just want Izaya to eat my pssy like that :(

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clonecaptains · 4 years ago

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FINDING YOU CAN CHANGE | a first order poe dameron x reader fic

rating: m - for smut, and some thematic elements

word count: 6k

summary: Everything changes for First Order Commander Poe Dameron when he’s forced into an arranged marriage - to you.

a/n: I wanted to try something different, this is still a reader fic - just from Poe’s POV. This is a standalone fic - it’s not related to any of my other FO!Poe fics. I’m really in love w/ this story and I hope you all love it too! Feedback is much appreciated!!

Finding You Can Change

An irritated grumble threatens to escape Poe’s lips when he hears the loud banging on the door of his quarters. There’s no point in even having a door, because in 3, 2, 1, it opens with a hiss. Two Stormtroopers enter, and a First Order officer follows behind.

“Captain Dameron, you’re wanted by General Hux immediately.”

“Again?” Poe’s lips are in a tight line. His brow creased. Poe didn’t miss how the officer put emphasis on ‘captain.’ Poe was demoted today from commander to captain for ‘reckless’ flying. He’s been grounded and was told he’d been given other duties on the Starship instead of being allowed to pilot a TIE fighter.

The officer stands straight and still by Poe’s door. Poe gives him a look, and it’s apparent the officer won’t leave without Poe.

Poe huffs out his nose sharply, then stands to straighten his uniform. He tugs at the tight collar and smooths over any creases. His shiny boots click on the cold floor, begrudgingly following his new commanding officer to the general.

The Stormtroopers follow behind Poe. He raises an eyebrow in question, then chuckles to himself. They don’t trust him. Good. He likes it that way.

Poe wasn’t sure what he expected when he was to be brought to Hux, but what he sees before his eyes now is not it by any means. There’s officers and Stormtroopers all around, most of them working or standing guard. General Hux is by a large window overlooking the planet below. It’s the most gorgeous blue Poe’s ever seen. Standing next to him is a beautiful woman. You. You’re visible shaking, and Poe feels uncomfortable already.

He prefers flying, it’s easier. No emotions with flying around in a squadron. But seeing tears in your eyes, he shifts his weight on his boots. His hands behind his back clench into fists.

“Congratulations Captain Dameron,” Hux sneers. Poe wants to roll his eyes. Hux hates Poe as much as Poe hates him. Hux is the reason Poe was demoted. Poe’s ‘reckless flying’ was from flying too close to Hux’s particular window and scaring him. Poe still smiles at the thought.

“For what?” Why the hell is Hux congratulating him? “For being demoted for making you squeal?” A nearby officer snickers and Hux gives them a glare. Poe’s grin is smug.

“System 118 has agreed to our terms. A deal has been brokered. A peace offering given - pledging their allegiance to the First Order.”

“And?” Poe raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t care about this.

“She is the peace offering.” Hux points to you, and more tears fall from your eyes.

“What does that have to do with me?” Poe’s eyebrows crease in question. What is he supposed to do? Kill you?

“Meet your new wife!” Hux seems overjoyed to give Poe this news.

“Pardon?” Poe asks; at the same time, you gasp. A nearby Stormtrooper grabs your arm and shoves you towards Poe. He catches you; concern is all over his face. He can’t imagine what you’re thinking as you look at him. He’s thinking about how sad your eyes look, but also how lovely you are. Is that strange to think about? He wonders.

He’s so caught up looking at your face that he almost misses Hux happily declaring you as his bride.

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you blink at him. The tears haven’t stopped falling from your eyes, and his chest feels tight. There’s an anger in the back of his neck. He doesn’t like this. There’s no way this ends with you just being his wife. What does that entail? Will you be something they use later? Is your life more than just as a bargaining chip?

“Right,” he murmurs to you and presses a quick peck to your lips. He frowns looking back up at Hux. Something is wrong with this.

“Commander!” Hux shouts, “fire at will!”

“What?” you shout and lunge forward.

“What’s going on here General?” Poe’s anger is building.

“I lied,” Hux shrugs. The nearby officers begin pushing buttons and pulling levers. In a few moments, an angry red beam hits the planet below. It pierces the surface and cracks the planet in two. The beautiful blue now red.

Screaming in horror, you fall to your knees watching your home planet fall to destruction. Poe is quick to catch you, and he presses your face into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but he doesn’t know what good that does. For a moment you cry in his arms, then you pull back and hit his chest with your fists, crying all the while. Poe stands still, he lets you. You’ve lost your freedom and watched the destruction of your home in one day. He remembers losing his freedom.

“Best of wishes tonight Poe!” an officer laughs, “she’s a fighter!”

Poe almost pulls his blaster on the man in anger. Instead, he reaches for you gently. “C’mon,” he beckons. You don’t want to go with him, but you don’t have any other options.

The walk down to Poe’s quarters is long and awkward silence has Poe tugging on his collar again. His door opens with a hiss and you follow him inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Poe offers, he’s unsure of what to do. A sob escapes your lips and you run towards what you can only guess is his private refresher. The second the door closes behind you, the sobs come freely. The door does nothing to hide them from his ears. Poe stands alone in his room feeling helpless. He doesn’t want this any more than you do, but he didn’t lose his home today.

It’s such a private thing to hear someone cry, and he wishes he didn’t have to hear you. Because he can do nothing to offer any comfort. He doesn’t know how. He’s been trained for death and destruction since he was taken from his home as a child. He’s trained as a pilot his entire life, never thinking, or caring about others because he didn’t have to. Now there’s a woman, his wife, crying in his fresher and he has no idea what to do.

He stands by the door and almost knocks. His gloved hand forms a fist and he’s inches away from rapping his knuckles on the door, but he doesn’t know what to say.

Your crying seems to get louder, echoing in the small space. He knows that you know he can hear you. It hits him then that you were given to him as a punishment – but he will not punish you for this. The thought fills him with dread that you could have been given to someone else. He has no desire to hurt you. You’re not his enemy. He’s never been entirely sure who his enemy is. Adrenaline and thrill of the flight has pushed those thoughts from his mind. But8 being grounded and you brought into his life is changing everything he thought he knew.

He has to say something.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to the door, getting ready to knock.

“Leave me alone,” your voice is muffled through the door. You heard him take a breath.

“I only wish to know your name.”

“My name?”

“They never even told me your name,” he huffs out his nose in distaste.

The door hisses open and suddenly you’re face to face with him. He looks at your appearance. Eyes puffy from crying. Cheeks stained with smudged makeup. Your dress is elegant and flattering to your figure. What a terrible wedding day.

You both look each other over. His uniform is the sleek black that matches all the rest. But you notice his eyes have something in them that the others don’t. His hair is styled nicely. Curls slicked back on his head in thick waves, then the sides of his head above his ears are shaved. It’s clean and sharp, just like the rest of him. He’s all sharp angles, except for those soft eyes and lips.

You say your name, and he repeats it.

Your next action shocks him. You start to remove your dress, but he stops you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, your wrists in his hands.

“I don’t have any choice, do I? I’d rather let it happen than you-“

“Hurt you?” he finishes your sentence. “No,” he lets go of your hands. “You don’t have to let them win.”

“But I’ve already lost everything,” you look down at your feet. “You, my husband, are all I have. I guess.”

“Here,” he steps away from you and pulls a drawer from a hidden dresser in the wall. He hands you a pair of shorts and a soft shirt. He feels your fingers touch his. Even through the leather of his gloves it sends a spark.

“Standard issue?” you smile. That’s the first smile of yours he’s seen. It’s lovely.

“It’s all I have that’s comfortable,” he replies with a smile of his own.

“Thank you,” you nod. He swears he can see a shy smile on your lips as you hold the clothes tight. He’s already feeling taken with you.

“You’re welcome,” Poe nods back.

You take a step towards the fresher, but his voice stops you.

“Have you eaten? Would you like me to bring you something?” He watches your expression for any apprehension. He can tell you’re nervous. This situation is delicate. He wants you to feel safe.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit. He nods and offers you his arm. You set down the little stack of folded clothes on his desk and take his elbow. He smiles to himself when he feels you squeeze his bicep.

It’s a strange feeling walking down the corridors of the Starship with you on his arm. You squeeze tighter every time someone passes by. In his youth, Poe would have loved knowing the fear the First Order brought. But seeing the direct result of it, and having you literally thrown into his life has him thinking differently. Your smile is so much more beautiful than your sobs of fear.

Once you reach the entryway for the common eating area, Poe places his hand on your back and gently nudges you in the doorway. Your eyes look frantic in the room full of officers. Poe’s look is stern, but his touch is gentle and protective. He directs you to a corner table and takes your hand as you sit down.

“I’ll be right back,” he makes sure you see his eyes. You nod, but he senses your nerves.

He turns away from you for a moment to get some food for you both. Turning back around, he sees a couple officers cornering you at the table.

“Hey!” Poe snaps. A snarl is on his lips as he storms over, dropping the plates with a clatter on the table. He grabs one officer by his uniform shirt and pulls him towards his face. “Leave her alone.”

“Captain Dameron!” Poe stops when he hears Hux speak his name. He sees your eyes wide with fear, and Poe turns to face Hux – his hands still holding the other officer’s uniform. “Would you like to be demoted a second time today?”

Poe looks between Hux, the officer, and you. He releases his grip on the officer, and sits down across from you at the table, ignoring those around him and digs into his food.

Hux turns with a laugh and the rest of the men follow, leaving you alone with Poe at the table. It’s only then you feel like eating.

“Demoted?” you ask, attempting to make conversation.

“He hates me,” Poe smiles fondly. “I was a pilot. I flew too close to his window. Scared him.” He can’t help but smile retelling the story. “I heard he squealed.”

Laughter bubbles up from your lips and you both laugh at the thought of Hux getting scared.

“He demoted you for that? Seems a little harsh.”

“He said something about respecting my superior officer, but I wasn’t listening.”

Another smile breaks out on his face as you continue to laugh. Poe feels a pride in getting you to laugh so much after such a terrible day.

Once you’ve finished your meals, Poe offers you his arm again and proudly leads you through eating area. The walk back to his quarters seems less long, and lighter. You make light chit chat all the way to his room. It carries on, only stopping when you grab the clothes, he gave you and step into the fresher.

When the door is closed behind you, he takes this opportunity to change out of his uniform. He’s glad to be rid of the collar itching his throat. He moves about his room as normal, hanging up his uniform and pulling on a pair of sleep pants and a comfortable shirt. When he passes by the refresher door, he gets a whiff of your perfume hanging in the air. He can hear you crying softly in the refresher, obviously hoping the water would mask the sound of your broken heart. But he hears it all the same.

This hurts him, even though he brought a smile to your face and had you laughing – the pain of loss still lingers in your mind.

He decides to busy himself now with making a bed for himself. He has an extra blanket to sleep on. The ship runs cold most of the time, but Poe finds himself hot at night. He’ll be fine to sleep on this folded up blanket on the floor. He will give you his bed.

He hears the fresher door open, and he stands from where he was kneeling on the floor by his makeshift bed. You stand awkwardly, hair wet and your dressed draped over your arm.

“Here,” he walks towards you. “I’ll take that.” As he approaches you, his eyes can’t help but see your nipples through the shirt he gave you. When you cross your arms over your chest, he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He ducks his head and takes the dress to hang it up in his closet.

After he hangs it up, he turns to see you start to lay down on the blanket laid out on the floor.

“No, you can take the bed.”

“Are you sure?” you act surprised by his gesture. He nods jutting his chin out. He’s sure. You don’t ask any more questions. He watches you climb under the covers and lay down with a sigh.

“I don’t want this as much as you do,” he offers as he lays down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“What did you expect joining the First Order?”

“It wasn’t my choice.”

“You could have left.”

“I don’t get that choice. You can’t leave.” He sighs and says “OFF.” The bright room is suddenly dark, and he hears you gasp softly. He rolls over trying to ignore your cries, but it’s not working.

Eventually, exhaustion and grief catch up with you. He can tell when you’re asleep because your breathing evens out. Laying there in the darkness, he tries to imagine what life the two of you will even lead now. What will your purpose be for him?

Poe must have fallen asleep at some point because he wakes up in the middle of the night to hear you scream.

“ON.” Poe says quickly and scrambles to get up to see what’s wrong. His eyes adjust quickly, but yours don’t and you’re blinking rapidly. You’re sitting upright in the bed, more tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Poe asks.

“Nightmare,” is all you can manage to say. All you could see was your home crack in to pieces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Poe sits back down on his bed.

“Waking you.”

He shrugs and lays back down. “Off.”

“Wait, on.”

When the light doesn’t turn on, Poe laughs.

“On,” he says, and the lights turn on. He sits up, still laughing.

“What?” you smile too, a little embarrassed.

“It’s trained to my voice,” he says. “But I can program yours in too if you’d like. What did you want?”

“Oh.” You’re visibly flustered, and Poe is delighted in this. It means you’re feeling comfortable around him, even though you’re flustered. That’s better than angry by a mile. “The floor looks terribly uncomfortable.”

“It is, actually.” Poe laughs, raking his hands through his curls. He needs more gel in his hair because the curls aren’t slicked back anymore but are resting on his forehead.

“Would you-“

“Join you?” Poe smiles softly. He knows why you want him up there. He tosses his pillow up and climbs under the covers with you. “OFF.”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says quietly. His shoulder is touching yours, and he’s about to roll over when you suddenly reach for him. Fumbling in the dark, your hand brushes against his crotch, and he sits up grabbing your hand. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you pull your hand away and roll away from him. “You were being so nice I-“

“You don’t have to,” he tells you. Voices whispered in the dark offer little comfort, but his is a comfort to you somehow.

“I just thought, since you’re my husband now...”

Poe snickers, “what a day huh?” He laughs, but you’re not laughing. Your voice sounds small when you speak again.

“I understand if you don’t want me. You probably have someone else.”

“It’s quite the opposite in fact,” he admits. He’s taken many lovers in his life, but there is no one else for him. And he is quite taken with you. “In fact, your touch has turned me on.”

With the command from his voice, the lights turn on, causing you to giggle.

“OFF.” He says immediately, getting another laugh from you. “So, you’re not scared of me?”

“No,” you reply. “I’m scared of them, not you.”

He feels your body jump under his hand when he touches your arm. He rolls you over on your back. Your eyes have adjusted, and you can barely make out each other’s faces, but it’s enough.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” he grins. “But if you don’t want this – then no harm done. You weren’t expecting this.”

“Actually, I was.”

“How?” Poe sits up. “On.”

In the light, you sit up too, facing him.

“I knew I was going to be a peace offering for my home. It was not my choice, but I knew for some time. I was frightened, but then they sent me to you. And you’ve been nothing but kind. And-“

“And what?”

“Say ‘off,’” you smile, flustered again.

“Oh, no. You’re gonna say it,” Poe quirks up a brow and waits. He holds your gaze. He doesn’t mind staring at your face. He watches you wriggle uncomfortably. Taking a chance, he leans forward, his lips millimeters for yours. “Say it.”

“You’re gorgeous,” you whisper.

He chuckles darkly.

“Off.”

Then his lips are on you. He’s a little rough, but his hands are gently pushing you back down on the bed. His teeth clack against yours, and he growls when your fingers weave through his curls. His tongue slips into your mouth and you gasp a little.

“Poe,” you keep gasping his name through hot kisses, “Poe, wait!” You’re laughing but he can hear the skittish tone in your voice. “I’ve never done this,” you say really fast. As if that will make it easier to admit.

Poe sighs in the dark, you can’t see his expression. He can’t see yours. That wild pilot side of him is eager, he’s never been anyone’s first before. But this new side of him that’s embracing the emotions, decides it’s better for everyone to go easy on you.

“Nice and slow,” Poe says, kissing your lips again. It’s been so long since he’s enjoyed the taste of another. His hands slide under your shirt and you help him pull it off. In the dark, he finds your breasts and cups them greedily. Your gasp is sharp and is music to his ears. He squeezes them and his thumbs flick over your nipples. “Baby, you got nice tits,” he purrs in your ear.

Your head falls back on the pillow when his lips latch on a nipple.

“Poe,” you gasp.

“Yeah, baby?” he hums.

“What do I do?” your voice is sheepish. Your body is responding, and he can tell you’re into this. But it’s driving him wild that you’re shy.

“Put your hands anywhere you want, baby. Pull on my hair.”

You give his curls a slight tug, and he moans. You do it again, pulling that groan from his lips.

“Atta girl. You’re catching on quick.”

He takes this opportunity to take off his shirt. He scoots down on the bed and reaches for the hem of the shorts he gave you.

“Is this ok?” he asks tugging a little.

“Yes.”

As soon as the confirmation leaves you lips, he pulls them down and off. He chuckles again when your legs clamp together.

“Baby, if you want me in there you gotta open up.” He rests his hands on your thighs, and he’s dizzied with his own arousal. You feel so good in his hands. He’s already decided he wants to give you everything.

He feels when the tension in your legs fade, and he takes that as his cue to part your thighs for him.

“Good girl,” he licks his lips and sucks with a loud smack. You jump when you feel a fingertip touch your sex. “Easy,” he coos. “Gotta get you warmed up for me.” His thumb begins working circles on your sex, and he slides a finger then two into your heat. He coaxes you through the first orgasm, then he adds another finger. Your whines only encourage him.

When he deems you ready for him, he tugs off his pants and positions himself on top of you.

He wears a ring around his neck on a chain, and it touches your chest and you gasp in surprise.

“What’s that?”

“Oh,” he stops, taking the necklace off. “I’ve had it since I can remember. I think it was my mother’s or something. I suppose you should wear it now.”

“Why?” you whisper.

“You’re my wife.” He’s surprised at himself for saying it, but he’s accepted it. He puts the ring on your finger. Your fingers fumble together in the dark. He holds that hand when he pushes himself inside you.

He pauses when you wince, giving you a moment. You surprise him then with a sudden kiss and roll your hips under him. He laughs, feeling your eagerness grow as you become more and more at ease with this whole situation, and him.

His hips move fast and hard. You’re seeing stars and you feel a tight coil in your belly like you’ve never felt before and he’s already given you an amazing orgasm.

“I’m gonna spoil you baby, give you everything you want.” He purrs in your ear, biting it. His hands squeeze your breasts.

“Harder,” you groan. He obliges. His grin could split his face.

He feels you tighten around him, and your release hits you both hard. It triggers his own and he spills himself into you. Your groans mix together with heated kisses.

“Beautiful,” Poe hums kissing you before he rolls off you.

“You can’t even see me,” you giggle.

“Oh yeah? On.”

You shriek and jump under the covers with a laugh. He shoves his hands underneath to tickle your sides. When the covers fall, exposing you fully to him in the light, he smiles.

“I got damn lucky.”

“So did I,” you smile and lean forward to kiss him. Your fingers tug on his curls a little more and he closes his eyes happily. He gives you another quick peck then hops off the bed and disappears into the fresher.

He returns with a damp rag to clean the sticky between your thighs. Maybe it’s the loss and trauma from today, or maybe it’s the intimacy in his touch, but tears fall from your eyes once more. Only this time you don’t fight them or try to hide them from him. This time his thumb gently reaches up your dry your tears.

“I’m sorry,” Poe says again, laying down beside you on his back. Timidly, you curl up next to him. With a sure arm, he guides you to rest your head on his chest, and he holds you tight. “Off.”

He doesn’t know how else to apologize for what’s happened today, but he can only hope that he’s brought you some comfort with intimacy. If anything, it’ll help you sleep.

For the second time that night Poe finds himself laying awake, hearing you drift off to sleep. This second time is much better. He didn’t realize how empty his bed felt before.

He sleeps hard.

He almost forgot what happened the day before. When he wakes up next to you, it startles him for a moment. But when he sees your sleeping face, he smiles softly.

The peaceful moment is rudely interrupted when Poe’s door opens, and he hears Hux’s voice shout “ON!”

When the lights come on, Poe immediately covers your body with his, pulling the sheets up around you both. You gasp at being woken up so abruptly, and Poe gives you a look of apology.

“Can this wait?” Poe’s voice rises in anger. You’re embarrassed and he’s angry, you’ve had enough stress for a dozen lifetimes.

“So, you didn’t waste any time then,” Hux sneers. Poe turns his head slightly, seeing Hux with two officers and 6 Stormtroopers. He smirks to himself. They really don’t trust him.

“Would you mind giving me and my wife some privacy?”

“I won’t be actually,” Hux tuts. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on,” Poe whispers you an apology, your eyes are wild with fear.

“Sweetheart?” Hux continues to laugh. “He’s become attached,” Hux looks to the officers for a supportive laugh. They reply in tight smiles, no one thinks this is funny but Hux. “Then this will become more of a shock.”

“What are you talking about?” Poe asks. He can feel his blood pressure rising.

“There’s been a change of plans, and I’d like the peace offering back.”

The anger in Poe’s chest blooms and he grits his teeth. He blows hot air out his nose and jumps out of the bed, much to the shock of everyone in the room.

Poe doesn’t care that he’s naked either, his anger has him seeing red. You pull the sheets up to your nose and delight in the shock all over Hux’s face as Poe grabs him by the collar. The Stormtroopers are unsure of what to do – they stand frozen in shock. The other two officers are stifling laughs at Hux’s expense.

“If you dare to touch one hair on her head,” Poe snarls. His grip tight on Hux’s collar.

“You’ll what?” Hux challenges back through his surprise. “Seize her!” Hux orders the Stormtroopers.

“Don’t!” Poe yells and leans back, and with full force he punches Hux in the nose. Hux leans forward yelling in pain, grabbing his already bleeding nose. Poe takes this as his chance to run behind his desk, he yells “OFF!” and you hear blaster fire – and see six red bolts zap across the room.

When the blaster fire stops, the smell of smoke is thick in the air. Hux yells out “ON!”

All six Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor. The two officers stand in amazement at what they’ve just seen. Slowly they walk backwards through the doorway, their footsteps running down the corridor can be heard echoing.

You’d be scared of Hux in this moment, but this situation is humorous. His face is red with anger and his own blood pouring from his nose. Poe stands behind his desk, his eyes full of rage. You’re not scared of Poe – but between the two men, Poe’s expression is more terrifying. Poe looks at you, and he sees no fear in your eyes, which is all that matters. He also sees your eyes flick down to look at his ass, which gives him a little pride.

Hux makes a threat, then trips over a dead Stormtrooper on his way out the door.

The moment the door closes, Poe’s shoulders drop, and the blaster falls from his hand with a loud clatter. His hands come to rest on his desk, and he sighs, you can see him trembling from the bed. Wrapping the sheet around yourself, you gingerly walk towards him – putting a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at first, then relaxes at your touch when he sees your face.

“We have to leave,” he tells you, looking at his knuckles, they’re bruising. “Now. I have no idea where we’ll go, but I have to get you out of here.”

“I know a place,” you tell him. “We’ll need a ship.”

He nods, starting to get dressed in his uniform.

“Get dressed,” he tells you, tossing you your dress. “We can’t waste any time”

“Poe,” you reach for him, your hand coming to rest on his bicep. “Thank you.” He holds your gaze for a beat, nods, then turns towards his closet to get his uniform shirt and coat. He feels your gaze hold, and you reach for his bruised hand. Your thumb softly touches his knuckles. “You risked your life for me.”

He pulls his hand from your grasp and cups your cheek, “we need to go, sweetheart.” He leans forward to brush his lips on your forehead. “Hux’s broken nose gave us some time, but we don’t have much.”

You take the dress and Poe tries not to let his eyes linger – but he’s captivated by your beauty. Seeing you standing naked in his room, that shy look in your eyes as you try to dress quickly.

“Can you?” you turn your back to him, signaling you need him to fasten some clasps in the back.

“You are beautiful, you know,” Poe offers quietly. His hands squeeze your hips a little in comfort. “Ready?”

You nod, and he holsters his blaster. He shoves a large amount of credits in his pockets from drawers, then you’re out the door.

You hold your skirts in one hand, allowing you to walk quickly. Poe’s hand is on your back, his other hand ready on his blaster.

He sneaks you both into the main ship’s hangar. A squad of Stormtroopers is following closely behind. He manages to kill a couple of them before directing you to his TIE fighter. Blaster rounds hit the ship, and Poe swears under his breathe trying to get the ship to come to life.

“Coordinates?” he looks to you and you give them; he punches them in quickly and makes the jump to lightspeed.

He sighs loudly and leans back in the pilot seat.

“Where are we going?” Poe asks once he catches his breath. He looks on the screen and sees the coordinates location.

“The Resistance base.”

“You’re Resistance?” Poe’s eyebrows raise, and he laughs in surprise.

“You are too now,” you tell him. “When we get close, I’ll open a channel, so they won’t shoot us out of the sky.”

Poe nods. He’s glad he’s left the First Order, but a thought haunts him now. What if, you want nothing to do with him after this? He’s only known you for a day, but you’ve changed the entire course of his life.

“Look,” he starts, and you look up at him. Your eyes are so beautiful, if you really do turn him away, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. “I understand if when we get on base, if – if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Who said anything about that?” you ask him, reaching for his hand. “You’re my husband.” You take off his glove, checking on his bruised knuckles. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want you to stay because you feel you owe me,” he starts to pull his hand away, but you won’t let him pull away.

“Well maybe I have a crush,” you avoid his gaze and start to trace the veins on the back of his hand. “On a certain commander who punches First Order Generals while naked.” Your eyes look up at him, and he sees the humor in your eyes, and the soft grin on your cheeks.

“It was only because I was naked right?” he deadpans, getting you to laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t see you look at my ass sweetheart,” he leans forward, lips near yours. He growls playfully and nips at your bottom lip. “Maybe I have a crush too on a beautiful woman who lost everything but still shows a tremendous strength.”

His heart his hammering in his chest, and he wonders if you feel the same.

“And she makes these cute little noises when I touch her tits,” his eyes flick up to yours, the emotion on your face goes from soft to a flustered grin.

You shake your head and lean in to kiss his lips.

“You’re wrong about one thing though,” you comb your fingers through his wild curls. No time for gel this morning.

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t lose everything.” He quirks a brow. “I got you.”

He blinks, then smiles kissing you again. “You’re wrong about one thing too,” he teases.

“Oh?”

“You called me commander. It’s captain remember?”

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” you laugh, “but I didn’t think we were listening to anything Hux said.”

A beeping alerts Poe that you’re near the system.

“You’re up,” he tells you. The ship drops out of lightspeed and a green planet comes into view. He watches you with silent pride as you open a channel to the base below requesting permission to land.

Poe feels uneasy, his entire life he’s been a part of the First Order. He’s stepping into uncharted territory.

“C’mon,” you tell him and offer your hand. He takes it and follows you off the ship. A curious crowd of rebels have gathered, they’re excited to see a TIE fighter up close. And many that have gathered are friends of yours.

Poe hears whispers as people walk by, and he holds your hand tighter.

The both of you are greeted then by an older woman, she has kind eyes. Poe observes her take your hands in hers and give her a gentle look. He can’t place it, but he knows she must have heard what happened with your home yesterday. You hug this woman, and Poe can barely make out what she says to you in your ear, something about how “she’s been where you are.”

He waits patiently for the introduction to be made, and his heart jerks in his chest when he hears you call him your husband.

“It’s a long story,” you laugh, but you pat his arm and lean up to kiss his cheek. “The First Order has ruined his life too, and he’s got intel. I trust this man with my life.”

Never once does it cross Poe’s mind to reveal the location of this base to the First Order, in fact it now gives him a great joy that he knows this big secret and Hux doesn’t. Now he knows why Hux must have wanted you this morning. The fact that you trust him so deeply with this, touches his heart.

“Wait, you’re Commander Poe Dameron?” someone runs up. There’s a burst of laughter and at first Poe frowns to be the center of attention. “Were you the one that broke Hux’s nose? While naked??”

Poe looks at you, and you both share a laugh.

“Word travels fast,” Poe feels smug. Hux is probably seething with rage even more now that he’s figured out Poe and gotten away, and you with him.

Poe looks around this place, sees all the smiling faces. He’s never seen so much happiness in his life. He watches you walk away with General Organa and he feels his heart jump again. He thinks he might love you, and when you turn around to give him a smile, he thinks you might love him too.

“Tell us the story!” another voice pipes up. Poe looks at all their faces and starts to smile himself. He opens his mouth to speak when he stops, noticing all their uniforms aren’t tight around the neck. Oh yes, he’s going to love it here.

xxx

tagging: @pascalispedro, @damndamer0n, @tintinwrites, @huliabitch, @himbopoes, @yougottakeeponkeepinon, @poeticandors, @darksideofclarke, @thesefleshfailures, @zeldasayer, @mrpascals, @pascalplease, @propertyofpoeandbucky, @writefightandflightclub, @mandoplease, @woakiees

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #first order poe dameron #fo!poe #mine #my writing #my gifs #IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THISSSSS

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sweetmisschesire · 4 years ago

Text

Pt 2

Maysibelle (mayday)

Mayday is the last fight before eve

So the fight starts with her singing and the brothers blasting their way in

Since they dont have a guitar player they just sort of use some recordings they render to their liking to make up for it

So in their interruption imagine it like the Highway to Hell opera video, only right before the singing of the rock song starts maysibelle stops the music by snapping her fingers

She has both those mannequins neon j made for her and actual people dancing

After she stopped the music the dancers stopped with the human dancers moving off to the side of the ballroom for their own safety

This is the dress she is wearing

And this is the mask

And hair

(She speaks in an aloof, emotionless tone)

“Ah so this is the infamous duo who don’t know their place”

(Z is zuke w is west)

W: and what exactly is our place

“Away from these districts, learning how to play respectable music”

Z: you all need to come off it already, what do you have against rock?

“It boisters itself as superior in music and yet now look at it. Only the talentless dare practice it. “

W: me thinks the lady doth protest too much

“How dare you. Leave, now.”

Z: sorry but not without this district

*laughter* “very well then have at you”

So the video i linked before with the three songs is what plays during her battle

(This is not a fun fight for west, gotta add some humor)

While she sings west and zuke have to dodge the mannequins as they dance towards them as a attack

They find out they’re mannequins when a mask gets knocked of one of them leaving the oulines of pupiless eyes on a blank face

W: mannequins why mannequins?

Z: seriously those things still freak you out?!

W: yes! Especially ones that dance on their own!

They also keep getting hit by something they cant really see

Zuke: what the heck is going on what is even hitting us

W: she’s got nice pipes though, but we can play better

The next phase starts with the second song and after theyve beaten the mannequins, with a head of one being knocked into her mask damaging it

The mannequins are cleared out and some life sized marrionettes drop down

W: it gets worst! Please no dolls.

Her costume in this phase is this (it was under her dress)

And both her and the marrionette dance ballet as she sings

The difference here is the marionettes will lift up and drop down so they have to watch the shadows to see where they land

This is also how they start understanding what’s hitting them

Z: *watches a shadow fly towards his brother and hit him* so that’s what been hitting us? Bro! Watch for all the shadows on the floor, i think that’s what was getting us in the last phase!

W: why am i the one she keeps aiming for?! Lady lay off already!

Z: bigger target?

They cut down the marionettes from their strings leaving them useless with west panicking when one touches him and throwing it at maysibelle, fracturing her mask more

“I’ll get you for that.”

W: you’ve literally been going mostly after me already!

(She changes her costume during the convo, she walks behing a screen and steps out in it)

“As your brother said you are indeed the larger target. And your brother has been far more respectful than you.”

W: hey

Z: she’s kind of right though

The skirt is a bit shorter covering her feet bit easy to move in

No assistance this time though she has fans she throws that are weapons and they still have to dodge the mystery attack

At one point dk west trips over a doll that somehow lands on the floor

W: *screams*

“..... it’s just a doll. And don’t you dare break her.

Z: bro we’ve gotta do something about this fear of yours

The end of this phase after they’ve hit her enough ends with wth west knocking on of her fans back into her mask which is now covered in cracks

“Are you incapable of anything but disrespect?”

W: are you capable of talking like you can feel emotions?

“Perhaps i should hit you harder?”

Z: you are just on fire today bro

W: what she acts and talks like she can’t feel anything

“Emotions are meant to be controlled, it is inappropriate to let others see you in such a state.”

W:...

Z:... what

W: you know you would probably have an easier time telling people how you feel eithout that mask

“Don’t you dare to touch it! I am never to show my face in public!”

Z: okay this is getting a bit uncomfortable

W: what kind of messed up logic is that?

“I don’t expect you to understand his teachings. Nor do i expect you to understand that you two could never power Vinyl City!”

W: says you and every other so called artist. Can’t wait to prove you all wrong

“I’ve had just about enough of you. Since you’ve made it further than i thought capable, allow me to show you my true power. Bask in trance techno opera, all i was ever born to do.”

Z: alright now it’s really uncomfortable

She walks behind another screen and steps out in this

The lights center on her and the brothers can make out this black smoke like mist surrounding her a bit

She moves her hands to the start of her phantom of the opera performance and the mist moves with her

Z: that’s what was hitting us before?!

As she sings she sends out this mist that is basically like energy and they have to dodge it while attacking her

They get to the lull in the song with no singing

Z: whoever you’re doing this for you dont have to

West isnt quite following yet

“Hmm, charming. I do this because i must. But since you seem to love doling out advice, allow me to return the favor.”

“Apologize. She deserves that much from you, and more.”

Zuke is surprised by this and maysibelle gets in a hit as she goes back to singing

W: maybe focus on the fight instead of small talk?

Z: ...

W: seriously she’s just messing with ya

Z: no she’s not. I know exactly who she’s talking about

It takes a lot to get through this fight and maysibelle actually shows some signs of anger and frustration before immediately pushing them down

This is where west starts picking up on something being wrong with her

Towards the end of the song they work their way up to her and zuke manages to push though and smash his drumsticks down

Hebhad been aiming for her microphone but accidentally hit her mask finallt shattering it

The music stops as she screams and drops to her knees covering her face

W: woah man that was a bit much don’t you think? You coulda broker her nose

Z: I don’t think that’s the reason she screamed.

He notices some of the people left are peering over and sees the cameras oving to see her better

Z: *frowning* do you all not know how to respect someone’s privacy?!

They back off a bit startled at him zuke picks up a cloak that came off a mannequin from earlier and drapes it over her

Maysibelle readjusts it so the hood shrouds her face completely she grasps at the shards of her mask trying to put it back together

“can’t let them see can’t let them see can’t let them see”

W: okay what is wrong with-

Z: west don’t. Look i have no idea why you think those things. There’s nothing wrong with your emotions or the way you look

“How would you know? You’ve no experience of them.”

Z: yeah but do you either?

*voice quivers, but still remains emotionless not crying* I don’t remember my face. It’s been so long.”

W: how do you not-

Z: west. Just...why? Why not let yourself feel or show?

“I’m not allowed.”

Zuke moves towards her but she cuts him off

“Leave. I don’t need your pity.”

Z: that’s not what i-

“I said go.”

The two leave her ballroom and she calls out to them still gripping her mask pieces

“Remember to apologize. You owe her so much.”

Interlude

Z: that was super uncomfortable

Kliff appears

“What was uncomfortable?”

West goes to answer but zuke cuts him off

Z: the walk back, the fight was really exauhsting so it was uncomfortable wslk back

West gives he brother a loo and kliff shrugs

“Well good job getting another district. She was gonna beca hard one. Go get some rest we’ll take the last district tomorrow”

As the two leave to their rooms west talks

W: what was that back there?

Z: kliff keeps ignoring me when i mention how bad the nsr artists look and i dont know if you’ve noticed but i listened to some of maysibelle’s fans on the way back

W: and?

Z: they were praising her for staying “proper” during our fight, like they really do expect her to not show emotions and when i asked them about that thry say it’s what they expect of her how she’s always bern this way

Z: west there’s something really wrong with the nsr artists it’s like they’ve been... broken

W:... what did she mean by apologize

Z: it has to do with the last district.

Z: it’s nadia’s district.

This was a long one

Next one will be long too, mainly cause if the last fight with tatiana

I’ve really hurt mayday huh? :D

#nsr #no straight roads #nsr au #no straight roads au #no worshiped roads #nwr #nsr mayday #nsr zuke #nsr dk west

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oddcoupler222 · 4 years ago

Note

Do you have any book recs like yours and w. epic love scenes like yours?

I appreciate anything I’ve written being called epic in any way :)

I don’t really know if I could accurately compare any books I’ve read to my own but I do have some book recs that I adore! I’ll give you my top ten lesfics for some variety

- Behind the Green Curtain by Riley LaShea (my ultimate fave romance)

When Caton’s sleazy boss offers her a position as his wife’s personal assistant, she accepts the job with reservations, certain Jack Halston has ulterior motives. After meeting Jack’s wife Amelia, though, it’s Caton’s motivations that begin to unravel. As vicious as she is beautiful, Amelia threatens Caton’s position and her sense of decorum. As the attraction between the two women spirals into a torrid affair, Caton is drawn deeper into Jack and Amelia’s world of privilege and prestige, where everything is at stake and nothing is what it seems.

- All That Matters by Susan X Meagher

Life is going damned well for Blair Spencer. She's a very successful real estate agent, happily married to a man who encourages her to live the independent life she loves; and they're actively working to have a baby. The wrench in the works is that Blair favors adoption, while her husband David desperately wants to have a biological child. The fates are against them, and they finally seek the help of a group of reproductive specialists. One of the doctors, a surgeon named Kylie Mackenzie, eventually becomes a good friend to Blair. And she needs all of the friends she can get when things start to go horribly wrong at home. As her marriage teeters on the brink of collapse, she relies more and more on Kylie's friendship. Kylie's happily gay; Blair's happily straight. But the way they structure their relationship leads friends and family to privately question whether the pair is setting themselves up for heartache. They eventually come to a crossroads, which could either destroy their friendship or turn it into what each of them has been seeking. The question is whether each woman can change her view of herself and her needs. The answer is all that matters.

- Alone by EJ Noyes

Half a million dollars will be Celeste Thorne’s reward for spending four years of her life in total isolation. No faces. No voices. No way to leave.

Since Celeste has never really worried about being alone, the generous paycheck she’ll receive for her participation in the solitary psychological experiment seems like easy money.

When she finds an injured hiker in the woods bordering her living compound, her strictly governed world is thrown into disarray. But even as she struggles with the morality of breaking the rules of the experiment, Celeste can’t deny her growing attraction to the kind and enigmatic Olivia Soldano. Still, how much can you really trust a stranger? And how much can you trust yourself when you know all the faces you’ve seen and voices you’ve heard for the past three years have only been your imagination?

But what’s real? Celeste’s reality may lie somewhere between the absolute truth and a carefully constructed deception. (the concept of this is just INcredible. and the execution as well - perfect)

- The Goodmans by Clare Ashton

The lovely doctor Abby Hart lives in her dream cottage in the quintessential English border town of Ludbury, home to the Goodmans. Maggie Goodman, all fire and passion, is like another mother to her, amiable Richard a rock and 60s-child Celia is the grandmother she never had. But Abby has a secret. Best friend Jude Goodman is the love of her life, and very, very straight. Even if Jude had ever given a woman a second glance, there’d also be the small problem of Maggie – she would definitely not approve. But secrets have a habit of sneaking out, and Abby’s not the only one with something to hide. Life is just about to get very interesting for the Goodmans. Things are not what they used to be, but could they be even better? (there are not one but TWO perfectly written romances intertwined in this *chef kiss*)

- Pretending in Paradise by M Ullrich

When travelwisdom.com assigns PR specialist Caroline Beckett and travel blogger Emma Morgan to cover a hot new couples retreat, they're forced to fake a relationship to secure a reservation. Ten days in paradise would be a dream assignment, if only they'd stop arguing long enough to enjoy it. Reputations are Caroline's business. Too bad she was forced out of her previous job when an ex smeared hers all over the office grapevine. She's never getting involved with a coworker again, especially not one as careless and unprofessional as Emma. Emma knows that life is too short to play by the rules. But when she goes too far and a defamation lawsuit puts her job in jeopardy, she has to make nice with Caroline, the image police, and deliver the best story of her career.

Only pretending to be in love sure feels a whole lot like falling in love. When their story goes public, ambition and privacy collide, and their chance at making a fake relationship real might just be collateral damage. (there’s just SOMETHING about this that is super freaking cute)

- The Brutal Truth by Lee Winter

Australian crime reporter Maddie Grey is out of her depth in New York, miserable, and secretly drawn to her powerful, twice-married, media mogul boss, Elena Bartell, who eats failing newspapers for breakfast. As work takes them to Australia, Maddie is goaded into a brief, seemingly harmless bet with her enigmatic boss—where they have to tell the complete truth to each other. It backfires catastrophically.

A lesbian romance about the lies we tell ourselves.

- The Red Files by Lee Winter (kudos to her for being the only author that makes it to this list with two separate books)

Ambitious Daily Sentinel journalist Lauren King is chafing on LA’s vapid social circuit, reporting on glamorous A-list parties while sparring with her rival—the formidable, icy Catherine Ayers. Ayers is an ex-Washington political correspondent who suffered a humiliating fall from grace, and her acerbic, vicious tongue keeps everyone at bay. Everyone, that is, except knockabout Iowa girl King, who is undaunted, unimpressed and gives as good as she gets. One night a curious story unfolds before their eyes: One business launch, 34 prostitutes and a pallet of missing pink champagne. Can the warring pair work together to unravel an incredible story? This is a lesbian fiction with more than a few mysterious twists. (as someone who is usually pretty bored by any plot other than the romance, I actually enjoyed this mystery)

- Tricky Wisdom/Tricky Chances by Camryn Eyde

(for tricky wisdom) Darcy Wright is a closeted lesbian who has been infatuated with her best friend, Taylor, since junior high. Leaving her small northeast Minnesota town for Harvard in a quest to become a doctor, she moves in with med-student Olivia Boyd, a neurotic, anal, gigantic pain in the backside. The first year of juggling medical school is grueling, but it’s nothing compared to living with Olivia.

Coming out to her friends and family with an anti-climactic flop, Darcy uses her newly publicized sexuality to try and win Taylor’s affections through an ill-hatched scheme that crosses uncomfortable lines. The result is as unexpected to Darcy as Darcy’s affinity for medicine is to Olivia.

The first year of medical school is a nerve-wracking encounter in medicine, learning lessons the hard way, and finding what her heart desires.

Tricky Chances is the sequel to Wisdom, but it’s the only lesfic sequel that i truly felt added to the first one and was just as gripping! Plus, the first book is only 48k words so the followup is perfect to come right after

- Who’d Have Thought by G Benson

Top neurosurgeon Samantha Thomson needs to get married fast and is tightlipped as to why. And with over $200,000 on offer to tie the knot, no questions asked, cash-strapped ER nurse Hayden Pérez isn’t about to demand answers.

The deal is only for a year of marriage, but Hayden’s going into it knowing it will be a nightmare. Sam is complicated, rude, kind of cold, and someone Hayden barely tolerates at work, let alone wants to marry. The hardest part is that Hayden has to convince everyone around them that they’re madly in love and that racing down the aisle together is all they’ve ever wanted. What could possibly go wrong? (this book comes in 9th because i don’t love it QUITE as much as i do all the others, but it was the one that got me into lesfic so! it’s good stuff)

And in a guest pick from the only other voracious lesfic reader i know, @debbie-eagan -

Beautiful Dreamer by Melissa Brayden -

Philadelphia real estate broker Devyn Winters is at the peak of her career, closing multimillion-dollar deals and relishing it. She’s pretty much blocked out her formative years in Dreamer’s Bay, where the most exciting thing to happen was the twice a year bake sale. Unfortunately, a distress call hauls her back home and away from the life she’s constructed. Now the question is just how long until she can leave again? And when did boring Elizabeth Draper get so beautiful?

Elizabeth Draper loves people, free time, and a good cup of coffee in the warm sunlight. In the quaint town of Dreamer’s Bay, she’s the only employee of On the Spot, an odd jobs company. She remembers Devyn Winters as shallow in high school, but now everything about Devyn makes her lose focus. Though her brain knows Devyn is only home temporarily, her heart didn’t seem to get the memo (I’m personally not a huge Brayden fan but a lot of other lesfic readers are so I reached out for a second opinion on this matter)

I hope you enjoy!

#lesfic #book recs

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back-and-totheleft · 3 years ago

Text

"Hollywood rabble rouser"

Late one night in the summer of 2008, I found what turned out to be a stockbroker’s iPhone in the back of a NYC taxi. Turning it on in order to contact the owner, I noticed that amongst the stock watch apps and currency converters was an icon of Gordon Gekko, the corrupt market raider immortalized by Michael Douglas in Wall Street, Oliver Stone’s 1987 tale of insider trading and corporate excess. Intrigued, I hit Gekko’s pixilated face (it felt good) and a website flashed up with an entire transcription of his infamous “Greed is good” speech — one of Hollywood’s most iconic parables to the pursuit of unrestrained greed. Whoever owned the phone found those words as important as checking Facebook or texting his girlfriend. Gekko was his hero, his daily inspiration.

Watching back Wall Street a few weeks later as news of the Lehman Brothers collapse and global recession spread, it struck me that a whole generation of financiers must have grown up, like Charlie Sheen’s character Bud Fox, yearning to be Gekko. He was the business equivalent of a rapper wanting to become Tony Montana, another Stone creation. And some of these brokers, as we’ve all since discovered, were willing to trade money that didn’t exist in pursuit of pin stripe suits, corner offices, penthouses, boats, women, and stacks of cash. Perhaps the perks made the 22-year prison stretch Gekko received at the end of the film seem like a viable risk. Or they deliberately chose to ignore his downfall.

Inspired by financial fiends like Bernie Madoff, Stone decided to spring Gekko out of prison for Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. Set in 2008, he is a reformed character that tries, and fails, to warn business leaders of the impending credit crunch. Many fans are understandably nervous about Douglas reprising his Oscar winning role, especially since his hair gel and brick phone have long been put into storage. Stone, who only agreed to direct the film because he felt that current financial climate lent itself to a sequel, understandably feels that it’s time for bankers to grow up. As the director of Natural Born Killers, JFK and Platoon he’s used to Marmite reactions. But, after giving Dubya an easy ride in W, will Gordon 2.0 be one step too far? Is the world ready for goody Gekko two shoes? Or will traders across Wall Street be deleting their “Greed is good” iPhone bookmarks forever? As they say on the stock market floor, let the bull charge.

Tim Noakes: When you were 18 your father got you to work on a financial exchange in France. Was that your inspiration for Wall Street?

Oliver Stone: No, it was a great summer job actually, because it was very exotic. My father was always into the stock market, into numbers. He loved that world in New York and I grew up on the fringes of it but I wasn’t particularly attuned to it. So it was a chance to see it first hand but I didn’t do very well as a trader. In those days you’d run from the phone booth in the back to the floor. It was cocoa and sugar. It was violent and busy. They used to elbow each other to get into the inner circle, like matadors. It was a real crush. I elbowed my way through it and got up to be assistant buyer, which was very complicated because you had to make the orders for everything right. You couldn’t screw up. A lot of money’s involved. So then I thought I should be one of the cocoa buyers. I was a little too ambitious for my own good.

Your father died before you made Wall Street. What do you think he would have made of it?

I think he would have appreciated that I had done a business movie. We always talked about it. He loved movies and he took me to them. We discussed them afterwards, which was an invaluable experience, and he would say that there weren’t many business movies. And there weren’t. There was not a specific genre. Hollywood was not into the business movie concept. It’s hard. I can understand why. It’s all financial talk, it’s not interesting to most people and it lacks those human emotions. Money is an interesting subject, however, for America. That’s why I addressed it in 1987. I thought, ‘Americans love money’, and what lengths they will go to get it is what that movie is about. Especially coming off Platoon, which is a different kind of movie. I was trying to prove that I could do something domestic with ‘Wall Street’.

The original was very much of its era.

It was the era of “Greed is good” and Reagan. With Wall Street 2, I’m obviously more mature, I’ve done more films, I have more confidence, I hope. I’m trying something a little bit deeper in the relationship field. There’s no Darryl Hannah in the movie. There’s a real English girl this time (Carey Mulligan). She anchors strongly the emotions of the film, because she is damaged. She’s the daughter of Gordon Gekko, if you can imagine what that can be like.

Michael Douglas once said that your style of directing is like taking people into the trenches. What did he mean by that?

He makes it sound like I dress him up in uniform and have a military hierarchy. Every single actor that I’ve worked with, and there’s obviously dozens now, you’d have to talk to every single one of them to get their perception. I would say some would disagree. Maybe Michael, because he hasn’t been in the military, would regard it as a military experience. I didn’t think of it that way. I think of a movie as an organisation that has to work at a very fluid pace involving a large amount of people who have to move quickly over a landscape. Call that what you will. It could be an adventure party or a military organisation. It’s really a satellite business. You form, you group, you rehearse, you shoot, you separate. It’s very nomadic. In that chemistry you bring together so many conflicting types of people who have different kinds of egos. It’s quite a mix. At the end of the day, if you look back at the — what is it? 19, 20 films — that I’ve directed, it’s just a mix of styles. Sometimes it really works with people. It clicks. I think Michael did great work on both films, so I’m very pleased with his result. My style might not have been good for him, but it works for other people. Some people, like Shia LaBeouf and Josh Brolin, were digging it. They loved the way I worked because it was intense and to the point and relatively fast.

Do you see yourself as a hard taskmaster or a disciplinarian?

No, I’m not a disciplinarian. I’m disciplined with myself and I think I try to lead by example not by imposition of my will. I try to lead by example. That’s just to say that people know that I’m trying to get this thing done. My approach is that we’re all in this together. The idea is king. We all serve that king. It is not a democracy, it is a constitutional monarchy, so to speak, with strong legislative power in the House of Lords. No, but the idea is king. I repeat that. Not the director. The idea. I serve the idea.

How do you balance the logistics with trying to create a piece of art?

Oh boy, if I didn’t tell you I wasn’t humbled so many times, you would not believe it. It’s a very humbling experience to make a movie, because you’re at the mercy of the elements. Of the winds and the weather as well as conditions that can go wrong — disease, sickness, bad tempers. All sorts of stuff can happen. Given that nature, to pull off a movie is extremely difficult. The editing room is another humiliation. All your mistakes are thrown back in your face. No matter how many good choices you make, and making a movie involves thousands of choices, you’re constantly having to question yourself again. I find it a very difficult position. I don’t think I enjoy it. I think I’m more experienced at it but I don’t think I completely enjoy it. I think sometimes it’s so painful you want to scream bloody murder and run somewhere.

What’s the cut-off point? How do you stop?

How do you stop? A famous director once said that every film is abandoned, never finished.

So you just let it go?

Some people won’t but I do let it go. I’m not looking for perfection. I don’t believe in it. I believe that a film is many things to many people and it changes over time. I think you have to feel good about it and about what you did. It hangs together and it’s going to be a story that can move an audience. It’s so difficult to pull off quickly. It takes time.

The world’s moved on since Wall Street. Were you apprehensive about creating a sequel to such a well-loved film?

Apprehensions? No. I’d have had more apprehensions if I’d had to do it in 1990, I think. Twenty-three years is a long time to call it a sequel. I think of it more as a bookend.

Don’t you think that’s laying you open for even more criticism? Look at what George Lucas did with Star Wars..

We’re not going back into that period. The beauty of this thing is that there’s a new period upon us, which is quite different, technically. It’s a different kind of Wall Street. The landscape has changed. It’s no longer 1987. It’s really a computer game now. The money has accelerated at a square root that is beyond belief from millions to billions. Hedge funds invest 30–40 billion dollars. Even to have one billion dollars is an enormous amount of money. When you hear these guys say, “Oh, it’s just a billion dollar hedge fund” it’s unbelievable arrogance. The heights are dizzying, and the losses are dizzying. It’s just unbelievable what happened. By all accounts it was a near-fatal heart-attack.

Were you planning on revisiting Wall Street is the crisis hadn’t happened?

No, that was the catalyst for it. It wasn’t the only reason. It was a wonderful idea for a script, that Gekko would be a different type of person. That he would start from the outside. He didn’t have power or connections anymore. Time had passed. He was dated.

Is Michael Douglas in danger of becoming a pastiche of what made Gordon Gekko good?

I feared that. That’s why we approached it in a wholly different way. Michael is playing it twenty-two years older, he’s coming out of prison. Michael has changed in that interim. He was a charming rogue, certainly, in the Eighties. You saw a lot of that in his subsequent performances. You saw a lot of Gekko in later films, so I think it was smart to move away from that pastiche, as you call it, because it would have been boring after a while. There are flashes of the old Gekko, which I love, but it’s not like the charming reptile, so to speak. It’s a different man now. I’m not saying that he’s a wholly reformed figure looking for a martyrhood, but what’s interesting about him is what he’s going to do, and how he’s going to play the game to get back. He has suffered extensively in prison, his family has fallen apart, his oldest son has committed suicide. It’s very tough on him.

How did you persuade Michael to get back on board?

Frankly, I didn’t convince anybody. I passed on the script in 2006. It wasn’t important for me to make it. I felt, what was the need to make this movie if it was going to glorify the pigs on Wall Street? They were really making money and it was ugly. There was a spate of books too like The Wolf of Wall Street, which was a big hit and they are going to make a movie out of that. There was kind of a surfeit and there was sickliness to it all. I got turned off by it. I passed, and I moved on with my life, and I did W and World Trade Centre and stuff like that. Then there was this crash and the crash changed the equation I think, I hope.

Do you think the original message of Wall Street failed because young traders ended up idolising Gordon Gekko?

That’s a very good question. Frankly, I wondered at times. The original Wall Street came about because of my experiences on Scarface. I was living in New York and I was hanging out with the dealers and the mob. That whole scene in Miami was a very shocking thing in 1982–3. Wall Street, was like Scarface north. I was suddenly seeing people my age, in their twenties, making millions of dollars, so easily, so quickly. Moving inordinate amounts of money. Also, snorting and drinking. The partying scene had really kicked in big time in the 80s. It was all new to me, so that’s how that was born. Then it went to excess. But I was very clear that Gekko was the antagonist in the movie, but as you say a lot of young people caught on to him. I do think, and perhaps I’m retrograde, that although he was not feted at the time the anchor of the movie is Charlie Sheen.

But no-one wanted to be Bud Fox.

Well that’s the movies. They want to be heroes. They want to make money. I did meet a lot of people in their 40s that said, “When I saw your movie I was studying this-or-that at this-or-that school, I was going to do history or medicine or law but then I saw the movie and I moved to Wall Street for that reason.” The the kicker was that some of them were multi-millionaires, one of them was a billionaire, and they had moved to Wall Street because of the movie. I said, “Oh boy, I wish I had a royalty on that.” These guys are really rich.

I find that quite worrying.

I gave birth to some rich people. But some of them did good. Some of them created something. That was the whole point of the original. Not to shit on Wall Street but to basically say, ‘Look, this is an engine of capitalism’. This can work. My father always felt that Wall Street was a good thing. It creates companies, it finances new companies, creates research and development, and it does. It still does, by the way, it’s not forgotten but it’s been buried in the greater picture of making bigger profits and more greed, but it’s still there. Wall Street is a good thing. It was a good thing and it can be a good thing.

Throughout your career critics have said you shouldn’t glamourise the people you put on the big screen. Do you like to provoke that reaction?

No, I like to make bigger-than-life characters but ‘World Trade Centre’ is about two very ordinary men who were real heroes. On Bush I guess you could say I supped with the devil and brought out all the reasons I thought why people voted for the guy. There is this fundamental thing which Americans like in him, and I was trying to root that out and how he became President.

You were criticised for making Bush too likeable.

You can fault that, but he was re-elected. I didn’t like him. I was very clear — I empathised. Empathy means I walked in his shoes, or tried to. As opposed to sympathised. I don’t agree with anything he said. Anything. I think he was a disaster. It was a nightmare eight years.

Do you think you were too soft?

No. I wish I’d done it a year earlier and it would have been more timely. He was out of favour when it came out, because of the economy, but frankly the movie was about the national security state which concerned me more.

Why are you drawn to these anti-heroes?

They don’t do me any good. Nixon, too.

I see a lot of similarities between Tony Montana and Gordon Gekko. In Scarface, Tony says “You need people like me to point the finger at and say, ‘That’s the bad guy’”. Do you think film critics see you in that light?

I think you’re right. I think film critics have me as a punch ball. It’s an easy target, I guess. I’ve been misidentified with the characters, but I think over time you see that there’s a whole assortment of different characters. But I agree, I think that’s true and I think that’s hurt me. It’s hurt my career as well as some of the political statements I’ve made and positions I’ve taken in documentaries I’ve made. They’ve hurt me too and they’ve given me a profile that’s not necessarily me, it’s just a profile. Absolutely.

There’s been huge furor recently that you’re reported to be attempting to humanise Hitler, Stalin and Mao Zedong.

I think it’s out of context. I did use the word ‘scapegoat’ and I think that was an unfortunate word, but frankly it’s a very interesting history that we’re putting together. We’re using the facts that we have, that are known but have been forgotten. There’s no question that Hitler had a big hand up the ladder. He didn’t come out of nowhere. He is a Frankenstein, he is a monster and I have no sympathy for him, but he was created by a Dr Frankenstein. That Dr Frankenstein is a very interesting mixture and you have to study cause and effect to understand history, otherwise you don’t learn anything from it. It’s my fault because I’m interested in the world, and I’m willing to go out there. I’m not trying to provoke, I’m trying to look for the truth. I’m trying to shine a light. For Christ’s sake, I feel like we’ve become so politically correct that you can’t do shit anymore. You’re not supposed to turn around.

Do you feel like you sometimes exploit sensitive subjects too much? More than some people can take?

Well, that’s why I like the English. They’re much more out there and they’re willing to explore subjects that the Americans are not. Having been to war, having seen the devastation America visited onto Vietnam, I cannot just be another typical American and live in isolation. My taxes are going as we speak to blowing up people in Afghanistan. I don’t feel good about that.

Back to Wall Street. Gekko says “Every dream has its price”, what’s the biggest price you’ve paid to get to where you are?

I’d have to talk to my psychotherapist, who I haven’t seen in ages. I suppose the price is that you do have long absences from home and normal quotidian values, at times. Your children grow up and you have to readapt to the fact that you haven’t been the attentive father. That’s a big issue, but I have been as attentive as I can be in taking care of them. Still, there’s gaps there. Divorces have happened. Those things.

I see Wall Street as epitomising the ruthlessness of the Eighties. During that era did you find yourself being a slave to the success that you had earned?

Yeah, I suppose everybody can become a mental slave to the need to produce. Remember, I was on a roll in the sense that I had to get financing for very complicated movies. I felt like I had a mission. To get JFK made in that era was very tough, still. You need heat. To make that movie after The Doors you need to keep rolling. In a sense I worked very fast, and hard, but I knew that I could get things done. Nixon was sort of the end of the line. I was making movies all those years. Platoon was impossible to get made. So was Salvador. Every single fucking one. ‘The Doors’. They were always problems. There were always tremendous issues. You asked what the price is? The price was to keep going fast, before they change their mind. The idea was ‘Wrap it up, get another one done’. These are tough subject matters. With ‘Nixon’ I’d done eleven or ten, I was exhausted. Frankly, I needed to take a break.

What kept you moving on? Obviously the pressures that you’re talking about manifested in different ways. You had your drug problems earlier on, but how did it manifest when the financing started to crumble down? Did you resort to those kind of vices?

I think there’s other factors. There was a lot of living. A lot of pain. Children. Divorces. This and that. But I think I have been very successful. I got movies made that wouldn’t have been done in the normal radar. They were not on the scope.

In Wall Street 2 Shia LeBeouf says, “No matter how much money you make, you’ll never be rich”. With all your success, do you empathise with that sentiment?

Of course I do. I don’t think money is the solution to happiness. Life is complicated, but certainly money can have the opposite effect. It can make you unsatisfied with life, and make life harder for you. There are two effects of it. One is that it leaves you unsatisfied, you always want more, as we see from these billionaires. Two, it leaves you falsely content and over-satisfied.

And you’re not either?

I don’t feel that way, no. I feel like I’m one trade away from disaster.

The new film is called Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. What gets you off to sleep?

What gets me off to sleep? Sonata. Medication. I’m just joking. The best solution for sleep is having lived a full day and tried hard to live life fully. That makes you feel the reward of sleep.

-Tim Noakes, "The Hollywood rabble rouser sets his sights on a new generation of Wall Street wolves," Medium, Mar 3 2010 [x]

#medium #tim noakes #w.#wall street #wall street: money never sleeps #oliver stone

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steves-on-a-plane · 4 years ago

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The Royal We

Written for: @star-spangled-bingo 2021! Words: 1699 Square Filled: Modern Royalty AU Pairing: No Pairing, general fic. Cast of Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers w/ Reader Warnings: none. Summary: It’s Coronation day for Prince Steve and though Rumor’s circulate around the kingdom, and the tabloids, about he and Duchess!Reader, she has her eyes cast in another direction entirely.

“Ah, there she is, My absolute favorite Duchess!” Prince Steven Rogers greeted you with his most charming smile. There was a pair of foreign dignitaries in the receiving line just ahead of you. They turned to see who Steve was talking about. They smiled when they recognized you. It was no secret, thanks to the internet, that you and Steve were good friends. Many tabloids and Twitter accounts also suspected you may be more than that.

The truth was your father had been the most trusted confidant and Chief of Security to Steve’s father, the late king. Both your fathers had been killed on a plane crash when you were just thirteen. Since your father had died while performing his duties for the crown, Steve insisted you and your family be taken care of financially. He may have taken things a little too far by gifting you a Duchy for your eighteenth birthday. The rumors only snowballed from there.

Steve was a good friend, but you had no interest in him romantically. He was kind and honest which would make him a great King. He just wasn’t the kind of person you wanted in a partner. While Steve had his moments where he’d throw caution to the wind, he could also be stiff and reserved. The after effect of growing up on the public eye knowing he’d rule someday.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” You chastised him with a whisper. You dipped down into an elegant curtsy. “Especially since you’ll be King in a few hours. You know how they talk.”

“Let them talk.” Steve laughed. “If not us they’ll find something else to criticize me for. But I’d watch out for The Dragon if I were you.” He nodded his head slightly indicating somewhere behind you. You didn’t bother looking to see where, you knew who he was talking about, his fiancé.

Steve had been engaged since his tenth birthday to a very beautiful woman who seemed to truly love him and your kingdom. Though she was a princess from another smaller kingdom, she would often visit for extended periods of time. On her visits she did a lot of volunteer work and help with local beautification projects. Her special interests were conservation, helping orphaned children and hating you. Yes, the soon to be queen of Brueklin wanted you as far away from her fiancé as possible. Despite your best efforts to show her you had no interest in Steve, she seemed to believe her social media feed over you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be on my best behavior.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ve got to go find my table which is no doubt on the other side of the room in a nice dark corner. Give The Dragon my best.”

You curtsied again before exiting the reception line. A page slipped you a small card with your table number on it. You walked off to your assigned table and immediately recognized two of your tablemates and their security details. The other two thirds of what the press called The Royal Rogues and Steve’s other two best friends.

Duke James Barnes had inherited a sizable Brueklinian duchy when his father retired two years ago. He’d spent most of that time gambling and partying with his checkbook close at hand. He was dressed to the nines for the royal coronation. He was sporting a charcoal grey tuxedo, blue waist coat, a complimenting tie and a black silk shirt. He was leaning back in his chair so that it rocked on two legs. He grinned mischievous when he spotted you.

Prince Samuel Wilson was the heir of a kingdom so small it was hardly visible on most maps. He’d been training to broker peace treaties since he first met Steve and Bucky as teenagers. Sam was dressed in the ceremonial uniform of his country. Even in the far back corner of the room couldn’t dim the bright color of his crimson red waistcoat and tails. His white pants were crisp and clean, his boots shinier than ever. Sam never showed up to a royal event looking less than perfect.

Sam got to his feet as you approached. He welcomed you with a smile so earnest it nearly made your heart stop. He kissed you on the cheek, a familiar greeting shared among all royals in his country and pushed your chair in as you sat down. You’d never confess as much out loud, but it was Prince Sam your heart had set itself on.

“[Y/N], arriving fashionably late and decked out in Brueklinian Blue.” Bucky appraised your sapphire blue gown, drawing your attention away from Sam temporarily.

“I’m not late!” You gasped. “I’ve been waiting in that reception line forever. Still it’s nice to see you two relegated to the kids table too.”

“Yeah, the cool kids table.” Bucky smirked. He swirled the glass of wine in his hands for a few seconds before taking a drink. “No doubt this is the work of The Dragon.”

“Why do you guys call her that? Roxanne’s nothing but nice.” Sam shook his head.

“Oh, so she’s Roxanne?” Bucky laughed, he leaned forward so his chair was on all for legs. “Of course, she’s nice to you. You’re a Prince, if she offended you it could lead to an international incident. While [Y/N] and I are but a common Duke and Duchess.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” Sam shook his head. “The fact that she knows you both don’t like her has nothing to do with it.”

“Also, not to be that guy but you kind of have to be team Roxanne or Team [Y/N]. At least if the tabloids are to be believed.” Bucky shrugged.

“Don’t worry, I’m firmly on Team [Y/N],” Sam assured him. Which caused your cheeks to flush. “I’m just saying everyone knows that Steve values the opinions of you two more than anybody else’s. Make it easier on the guy and stop giving his future Queen such a hard time.”

“Ah, but you’re assuming she’s still our future Queen! There’s plenty of time for [Y/N] and Prince Charming to elope. True that once he’s crowned king it will be harder for him to leave the Dragon, but it could happen. Maybe his first act as King will be to disband the engagement. Wouldn’t that be something?” Bucky sighed hopefully. He sipped from his glass again.

“There’s no way he’d end that engagement.” You insisted. “It was practically his father’s dying wish to see the kingdoms united. There’s no way Steve would ever go back on a promise he made to his father.”

“Are all Brueklinians such downers or am I just lucky enough to be friends with the Kingdom’s two biggest pessimists?” Sam question. “I know it’s a coronation, but it’s still a party! Tell you want,” Sam quietly slapped a hand on the table before getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go get us some more drinks. When I come back, I want smiles on both your faces.” You watched Sam disappear from the ballroom to the garden outside where drinks were being served.

“Of course, Princess Roxanne made sure they got a front row seat to the action.” You looked to where Bucky nodded to see T’Challa, the King of Wakanda, and his sister Princess Shuri. Wakanda was Brueklin’s largest and most profitable ally.

“Keep your friends close and the money closer.” You commented.

“Speaking of money, how’s the Duchy doing?” Bucky asked, frowning at his now empty wine glass. “You know, rumor has it your ports need some serious upgrading. I’ve heard you’ve asked the crown for a sizable relief check.”

“Oh, did you hear that from a very reliable royal source?” You assuming he talked to Steve.

“Sorry Duchess, that information is classified.” Bucky smirked. “But you know my Duchy has plenty of money…”

“Are you proposing a loan? Because I imagine your interest rate is a lot less than the National Council.” You supposed.

“Actually, I’m proposing a lot more than a loan…” Bucky began to explain. He was interrupted by Sam who’d returned with your drinks. He placed a wine glass in front of Bucky and a cocktail in front of you.

“Sam, this drink seems very tropical and barely appropriate for a coronation.” You observed sniffing the coconut and pineapple frozen beverage Sam had ordered for you.

“It’s a Pina Colada. You couldn’t stop drinking them when we were on that Yatch to Paris.” He commented sipping from his whiskey glass.

“That was over a year ago!” You exclaimed. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

“Yeah well, it’s gonna be a long day, I figured you could use a pick me up.” Sam winked. “Now what did I miss?”

“We were just discussing some financial stuff. Boring.” Bucky shrugged. “Say [Y/N] could you do me a huge favor? Could you get me a glass of water from the bar? Like his Royal Highness says it’s going to be a long day. I’ve got to stay hydrated.”

“Sure. It’ll give me a chance to hide from The Dragon’s watchful gaze for a few.” You wandered off to the bar where Sam had just returned from. Bucky waited until you’d gone before looking to Sam.

“You know I think it’s about time [Y/N] upgraded from Duchess to something else.” He commented simply.

“Man, you’re still on this?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“You have to admit that Princess [Y/N] has a nice ring to it.” Bucky insisted. “Now we know Rogers is taken, but if only there was another Prince who was madly in love with her…” Sam laughed so loud he drew the attention of nearby tables.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a serious liability to your country?” Sam lowered his voice so that only his friend could hear him.

“Yeah. Lots of people actually, including you several times.” Bucky chuckled. “Now listen she’s going to be back soon so I need to know how many more years of sideways glances, giggles and little inside jokes you’re going to make me suffer through before you finally summon up the courage to ask [Y/N] to marry you or at least have a secret tryst?”

#ssb2021 #Star Spangled Bingo #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson Fan Fiction #Bucky Barnes Fan Fiction #Bucky Barnes FF #Sam Wilson FF #Sam Wilson Reader Insert #Bucky Barnes Reader Insert

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 4 years ago

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Full Moon Dance

Word Count: 2700+ (chapter 1) (chapter 2) [AO3 link]

Genre: Humor/Romance

Characters: Raven Branwen, Summer Rose, Qrow Branwen, Taiyang Xiao Long, Kite Branwen (OC, mentioned)

Pairing: Raven Branwen/Summer Rose

Summary: Misunderstanding what "taking a partner" is supposed to entail, Raven asks Summer to the Vytal Festival Dance.She did not expect that to become a gateway to facing her changing feelings for her teammates and her place at Beacon.

(I meant to have this posted for the free day of @rose-bird-week but missed the mark by a few days)

~0~

“Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone’s hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours.”

Vera Nazarian

~0~

Culture shock was a phrase that Raven had grown to truly detest by the end of her first year at Beacon. Navigating the obstacle course that was non-tribe society seemed to trip her and Qrow up at every turn, even as constantly helpful as Summer tried to be.

(Considering how funny Tai found them sometimes, she would hesitate to fully include him in the “helpful” category.)

When they’d gone back home to the tribe for their break, Kite had insisted on several nights where the three of them took dinner and drinks alone in her tent, so she could squeeze her twins for every last detail of their new school lives. Which Raven supposed she understood, coming from their leader who they’d never been apart from for so long, but she could have done without quite that much raucous laughter at their missteps.

But by the time they got into the swing of second year, Raven thought that they had fully gotten the hang of this whole “living in the real world” thing, as Qrow was given to calling it. So when on the way back from class she started to hear the strains of an animated conversation, she didn’t think she would need to ask about exactly what was being discussed.

“...what everyone does,” Tai was saying. “Just don’t think so hard about it!”

Their backs were to her as they walked in the direction of their dorm room, so she couldn’t see Qrow’s face. But she could see him slowly nodding, and could picture the look of deep contemplation that probably accompanied it. This must be serious business.

“But I’ve got no idea what to do! We don’t have these things in Anima!”

“...No offense, but you guys don’t really have that much in Anima, do you?”

“You’re just catching on to that? And, I mean, I guess we do, but it’s not like it’s a fun party. What’s even the point of this dance thing?”

Recognition sparked in Raven’s head. Of course it was that.

Her primary interest in the Vytal Festival was combat, of course. The two of them hadn’t effortlessly crushed all competition Beacon had to offer, all the time, the way she’d expected coming in. But it was close enough that they were hungering for new opponents to test their strength, as were their teammates, so the influx of new students coming in for the tournament had her very excited.

(Bloodthirsty, Qrow called the gleam in her eye, but she thought that was a bit too strong a word.)

She was determined not to make any more accidental friends — two was quite enough! — so the idea of wasting so much time fraternizing had not caught her interest at all. It was nothing like the occasional, informal bonfires of the Mistrali and Animan bandit tribes, where in the dark hours of uneasy peace, agreements and alliances could be brokered, and the future heirs of the kingdom’s underworld could get a feel for each other.

In any case, Qrow had not participated in one since he was thirteen and a large tree branch had fallen on Eiric Athdara while they’d been trying awkwardly to dance together. He’d blamed his Semblance and spent the next four years’ worth of bonfires sulking in the shadows, much to the confusion of everyone who had found him appealing and the exasperation of Kite. With all their positions here only temporary, Raven still wasn’t clear about the purpose of this event, and was interested in Tai’s explanation.

“Well, it’s fun!”

She resisted the urge to groan.

But she could hear the smile in Tai’s voice as he rambled on. “Remember that birthday party we threw you two? It’s even better than that, because nobody’s expecting anything of you, because you’re not the center of attention. You can do whatever you like—”

Oh, yeah? thought Raven with a quirked eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah?” leered Qrow, wagging his, and earning himself a punch in the shoulder from his partner.

“You know what I mean, Qrow, good gods. Anyway, it’s just about having fun. You don’t even have to know how to dance, or wear anything super fancy. The important part is the people you’re with.”

“Well, sure. But I don’t know if there’s anybody else I’d want to take with me. Though everyone else gets so upset when I say no, I oughta just say yes to the next one who asks. Let them tag along.”

Raven didn’t know why he sounded so despondent about it. Warning would-be suitors away with her ever-improving sword was something she’d been doing since her first weeks here without a second thought. She still wasn’t sure why their numbers had increased the closer this dance got, but it made no difference to her.

“Oh, come on, you don’t need to do that!” Tai threw his arm around Qrow’s shoulders, grinning. “You’re going to have a great partner to get you through it!”

Raven blinked. This was news to her. You were supposed to go with your partner? Making arrangements with someone else was some sort of exception? Well, this was just getting more confusing by the day, but she could work with it.

“That’ll be fine, then,” she said out loud, making the boys jump and whip around so fast they knocked their heads together doing it.

“Ow! Raven, what the hell?!” Qrow shouted, as if she personally had whacked him upside the head.

Tai looked only mildly surprised. “You should have said something if you wanted to join in.”

“No need,” Raven replied, with a small toss of her head. “I’ve already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

The three of them looked up towards a nearby staircase to see Summer trotting down it, looking interested in whatever fragments of conversation she’d heard.

Raven looked back at her curiously: if this was the custom around here, why hadn’t Summer said anything to her about it? She gathered that Summer too had been raised outside the kingdoms, from what little she was willing to say about her background, but she’d lived in Vale long enough to know about things like this. Well, no matter, she was making up for it now.

“Hey, Summer!” she called up. “You’re going to the dance with me, aren’t you?”

She hadn’t expected a simple question to make the hallway go silent, but it did. Summer blinked, staring open-mouthed at her for a long moment. Then her face lit up, and she let out an almost exhilarated laugh.

“Sure, of course I will!”

The delight in her voice startled Raven somewhat, but she recovered quickly. “All right, then.”

By now, she was used to being carried away on Summer’s zest for life. But Raven found the way she nearly flew down the rest of the stairs to grab both of Raven’s hands in hers, smiling so brightly, to be unusual even for her. Shouldn’t she have seen this coming? Or was Raven supposed to be the one to make the first move all along, for some reason, and Summer was just excited that she was finally getting with the program?

Being landed with her partner in the first place had been so damned convoluted that this might as well happen (and she hoped this wouldn’t also involve Summer falling on top of her head from an ungodly high place). Still, she wondered whether it really called for Summer nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’d just been told Solstice had come early.

“I’m so glad you told me when you did! I was going to just rent one of the basic white dresses, but now I know for sure we’re both going I’ll look for nicer ones — and I can do your hair! I’ll pick something out, just give me a little bit!”

With that, Summer disappeared back up the stairs in a flash of white cloak. Raven had a brief and blissful moment of thinking she had successfully navigated the situation, until she turned to see Tai and Qrow’s jaws both nearly on the floor.

“What?”

“W-Well...” Tai was the first to find his voice again. “We just...didn’t expect you to ask her out, out of the blue, is all.”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Why not? Aren’t you supposed to go to this thing with your partner?”

Both boys’ mouths became perfect O’s of realization. They looked at each other, and then back at her.

“Oh,” said Qrow. “Uh, Raven, we should probably talk about something...”

~0~

There was no way she could let Kite hear about this.

Raven didn’t think her cheeks would ever stop burning. Not even the cooling late afternoon air helped. At least nobody could easily spot her here.

Usually, when she screwed up some Valerian social norm or another, she was able to either brush it off or bluff well enough that it didn’t look like a screwup at all. And even if neither of those worked, she was much better at intimidating people into silence about it than her brother. Absolutely none of those methods would work here.

Logically, she knew that Summer wasn’t the petty or easily embarrassed type. Still, the thought of finding her and admitting to her mistake...gods, how could she have been so dumb? She didn’t want to imagine the disappointment on Summer’s face the next time she—

“Raven! Hey, Raven? Could, uh...could I come up there with you?”

Raven startled, and glanced down to see Summer hanging out over the windowsill, peering up at her. Perhaps the tree directly outside their dorm room hadn’t been the best place to flee to if she wanted to remain undiscovered.

“...Sure. If you can climb.”

Uncannily squirrel-like, Summer hopped out the window onto the trunk, and scurried up several feet of tree to reach the branch that Raven had taken up residence on. Scooting over slightly to give her room to sit, Raven noticed that she wasn’t just eager to help: she looked a little abashed as well, a look that only became more pronounced in the short silence that followed.

“So...” Summer rubbed the back of her head, mussing her braids. “I talked to Tai and Qrow and I...think I owe you an apology.”

“You do? Why?”

“Well, I misunderstood. I made a bunch of assumptions and...” Summer gestured to the branches around them. “Scared you up a tree.”

“Hmph. Scared is a bit of a strong word, don’t you think?”

“I guess. But still: I’m sorry I put you in that position.”

Raven sighed. “I was the one who acted without thinking. You don’t have to worry about it.”

To her relief, Summer didn’t look to be worried anymore...but she did look thoughtful. “So...what would you have done if you’d asked and I didn’t want to go with you? Hypothetically, I mean?”

It did not take Raven long to hit upon the answer. “Hid somewhere better than this and avoided you until it was all over.”

Summer laughed, but Raven wondered if that was concern in her eyes. “You know that’s not a very good way to handle your feelings, right?”

“Well, it’s best to go with your gut on these things,” Raven huffed. “Honestly, I’d rather just skip all this dance nonsense and get to the part where we thrash everyone else in the arena. No messing around, just winning.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t that be great!”

She had expected Summer to agree with her: she wasn’t fiercely competitive like her or Tai, but everybody liked to win. However, by now she knew her partner well enough to tell that, though her smile was impeccable, her response was just a bit too enthusiastic to be honest.

Determined not to miss anything this time, Raven spent a long moment studying the other girl’s face, replaying their conversation in her head to — hey, wait a minute.

Summer blinked. “Raven? Why are you looking at me all suspicious?”

“...Before, when you said ‘hypothetically,’ how did you mean it? As in, hypothetically, what would I have done...or if you hypothetically didn’t want to go?”

“I...well...the second one,” she murmured.

Ah. She’d been so worried about her own stung pride that she had forgotten all about how excited Summer had been. So that was that.

“I mean, of course you can still go. I’m not going to stop you.”

“I was always planning on it. I’ve never been to anything like this before, either. But...” Raven very nearly jumped when she felt Summer’s hand slide on top of hers, her palm so soft it always surprised her. “I was really hoping we could go together.”

“Like as a team, or...?”

Summer didn’t laugh, just gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “With you.”

Oh.

All of a sudden the shapes of the clouds in the distance were very, very interesting.

“You...you like to dance, then?”

“My parents used to. My dad, especially.” The smile in Summer’s voice was wholly genuine this time, if wistful with nostalgia. “He’d always coax my father into it, outside when the moon was full. My father would grumble about it, pretend he wasn’t sappy enough to love it. But he was, every time. I could tell.”

Raven wasn’t sure what was making the hair on the back of her neck stand up: Summer’s thumb idly rubbing against her hand, the strangely melodic tone of her voice, or the vague and discomfiting sense, that hit every time Summer let them hear something about her life before Beacon, that she was close to a secret.

All any of them really knew about it was that Summer had once had fathers, and now did not. Raven of all people didn’t want to instigate any digging into their team’s secrets. Kite wasn’t her mother, but for these purposes...

“My mom didn’t do any of that stuff. I don’t know how to dance, either.”

“We can learn together, then.”

Wow, those clouds. Definitely more deserving of attention than her rapidly pounding heart.

“Raven? Would you like that?”

For a good few moments, Raven wasn’t sure she would be able to answer. When she finally did, it was in a voice much lower and quieter than she had expected. At least it was steady.

“...Yes. Yeah, I think I would.”

“Then we will. I promise.”

She nearly fell backwards off the tree branch, when she felt the feather-light touch of Summer’s lips on her cheek. They were only there for the most fleeting of seconds, making her almost wonder if she’d been wrong...but no, she couldn’t possibly mistake it for anything else, and finally turned to stare at her partner.

Color. When Raven looked back on this moment years, even decades later, it would be all of its colors that lingered the most in her memory. The faint pink that painted Summer’s cheeks, the softer shade of her lips. The perfectly clear blue sky behind her head, that made the deep red ends of her hair stand out like fire against it. And the silver moonlight of her eyes — it occurred to Raven for the first time that she had never seen anything quite like them — that shone just as brightly as her smile.

Something twisted in her chest, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. She felt sure that Kite would smirk at it, though.

Remember what you’re here for, Raven, she would remind her. She’s not really your partner. She’s your victim.

Normally, she submitted to the voice of her leader, like any loyal Branwen. Today...she did not push it aside, exactly. But she could wait a little while to heed it, and push her luck just a bit more today.

“On second thought...I’d be honored to escort you, Summer,” she said, lifting her head a little higher and affecting the tone that Kite took with other tribe leaders. “So long as you can promise you won’t let me make such a fool of myself again.”

Summer giggled, clearly relieved. “I promise that too! I’ll make sure of it.”

“You know, with Tai and Qrow there to soak up all the attention, that’ll probably be easier than you think.”

“Well, maybe. Let’s give them some credit. And I can’t promise that you won’t get any attention. I still get to take you dress shopping and do your hair, don’t I?”

“...You keep saying that,” Raven said dubiously, “but when you say do...what exactly are you picturing?”

“One day...” Summer reached out again and ran her fingers through the back of Raven’s hair, where they promptly got stuck around the middle of her neck. “One day this won’t happen.”

She tugged a little to emphasize the point, but not hard enough to hurt. Raven was certainly in no hurry to have her remove her hand.

“Actually, if you want, we could climb down and start trying stuff out now. See what styles you like?”

“Sure. Just...not right now.” The breeze was blowing gently in their faces, and Raven couldn’t quite place the scent that it carried to them, only that it was clean and sweet and she liked it. “Mind if we hang out up here for a while? It’s nice out.”

In answer, Summer leaned over and rested her head on Raven’s shoulder. “Yeah. It is.”

The birds had flown off, and the clouds thinned out, leaving only the perfect sky behind. Raven couldn’t seem to remember the last time she’d felt so very relaxed. Had she really been so furious with herself just a few minutes ago?

This really was good. She found herself wanting more. Perhaps this dance was something to look forward to after all.

#rosebird #raven branwen #summer rose #taiyang xiao long #qrow branwen #rwby #team strq #kaen's fics

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artificiallyimplantedmemories · 4 years ago

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[ ep 6 liveblog/commentary under the cut (finally) ... so many screenshots inside. I’m not sorry? ]

this is fairly stream of consciousness as I was watching in between bouts of tutoring so it’s less Massive Thinky Thoughts than usual, but w/e, it’s a commentary!

They said no fly zone and I was immediately concerned. If Sam goes out there with the wings, I hope he doesn’t get shot at. On the flip side, Bucky just “Sergeant Barnes” his way in, huh?

I appreciate them using the holo-face tech again so it’s not a throwaway, but also having those makes everything so messy. In the meantime though look at this pause face XD

WHEN CAP SLINGS HIS MIGHTY SHIIIIEEELD

“I thought Captain America was on the moon.” Who spread this rumor widely enough for members of the GRC to believe it?? lmao

“A baguette and a few French fries.” Sam’s sass will never stop being top tier. Also I love that both Caps get to fight Batroc. Yay parallels!

“You don’t think I’ve ever fought for something bigger than myself? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, and I’ve failed twice.” Ow. Bucky, you’ve kept Steve safe all throughout WWII, you’ve been part of the fight with Thanos and helped the Avengers win, you’ve fought your own mind for the greater good, healed the damage and the trigger words in order not to become a weapon against people, stop thinking of your failures ;_; (I say as my Nat muse shrugs sympathetically in my head)

Bucky showing off the same compassion as Sam with Karli? <chef’s kiss> Bucky on a motorcycle again? <double chef’s kiss>

Sharon I see you with that trick. We stan a smart woman!! Not gonna lie I did think it was a tracker at first though. Ruthless. Way more ruthless than Sam would approve of...

I’m not gonna lie, seeing the difference in fighting style between Steve and Sam with the shield is just so fun? Sam gets to work far more in three dimensions, he uses the repulsors and the wings and the shield all in tandem. It’s like seeing a cross between Steve and Tony in some ways, but with the added acrobatics. It’s cool!

Seeing Karli’s supporters starting to question her and her extremism is rewarding. I’ve known multiple people who have come from backgrounds that were pretty close to brainwashing that have slowly broken out of it over time, either due to seeing how twisted things were towards the top or increased exposure to people who weren’t part of their (forcibly) exclusive group. It’s a hell of a wake up call. And that extremism continues for Karli, setting the truck on fire. How much are her friends following out of genuine commitment vs out of obligation vs out of fear?

Walker’s “you don’t think Lemar’s life mattered” is the realest anger from him that I’ve been able to identify yet. At least if he’s fighting them, Bucky’s getting a chance to save the hostages.

“Boy you just earned this ass-whoopin’!” XD XD XD

And there we have the contrast: John continuing to fight single-mindedly instead of giving a damn about the people trapped and burning to death. He doesn’t always think those lives matter. The parallels with Karli build. And of course she’s getting her ass kicked to some extent because Walker is a trained fighter, she’s far more someone working on instinct. But good on him for trying at the last minute to save them anyway.

We knew Sam was gonna save the day but damn it feels good to see it!! I love the concept of him with his human strength augmented only by the tech he wears (like Tony!) wearing the wings of an angel, saving people with superhuman compassion and a brain that lights up like the fourth of July. That’s our new Cap, folks, the one that we needed.

Bucky’s smile in response I’m !!

BUCKY’S MURDERFACE WHEN KARLI THROWS THE ROD !!!

Sam knocking out five people with the shield, you work them angles, babe !!!!!!!

Is it Sharon backstory time? It sure fuckin’ is!! Holy shit she’s got so much more invested in this fight than a pardon, and her face here is just so genuinely hurt?? Ow. But also cool the Power Broker theory was true. Honestly props to her for rising to the top and finding a way to keep tabs on the whole world while legit exiled. That said, she’s got to have done some incredibly problematic shit to get there so we’ll see what shakes down from that.

LOOK AT HER FACE

Aw fuck of course she’s been shot. Gonna skin someone if she doesn’t make it, but given how they had her moving after, she should be fine. People in the MCU have come back from far worse lol

THE CRUX OF THE SHOW RIGHT HERE. SAM WILSON EVERYONE.

If this murderball wasn’t the antagonist, Nat would be cheering her on, look at how fierce!

But also Sam ;_;

Okay, feels aside, check out the way that when the shield gets punched, Sam instinctively pre-empts being shoved back by deploying his wings, digging them into the ground to reinforce his stance. You can see here that he’s got it tripod style behind him, knees bent to absorb the shock and keep him balanced but flexible while he takes the blow. Whoever planned and choreographed this knew their shit. This here martial artist approves!

“Stay down!” “No.”

“Lincoln, really?” “Great man, great quote.” “Not when you say it.” Pfffft.

Karli’s desperation for Sam to fight back is such a poignant note here despite the hoarse yelling, because it speaks to her need for validation, the need to believe that she’s fighting for the right reason, that the people opposing her deserve to be hurt. But if he doesn’t fight despite everything, then he’s simply not allowing her that vindication, and she has no choice but to question whether it’s right to fight him. Innocents being harmed? She can do that in an abstract way. She’s not punching or shooting them, they just happen to be there and in the way of the explosion. The GRC members? Not innocent because they’re directly taking away her ability to further her cause via passed resolutions and inadequately distributed resources. Sam is neither of those. He’s clearly fighting alongside those who oppose her, but refuses to actually fight her despite his ability to. He’s someone she can’t resolve with her ideas of the world and it’s devastating her. Even as she’s got her gun trained on him, she looks lost and has to fight to regain the nerve to shoot.

Thank you Sharon. It’s possible he could have pulled something out of the hat last minute (he did have his wings after all), and the look Sam gives her is slightly disbelieving, but I think a lot of the grief here is the fact that she’s so young and her cause has roots in a genuine problem that’s not being resolved and is impacting literally half the population of the world. Sharon looks so relieved, and it must hurt to see her protege die especially at her own hand, but she’s never been one to pull her punches (or her bullets).

How long do you think this death is going to haunt him? (Can anyone say ��his whole life”?) (Also La Pieta vibes)

AN ACTUAL ANGEL oh, he lands so gently, looks so solemn, puts her on a stretcher to try to save her T_T

Sorry I totally broke the mood and laughed at “or is it Captain Falcon” because I’ve played too much SSBBM early in my life oops. Just imagine Sam as this guy, yelling “FALCON PUNCH” dsfkjgsdjfh

Okay, I’m so glad that Sam is broaching this topic in public (despite the fact that you know they’d try to move it to a private discussion immediately in real life), and that he’s trying to make people understand the struggle and make more compassionate decisions. What I found highly interesting in the cinematography here is that:

1) They pan back to Bucky occasionally to show him thoughtfully listening, not interrupting, and maybe it’s important that this be an example to follow for people who are non-minorities when a member of a minority is talking about their struggle, and

2) when he says “Every time I pick this up, I know millions of people are going to hate me for it.” they cut immediately to a close up of John Walker…

And he looks down, guilty. Maybe that’s a sign of self-recognition. Maybe there’s hope for a change. (I wouldn’t hold my breath for it though.)

Oh hell the look on Isaiah’s face. Did I cry? A little.

Bucky’s starting to smile just the teeniest bit but you know who’s also smiling? TORRES. HI BABY BOY!

Empathy, empathy, empathy. The power of the people, the power of the government, the power imbalances that make the world the way it is. Sam. Wilson. GOD I love him. Thank you, thank you.

Bucky trying to play it cool. You dumb butt XD Look at their dumb faces aaa

Ahh, Sharon. Told you she’d be fine. Just needs to see an illicit doc or something. She probably has twenty of them lined up.

I SEE YOU THEME MUSIC

Oh D: That’s… no… why death, no.

Of course Zemo is smiling, he probably arranged for the Super Soldier deaths. OR VALENTINA hello I forgot about you. Oh, US Agent outfit, proper. He’s acting like a little child with it, go figure ^^; Still haven’t figured out Valentina’s motives, I’m curious.

Aw hi Yori. Bucky being honest and making proper amends is gonna make me tear up again. But also: “by the Winter Soldier… and that was me.” WAS. WAS. THIS IS PROGRESS. “I didn’t have a choice.” P R O G R E S S. EVERY NAME CROSSED OUT. P R O G R E S S !

Sam & Isaiah. I’m so proud of them. “You’re special.” DAMN RIGHT!! Gosh I love them I love them I love them.

“I might fail. Shit, I might die. But we built this country. Bled for it. I’m not gonna let anybody tell me I can’t fight for it. Not after what everybody before me went through. Including you.”

CATCH ME TEARING UP AGAIN. They got him a memorial!

Ahhh a party! Sam smiling! Bucky roughhousing with the kids! HAPPINESS ;A;

“Welcome home Agent Carter.” Hmm this doesn’t seem like the best… ah, yep. Saw that one coming XD Look at that boss face though yow!!

Also I’m hoping we get to see her at Peak Manipulative doing Cool Things in an Ends Justify The Means fashion because how dare that be reserved for men in superhero shows/movies? We love to see a woman about to deliver a smackdown.

closing thoughts: Lots of plot movement and action in this round, and finally an episode that was centered properly around Sam and the impact he has on the world. We saw an acknowledgement of real world struggles, steps taken to avert extremists but also steps taken to fix the core issue at the end. We see Sam saying you don’t want Karli 2.0 which reinforces the power of violent protest in otherwise peaceful movements and the fact that it’s listened to. We see a reclaiming of dignity, of owning one’s own power, of facing one’s fears and healing. We have an appropriate cliffhanger. Nothing in this episode was wildly surprising (though I though it was interesting that they went with moving the people out of the building, presumably to allow Sam greater flexibility to soar around and look cool, and also to buy them time so they didn’t get gunned down lol). On the other hand, there was nothing that I found needed to be surprising. It was a solid episode and I enjoyed it, and the resolution especially with Isaiah made me really happy. I’m eager to see what’s in store for Sharon, what Val and John are planning, and all the other shenanigans to come.

#onyx watches fatws #fatws spoilers

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incorrectprodigalsonquotes · 5 years ago

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A Festival of Brightness

Finally getting to one of the fic requests I was sent. Thank you to @jimhalpertcanbuymelove for sending this request in and letting me turn it into a Brightwell fic.

And an extra special thank you to @s4karuna for co-writing this with me, it was so much fun and we hope you enjoy what we wrote!

Chapter 1

Friday night dinners.

Ever since Malcolm returned to New York, every Friday night was dedicated to dinner with Ainsley and his mother. Jessica had insisted on it.

I gave birth to you both, she had said airily, though it was easy for Malcolm to hear the steel of a Milton matriarch in her voice. His FBI training was still no match for someone who could engage in psychological warfare with high society, metaphorically ripping off pearl necklaces with elegant words while on her third glass of gin.

Twenty hours of labour for Malcolm’s big head alone. Don’t I at least deserve a little of your time?

Malcolm and Ainsley weren’t exactly fans of their mandatory dinners, but neither of them could deny their mother this one thing. Besides, it wasn’t like either of them had anything better to do on a Friday night. Ainsley would either binge watch The Great British Bakeoff and bemoan her nonexistent culinary skills or stay up all night editing news footage with unfashionable raccoon eyes. And Malcolm? Frankly, it was best left unanswered.

But what started out as little more than an obligation to their mother gradually became tolerable, even enjoyable on occasion. Malcolm suspected that shared trauma might have played a hand in it, but he wasn’t going to go there. Possibly ever.

At the moment, Jessica was still chatting about the menu she had planned for their annual family Christmas dinner, waving around a forkful of seared scallops as the siblings covertly exchanged amused looks. Neither of them were paying much attention, used to their mother’s little complaints and anecdotes.

“And I would love to set up more than our usual three place setting for our little family dinners.” Jessica suddenly added, her manner nonchalant. “Maybe even set up a high chair or two by this time next year.”

Malcolm choked on his vichyssoise when he noticed his mother’s pointed look. That glint in her eyes was something he was far too familiar with. Jessica Whitly was out to get something by hook or by crook.

“W-what?” He sputtered, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Please tell me you don’t mean--”

“I’m just saying, I would like to hear the pitter-patter of little feet running around again.”

“Mother!” Malcolm shot a glare at Ainsley, who wasn’t even trying to hold back her laughter. “At least wait until I’m not at risk of choking on cold soup.”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger, Malcolm.” Jessica made a half wistful face. “I was honestly expecting to have grandchildren by now.”

“Mother,” Malcolm grimaced painfully, his voice still strained and sounding a little too much like a whiny five year old, “Aren’t I a little young to be thinking about that? I have all the time in the world to start a family if I wanted to.”

Jessica raised an elegant eyebrow, and Malcolm instantly knew it was futile. Once Jessica Whitly got going, there was hardly anything that could stop her from steamrolling everything in her path. It was better to wait her out.

“Well, it’s either you or Ainsley and your sister is much too wrapped up in her career for that.”

Ainsley preened smugly, sticking her tongue out at Malcolm the second Jessica looked away. Malcolm just raised an eyebrow at both of them with an exasperated huff, looking a little worn out. Jessica visibly softened, placing a loving hand on her son’s.

“Listen, I know your prospects at love have been…" She twisted her mouth as she searched for the right word, "Unlucky in the past. But as your mother, I just want to see you happy. I know many potential ladies who I’m sure would love to be acquainted with you.”

Malcolm gave a wry grin, shaking his head as he took his hand back. “No offense, but after the last time you tried to set me up, I’m better off trying to find a date on my own.”

He missed the flash of satisfaction on Jessica’s face.

“So do that.”

Malcolm did a double take, glass blue eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Find a date.” Jessica repeated as she took a quick bite of scallop, her lipstick still pristine. “You already know I’m planning a gala for New Year’s Eve and not only would I like you to attend this year, but I want you to bring a plus one.”

“But Mother--”

“No buts, young man.”

Her voice brokered no room for discussion. Neither Malcolm or Ainsley could win against her when she took that tone.

“If you want to prove to me that you can find a date on your own, then go find one. Just so long as she’s a respectable woman,” she added in afterthought.

Malcolm sighed heavily. He could already feel a migraine building up.

“Ains, can you--”

“Sorry, Malcolm.”

Ainsley was enjoying this a little too much as she looked back and forth between her mother and brother as if she was watching a tennis match, grinning like a Chesire cat. All that was missing from this image was an extra large bowl of her favourite truffle popcorn.

“But it’s Mom’s party,” she said in mock disappointment. “If she says you should find a date for New Year’s, find a date for New Year’s.”

“Real helpful.”

Malcolm narrowed his eyes at his sister, unamused at how entertained she was. She’d probably be filming the whole thing if she could, but at least he didn’t see her phone anywhere near her.

He really didn’t need a repeat of Ainsley showing the video of him trying to serenade Sunshine while high on painkillers to Dani. Or anyone else on the team for that matter.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Malcolm grew listless as he sat on the edge of the table, untouched Earl Grey tea in hand as he kept dunking the teabag in over and over again. He should’ve been in front of the board completing his profile of the killer, but good old executive dysfunction was hitting him hard this time. He kept trying to focus on the case at hand, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how he was going to find a date for New Year’s Eve.

“Bright?”

Malcolm snapped his head up, suddenly dropping the tea bag string he had been playing with. Dani was cradling her own mug of Earl Grey, looking at him with bemusement as she sat down next to him.

“You okay? You’ve been pretty quiet. It’s a bit concerning considering it’s you.”

Not for the first time, Malcolm thought that Dani had great potential to be a profiler herself. It was remarkable how observant she was.

“It’s just…" he trailed off with a wry grin, "Sad little rich boy problems, mostly. It’s nothing.”

Dani wrinkled her nose in thought.

“So you’re having mommy issues?”

Malcolm nearly dropped his mug at her blunt words, but when he saw a beaming grin spread across her face with a rare spark of mischief in her eyes, he couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter in response.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. My mother is just…” He ran a hand down his face with a groan, “meddling in my life yet again. It can be a little grating, quite frankly.”

Dani bit her lip as her thoughts turned to her parents. “I can understand that.”

Malcolm looked at her in surprise. “You can?”

For Dani to talk about herself was rare enough as it is. He unconsciously inched to the edge of his seat in anticipation as she nodded after a sip of tea.

“Yeah, parents can be overbearing at times. And this is coming from someone who grew up with two sets of Jewish parents from different continents."

Malcolm couldn't help but chuckle as he tried to imagine what kind of people raised someone as perceptive and tenacious as Dani.

"At least in my case, I know that it’s because they have my best interests at heart.” Her face softened with nostalgia as she shot Malcolm a smile. “I’ve only met your mother a few times, but from what I've seen, she meddles because it's her way of making sure you're okay.”

Malcolm raised an eyebrow at her as he finally drank his lukewarm tea. She held up a hand in defense, a corner of her mouth curled up into an almost smile.

“Well, I never said the caring cancels out the meddling. I've never seen a WASP outrival a Jewish mother like her.”

Malcolm couldn't hold back a guffaw.

“I'm sure Mother would be flattered,” he chuckled with a shake of his head, “But I still have to figure out how I’m gonna get through Christmas dinner this time.”

Dani glanced at him as she bit her lip in thought.

“Well, this probably won’t prevent you from having to go to your dinner...”

Malcolm leaned forward in curiosity as he waited for Dani to continue.

"My mom’s having a party for the first night of Hanukkah tomorrow. Do you wanna come with me?”

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

The first word that came to mind when Malcolm thought of Dani was unflappable. She was like a pancake stuck to the griddle, nothing could shake her. And yet he could easily spot the signs. The distracting way she kept biting her lip. How she constantly fiddled with the little blue Star of David necklace nestled in the hollow of her throat. She was… anxious?

What could be making her act like that? Malcolm’s mind practically raced at the numerous possibilities.

“Hey Bright?" Dani turned to him as they hiked up to her mother's snow covered driveway, her cold hands shoved deep in the pockets of her indigo winter coat. "Listen, there’s something you should probably know before we go inside.”

He gazed at her thoughtfully after noticing the apprehensive look on her face, his curiosity rearing its head as he saw her bite her lip again.

“What is it?”

Dani hummed briefly, not sure how to explain. She hadn't exactly been forthcoming about her life outside of work for two very big reasons.

“I have kind of a big family so there's going to be a lot of people and a lot more noise. I love them, but...”

She trailed off with a chuckle as he watched her breath rise in the cold in gentle puffs, snow dotting her hair like stars.

"They’re a lot. My mom and my sisters, they're nosy and have no sense of personal space and they're going to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions. So it's okay if you need to tap out for a minute or--"

"Dani," Malcolm interjected in amusement, "you're starting to sound like me with all that rambling."

He couldn't hold back a smile. It was rare for her to get even remotely flustered. It was adorable, the way her cheeks grew dark with embarrassment and how her doe like eyes kept glancing at him to see if he was alright.

"Don't worry so much. If they're anything like you, I'm sure they're amazing."

Dani sighed with relief, her face relaxing back into a smile again. She knew he was right. He was finally going to meet her obnoxiously affectionate and offbeat family, only…

He was still missing one crucial piece of information.

"Bright…" she started, apprehension mounting higher as they approached the front porch bedecked with blue and white lights. "There's also one more thing that I haven't actually told you. And it's kind of a big thing."

She had been braced for him to turn that profiler gaze on her, for those pale, glassy eyes to stare deeper into her for what she kept locked away. But Malcolm didn’t go off in another speculative ramble or even start pointing out her odd behaviour. He simply tilted his head to the side and with those wide eyes, Dani was oddly reminded of a confused puppy.

"What is it?"

"You're not gonna try to profile me?" Dani raised an eyebrow in disbelief, not noticing the tension leaving her shoulders.

He shrugged a shoulder, his eyes slightly mournful at how guarded she had seemed just now. The details might have been a little fuzzy, but he could still remember Dani, tired and vulnerable as she opened up about her trust issues the night she babysat his high-as-a-kite self.

She didn’t need him prying into what made Dani Powell tick. Not when she wasn’t ready.

"I get the feeling that this is something really personal."

So, he was capable of turning it off. She let out a grateful smile in return.

"Well--"

"Danys Eliana Powell!" A voice called in amusement from the front porch, startling them from their peaceful little bubble. "Are you ever going to come inside?"

“Danys?” Malcolm nearly bubbled over giggling, looking at Dani with glee.

"Yes, Dani is short for Danys. Grow up, Bright."

Malcolm shook his head, his nose scrunched up and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes became more prominent.

"It's just not what I thought Dani would be short for. I was kind of expecting Danika or Danielle.”

“Thank my grandmother for that. She and my dad came here from Port au Prince back in the 70s. Dad changed the family name from Poirot and I can hear you smirking, Bright, cut it out!”

Malcolm danced out of the way, nearly doubled over with laughter before Dani could smack him so she settled for shooting him an unimpressed look.

“I’m sorry! At least now I know that detective work is in your blood. Do you have family from Liège Province or a fastidious great-great-uncle, perhaps?”

“Real mature, Bright.”

She rolled her eyes, but the way Malcolm beamed at her like sunshine during a snowstorm made him look a little younger, a little lighter hearted and Dani for all her bluster couldn’t stay mad at him.

“At least Granmè insisted on giving us traditional names--oof! Imma, I need to breathe here.”

Dani was immediately enveloped in a rib aching bear hug the second they walked up to the front door by a statuesque woman with a regal nose and wide-set blue-green eyes and Malcolm could easily spot echoes of Dani’s dark, springy curls and delicate jawline. The older woman's eyes lit up as she spotted Malcolm after finally releasing Dani from the loving embrace.

"You must be Dani's friend! I'm Zipporah."

"Bright." Dani smiled as she gestured for him to come closer. "This is my mother."

"Malcolm Bright. It's lovely to meet you,” he offered a polite smile as he held out his hand. His tremor wasn’t acting up for once and he’d never been so glad that his mother signed him up for etiquette classes as a child. “Thanks for inviting me to your home."

"Oh, none of that,” Zipporah waved him off, still beaming with excitement.

Malcolm’s eyes went wide as she swiftly pulled him into a warm, spine-crackingingly firm hug. He looked over Zipporah’s shoulder at Dani in bewilderment, getting the inkling feeling that he now had an idea about where Dani got her strength from.

“Imma, you promised you wouldn’t scare him,” Dani’s tone was scolding, but he could see her biting back her laughter. “Bright looks like he’s about to faint.”

The ridiculous situation startled a laugh out of him as he finally returned Zipporah’s hug. He couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Gil or his mother hugged him and it made him feel warm.

"Come in, come in. We're just getting started."

Zipporah released him from the mini bear hug and she pulled them inside the house, fussing over his wind bitten cheeks and Dani’s snow covered curls.

"Did I hear my little bijou come home?"

A much older woman with a beaming face walked over to them with a baby in her arms. She was short and full figured with glowing dark skin and iron grey hair woven into tiny twisting braids and her eyes were just like Dani’s, deep brown and steady, framed with thick lashes. The baby she was holding wore white footie pajamas patterned with blue Star of Davids with a blue-green headband over her coily little pixie cut that matched her bright eyes. She gave a toothless smile upon seeing them, revealing the same deep dimples as Dani.

"Baby bird is definitely happy you're here."

"Hi Granmè," Dani smiled as she kissed the older woman’s cheek. "Bright, this is my grandmother, Eliana."

Malcolm held out his hand again, surprised at how much the cheerful atmosphere was like a soothing balm to his fraying nerves. It was obvious that Dani grew up in a very loving home.

"It's an honour to meet you. I’m Malcolm Bright."

The little girl stretched her arms out to Dani with a slight squeal. Dani's smile only grew as she took the child from her grandmother and the baby was quick to snuggle in, babbling happily with her chubby cheek squished against Dani’s.

“So you’re the Malcolm Bright we’ve been hearing about.” The older woman gave Malcolm an approving once over as she shook his hand, “You’re a little different than what Dani told us about you.”

Malcolm gave Dani a look full of mischief, ignoring the odd little flutter in his stomach. He wasn’t quite ready to touch on that yet.

“You’ve told them about me?”

“Well, of course.” Dani shot back her own teasing grin. “It’s not every day a box of drugs explodes in someone’s face.”

Her grandmother practically cackled as Malcolm’s ears turned bright pink and he ducked his head sheepishly. A sweet hiccupy giggle snapped him out of his embarrassment and he turned his attention to the baby in Dani’s arms.

“So who’s this?”

“Oh, Dani didn’t tell you--?”

“Uh, Granmè,” Dani cleared her throat pointedly, “how about you get back to helping Mona and Naomie in the kitchen? I’ll show Bright to the living room before I see them.”

Eliana raised an eyebrow, but gave a knowing smirk. It was a little unnerving to see the exact same grin that Dani often shot Bright on her grandmother’s face. No wonder Gil had muttered like grandmother, like granddaughter the day he met Eliana.

“Well, alright then. Call me if you need anything.”

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

“I have so many questions,” Malcolm couldn’t help but blurt out as Dani led him into the living room.

“And I’m guessing they’re all for me?”

“Most of them.”

It had been a little over six months since they started working together, but for all his years of profiling, he still had so much to learn about her. But here in her childhood home was a veritable treasure trove of precious memories in the living room alone. Pictures of her flanked by two older girls who shared Dani’s spiraling curls and golden skin, as a little girl stretching at the ballet barre in a blue star print leotard and white tights, a young dark skinned man who Malcolm assumed to be Dani’s father holding her as a baby and oh, that was unfair.

Jessica always teasingly claimed that Malcolm had been an ugly baby, saying that he looked like a bald cabbage with eyes and not in a good way. Dani had been the complete opposite with a headful of fluffy dark curls, wide doe eyes with soft cheeks and the cutest little nose. That had to be the calmest, most thoughtful expression he’d ever seen on someone that tiny and it made her look more like a doll than a baby.

“My first question,” He inhaled deeply and smiled, his skin becoming less deathly pale as the scent of simmering and frying food washed over him. “What’s that amazing smell?”

Eating had become little more than a chore for Malcolm after The Surgeon's arrest. His mother had tried to tempt him with their chef's home cooking and meals from high end restaurants, but most of it was little more than ash in his mouth. But the warm aroma of fragrant soybean oil and heady spices was starting to make his stomach grumble in anticipation.

"Judging from the sound, pomegranate braised brisket, sweet noodle kugel, kalalou djondjon, poul fri, and I think...” Dani tipped her head to the side to catch a whiff as she adjusted the little girl in her arms. “Granmè's latkes de plátano and her secret salsa de ajo.

And that's not even half of it.” She chuckled as Malcolm’s eyes went as wide as granmè’s dinner plates. “Be prepared to have a seventy-five year old Haitian lady shove multiple helpings at you.”

“Sounds delicious.” His face was as open and sincere as when he said he could trust her in the middle of a drug induced haze. “I honestly can’t remember the last time I was looking forward to a meal.”

He then noticed the baby in Dani’s arms peeking out at him, eyes wide with curiosity. She was still tiny, but he could see the beginnings of Dani’s long nose and rounded chin on her face. He inwardly marveled at the power of genetics, wondering which of Dani’s sisters the little girl belonged to.

“I never did get her name.”

He laughed as the baby let out a squeak before burying her face in Dani’s shoulder. He was oddly reminded of a baby chipmunk at her actions and it only made her even more endearing.

“It’s okay, he’s a friend,” she cooed, coaxing the little girl into lifting her head off her shoulder to get a proper look at the profiler. “This is Angeline. We named her after my great-grandmother, but we call her Annie.”

“Hello Annie.” He leaned down so he could look the baby in the eyes, the expression on his face so meltingly soft that Dani could’ve sworn he was made of marshmallow and spun sugar. “I’m Malcolm.”

Annie giggled, revealing her dimples once again. He hadn’t really been around babies other than when Ainsley was little. Ainsley had been round and cute when she wasn’t demanding attention, but Annie was all round apple cheeks, chubby arms and wide smiling eyes. She looked at everything with intent curiosity and while he hadn’t heard her talk yet, it was obvious she was a very cheerful little girl.

Annie was the cutest baby he had ever seen, he thought as he looked back up at Dani with a smile. His mother would definitely squish her cheeks if she got the chance to meet her.

“She’s adorable.”

“She is, isn’t she? She’s not a Powell for nothing.”

Dani’s smile was warm and content as she dropped a kiss on top of Annie’s curly hair, but it quickly faded when she looked back at Malcolm.

“So Bright,” she bit her lip in hesitation, “there’s something I still need to tell you.”

The second Malcolm heard this, he became laser focused. If Dani wasn’t backing down then he definitely wanted to know what she couldn’t say earlier. His spine straightened and that one little change was enough for him to look like a whole different person.

“I’m all ears.”

“Well...”

Dani trailed off as she held Annie closer, not noticing the baby trying to grab at her necklace.

“There’s a big part of my life I don’t usually tell anyone, especially with my job and all. Other than Gil and the rest of the team, Tally’s the only other person who even knows about this. I figured now would be a good time to tell you, so to speak.”

“You can trust me,” Malcolm couldn’t help but murmur, pale moon-like eyes as bright as his name intently focused on her, as earnest and sincere as he sounded that night in the dim lighting of his kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he really deserved to know whatever it was Dani was about to tell him, but it didn’t stop the way his heart clenched at her unwavering gaze.

“You see, Annie is--” she paused, not sure how she should continue. “I’m--”

“You’re here, you’re here!”

A little head popped up from behind the sofa, revealing a tiny girl with wavy dark hair in a high ponytail. She was wearing a blue menorah sweater, yellow skirt and white tights and Malcolm thought that she wouldn’t look out of place frolicking around in a tutu. He nearly had a heart attack when the toddler leaped onto the sofa, bolting across it towards Dani.

It wasn’t until he had his arms full of lightning fast, beaming kid that he realized that he had already lunged forward, barely managing to catch the little girl before she fell flat on her face.

She giggled in Malcolm’s ear and he caught the comforting smell of coconut oil and powdered sugar as she clumsily wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, seemingly unphased by her almost accident. He finally managed to get a better look at the little girl after balancing her on his hip and he froze in shock.

“Katerina Dawn Powell, we do not go up on high places.” Dani’s tone was stern, but loving. “And don’t flash those baby browns at me, Kit...”

Because he had seen them before, the little girl’s big brown eyes, the ones that lit up her entire face and turned into charming little crescent moons as she crinkled her nose and smiled. Malcolm’s mind raced as he was bombarded with other details. The golden skin and delicate little face? The long nose, the bow-shaped mouth?

Except for the hair, she was practically a carbon copy of Dani.

“Hi Mommy!”

How could he have missed this?

#prodigal son #malcolm bright #dani powell #jessica whitly #brightwell #ainsley whitly #prodigal son fanfiction

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bigamcthyst · 4 years ago

Video

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TASK 001:

FLAUNT Magazine sits down w/ Amethyst Pryce!

Amethyst is struggling to hear over a blow dryer. We’re in a small photography studio in at PRYCE Production Studios and the 26-year-old beauty is honing her look before the shoot. Everyone was a little late (traffic), but now the space is humming with garment hangers sliding across clothes racks and paper grocery bags shuffling snacks to their designated areas. Amethyst is seated in a sweatshirt, juggling two stylists preparing her for a shoot, interview questions, and FaceTime calls from a teenage sneaker broker and influencer. Last night she was battling with her event planner trying to iron out details for her upcoming event for the famed PRYCE Productions, and she’s preparing for a huge roll out to reintroduce the company to this generation. But despite this dizzying to-do list, the Bay Area native is relaxed, almost unbothered. It’s just another day in Amethyst’s world. Her brother Akeem Pryce is nearby, keeping her sane by forcing her into rap cyphers with him. This puts a lot into perspective but the question still remains: who is Amethyst Pryce?

Interviewer: For those who don’t know, tell us a little about who you are.

A: I’m the daughter of Allen Pryce, one of the most critically acclaimed producer/directors in the movie and TV industry. My brother, Akeem and I are the heirs to PRYCE Production.

Interviewer: That’s a crazy world to be apart of, dating must be crazy? Do you find it harder to date?

A: Well I think I make it hard, I don’t allow myself to make one person a priority.

Interviewer: Now you said ‘person’, does that mean you aren’t totally hetero?

A: Amethyst smirks, before giving a simple head nod. Women are nice to look at, can you blame me? Don’t get me wrong I love men, but it’s something about loving a woman that just... I can’t explain it.

Interviewer: So in your own words, what do you identify as?

A: I’m bisexual, gender wise I am female and I use she/her.

Interviewer: So earlier you mentioned that you were an heir, let’s expand on that and your role at PRYCE Productions.

A: Sure, I have taken on the role as Producer/Screenwriter. I’ve pretty much been a writer my whole life. I’ve always loved having writing as an outlet especailly with everything I’ve been through. The producer role was introduced to me by my father, who got me the opportunity to intern for Quentin Tarantino.

Interviewer: Wait, THE Quentin Taratino?

A: Yes, Mr. Pulp Fiction himself.

Interviewer: I have to admit, that’s pretty impressive. How did he introduce you guys and did you even know how big of deal that was at the time?

A: The day of my 17th birthday, and it was the summer, July 7th. Cancer gang baby! So I was old enough to know like who he was and what that opportunity would mean for me. I just remember my Dad calling me into his office and there he was. Quentin Tarantino in a tie dye shirt. And the rest was history.

Interviewer: So I’m sure you gained a lot knowledge and experience from both him and your father. Are you afraid of letting them down? That’s a lot of pressure for someone who isn’t even in their 30s yet. Do you have any fears at all?

A: I can’t lie and say I don’t feel any pressure but pressure makes diamonds and I’m already a gem. I think I’m just afraid to not accomplish everything I want to professionally and personally before I die.

Interviewer: So, what are your aspirations:

A: I want to make my first million dollars from a film or TV show that I wrote and produced by myself, no Daddy involved. I got all this old money, I wanna be able to say I got some of it on my own. I want to find love someday and have a big ass family. I really want to have a house in the Philippines as well. A big ass crib.

Interviewer: Most of your goals seem pretty family-oriented, which is surprising because you’re very driven and flashy. Some could mistake you for boujie, especially with your upbringing. What do you have to say about that?

A: I get that assumption a lot. Crazy thing is, I’m only so ‘flashy’ because of my mother. I remember watching her get decked out in the flyest shit to go to galas and movie premieres with my father. She was an amazing host and always had us looking fly whenever she hosted parties. I get my sense of style from her. She was everything. I’m not boujie though, maybe a lil girly but hey.

Interviewer: Some people may be familiar with the tragic loss of your mother, but to some this is all new information so if it’s alright, can you talk a bit about that?

A: My mother was diagnosed with stage 3 brain cancer, the proper term is Glioma. My brother and I didn’t know because she begged my father not to tell us. So we basically went on about life like nothing was wrong. Eventually her condition worsened and she ended up in intensive care in the hospital, soon after that she was gone.

Interviewer: That must have been tough, I couldn’t imagine dealing with something like that. I’m so sorry for your loss.

A: Thank you but I didn’t lose her, I gained an angel. I talk to my mom every chance I get. On days I feel like I can’t get through, I just feel her presence and her love. It’s funny because even in the afterlife, she remains the glue of our family.

Interviewer: That’s a beautiful way to look at it, you have this strength about you that just glows. How are you not married yet?

A: Shit, you tell me honey? If you let my best friend Ashtyn tell it, I’m a grandma and a prude.

Interviewer: Are you really?

A: Hello no, but she thinks I work too much and don’t make enough time to play. And she’s not wrong, but I just feel like if you like me then you should be fightin’ for my attention. Chase me and I’ll love you forvever. A girl likes to feel appreciated.

Interviewer: Well, you heard it here first ladies and gentlemen, if you want a chance with Amethyst you’re gonna have to come correct.

A: Period! Nah but I just want some romance, like 4 page letter, getting caught in the rain kinda romance.

Interviewer: Well since we’re on the topic, what are your likes and dislikes?

A: I like wings and I love sushi. I dislike waiting and I hate repeating myself.

Interviewer: So impatient and greedy? Got it.

A: Oh, wow. I can’t say you’re wrong.

Interviewer: If you had to describe your social media presence, what would you say?

A: My twitter is a bunch of inside jokes and me rambling at 3 A.M. Snapchat was originally just for my close friends but I’ve opened it up for my fans so I can take them through my work days at PRYCE Production studios and just my work days and trips in general. My instagram is my favorite app to use because I get to showcase my style. I love to put looks together. I’m the type of girl to beat my face and get dressed just to go get a snack from the kitchen.

Interviewer: Now take us through your phone, what’s going on there?

A: I have three phones. One is a business phone, for all holllywood friends, contacts and connections. One phone is kinda like a business phone but I use it to stay in contact with staff at PRYCE Production studios. And the last one, of course, is a personal phone for friends, family and a boo thang when I get one.

Interviewer: Okay, I love to end interviews with this question becasuse the answer says a lot more about you than anything else will. What is your music taste like?

A: Oh that’s a hard one. I really love all genres. I can go from Biggie to Mary J. Blige, to Old Dominion, to Elton John, to Queen to Frank Ocean, to Juvenile, to Too Short... It all depends on the mood I’m in or the mindset I need to be in at that moment.

Interviewer: I think that is officially one of my favorite answers. Amethyst, thank you for sitting down with me today. I can’t what to see what you do with PRYCE Productions

A: Thank you, it was a pleasure being here with you, truly. This was fun.

#🄿🅁🅈🄲🄴 — tasks.

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