#like the Hulk was very amenable to doing what that woman wanting

[daydreamerdrew]

Marvel Team-Up (1972) Annual #3

[shorkbrian]

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g 

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

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

“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t.  But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect.  How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed.  The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged  with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same  attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before.  A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words.  There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

[kaneshiroflms]

Endgame things and thoughts

Nebula and Tony hanging out was so adorable they have my heart :<

Carol singlehandingly bringing a wholeass ship back to earth ?ugh her mind

Thanos just chilling and cooking and Carol just fucking going for him is poetic cinema

Thor saying “I went for the head”

5 FUCKINF YEARS?!

Scott being saved by a rat? Iconic.

Scott panicking when looking for Cassie’s name then seeing her all grown up and ok was heartbreaking specially knowing he didn’t get to see her grow up

Scott giving all he could to get the others back and trying his best not to breakdown when mentioning Hope

“She’s my.. she was my..”

Scott saying he lost someone very important to him :((

I dont rlly ship them but the Carol and Rhodey interaction was cool of them to reference

Carol and Nat’s hair is sending me

Tony as a father is so adorable and i love morgan already

I’ve read posts saying that Tony rejecting helping them with the time heist was sefish, but he just didn’t want to risk losing the people he loves again. He didn’t want his daughter to lose a father or lose Pepper since him being back was already a second chance for him

Peter being his motivation :((

Morgan is so much like his dad uwu Tony is such a great dad

Valkyrie in midgaurdian clothes

KORG

Thor having a beer belly made the entire theatre gasp lmao

I also think they did him dirty. Specially since he clearly had ptsd and it seemed like they just turned it to a joke

Scott turning into a baby and Tony knowing he turned to a baby lmao

Bruce giving Scott tacos after his first one fell

Scott being friendly to Nebula :<

Scott giving 2012 Tony a cardiac arrest and 2023 Tony shouting for help lmao

“I could do this all day” “I know”

“That’s America’s ass”

Loki mocking steve

Loki’s lil wave at hulk in the elevator :< i miss my bitch

I really thought they’d make the elevator scene a parallel to the one in tws and we’d see a fight again

2012 Steve letting go of 2023 Steve when he told him that Bucky was alive

Steve and Tony in the 70s!

they should’ve had Dominic Cooper play Howard again.

Tony talking to his dad about his daughter

Peggy still having Steve’s photograph just like he has her’s :((

Steve seeing Peggy :((

JARVIS MY MAN

Nat and Clint being happy and giddy in space makes me cry now knowing whats gonna happen next

Peter singing without music lmao

Fuck thanos for hurting both nebulas

When Clint and Nat’s foreheads were together:( i love their friendship

“Please let me go” :(( Natasha deserved better

The fact that this film values family is so sweet

Thor and Frigga’s interaction and Thor saying his last goodbye to Frigga :((

Thor wanting to be the one to hold the gauntlet so he could do something right :<

Clint’s reaction when his wife called

Why does thanos always let the others do his work smh

Cap wielding mjolnir lemme tell u everyone in the theatre sCREAMED

The shot where Steve was ready to fight thanos and his army alone even before he knew the others would come is just-

“On your left”

Everyone who were gone appearing was so powerful

When peter appeared everyone cHEERED

The fact that everyone was there, Wakandans, Wong, the guardians etc iCONIC

“Avengers, assemble.” C h i l l s

Peter telling Tony what happened and tony hugging him

“Oh this is nice”

T’challa finally saying Clint’s name lmao

Captain Marvel’s entrance

Carol really just flew through a fucking battleship and managed to come out without a single scratch

“Hi im peter parker” “hey peter parker, you got something for me?”

HOPE VAN DYNE

“Is that everyone?” “Like you wanted more?”

“I don’t even know who you are” “you will” Amen sister

And the fact that Wanda singlehandedly nearly killed thanos and thanos had to recruit his army cos he got threatened by a woman

When Peter met Gamora and said “I thought I lost you”

Gamora kicking his balls HAHA

The all women scene was so powerful the entire theatre cheered

It upsets me tho that Natasha who brought them together wasn’t there

Hope and scott teaming up again oh god we dont deserve them

Captain marvel going for thanos the second time and when he tried punching her and she didnt flinch

Tony looking at Stephen was the time he knew what was supposed to be done

When tony had the gauntlet

“I’m inevitable” “i am iron man”

Peter going for tony “mr stark, can you hear me? It’s me peter.” “We won Mr. Stark. We won. You did it”

Pepper gently putting peter aside :((

The fact that pepper said “but will u be able to rest” back in their home when tony told her about the time travel thing and while he was slowly dying she told him “it’s okay, you can rest now”

Also when pepper was trying so hard to pull herself together and even said “we’re going to be okay.” And when she gave him a final kiss in the cheek but breaking down when Tony finally died

Tony’s last message while we see Clint reuniting with his family, T’challa, Shuri and Ramonda watching over the city, Hope, Cassie and Scott watching the sky and being happy

When hologram Tony looked at Morgan and said “I love you 3000” :((

the fact that Morgan lost his father at such a young age and that she wouldn’t get to grow up with a father. She probably doesn’t even understand what was going on

Morgan hugging her mom,, she must be so confused

When everyone was there for the funeral :( even Harley

Carol in those pants? G a y

Bucky in that jacket and jeans? Also gay

VALKYRIE AS THE QUEEN OF ASGARD? Iconic

Peter still searching for Gamora :((

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone” “ur bringing all the stupid with u” THAT REFERENCE

“I’ll miss you” “it’s gonna be alright buck” Bucky knew what Steve was gonna do and that he wouldn’t come back

IM LIVING FOR SAM AS THE NEW CAP

“Wanna tell me about her?” *looks to the view and slowly smiles* “no, i dont think i will” HE CLEARLY HAD A HAPPY LIFE AND HE DESERVES IT

Steve and Peggy looked so happy and content and they deserve it

I still didn’t get why some didn’t like Steve’s arc,, Steve created a different timeline in which he comes back to Peggy and they both chose to get married and live together. So there is a different timeline where Peggy moved on, but in this timeline Steve and Peggy gets to be happy and grow old together. Steve is happy and he deserves to be :)

Also do u guys ever wonder if steve came back to the same date and place Peggy told him when he was about to crash the plane :((

The way the movie ended tho,, when right after we see Steve and Peggy dancing and kissing it cuts to black and the lyrics of the song start as the credits start rolling too. It’s such a beautiful way to conclude the phase :”( they ended it with Steve in the 40s, the very first avenger and the decade it all began.

Also the credits where they had their signatures :((

Anyway thats all thanks for coming to my tedtalk,, also feel free to add some more of ur thoughts from the film :)

[iwhumpyou]

if this is too specific feel free to ignore this ask but could you write something where character A’s friends know that A is going through something really bad (like being tortured or something) and go to help them only to see that what they were imagining A going through wasn’t even close to what was actually going on? (also, I love your whumpfics, especially Bastard and Kyran! you’re an amazing writer!)

I’m glad you’re enjoying my whumpfic! 😍💖

This is a bit tamer than outright torture, but the shape of the request fit the Muzzle arc and I thought I’d give it a try!

Masterlist.  Janiya.

Part 2.

~#~#~#~#~#~

“How do we know they even have Janiya?” Ivy asked, voice level but cold.  “They certainly haven’t shown us any proof.”

“We tried calling Janiya,” Gavin reminded her, watching as the wet trees were replaced with gray-washed buildings.  “She didn’t pick up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ash said, still grumbling in the back seat.

Ash had been the one to voice it, back when they got the call, after contacting Janiya had failed, after they were forced to accept that perhaps the Rainier pack was telling the truth. Janiya wasn’t pack.  Not anymore.  They had no obligation to go after her, though Ash had put it more crudely than that.

Gavin had glared at him, and the rest of the pack with flinty eyes.  It was their fault that Janiya was in trouble.  Perhaps they didn’t have a duty to save her, but it was still the right thing to do.

And besides, the Rainier pack clearly needed a lesson in how to take no for an answer.

“She should’ve been more careful,” Rita said as they pulled into the deserted parking lot of the – at first glance – abandoned warehouse.  “She never learns her lessons.”

It wasn’t an unfair claim. Janiya had a predilection for ignoring safety and caution and approaching every problem like it could be beaten by dry insults and condescending sneers.  She’d certainly sharpened her tongue like others sharpened claws.

It would have served her well as a lawyer.  A reporter. It did not serve her well in the supernatural world.

“Alpha Rainier,” Gavin said coolly, as they were met at the entrance by a hulking werewolf.  She was flanked by a woman whose smile made him uneasy and a human man with shadows crawling over his body.  “If you think that hostages have made me more amenable to your treaty, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Alpha Lake,” Robin Rainier smiled at him.  “I merely wanted the pleasure of your company.  You’re a hard man to pin down.  Don’t worry, your pack-member will be returned to you alive.”

“Janiya is no longer a member of my pack,” Gavin said levelly.

Rainier raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing about her lips.  The woman by her side looked gleeful.  “Then why have you come all this way?” she asked, her eyes alight with satisfaction.

“Because I don’t hate you enough to call the hunters,” Gavin said calmly.  Rainier stopped smiling.  The woman looked sour.  And the shadows, for an instant, seemed darker.  “That can change.  Give me Janiya, and never contact me again.  I don’t want a treaty with your pack, and that is my final decision.” 

Rainier looked like she was grinding her teeth.  Bringing in the hunters was a cheap blow, but by their laws, Janiya was a human and not affiliated with any pack.  Kidnapping her was a clear excuse to go after the Rainier pack, and they hadn’t endeared themselves to anyone in the area.

The woman was casting glances at the empty warehouses around them, as if expecting to see the flashes of guns, and the shadows had started to flicker around them, though the human did not meet anyone’s gaze.

“You will regret this,” Rainier said quietly, “You forced my hand once.  You will not like the second time.”

“I don’t appreciate being blackmailed,” Gavin said pleasantly, “You seem to think that showing up and bullying your way through every obstacle is a sound strategy.  This isn’t the South, Alpha Rainier.  The northern packs dislike outsiders, and we don’t play nice.”

Rainier nodded to her second, who paused to shoot them all a nasty glare before vanishing into the building. “Rome didn’t become an empire by playing nice,” Rainier said, turning away.

“Yeah, and Caesar was stabbed twenty-three times for it,” Rita said under her breath, but well within werewolf hearing.  Rainier stilled for a beat, before walking away, the human with the shadows following her.

Ivy, however, was staring into the darkness, the faintest flicker of worry on her face.  “What’s wrong?” Gavin muttered.

“Alive,” Ivy said, so quiet her lips barely moved, “Not unharmed.”

A ripple of unease spread through the small group Gavin had taken with him.

“Someone as power-obsessed as Rainier isn’t going to see the worth in harming a human,” Ash said, but his tone wasn’t very confident.

“Janiya has a talent for pissing people off,” Rita countered darkly, but all of them fell silent once they heard footsteps again.

Rainier hadn’t come back. Her second was the only one that came into view, dragging a curiously wet Janiya behind her and –

That was a muzzle.

Behind Gavin, Ash had gone dangerously still.

Janiya’s eyes flashed as she was unceremoniously hauled out of the warehouse and pushed towards them – she managed to keep her balance to avoid spilling to her knees at their feet, but Gavin didn’t need to see her entire face to imagine the rest of her vicious scowl.  The woman merely gave them a teeth-bared glare before disappearing back into the warehouse.

Gavin supposed they thought it was funny, to put a muzzle on a human.  As so many hunters had put them on werewolves.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning on his heel.  Ivy grabbed Janiya – her wrists were tied behind her back, and werewolf claws sliced through them easily – and tugged her towards the car.  Ash replaced Ivy in the front seat, his gaze fixed ahead and his hands curled into fists as he struggled to breathe normally, and Gavin spared him half a glance before starting the car.

Janiya was sandwiched between Rita and Ivy and in the rearview mirror he can see her struggling with the buckles on the sides of the muzzle.

“You can do that when we get home,” he said flatly, and was entirely unsurprised when Janiya ignored him.

She was making distressing huffs of air and Gavin’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he pressed on the accelerator.  Ash was as still as a statue, and about as pale.  It wasn’t far back to their home – the Rainier pack had been lurking at the edge of their territory for days now – but every second felt it had been stretched.

“Oh, for moon’s sake,” Rita finally snapped, pushing Janiya’s hands away from the buckle and undoing the thing herself, “Are you really that impatient to –”

The sharp scent of blood filled the car.

“Rita,” Gavin said with a calm he did not feel, “What’s going on?”

There was no answer. He spared a glance to the rearview mirror – Rita and Ivy were exchanging wide-eyed glances.

“Rita,” Gavin started, his tone slipping into warning.

“Nothing,” Rita cut him off, her voice high, “Just – just a little more complicated to remove than I thought.  It’s fine.  We’re handling it.”

Gavin cast another glance, but Ivy had wedged herself onto the center console, neatly blocking his view of the backseat.

“Ivy, what are you doing?” Ash had twisted, trying to peer past her, but she moved with him, her face hard.

“We don’t need you wolfing out in the car,” Ivy said quietly, “Eyes on the road, Ash.”

Ash scowled.  “Rita, if it’s too complicated it can wait until we get home,” Gavin said.

“It’s not too complicated,” Rita responded immediately.

“I can smell blood,” Gavin said flatly.  There was no response.  Gavin sighed, “I’m driving as fast as I can, we’ll be home soon.”

Soon, it transpired, was an inadequate measure of time.  By the time Gavin had parked, Ash’s thrumming tension was suffocating, Ivy’s carefully blank expression was fracturing around the eyes, and Rita’s muttered rambling had devolved into curses, and then silence.  Janiya’s breathing grew more labored by the minute.

The others spilled from the house before they’d even stopped, and Ash jerked the door open to take several steps away from the car and get ahold of himself.  Gavin eyed him, debating over whether or not to approach, but decided to get rid of the source before attempting to deal with its effects. 

“What’s wrong?” he said tiredly, rounding the car to where Rita was glowering at the muzzle – a clunky thing made of metal, heavy enough that Janiya was having difficulty holding it to her jaw.  The buckles and belts seemed to have been loosened, and Gavin didn’t understand what the problem –

Janiya’s fingers shifted, and the scent of blood was fresh.

“It’s latched onto her face,” Rita said softly.

Gavin stilled.  Ivy’s face was pinched, Rita’s drawn and worried, and Janiya’s narrowed eyes couldn’t hide their watery sheen.

“We’ll do this in the house,” he said instead of cursing.  The murmurs died to a sudden hush as Janiya got out of the car, and her narrow-eyed glare made it extremely clear what she would’ve said, if her mouth had been free.

But soon they were on the couch – Janiya perched on the edge, her eyes darting around the room like this hadn’t been her home once too – and Gavin took a seat to study the thing more closely.

He could see where metal pincers latched through her skin, turning it red and inflamed, and through some miming got Janiya to point out the locations of all of them – one on each cheekbone, four trailing down to her jaw, one at her chin, and four arrayed around her lips.  It was heavy, straining at the skin if it wasn’t held up, and the roughshod design didn’t reveal a way of removing the thing.

“There are a couple of buttons on it,” Rita said, hovering nervously, “I tried them all, but nothing worked.”

“There must be a way to get it…off…”  Kai’s words trailed off as Ash entered the room.

His movements were fluid, but Gavin wasn’t the only one who saw the sharp edges as everyone backed away to clear Ash’s path.  The man crouched in front of Janiya – she flinched back, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

Ash examined the muzzle, careful fingers turning Janiya’s head to look at it from all sides and tap on the metal.  It covered nearly her whole face, fitting inelegantly over her nose and just under her eyes to extend to her ears.  Janiya’s expression – what little he could see of it – was definitely a glare, but he didn’t have to be a werewolf to tell that her heart was pounding. 

“It’s Raklive make,” Ash said finally.  There was a chorus of hisses around the room.

“Do you know how to remove it?” Gavin asked, careful to keep his voice level.  Ash was still inspecting the muzzle carefully, but a part of his expression was far, far away from here.

“It can’t be removed,” Ash said, straightening.  The look on his face wasn’t pity.  It was colder than that.  “They didn’t design their toys to have an off switch.” 

There was a long, shifting silence before Darin worked up the nerve.  “How did you get yours off?” he asked softly.

Ash looked at him, and then at Janiya before he pressed a hand to his cheek in an apparent unconscious gesture.

“I ripped it off,” he rasped, before he turned on his heel and walked out.

Janiya’s narrowed eyes had been replacing with wide ones, her heart rate even faster.  She curled her hands around the muzzle like she was afraid they were going to tear it from her face.

~#~

Part 4.

[beatlesqueen1960s1970s]

Frain: Take Me To Chruch

Tw: Homophobia, Faggot Used, Attempted Murder, Cult, Violence

Freddie lays on the hill Brian cuddled against his side, "You know this is wrong.." Brian whispers feeling Freddie's hands roam over his body.

"I love being wrong then." Freddie whispers softly passionately kissing him roaming his hands on the younger man's backside.

Brian felt his body shudder as he kisses Freddie back the older man pulls him closer as the stars shine bright but clouds were slowly rolling in. He touches his cheek and sadly pulls away, "I'm only a field away." Freddie whispers standing up as they heard a noise.

The town of Shiloh, was entirely Anti LGBTQ+ they had to hide their relationship heavily. They have little safe moments together which are becoming fewer and fewer.

"We were born sick." Brian whispers putting a cold hand against his cheek not wanting to leave his love behind. He felt Fred's heated breath against his face, Brian grabs Fred by one of his suspender strap and kisses him passionately. He felt the roughness of his beard rub against Fred's bare cheek.

"The only heaven I got is when I'm with you." Freddie whispers forcing himself away wanting to feel more of Brian wanting to keep him in his arms.

Brian works for the church and Freddie attends the church even if he isn't the same religion.... a new poison each week.

It was hard being in a homophobic town and being a immigrant. They make sure to blend in by worshiping heavily and "dating" women..... Aka  paying a few women to be their girlfriends. The two bought houses that were a field away from each other and they worked on their farming. Everything was going smooth no one suspected any thing right?

Freddie was waiting to be dragged away he had been caught dating a white woman named Mary. He didn't stick to his own race and he knew that was sinful enough but lord if the town ever found out about him and Brian? He would have to flee the very same hour while a huge ass witch hunt would conduct. He can almost feel the burn of ropes dig into his skin as stones hit him and it makes him shudder to think such a thing but he knows what the town is like.

Freddie and Brian part ways like they've been doing each night since they started dating five years ago with linger eyes and a yearning for each other. Freddie assumes it will be like any other night they kiss goodbye and head back to their homes, only a field away never too far apart. Freddie greets his cat, Chester as he kicks the door behind him closed.

"Hey buddy. Did you miss daddy?" Freddie asks.

Loud intense purring comes from Chester and Freddie laughs as he gets dinner started, "My lover's got humor..." Freddie whispers then frowns, "She's the giggle at a funeral...Knows everybody's disapproval. I should've worshiped her sooner....If the Heavens ever did speak.... H- She's the last true mouthpiece." he tells his old cat scratching behind Chester's ears.

The stew almost smelled heavenly the sign of a good cook was in the kitchen or  complete luck. Freddie got a cutesy little flowery designed bowl down for his stew and prepared to get a nice beer from the fridge when he heard the commotion of a century happening outside his house. Freddie peers out as the rain sprinkles gingerly down a small bonfire was a blazed, two men guard it, Father Daniel and his son Abel he has a older brother but Freddie doesn't see him anywhere. They had a bonfire going in the centre of the field.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

Freddie rushes out there his boots almost slipping in the mud, "Father! Father what is the matter?!" one of his straps was dangling off his shoulder now, Chester his beloved kitty was at his feet mud covered now.

"There's a nasty disgusting faggot right under our noses." Father Daniel sneers, "We're going to get rid of him." a big smirk comes onto his face, "Wanna joi-"

Freddie's already running to Brian's house it would be too dark to see anything but the young man's house was engulfed in flames the poor boy was being dragged out by his hair he was kicking and scream while trying to protect his body from the rocks being pelted at him some of the men still held molotov cocktails in their hands, some had their faces covered by masks.  Freddie could hear the town's words, all the screaming and wailing.

"Pedo!" a big hulk of a man screams crashing their boot into Brian's nose, "You're going to burn in hell!"

"He's mental ill!" a woman yells fanning herself with a church flyer.

"He's been vaccinated!'' someone else wails in the crowd sounding like a banshee.

Freddie hides behind some shrubbery he has to come up with a plan to rescue his love, Chester rubs against his knees and meows. Freddie covers his mouth, "You're right, Chess."

The town released all their pent up rage using Brian as some toy as they beat him, stone him, toss him around. He's being dragged towards the bonfire he's screaming for his life. His eyes are so full of fear and he's starting to choke on his own blood. They are literally going to burn him at the stake if Fred doesn't stop this.

"Stop!!" Freddie screams bolting from the shrubbery lifting his hands up a blueish glow seems to emerge from them as a  crack of lighten happens and the rain gushes down, Chester stands by his owner meowing louder, more than comes down.

"Witch!!" Abel yells lifting up his shotgun at Freddie.

"I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies!" Freddie screams, "I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife

Offer me my deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life. Please spare him!''

"Cain no!" it was Father Daniel's voice.

Cain fired his shotgun and hit his brother instead the preteen falls to the ground and a woman's cry can be heard,

Freddie raises his hand and sends Cain flying back into his father sending both men barreling towards the bonfire, "Witch! He's a witch!" the town stampedes around tramping each other leaving a dying Abel and a dying Brian.

Freddie steps over Abel guilt fills him but he can't help, Chester rubs against the boy's face. The boy looks already dead anyway and he just hopes Brian is still alive. Freddie kneels the mud soaking through his jeans freezing his legs more, "I don't know how they found my little secret out." the words come out with a twisted giggle, "Maybe I wasn't that safe."

He saw Brian's dulling hazel eyes search his face, "There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin," he cups Brian's cold wet face with one hand,

"In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene." he presses a chaste kiss against Brian's chapped lips.

He raises his hand the blueish glow returns he grazes the tips of his fingers against Brian's temple making the younger man cry out and arch his back before collapsing into his arms his white dirty dress shirt sticks to his thin body, "You truly are a witch." Brian rasps out a glow among his eyes.

"I'll leave, Brian. I understand." Freddie says getting ready to stand.

Brian grabs him weakly and kisses him feebly, "I love the mad ones."

Freddie gingerly picks up Abel and brings him inside the crumbling church Brian following at his heels he still has some bruises peppered on him, Chester meows following after flicking his big fluffy tail trying to get water out. Freddie lays Abel on a small table and heals him, "In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. I heal you, amen." it was bullshit Freddie spewed from his mouth but he knew faith would most likely help ease Abel as he gets healed.

"Lets leave." Freddie says taking Brian's hand dirt was still caked in his nails and fingers from where he fought for his life only a little bit ago, "A train will be leaving soon."

"Take me with you." Abel speaks up struggling to sit up he holds his head.

Now that Freddie can see him in the light better he realizes the boy is no older than 9 years old. He's malnourished and missing a good bit of teeth.

Brian pushes past Freddie and grabs Abel putting the boy on his hip, "Lets flee before they get brave."

Freddie picks up Chester and snuggles into the kitty's ginger fur, "Come now."

And the walk to the train station under the cover of darkness, they manage to get tickets to the farthest town away from Shiloh, Mulberry. It was was a tiny small town perfect to hide and blend in to. The four leave town on a train around late 5AM, leaving the cult like town of Shiloh behind them. They watch out the train window as the fire from the bonfire spreads engulfing the cursed town like a hungry serpent.

[nic-214]

Frain: Take Me To Church

Tw: Homophobia, Faggot Used, Attempted Murder, Cult, Violence

Freddie lays on the hill Brian cuddled against his side, "You know this is wrong.." Brian whispers feeling Freddie's hands roam over his body.

"I love being wrong then." Freddie whispers softly passionately kissing him roaming his hands on the younger man's backside.

Brian felt his body shudder as he kisses Freddie back the older man pulls him closer as the stars shine bright but clouds were slowly rolling in. He touches his cheek and sadly pulls away, "I'm only a field away." Freddie whispers standing up as they heard a noise.

The town of Shiloh, was entirely Anti LGBTQ+ they had to hide their relationship heavily. They have little safe moments together which are becoming fewer and fewer.

"We were born sick." Brian whispers putting a cold hand against his cheek not wanting to leave his love behind. He felt Fred's heated breath against his face, Brian grabs Fred by one of his suspender strap and kisses him passionately. He felt the roughness of his beard rub against Fred's bare cheek.

"The only heaven I got is when I'm with you." Freddie whispers forcing himself away wanting to feel more of Brian wanting to keep him in his arms.

Brian works for the church and Freddie attends the church even if he isn't the same religion.... a new poison each week.

It was hard being in a homophobic town and being a immigrant. They make sure to blend in by worshiping heavily and "dating" women..... Aka  paying a few women to be their girlfriends. The two bought houses that were a field away from each other and they worked on their farming. Everything was going smooth no one suspected any thing right?

Freddie was waiting to be dragged away he had been caught dating a white woman named Mary. He didn't stick to his own race and he knew that was sinful enough but lord if the town ever found out about him and Brian? He would have to flee the very same hour while a huge ass witch hunt would conduct. He can almost feel the burn of ropes dig into his skin as stones hit him and it makes him shudder to think such a thing but he knows what the town is like.

Freddie and Brian part ways like they've been doing each night since they started dating five years ago with linger eyes and a yearning for each other. Freddie assumes it will be like any other night they kiss goodbye and head back to their homes, only a field away never too far apart. Freddie greets his cat, Chester as he kicks the door behind him closed.

"Hey buddy. Did you miss daddy?" Freddie asks.

Loud intense purring comes from Chester and Freddie laughs as he gets dinner started, "My lover's got humor..." Freddie whispers then frowns, "She's the giggle at a funeral...Knows everybody's disapproval. I should've worshiped her sooner....If the Heavens ever did speak.... H- She's the last true mouthpiece." he tells his old cat scratching behind Chester's ears.

The stew almost smelled heavenly the sign of a good cook was in the kitchen or  complete luck. Freddie got a cutesy little flowery designed bowl down for his stew and prepared to get a nice beer from the fridge when he heard the commotion of a century happening outside his house. Freddie peers out as the rain sprinkles gingerly down a small bonfire was a blazed, two men guard it, Father Daniel and his son Abel he has a older brother but Freddie doesn't see him anywhere. They had a bonfire going in the centre of the field.

No masters or kings when the ritual begins

Freddie rushes out there his boots almost slipping in the mud, "Father! Father what is the matter?!" one of his straps was dangling off his shoulder now, Chester his beloved kitty was at his feet mud covered now.

"There's a nasty disgusting faggot right under our noses." Father Daniel sneers, "We're going to get rid of him." a big smirk comes onto his face, "Wanna joi-"

Freddie's already running to Brian's house it would be too dark to see anything but the young man's house was engulfed in flames the poor boy was being dragged out by his hair he was kicking and scream while trying to protect his body from the rocks being pelted at him some of the men still held molotov cocktails in their hands, some had their faces covered by masks.  Freddie could hear the town's words, all the screaming and wailing.

"Pedo!" a big hulk of a man screams crashing their boot into Brian's nose, "You're going to burn in hell!"

"He's mental ill!" a woman yells fanning herself with a church flyer.

"He's been vaccinated!'' someone else wails in the crowd sounding like a banshee.

Freddie hides behind some shrubbery he has to come up with a plan to rescue his love, Chester rubs against his knees and meows. Freddie covers his mouth, "You're right, Chess."

The town released all their pent up rage using Brian as some toy as they beat him, stone him, toss him around. He's being dragged towards the bonfire he's screaming for his life. His eyes are so full of fear and he's starting to choke on his own blood. They are literally going to burn him at the stake if Fred doesn't stop this.

"Stop!!" Freddie screams bolting from the shrubbery lifting his hands up a blueish glow seems to emerge from them as a  crack of lighten happens and the rain gushes down, Chester stands by his owner meowing louder, more than comes down.

"Witch!!" Abel yells lifting up his shotgun at Freddie.

"I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies!" Freddie screams, "I'll tell you my sins so you can sharpen your knife

Offer me my deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life. Please spare him!''

"Cain no!" it was Father Daniel's voice.

Cain fired his shotgun and hit his brother instead the preteen falls to the ground and a woman's cry can be heard,

Freddie raises his hand and sends Cain flying back into his father sending both men barreling towards the bonfire, "Witch! He's a witch!" the town stampedes around tramping each other leaving a dying Abel and a dying Brian.

Freddie steps over Abel guilt fills him but he can't help, Chester rubs against the boy's face. The boy looks already dead anyway and he just hopes Brian is still alive. Freddie kneels the mud soaking through his jeans freezing his legs more, "I don't know how they found my little secret out." the words come out with a twisted giggle, "Maybe I wasn't that safe."

He saw Brian's dulling hazel eyes search his face, "There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin," he cups Brian's cold wet face with one hand,

"In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene." he presses a chaste kiss against Brian's chapped lips.

He raises his hand the blueish glow returns he grazes the tips of his fingers against Brian's temple making the younger man cry out and arch his back before collapsing into his arms his white dirty dress shirt sticks to his thin body, "You truly are a witch." Brian rasps out a glow among his eyes.

"I'll leave, Brian. I understand." Freddie says getting ready to stand.

Brian grabs him weakly and kisses him feebly, "I love the mad ones."

Freddie gingerly picks up Abel and brings him inside the crumbling church Brian following at his heels he still has some bruises peppered on him, Chester meows following after flicking his big fluffy tail trying to get water out. Freddie lays Abel on a small table and heals him, "In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit. I heal you, amen." it was bullshit Freddie spewed from his mouth but he knew faith would most likely help ease Abel as he gets healed.

"Lets leave." Freddie says taking Brian's hand dirt was still caked in his nails and fingers from where he fought for his life only a little bit ago, "A train will be leaving soon."

"Take me with you." Abel speaks up struggling to sit up he holds his head.

Now that Freddie can see him in the light better he realizes the boy is no older than 9 years old. He's malnourished and missing a good bit of teeth.

Brian pushes past Freddie and grabs Abel putting the boy on his hip, "Lets flee before they get brave."

Freddie picks up Chester and snuggles into the kitty's ginger fur, "Come now."

And the walk to the train station under the cover of darkness, they manage to get tickets to the farthest town away from Shiloh, Mulberry. It was was a tiny small town perfect to hide and blend in to. The four leave town on a train around late 5AM, leaving the cult like town of Shiloh behind them. They watch out the train window as the fire from the bonfire spreads engulfing the cursed town like a hungry serpent.

[jrcashwrites]

Camping

Pairing: Flip Zimmerman x Female Reader

Warnings: Lemons ahoy! 

A/N: Thank you always to lovely @ravenj84

“Finally getting out of here for a bit, Zimmerman?”

Chief Bridges raised an eyebrow as Flip placed the paperwork down onto his desk. Stepping back, the detective waited patiently as his boss scanned over his request.

“Thought I’d get out to Gunnison before the first snowfall.”

“Beautiful this time of year up there.” Chief Bridges commented as he stamped his seal of approval and handing the papers back over to him. “Enjoy yourself.”

Flip couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement as he walked out of the station to his truck. He’d never taken anyone camping with him before, usually using his time off as a bit of solitude up in the mountains, far removed from case files and detective work for a weekend. If he was being honest with himself he’d never had anyone he’d ever wanted to ask to accompany him before.

You’d come in like a whirlwind, catching the detective off guard one night at the Red Lantern. Finally fulfilling a long standing promise to Ron and Patrice for an after work drink, Flip finally found the time to meet with his friends. He hadn’t expected for them to bring another along, finding you sitting in his usual spot in the back booth, forever altering his usual nightly routine of frozen dinners and reruns.

Making a quick stop at the grocery to pick up a six pack of Coors and a bottle of your favorite bourbon, he arrived at your apartment. Plopping himself down on your couch, Flip made himself comfortable as you switched off the television set and joined him.

“How’d you feel about a little weekend getaway?” Flip asked as popped the tab of his beer open with a hiss.

Leaning against his side, a vision of a weekend away on a white sand beach surrounded by palm trees with a shirtless detective lounging in a hammock next to you floated through your head

“Up to the mountains,” Flip added, causing any thoughts of the ocean to evaporate instantly from your mind’s eye. “Thought you’d might want to come camping with me?”

“Camping?” you questioned, sitting up on the couch a bit to look over at Flip.

Suddenly feeling nervous he’d even brought the idea up, Flip faltered. Maybe you weren’t the type that thought spending a weekend out in the woods as an idea of fun. Second guessing himself, he worried that maybe it was too soon altogether to ask you to go anywhere other than dinner or the movies.

“If that’s not something you like... I just thought…” he began to ramble, trying to redeem himself on his fumble.

“Flip,” you interrupted, immediately silencing the hulking ball of nerves beside you. “I’d actually really like to go camping with you.”

Breaking into a small smile, Flip felt a wave of relief come over him that you had agreed. He hated that he felt like such a blithering idiot half the time around you, always questioning why such a beautiful woman as yourself was hanging around the likes of him. Relaxing at your acceptance, he swung his arm back around you, allowing you to curl into his side again.    

***************************************************************************************

When Flip asked if you’d ever been camping before, you eagerly said yes, even if it had been a long while since you’d gone. Your family had taken you on summer road trips as a child; piling everyone into the nine passenger station wagon with a pop-up trailer hitched to the back and driving up north to a scenic state park. Your father and uncle would set up camp on the dirt plot, hooking the trailer up to the provided electrical outlets.  A shower area and general store were just a short walk down the paved road, where you and your cousins would stock up on bags of marshmallows to roast later over a fire. It was hardly roughing it in the wilderness, but you’d always enjoyed it nonetheless.

Never once did Flip mention that his definition of camping did not provide any modern amenities.

As Flip turned onto the unpaved road, the rusty Chevy bumped along causing you to hold onto the dashboard as best you could. After a few miles of rough terrain knocking your head against the ceiling of the truck when he hit a particularly deep divot in the road, he finally slowed to a stop, parking alongside a row of pines.

“Ready, sweetheart? It’s about a mile out to the lake from here.”

“A mile?” you blurted, staring at Flip as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “What I wouldn’t give for an ATV right about now.”

You muttered the last bit to yourself, but pretty sure you heard the soft rumbling of Flip’s laughter at your admission.  

Trusting that Flip knew what he was doing, you hopped down from the Chevy, grabbing your backpack from the bed and swinging it over your shoulder.  Flip gathered the rest of the items from the truck. Crossing the dusty road, you set off into the woods.

Flip made the trek seem easy, leading the way through what seemed to be an endless sprawl of forest. A few steps behind, you wondered how he was barely breaking a sweat even though he was carrying twice as much gear as you were. Flip was clearly in his element and you couldn’t help but admire how good he looked; plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows and rifle strapped to his shoulder.

“Where exactly are we going?” you questioned, catching up to Flip’s side as the trail finally widened enough to allow you to walk comfortably beside him.   

“It’s gonna be worth it, trust me.”

“It’d better be,” you hummed, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.  

“This is what I get for taking a city girl out in nature,” Flip joked playfully as he brushed a bit of stray hair out of your face that had worked itself loose along the way.

“Shush you,” you playfully nudged Flip’s arm. “There’s not as much city in me as you’d like to believe and besides, I wouldn’t want the mountain man I have with me to feel useless.”

“Is he cute?”

“Oh, very much so.”

The rest of the hike, Flip pointed out various things to you in the wilderness as you walked along. A rare black squirrel scampering up the side of a tree, the name of a distant bird that called out. Impressed with his knowledge, you hardly noticed the final ascent as you listened to him rattle off a list of things about the area with confidence. He clearly knew it well, which hardly surprised you. He’d grown up here, this was practically his backyard, even though it seemed like the farthest reaches of the earth to you.

The trees began to thin out as you reached the top of the hill, a large lake spanning out along with a breathtaking view.

“Worth the hike?”  

Pausing, you took in your new surroundings. You had never quite seen anything like it before. The lake glittered a deep blue in the sunlight, seeming to reach on forever. Mountains sloped up from either side of it’s banks, rolling off into the distance as far as the eye could see.

“It’s beautiful,” you commented, still in awe that such a spot existed.

“Good.  Cause this is our home away from home for the next few days.”      

Flip dropped his pack from his shoulders, leaning his rifle against a nearby tree.  Pacing a few times across the area, he determined the flattest spot for the tent, digging the item from his backpack and unfurling it on the ground. Making quick work in a matter of minutes, it was set up, followed by a small fire pit.  

“We’re going to need some firewood,” Flip noted, as he wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

Joining him in the nearby woods, you soon had an armful of fallen sticks and a few larger logs. Not being completely inept, you returned to the campsite, stacking them into the fire pit in the teepee shape your father had taught you long ago that would sustain the best fire.  Tucking some dried leaves and kindling around the base, you struck a match, stepping back as the fire caught, quickly spreading to the larger logs.

Flip couldn’t help to smile as he returned, a stack of logs of his own in his arms, at you sitting near the fire. Dropping the firewood to the ground near the fire pit, he kissed the top of your head.

“Not bad for a city girl.”

“I told you I wasn’t completely helpless.”

*****************************************************************************************

Daylight was already fading from the sky, casting hues of soft pinks and oranges over the still waters of the lake. The fire cracked and popped, burning strong and casting a warm light over the campsite. You helped Flip prepare dinner, adding spices to the cast iron pot he’d rigged over the fire as he stirred the ingredients to a simple, yet delicious meal. Laying out a blanket, he joined you as you sat down, warm bowl in hand.

You could get used to this, you thought as darkness fell around you. The first few stars began to twinkle in the inky black sky above. After cleaning up the dishes and packing them back away, Flip joined you near the fire. As it began to burn low in the small pit Flip had dug out to contain it, you noticed how quiet the woods were at night. Gone were the tweets of birds and rustling of forest animals through the underbrush. Your ears rang for a moment, unused to such silence. It was peaceful, yet eerie all at once, to be in such a secluded place. Pulling the over-sized flannel Flip had leant you closer around yourself, you shivered slightly in the cool night air. Leaning back against Flip, he wrapped his arms around you.

“Cold?” Flip asked, pulling you closer to his body from where you sat between his long legs.

“Just a little.” you admitted. Between the hike and the warmth of the sun, you had been almost too warm all day. As night fell, you realized you may have underestimated how quickly the temperature would drop at a higher elevation.  

“Think I could warm you up a little,” he purred into your ear, nipping at your lobe.

“You think so?” you hummed back, tilting your head back to look up at him.  

“I do.”

Catching you with a kiss, you wiggled a bit in Flip’s arms to turn yourself in his grasp. Straddling him, he let out a low moan as you settled yourself on his lap. He tasted of the spice from dinner, mingled with the tobacco from his last cigarette. Deepening the kiss, you ran your fingers through his hair, rocking your hips against him.

“Careful, sweetheart,” Flip warned as you twirled the long strands of his hair at the base of his neck.  

“Mmm, why’s that?” you cooed.  “Am I going to get myself in trouble?”

“There’s no one out here to hear me making you scream.”

More than once, your neighbors had pounded on the wall, warning you and Flip to quiet down. The apartment walls did little to contain the noise, much to their dismay. It took all of your willpower not to laugh the next day when Ms. Paterson from next door warned you that “next time I hear such a racket in the middle of the night, I’m calling the police.” Little did she know that it was law enforcement between your legs that was the cause for such a ruckus.

“I’d like to see you try,” you challenged Flip, rocking your hips once more against him for good measure. You could already feel he was hard, straining against his jeans. “Make me scream your name.”         

Letting out a strangled sound, Flip moved you from his lap, turning you on to your back.  Hovering above you, Flip ghosted his hands over your chest, palming at your breasts over the flannel. Diving towards your neck, he pressed his lips against you, nipping and sucking against your skin.

Flip hummed between kisses. “You are in so much trouble.”

“Have I been bad, officer?” you murmured as your back arched from the blanket and Flip pressed a line of kisses along your collarbone.   

“Fuck,” Flip groaned as he struggled to undo the buttons to your shirt. He desperately needed to feel the softness of your skin against his palm.

A low giggle escaped you, knowing that pushed Flip over the edge. Feeling his hand trail down your stomach he dipped between your legs. Pressing against your center, you took a deep breath as Flip rubbed his hand over the fabric of your pants. While it felt good, you needed more. Reaching down, you unbuttoned the top of your jeans, Flip’s fingers quick to join, pushing the fabric down your legs.

Feeling the cold night air hit against your wet center, you stiffened for a second at the sensation. Flip wasted no time in pressing a warm finger against you, teasing you slowly as he circled your folds before dipping inside. Grasping his shoulders, you exhaled as he began working in and out of you at a torturous pace, adding a second and then a third. Goosebumps prickled against your skin, the mixture of pleasure and the chill of the mountain air cascading over you. Flip continued, pumping his hand rhythmically as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were lost in the feeling, his thick fingers working you as his thumb circled your clit.  Nearly there you were teetering on edge when the loss of contact made your eyes fly open and suck in a deep breath, as Flip pulled his hand away.

“Think I was going to let you come that easily?” Flip smirked, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with a pop.

Giving Flip a sly smile, you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. Teasing him, you licked a stripe up the side of his neck. Salty and sweet, you relished the taste of him. Biting his neck, he let out a low groan. You were easily going to be the death of him and he wasn’t complaining in the slightest that this was how he was going to go.           

“Are you going to cuff me, officer? you teased, letting go of Flip’s shirt to stretch your arms above you.  “Wouldn’t want me to get away now would you?”

Pinning your wrists in his grasp, Flip held you steady with his large hand. “I’m off duty, sweetheart. Plus there’s no headboard to cuff you to.”

“But sir,” you mockingly protest, playing into Flip’s current conundrum. “I’m sure you could find some way to restrain me.”  

Ever the quick thinking boy scout, Flip pushed the flannel shirt from your shoulders, making quick work of knotting the fabric tightly around your wrists. Satisfied with his handiwork, Flip ran his hand down your chest, delighting in how your body arched into his touch, begging for more.

Fumbling with his belt buckle, Flip wasn’t sure he still had the necessary motor skills left to work the leather free from his waist. Managing to get it undone, he unzipped his pants, taking himself out in his palm. Pumping himself a few times, his hand felt useless, especially as you were splayed out before him, legs parted, waiting eagerly for him to sink into you. Lining up to your entrance, Flip could barely breathe as he slipped into you. He would never grow tired of the soft exhale you made as he sunk deeper into you, steadying his hands against the blanket, careful not to crush you with his weight as he began to move.

Soon finding a rhythm, Flip rocked against you, driving deep as your hips snapped to meet each of his thrusts.  

“Let me hear you,” Flip encouraged. “Be a good girl for me.”

Struggling against the fabric bonds, tight around your wrists, you tried to wiggle free but to no avail. The sensation of restriction only added to your pleasure as the flannel dug against your skin. You cried out into the night as Flip thrust into you.

“Fuck! Flip, please!”

“Please what?” he asked, his voice low and thick.

“Please,” you begged.  “Please fuck me harder.”

“Careful what you wish for sweetheart.”   

Withdrawing from you, Flip grasped your hips, flipping you to your knees. Faltering for a second, you steadied yourself as best you could on your bound wrists. Feeling his weight against your back, Flip reached around you, tearing the knotted shirt free allowing your hands to plant flat against the blanket.

“You look fucking beautiful like this,” Flip confessed, taking in the sight of you bent before him, your thighs slick with your arousal dripping from your center.

Giving your ass a firm slap, Flip let out a growl as he dove towards you, licking a long stripe against you with his tongue. Shuddering, your fingers grasped the blanket, desperately trying to hold onto anything that would ground you as Flip continued to lap at you. As he circled his tongue, you let out a cry, unable to contain the sounds you were so used to keeping quiet. Continuing on, Flip worked you until you were trembling, on the brink of collapsing, your arms weak from holding yourself up.  

Pulling back from you, Flip’s chin glistened in the pale moonlight that blanketed your surroundings. Hardly fazed by the mess, Flip took hold of your hips once again, guiding you back as he pushed into you.

“Flip!” you moaned as his cock sunk deep within you. Wrapping an arm around your middle, he leaned down against your back, pulling you close as he rocked back and forth in time with your movements against him.

“Such a good, good girl for me,” Flip murmured, his voice deep as his pressed his lips against your cheek. “Just like that darling,” he encouraged.  

[imagine-loki]

Long And Lost

TITLE: Long And Lost

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 16

AUTHOR: FadingCoast

PROMT/ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being Loki’s old friend/Lover in Asgard, but you left for Earth a long time ago. For all he knows, you might be dead, but you’re still alive and you’ve been working with SHIELD and/or the Avengers.

PAIRING: Loki/Sigyn

RATING: Mature.

NOTES/WARNINGS: Sexual innuendos (no explicit sex) / mentions of torture and brainwashing. The prologue is set right before Avengers. The first chapters are set after Civil War. Chapter 4 and on, are all during Ragnarok.

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Feedback is always appreciated

.-

Ch.16: No more dreaming of the dead

Thor hadn’t spent half a day in Sakaar and already he has been attacked, shot at, electrocuted, microwaved, tortured and sold as a slave.

His father was dead, his hammer destroyed. Asgard was under the control of his evil sister and he was stuck on this planet on the edge of the universe. At least Loki was alive, but right now he doubted he could be of any help.

He knelt in the cell, facing the wall. He thought of his parents. He had lost them both in such a short time. Frigga’s death was still fresh and painful, no matter how beautiful her ceremony was, her death was untimely. His father at least had chosen to go on his own terms, but he had been away from home.

“Odin…” Thor started, doing the only thing he could do at the moment to honor his father’s memory and to bring some relief to himself. “I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla… Where the brave shall live forever. Nor shall we mourn but rejoice,” he breathed out. “…for those that have died the glorious death.”

“…for those that have died the glorious death.” Loki finished the prayer with his brother.

Thor turned around and sat against the wall, staring daggers at Loki.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Loki said. “Being lied to. Being told you’re one thing and then learning it’s all a fiction.”

Thor picked up some of the stones that littered the floor and threw them at his brother. They went right through. It made Thor rolls his eyes. Loki groaned.

“You didn’t think I’d really come and see you, did you? This place is disgusting.”

Thor still said nothing, and kept throwing stones to a less than amused Loki.

“Does this mean you don’t want my help?” Loki taunted him. “Look, I couldn’t jeopardize my position with Grandmaster, it took me time to win his trust. He’s a lunatic, but he can be amenable.” Loki put his hands behind his back and studied Thor. He knew Thor wanted to go back, and whether he liked it or not, he also had to go. “I know you’re thinking of going back.” Thor looked at Loki curiously this time. “I’m just trying to make sure you understand what it is we’re up against here: Our sister destroyed your hammer like a piece of glass. That makes her stronger than both of us. As you are, you don’t stand a chance. Do you understand what I’m saying to you? You aren’t in a position of kicking your way back.”

Thor just scowled. Maybe he does understand what Loki is saying, but plotting and scheming weren’t things Thor was inclined to do in any situation.

“Fine.” Loki said, sort of defeated. “If we are going back to Asgard–”

“You want to go back?” Thor finally spoke. Loki just raised an eyebrow. “After all you did?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let me see… You faked your own death, you stole the throne, stripped Odin of his power, stranded him on Earth to die, releasing the Goddess of Death.” Thor said. “Have I said enough, or do you do you want me to go further back than the past two days?” He buffed. “All of this is your fault, as usual.”

Loki’s eyes burned. For once, he wished he was in that disgusting cell, just to punch Thor in the face. Thor stared coldly at him.

“Of course you’d say that.” Loki said, composing himself. “Anyway… I’ve tried to find out about this champion you’re supposed to fight. But the only information I’ve gathered is that he is massive, deadly and savage. Do me a favor and don’t die.”

Thor hurled a particularly big stone at Loki’s head. The illusion disappeared as the rock sank on the opposite wall.

“You do have anger management issues.”

“For Bor’s sake!” Thor said, terribly frustrated, and looked at the woman that had materialized by his side.

“Relax, Thor. I’m just here to pay my respects. I know how hard it is to lose one’s family.” Sigyn said. Thor sighed in defeat. In his grief, he hadn’t stopped to think about the extended family they had lost.

“Thank you.” Thor muttered.

“ And by that I meant Frigga, by the way.” Sigyn pointed out, Thor scoffed.

“Well, after everything I cannot expect you to have any love for Odin.”

“I never did.” She shrugged. “Not after the way he treated Loki his whole life. So I cannot exactly say that his passing saddens me.”

Thor shifted uncomfortably. “Why come back when you found him then? You could’ve killed him… Loki’s spells would’ve been nothing to you.”

“Loki could’ve killed him too, you know? But he didn’t.” Sigyn said, Thor hung his head. “I came back because of who else could find him.” She added. “Hela is the most immediate of your problems, but you know is not the only one.”

“One crisis at the time, sister.” Thor said with a sad smile. “Think Loki will actually help?”

“Loki always does what he wants.” She rolled her eyes. “It would be stupid to try and change his mind.” She took a deep breath. “But right now, he has to go back to Asgard. So he needs you, and you need him.”

“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know him.” Thor said with a sigh. “How do I know if I can trust him?” It wasn’t a question Thor wanted answered, so Sigyn kept silent. “Why does he need to go back?”

Sigyn smirked. “He has his reasons.”

“But you know.”

“Of course I do.”

Thor half smiled. “How will I ever deal with the two of you again?”

“The same way you did for 600 years on Asgard.” Sigyn said with a smile of her own.

Thor sat quietly for a moment, pondering on Loki’s words. He didn’t like it, but Loki was right. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he felt a little jealous of Sigyn’s relationship with his brother. “You always knew what to do with him.” He added. “Since we were kids, you just– get each other.”

“That’s because I took the time to get him. You never wanted to get him.” She said. “You were happy with your role and the privileges attached to them, so you grew blind to what was going on with Loki.” Her illusion shifted to be sitting in front of Thor. “Odin was never a great father to him, and you know why.”

“Cause he wasn’t his son.” He muttered.

“Loki had to perform to your level without any of the rewards. And if he did succeed, it didn’t matter. You were always going to have the upper hand.” Sigyn bit her lip. “Now, you get to feel a little bit of what he felt when he found out, and you still blame him.”

Thor stiffened a bit, feeling a faint blush on his cheeks. “Well, he has done some stupid things…”

“Haven’t we all?” Sigyn smirked.

Thor exhaled loudly and leaned back. “Is he going to take me out of here?”

“Thor, I might be a witch, but I can only see like 30 seconds into the future.” She said. “I think you’ll have to get yourself out of here.”

“Will he be able to get us back to Asgard?”

“That I know he will. Maybe even with some friends.” She added, looking at a confused Thor. “Look around you, Thor. You’re not alone in here.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“That you use that you’re good at. Punch your way out of this and win.”

.-

Back in the training room, Sigyn sparred with Bucky.

The time difference she and Loki had made it hard to keep up with everything that was happening in Sakaar. Training with Bucky gave her something to keep her head clear.

So far she had learned through Loki that the Hulk was the famous Sakaar champion everyone was afraid of (she even made a mental note to tell Steve about it). Thor had fought him and won. The Grandmaster didn’t keep his promise to release him, so Thor escaped. Loki was desperate, and the Grandmaster wasn’t very happy with him.

If I can’t find that stupid oaf…

Relax, you will find him.

Sigyn and Bucky took a break. His arm needed some minor adjustments. She allowed herself to enjoy a cup of tea, until she felt an exhilaration that wasn’t hers. Loki was fighting someone.

I found a Valkyrie!

What?

This woman I’m fighting! She’s a Valkyrie!

Get inside her head!

Loki was a bit thrown off by Sigyn’s suggestion. This allowed the Valkyrie to knock him off balance and catch him against the wall.

“I thought the Valkyrie all died gruesome deaths?” He said with a hint of a smirk.

“Choose your next words wisely” The woman pressed her knee against his chest.

“I’m terribly sorry… Must be a painful memory.”

Using one of his favorite tricks, Loki put his hand on the Valkyrie’s head and focused his power on her. Her eyes went blank and her mind showed him her worst memories. A whole army of Valkyries attacking Hela. The goddess destroying them one by one. Their white horses slain. The floor flooded with blood. The sacrifice of one of her own to push her back home. The shame of being the only one left alive, and nothing left to lose.

Hmm, she might be of some use. Lose.

What?

Did you not see all that? She might help you. Let her beat you.

You do know how to improve my selfconfidence.

She has a better chance of finding Thor as well.

I am going to regret this.

He didn’t like it, but Sigyn had a point. As soon as the Valkyrie recovered from Loki’s attack on her brain, she turned even more aggressive. With only a couple of moves, she was overpowering him. Accepting defeat, Loki let her knock him out.

.-

Skimming through Ragnarok like 80% of that movie did not happen! xDD

[megwcitycourse]

The Double Life of a College Town

From 2010 until 2018 (with the exception of 10 months in 2012-2013 when I studied abroad in Barcelona) I lived in Urbana, Illinois, USA. This (unremarkable to most of the world) small city has an estimated population of 42,214 (U.S. Census Bureau, Urbana) but sits attached to Champaign with another 88,909 (U.S. Census Bureau, Champaign). While I lived almost exclusively in Urbana, the truth is that the two cities mostly behave as one, whether you call it Champaign-Urbana or Urbana/Champaign or Chambana or Bubble City, etc. (That last one is mostly a gimmick name used for events. Champaign - Champagne - get it?)

Cronin (2006) links his micro-cosmopolitanism to fractal differentialism. He explains, “This term expresses the notion of a cultural complexity which remains constant from the micro to the macro scale. That is to say, the same degree of diversity is to be found at the level of entities judged to be small or insignificant as at the level of large entities” (15).

Champaign-Urbana is mostly known for being the home of the main campus of the University of Illinois, which is my alma mater (I’m told that’s a very American phrase). A large research university of over 50,000 students (“UIUC”), it dominates the twin cities while simultaneously being somewhat discrete from the surrounding area. Champaign and Urbana are technically two cities - Champaign-Urbana is also two cities in a more figurative sense. You have students, and you have townies. You have Campustown, and you have downtown Champaign or Urbana (on either side). I’ve always kind of straddled the two - I joined a group soon after coming to the University that was comprised of both students and townies and I made friends with both. Went to parties off campus and attended classes on. While I was a student, I lived in both Champaign-Urbanas.

I cited Cronin above to highlight the reason why I gave the population sizes of Champaign and Urbana in the first paragraph. I wanted to illustrate that, despite its significantly smaller size than any of the world’s major cities, Champaign/Urbana exhibits many of the same tensions we would expect from places like Toronto, Chicago, London, Tokyo, etc. We can even find some of these tensions just within the University’s campus.

In “Serendipitous City: In Search of an Aleatory Urbanism,” Mervyn Horgan (2014) gives us the “city of birds” and the “city of worms,” two representational modes accounting for different methods in urban studies. Of the city of birds, he writes, “the urban is treated as an object to be described and known through accurate and complete description of what is objectively available and analyzable” (64). By contrast, “In the city of worms, the urban is treated as a subject to be interpreted and understood.” Put another way, “Where the city of birds is populated, the city of worms is peopled” (67). From the city of birds, we get disciplines such as urban planning and demography, whereas the city of worms gives us ethnography and literature (69).

For about a year, I was majoring in Computer Science (until I realized I was not very good at it and did not, in fact, want to spend the rest of my working life doing it). I was also taking German at the time, and between the two classes, I had a bit of a walk across campus, from the southeast corner of the Main Quad to the east side of the Engineering Quad (map below - the Foreign Languages Building, or FLB, is crudely circled in blue and the Siebel Center for Computer Science in red).

(Google Maps)

I took this walk up Mathews Avenue a couple of times a week, and at some point I realized that there was a noticeable demographic shift as I moved from the Main Quad (housing primarily the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences) to the Engineering Quad. Slowly but surely, the students I passed by trended more male. An unfortunate side effect of the (improving, but still prevalent) dominance of men in the engineering disciplines. I was never the only woman in my computer science classes, but it was usually in the single digits, and it showed when I crossed Green Street to arrive on the engineering side of the U of I campus. I see this experience as a meeting of Horgan’s “city of birds” and “city of worms.” In a small city like Champaign-Urbana - in an even smaller “city” like the UIUC campus - you can see how the demographic makeup shifts on just a ten-minute walk.

The buildings around me also changed on this little walk - noticeably more money has been spent on the engineering programs on campus compared to the liberal arts. You can see it in the more modern buildings full of metal and glass and new, functioning equipment, compared to FLB, a building I had most of my courses in and later worked in for about a year and a half, a brick building with a chilly basement and old carpeting, and three usually-working laptops that I had to loan out to grad students who didn’t have their own. Granted, computers are slightly less important to non-computer science students, but, in this day and age, only slightly. More on this dichotomy a bit later on.

Even more stark than the shift in gender demographics from one side of campus to the other was the shift between on and off campus demographics. I moved into an apartment off campus in 2011 and got a car around the same time. Experiencing Champaign/Urbana by car was a whole different world from on foot. Though the areas closest to campus were still dominated by students, the farther away I got, the more variety I saw in the age range of the pedestrians. I also noted a drop in the number of pedestrians overall (this was the reason I frequently stated that I hated driving on campus), as well as a decline in how pedestrian friendly the streets were. Interestingly enough, despite the abundance of crosswalks on campus, jaywalking seemed equally rampant just about everywhere. (Keep jaywalking in mind - I’m going to mention it later on.)

The types of cars I tended to see also changed depending on whether I was in Campustown or elsewhere. Campustown, being prime real estate for proximity to the main campus as well as to bars and restaurants, was (increasingly, as the years went on) full of expensive high rises boasting as many amenities as possible to students who could afford to take advantage. I pulled the image below from the 309 Green website (this was one of the high rises that has been there since I moved to town - several others cropped up later):

(“309 Green”)

I won’t say all of the buildings in Campustown had a pool, but most of them had advertising materials that looked roughly like this. With most off campus apartments, you’d be lucky if they had their own website with more than a couple of photos, and they certainly didn’t come with high-speed internet, central A/C, washer and dryer, fitness center, etc. And while I drove in Campustown only a few times a month, every time, I could tell exactly where I was by both the number of pedestrians and the luxury cars that surrounded my humble Honda.

According to Myria Georgiou (2014), top-down (or hegemonic) cosmopolitanism “represents the project of the neoliberal city… enabled through the close collaboration of local and national government and corporate interests.” On the other hand, “Vernacular cosmopolitanism is about hospitality, which, though conditional… makes the urban landscape’s history and present always a history-in-the-making, a history of newcomers” (65).

I’ve seen echoes of this dichotomy both on the UIUC campus and in Champaign-Urbana more broadly. Near the afore-mentioned FLB is a row of buildings on Nevada Street referred to as the “cultural houses”. Here’s why:

(Google Maps)

That brick one on the right is the Native American House, the pale yellow one on the left is La Casa Cultural Latina. The Departments of Gender and Women’s Studies, Asian American Studies, and African American Studies are also on this street. The idea here is that students of all kinds feel welcome, have a “home” (never mind the graffiti that started showing up outside of La Casa right around, oh, 2016 or so). There’s a bit of irony in having a “Native American House” right in the middle of Kiikaapoi, Miami, Peoria, and Očeti Šakówiŋ lands, but that’s a another post ("Native Land”). (Spoiler alert: the U of I doesn’t have a great history [or present] when it comes to respecting indigenous peoples.)

Then, we have the Siebel Center:

(Ngo 2014)

It’s a hulking mass of a building compared to those cultural houses, full of the kind of money the University and its donors are willing to spend on the Computer Science program (one of the top ten in the country). These buildings and the university departments associated with them serve as UIUC’s “neighborhoods,” and in them we can see the way a city’s tensions play out on a more micro scale. The examples I’ve given here are by no means exhaustive, but I believe they provide a taste of the unique experience of living in a college town.

Off campus, we have a perhaps more traditional, obvious example of hegemonic vs. vernacular cosmopolitanism: the two malls. First, in northern Champaign, there is the Market Place Mall, a traditional shopping center with stores like Bergner’s, JC Penney, Claire’s, Hot Topic, Kay Jewelers, etc. The fact that it is exactly the kind of mall you can find in most US towns makes it, much like Westfield Stratford City, as discussed by Georgiou, “mediated, controlled, commodified.” She says, “Westfield Stratford City is both indistinguishable from other spaces of global consumption and a very specific place…” (54) Indistinguishable though it may be from other places of this type, the Market Place Mall remains a destination for locals and people from the surrounding towns to shop, meet, and eat – much like any other mall.

The Lincoln Square Mall, in downtown Urbana, is much more vernacular in its cosmopolitanism. Aside from several empty storefronts, it is filled with local businesses and organizations including a small art supply store, an organic food co-op, a record shop, a church, and several martial arts/fitness studios. The few restaurants are locally owned – not a Panda Express or Auntie Anne’s Pretzels in sight. Unfortunately, it is clear that Lincoln Square does not benefit from attracting patrons from the surrounding towns in the way that Market Place does. This is not a mall that people go to just to hang out or browse. If you’re at Lincoln Square, it’s probably for a specific reason (the food co-op and the gym are the most popular destinations) and you aren’t likely to spend time just walking around the way you might at a more typical mall. However, it seems to keep itself afloat by engaging with the community. Events such as Pridefest are hosted there each year, and during the warmer months, you can visit the Urbana Farmers’ Market (another example of the vernacular) in the parking lot.

“...what most vividly characterizes the colonial city is its spatial segregation. Such separation is a powerful visual illustration of the ‘paradoxical unity’ of cities, where populations mingle on the streets and yet lead culturally separate lives” (Simon 2006, 22).

At the beginning of this essay, I alluded to the separation between students and townies. “Town-gown” relations are known to be troubled in many college towns, though some universities have taken steps to address the problem. Joshua J. Yates and Michaela Accardi studied this problem in 2019 and published their findings as the “Field Guide for Urban University-Community Partnerships.” While they identified ten universities with innovative community engagement programs (23), they also note that only 16 out of the 100 universities surveyed have a “governance structure inclusive of community members” (21). Regrettably, data for individual universities was not included in the guide, so I am uncertain of where the U of I falls in their evaluation. However, speaking from personal experience, I can say that I do not feel that the University encourages its students to engage with the Champaign/Urbana community. I did because I joined a mixed group soon after becoming a student there, so I straddled the line between students and townies for a long time. (I would say I went “full townie” after I left that group in 2015.) That said, the only time I was ever required to do community service (which is not, by any means, the end all be all of community engagement) was during my brief stint in the Air Force Reserve Officer Training Corps.

Price (2019), citing Abdelhafid Khatib, writes, “...social location and how you are identified matters in how you move, where you move, with what safety or danger, and that, in turn, has consequences for what you see and perceive” (76).

I’m going to get a bit political here and talk about 2016 and its aftermath. When the US presidential election took place, ending with the election of Donald Trump, Champaign/Urbana was a city divided (and you could hear it on local public radio the next morning). While it is, overall, a dot of blue in a sea of red (those are swapped from what they mean in Canada), the surrounding rural area’s influence can be seen outside of campus (as can the influence of the wealthy white Chicago suburbs that send students to UIUC). At the time, I was working for a local academic publisher and conference producer in what is called Research Park. Research Park is technically part of the U of I campus, though it is not near any residential or academic buildings. It houses both startups and branches of larger companies and is mainly tech-oriented. The company that I worked for skewed very millennial, female, and liberal, and the whole office took on a somber mood in the days following the election. That first day was a mess of tears, ranting, and not much work getting done. Our bosses made a point of checking in on how we were holding up. This was a place where everyone at least appeared to be on the same page, politically, and we all felt a little safer because of it. Personally, because I felt that visibility was important, I chose this time to start being a little more open about being a queer person, and I found it to be a non-issue among this set of coworkers.

Unfortunately, because there are plenty of things aside from politics that can make a job turn sour, I left that company towards the end of 2017 and had to head back to the retail world to make ends come anywhere near meeting. What I found there, in northern Champaign, near the Market Place Mall, was a world very different from the one in which I had been living for the past seven years. Though I wasn’t vocal about my political leanings, I didn’t lie about them either, and that earned me a fair amount of “jokes” and “teasing” (none of which seemed especially funny) from some of my superiors. They, in their positions of power over me, did not seem to understand why such behavior might be inappropriate, and it made more than one day at that job feel nearly like a hostile environment. It never escalated to a point where I felt like any potential retribution I might face was worth a report to Human Resources, but it was the closest I came to facing the urban/rural dichotomy of Champaign/Urbana head-on. By contrast with my publishing job, I did not feel safe outing myself as queer with the majority of these coworkers.

But then, by focusing on my own experience, I am still missing something. In his discussion of translation-as-tuning-in, Price talks about experience-near and experience-distant concepts. He explains, “If you try and reach for a person’s own schema, then you are focused on... ‘experience-near’ concepts; if you go for the abstract, disciplinary categories, and concepts foreign to what a social agent would recognize, then you are using ‘experience-distant’ concepts” (71).

It is one thing for me to recognize that a person of color or a disabled person or a trans person (especially one using a name and pronouns other than their legal ones) might have had an even more hostile experience at that retail workplace (and even, to an extent, at the predominantly white publishing company), and it is quite another for me to “tune in” to the everyday reality of such existences. I could say the same of my experiences as a student at the University. I felt safe there most of the time. How did my Latinx classmates feel when “Build the Wall” chalkings started appearing on campus in 2016 (including right outside of La Casa Cultural Latina - a deliberate act of intimidation)? How did my indigenous classmates feel when being asked to root for the “Fighting Illini?” (Illini refers to the Illinois Confederation, representing about a dozen indigenous tribes from the area [”The Illinois”].) Or when, nearly 15 years after the retirement of Chief Illiniwek (a “mascot” that involved a white student dressing in pseudo-ceremonial garb and performing a pseudo-ceremonial dance), local news outlets still stir up the debate on a regular basis via social media? What about the fact that Black people make up 16% of the population in Champaign/Urbana but the vast majority of arrests (yes, arrests) for jaywalking (88% in Champaign and 91% in Urbana) (Rosen 2012)?

Reaching for these experiences and trying to internalize them is something you might not expect a person from a small town to have any need to do, but, as I cited Cronin near the beginning of this post, the diversity that you see at the macro level also exists at the micro level. Champaign/Urbana has tensions between urban and rural, students and townies, racial tensions, gender disparities, and socio-economic divides, despite containing fewer than 150,000 people, compared to the millions in some of the biggest cities. College towns are their own unique animal with a double life unlike any other kind of city.

References

“309 Green.” 2020. Apartments Near UIUC | 309 Green | Champaign, IL. American Campus Communities. Accessed August 13, 2020. https://www.americancampus.com/student-apartments/il/champaign/309-green#amenities.

Cronin, Michael. 2006. “Translation and the New Cosmopolitanism.” In Translation and Identity, 6-40. London: Routledge.

Georgiou, Myria. 2014. “Consumption: The Hegemonic and the Vernacular.” In Media and the City: Cosmopolitanism and Difference, 44–65. Chichester: Polity Press.

Google Maps. Google. Accessed August 3, 2020. https://maps.google.com/.

Horgan, Mervyn. 2014. “Serendipitous City: In Search of Aleatory Urbanism.” In Cartographies of Place: Navigating the Urban, edited by Michael Darroch and Janine Marchessault, 55–76. Montreal: McGill-Queen's University Press.

“The Illinois: Identity.” 2000. MuseumLink Illinois. Illinois State Museum. http://www.museum.state.il.us/muslink/nat_amer/post/htmls/il_id.html.

“Native Land.” n.d. Map. Native Land. Native Land Digital. Accessed August 3, 2020. https://native-land.ca/.

Ngo, Johnny. 2014. “Computer Science - Rise in Popularity and Plagiarism.” Uloop. Uloop Inc. October 5, 2014. https://www.uloop.com/news/view.php/138163/Computer-Science---Rise-in-Popularity-and-Plagiarism.

Price, Joshua Martin. 2019. “Taking Sides: Urban Wandering as a Decolonial Translation Practice in the Americas.” Tusaaji: A Translation Review 7 (1): 68–83. doi:10.25071/1925-5624.40385.

Rosen, Rebecca J. 2012. “In Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, 89% of Those Arrested for Jaywalking Are Black.” The Atlantic, August 24. https://www.theatlantic.com/technology/archive/2012/08/in-champaign-urbana-illinois-89-of-those-arrested-for-jaywalking-are-black/261522/.

Simon, Sherry. 2006. Translating Montreal: Episodes in the Life of a Divided City. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press.

“UIUC Student Enrollment by Curriculum and Student Level Fall 2019.” 2019. University of Illinois Division of Management Information. September 9, 2019. https://www.dmi.illinois.edu/stuenr/class/enrfa19.htm.

U.S. Census Bureau. 2019. “U.S. Census Bureau QuickFacts: Champaign City, Illinois.” 2019. https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/urbanacityillinois.

U.S. Census Bureau. 2019. “U.S. Census Bureau QuickFacts: Urbana City, Illinois.” 2019. https://www.census.gov/quickfacts/champaigncityillinois.

Yates, Joshua J., and Michaela Accardi. 2019. Field Guide for Urban University-Community Partnerships. Charlottesville: Institute for Advanced Studies in Culture.