#or maybe I wanna add on so I reblog it onto my page | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pxgeturner · 10 months ago

Text

Miguel O'Hara is a world-renowned professional boxer, and Hobie's other best friend. One night he finally makes the two worlds collide and sparks immediately fly between the two of you. But will he distract you from meeting your publisher's deadline? And will you distract him from getting World Champ?

before you follow. m.list. Iron Fist gfx library. series m.list. tag list.

Prologue. I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. Epilogue.

wc. 1.5k

an. hi. its me! Giselle, or gi, or gigi to few (not to be confused w gg, that is one of my moots. she makes really cool art.) n e ways here is the awaited Prologue for Iron Fist. Oh goodness I'm so nervous. I just want to make a few things clear. the reader is an author (obvs). She's recently graduated uni and is Latina! I write with a woc!r in mind always. I try to be as inclusive as possible, pero porque soy Mexicana, r might lean towards being more Mexican but I'll try to keep her Spanish standard and not be too specific to my family's culture. much love! hope you enjoy <3

please don't forget to reblog! likes do nothing to boost engagement.

Your foot taps against the floor. The damn blank document stares back at you. Mocking you is what it’s really doing. Fuck you, you think, I achieved my goal. I published a book and it is a damn bestseller! Only problem is that the readers want more. It’s been… some time since your first book. And sure, Jess said you can take a break before starting a new project. But you also know that it’s good to ride on existing publicity. At least be able to make an announcement that you’re writing something while all this excitement lasts. Maybe you should write something about vampires. You love vampires and how they fit into romance and how them drinking blood is a euphemism just a bit away from, the whole cannibalism-equals-all-consuming-love trope and how when a vampire attacks it’s often an allegory for rape and— but you have nothing to add to the conversation. You have nothing new to say, no new perspective or hot take, or twist. You have nothing. No ideas.

Not a single word on the page.

You have an idea, leaning forward to peck the keyboard. “F-u-c-k. T-h-i-s!” You highlight the text and italicize it.

Fuck this. At least it’s words on the page.

You reach for your cup and take a sip. “If all else fails I can ride on the rest of the signing bonus and royalties for a bit since the book is doing good, and once that dries up, I can apply to be circulation assistant at a library or something.” You sigh and take another sip. “But nobody has to know for now.” You get up, searching for your phone. You find it resting on the arm of the couch, you grab it, sliding onto the cushions, resting your head where your phone just was. “God, don’t make me a one hit wonder, I wanna be a star. I wanna be the one to push that bitch Colleen Hoover into obsoletion. Please God. Please.”

You open your phone and look for your mother on speed dial.

“Hola, nena!” Your mama’s voice is happy, she must be having a good day. You move into the kitchen. You need a snack.

“Hey, mama, how are you?” You hold the cell with your shoulder as you look through your pantry.

“Good, good,” you find a pack of roasted seaweed snacks and grab it.

“I went on a date anoche.” Your shoulder drops and the pack of seaweed slips out of your grasp.

Mi mami fue a una cita. Con un man! You stand there, trying to process that she is actually back on the dating scene.

“How did it—” you aren’t holding your phone anymore. You use the wall as support to lower yourself to pick up your phone and snack.

“—ay, mami, lo siento, mi cellular se cayo de mi mano.”

“Todo bien, hija! I’m glad you’re ok.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok, I’m ok. Anyways— how was the date? What’s he like? Am I going to have a stepfather soon?” you joke.

“My time for marriage is gone, muñeca, I’m just looking for companionship, pero, tu lo sabes.” You hear some subtle clinking in the background of the call, she must be stirring her coffee. You open your snack and park yourself on the couch. “Are you writing?” Ugh. Not you, too.

“I was, just finished for a bit before I called you.”

“You called me to procrastinate.” You choke on your seaweed from the accusation.

You clear your throat, “I called to check in with you. I call you practically every day.”

“But right now you called me to check up on me as an excuse to not write. Nena, I know you.”

“Okay, fine. I might be having some writer’s block,” you admit, sighing.

“And that’s okay, nena, but then you need to get out, get some inspiration. Allow the world to give you a story.” There’s mama, with her easier-said-than-done advice. But, maybe you should get out of the house.

“Alright, I’ll go out soon.”

“Tonight,”

“—I will go out to the Chinese place across the street and nothing more. I’ll talk with Hobie when he gets back to see if he has any ideas.” You hear your mama make a noise in her throat.

“You still live with that boy?” Here it comes. You’ve lived with Hobie Brown for three years and have known him for five. She’s always been apprehensive of him, since he’s radical and looks like he’s been in jail, with all the metal in his face, and why does his hair look like that? But Hobie is the one who’s kept you sane all these years. He’s held you while you cried and pushed out of your comfort zone when you were getting too stuck into your routines, most likely by dragging you to a concert or a protest. You help him thrift and flip clothes and ever since that one time his stylist had an emergency and canceled, you now help him tighten his wicks every so often. On days like that the two of you stay in, watching nostalgic movies and listening to any demos he’s recorded recently. He’s like a brother to you at this point.

“Yes, mama, I still live with Hobie. Nothing’s changed.” You move the phone down to your chest and take a deep breath.

“I didn’t like him when I first met him,” you clench your jaw as she continues— “…and although he’s one of those kids, I can tell he is a good boy. I’m glad he takes care of you.” You relax. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have someone you could kiss.” “It would be nice, but right now it’s not happening.” “Alright, muñeca. I’ll leave you alone for now, but keep your eyes open for a nice man.”

“I will, con cuidado, mami, besitos.” You make a kissing noise into the phone, and she responds with a goodbye of her own, and you wait for her to hang up the call.

You sigh, and look at the coffee table. Hobie left his song book at home, weird. It’s open to the song he was working on the other day. It’s a slower song, you can still hear the melody. You drum your fingers to the tune. He’s on an unfinished verse. You pick up a pen from the little catch-all dish and scribble down a line or two.

…

Hobie weaves through the roar of chattering, anticipating fans and into the tunnel, and walks past employees and into Miguel's prep room to see him tying his shoes. “Hey,” Miguel looks up. “Hey.”

“Are you excited?” He moves to sit by the boxer, shimmying up against his shoulder.

“Haven’t really been excited for one of these in a while.” Miguel breathes.

“Well, one step closer to retirement!” Hobie bounces out of his seat. He turns to face his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna do great, you big fuckin’ bear of a man.” He ruffle’s Miguel’s hair.

Miguel gives a half-ass hum in response.

“Well then, I’ll be out there, mate, cheerin’ you on.” He puts his hands in his vest pockets and walks out the room.

As he reaches the empty doorframe, Miguel speaks up. “Thank you, Hobie.”

“Anything for you, mate.” Hobie nods and goes to join the audience. Miguel fastens his gloves and puts on his robe. He warms up waiting for his coach.

“Ready, O’Hara?”

Miguel turns around. “Always ready for a fight.” He clenches his jaw. Walking down that hallway, the festive colors lighting up his path and the music blaring, he does his little bit, the movements molded into muscle memory.

This is it. This is his last year fighting. If he gets world champ again, he’s free.

Soon, he gets to fight his last fight. And dammit, the world championship will be his last match. Then, he’s never gonna have to come back.

He weaves under the ropes, entering the ring. Sitting on the stool, he shrugs off the robe and lets Carlos put the mouthguard in.

“You are going to show this guy exactly why people call you el oso!” Miguel beats his gloves together and nods. He might not like his job right now, but he really wants to hit something and goddammit if his opponent doesn’t look so beatable right now.

Coach Carlos steps out of the way, and Miguel stands to walk to the ref as he calls for him to center.

“We went over the rules in the dressing room.” Right before Hobie got here. “I want to remind you to protect yourself at all times, and obey my commands.” Ring the damn bell already. “God bless you both,” I don’t need it but this kid might. “Touch up,” here we go. He touches gloves with his newbie opponent and each goes back to their respective corners.

Miguel takes an orthodox stance.

The bell rings.

Miguel lands the first punch. He also lands the last.

128 notes · View notes

honeyhotteoks · 2 months ago

Note

in the spirit of the writers' game (except its not actually a question so no presh) do you have any tips on getting integrated into fandom community? i have like 12 bajillion fic ideas bumping around in my head that i wanna gab to someone about but i dont know how i'd like.. get someone's attention without it being.. weird? or like manufactured... i'm reticent to post because so much attention spooks me Out of writing which is like, not the end goal lol

tldr how do i make friends please and thanks but in the least pathetic way possible

this is a great question!! i'll be honest with you, i'm not sure if i'm the best person to answer this, but i'll do my best.

for some context, i'm actually very introverted. i really struggle to make friends both online and in real life. while most of my meaningful friendships are fandom based, typically it's because a pretty extroverted person snapped me up and then i got comfy talking, not really from me doing the outreach first.

when it comes to writing and a writing community, i'm also pretty insulated. i would love to be friends with some of my favorite writers on here too, but honestly i just can never bring myself to reach out, and my adhd is really intense so i tend to miss messages/notifications/engagement when other people reach out to me.

all of that being said, if you're interested in creating a writing space for yourself in this fandom, i do have some advice, and maybe you'll be better at grabbing onto the potential friendships that do come from that, which is the part i struggle with.

to start, i'd recommend becoming an active participant in the reading community if you aren't already. i'd create a fandom blog for yourself here and/or on twitter and use that to just start engaging with fic you like - reblog stuff and add fun tags, compliment the authors you're loving, drop messages off anon from that account if that's something you're comfortable doing. just start getting your username and your pfp on people's pages more and more. (this is one of those reasons i'll never change my username or my pfp btw, people know this as me and they've known that for a long time so in a small way it's kind of my writer's brand)

then think about what you're writing or want to write. is it big multichaptered work? smutty oneshots? romantic imagines? list-style stuff / scenario stuff like "hyung line headcanons" etc? figure out what you feel compelled to write, not just ideas, and start to write them. write them for yourself even if they're "bad" or unpolished and just enjoy that process a little bit while you're engaging as a reader / casually making fandom connections.

once you feel like you might have ideas to share, i think it's completely fine to make a post asking if anyone would want to beta read or if anyone else would want to talk about fics/headcanons etc. if you really want someone to connect with before you ever post your fic, i think this is the best way. i personally don't love messages asking me if i would be willing to read or edit someone's fic because to be honest that's a huge undertaking and i always find i'm too critical / take it too seriously. i also think when it's done this way it kind of makes the relationship a little awkward overall.... some people might be okay with it and i might be overthinking it, but that's just how i feel in general. BUT if you find people by asking the community and people are reaching out to you, that's completely different imo and i've done that in the past in other fandoms.

then once you're ready to throw a hail mary and post something, whether it's beta read or not, i'd recommend taking some time to do the following:

consider the look of your post and the aesthetic. people are so much more likely to click on it if it's formatted well and has some kind of a header image. go look at what other people do, what you like, and what you want your fic 'look' to be.

edit, and edit again. i know it's exciting to want to post asap, but if you're nervous, read it again. in my opinion, fic that you post should be fic that you want to read. if you're struggling to read your own work because something is a little clunky or you find yourself skimming it...... someone else might feel the same

post it at the right time. you don't need to be a marketing major and try to like drive engagement, but if you post it at 3am on a sunday i promise you people will miss it, and then you'll be struggling with the feeling of why did no one like my fic that i spent hours on etc.

your first fics aren't going to get much attention. that is totally okay! keep going, keep trying, and over time you will find your audience.

reblog reblogs.... if you get a reblog of someone adding tons of tags / fun comments / a review of your work etc., reblog their reblog and thank them! answer questions! engage! opening that door in this way as a writer will help build a little community of your own.

i would say that over the last three years here i've gained a little community of my own. i have consistent readers, anons and mutuals i recognize, people that i look forward to engaging with every time i post something even if they don't realize it. that means SO much to me as a writer, but truly it took a long time to create that space for myself here. admittedly though, even with that being true, i really struggle with connection but that might not be apparent to people just following my blog. i guess this is all to say, comparison is the thief of joy. as you start to create your own space here, reader or writer, don't spend time looking at other people and other blogs and wishing you could have xyz too. focus on what you truly want, what makes you happy, and do it for the love of writing. the rest will surely follow in time. 💛

#answered anon #honeyhotteoks thoughts

10 notes · View notes

decembermoonskz · 4 years ago

Note

I had a question, why do you and most fic writers reblog reply to reply to each other? Wouldn’t it be easier to reply to each other’s posts? I hope this doesn’t come off as mean but I follow a lot of you and sometimes your conversations clog up the dash.

hi hello. Oh wow, this isn’t something I think about really, in all honesty I think it’s just because(?) 🤔

Edit: I threw this under the cut as it ended up being pretty long 😂💦 oops it’s nothing bad though dw!

I don’t think we’re thinking about like clogging up dashes. we’re just having conversations and this is just the way we’re doing it. I will say that we don’t always do this, some prefer to reblog, some prefer to reply, some prefer to send the post in dms and pick up the convo there. It’s just in terms of what ppl feel like doing I for one, do all of the above. When I reblog I simply do it because I felt like it I’m not really thinking of anything else. I’m either joining in or I’m just adding my two cents on something both in the caption and the tags. I like talking in the tags a lot so that’s probs why as well, also it’s just fun to add your take on things haha 😂😂 I’m sorry for you if it’s become something that somewhat irks you but I believe it’s just smth that the user feels like doing so it probably won’t be stopping anytime soon. reblogging is just another way we talk here on this app after all. You could always ask others and gather some more opinions on this if you like!! This is my take 🥰 oh and no this didn’t come off as mean it’s a genuine question! I hope this is at least gives you my opinion on this. It’s really just a in-the-moment type thing and it’s fun(?) 😂😂

#mail #hello anon #this is interesting I never thought of it like this #what do you guys think?#I personally don’t find reblog convos that much of an annoyance or anything #if I see one I just keep it moving if I’m not a part of it #or maybe I wanna add on so I reblog it onto my page #it’s not really something I ever gave much thought to like I already said but idk it’s also fun haha

1 note · View note

afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago

Text

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said.

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move.

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.

#chris evans smut #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x reader #daddy!chris evans

1K notes · View notes

xxdragonwriterxx · 4 years ago

Text

~Navigation~

~ Welcome loves! Here is my main navigation page for finding anything and everything on my blog! If there are ever any questions or issues with finding stuff, or with things being unclear, please feel free to let me know! ~

Requests are currently CLOSED!

ANNOUNCEMENTS!

Due to tumblr destroying NSFW posts and stuff, all of my NSFW work and reblogs will be under the tag #fangsandbangs. If you don’t wanna see or interact with that kinda stuff, feel free to block that tag!

As you can see, I’ve officially closed my requests for now. I’ve kept them open for a long time and it’s just getting to the point now where I can’t keep up 😅. So I’m closing them temporarily so I can work through some of the ones I’ve already gotten! I will reopen them once they are to a more manageable point!

I promise to get to as many as I can, I just wanted to let you know that they won’t be done very quickly. Thank you for your patience! Love you guys! 🧡🧡🧡

Follower Event Announcement Here!

👑 Slumbering Under the Mountain 👑

~This is an 18+ blog so minors, please respect my rules & DNI on my NSFW content!~

The Dragon - This is my About Me page! I don’t bite, I promise!

The Flames - Just consult these rules before requesting! It’s really not much, I’m pretty chill. This is just to make sure everyone is on the same page.

Gold Coins - These are my WIPS! This is just for those who are interested in what is coming up! Also to maybe avoid requesting repeats while stuff is still in development.

🌙 Soaring in the Night Sky ✨

Shooting Stars - This is where my original one-shots live!

Constellations - This is my original multi-chapter masterlist. AKA, this is where you find every story that can not be read without reading the other parts first!

S’mores Round the Campfire - Here is where you can find all of the fics that have been requested by you guys!

Phases of the Moon - My HC’s, mini stories, prompt list works, & drabbles masterlist! This is honestly mostly kind of a vent space for my brain so be prepared for angsty midnight messes and self-indulgent character comforts.

🌲 Gliding Amongst the Trees 🌲

Blue Spruce Pine - My writing playlist. This is just a list of all of the song recommendations I add onto each story so you don’t have to go back through looking for a specific song each time.

Silver Birch - My second blog (xxpadfootxx) for if you are interested!

Flowering Dogwood - This is a list of photo links for all of the images used on every post! This is my way of giving credit to all of those talented artists without including them on every story.

Rocky Mountain Juniper - This is a link to my AO3 profile!

Thank you for visiting! I appreciate all of you so much and I am so grateful for all of the support you guys give me, you really are the best! I hope you enjoy! ❤️❤️

75 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years ago

Text

Omertà👄15

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (blowjob); alcohol

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: This thing never ends but I’m not complaining!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You stared in the mirror. Your cheek was swollen and your entire body was sore from his touch. The bathroom was a mess still. Water all over the floor.

He’d left moments before. It had taken too much to get him to go. Thinking of what you’d done, you felt stupid but you didn’t regret. If you could do it again, you’d have choked him harder, sooner.

You touched your tender jaw and whined. Loki would know the moment he saw you. Another gruelling day made longer by his disapproval. Even if he didn’t guess, he might find out from his business partner. You frowned and winced.

Well, you could try to lie, you just had to make it believable.

You inhaled and grabbed your clothing from the table along the wall. You swept through to the bedroom and shoved them messily into the end of your bag, half hanging from the zipper. You took the night shirt and pulled it over your head.

You went to the front room and crossed to the mini-fridged beneath the glass bar. It would be satisfying to add the costly drinks to Bucky’s bill in your deception.

Well, if it worked.

You took out three of the miniature bottles of chardonnay and two of the tiny whiskey bottles. It was almost five. The sun would be up soon and Loki too.

You paced as you uncapped a bottle of the chardonnay and drank it. One bottle would be enough of a buzz to make it believable. As you reached the dregs of the wine, you opened another and poured it down the sink behind the bar.

You swigged a mouthful of the whisky and dribbled some down your night shirt. You checked the time and emptied both bottles down the drain. You washed away the liquor from the sink.

You tested your breath as your vision began to glow. An hour had passed. Loki was an early riser. You expected him at seven, eight if Thor had kept him up late.

You took the third bottle to the bedroom. You messed up the bed and turned the lamp on the night table on its side. You tried to shake off the heady glow which sank into your brain. Maybe a whole bottle was too much.

You went to the bathroom and rumpled up the rug. You pushed over the stool beside the door. You looked around one last time. No sign of Bucky. No hint of him having bent you over the brim of the tub. Nothing but the bile in your stomach.

You tossed the bottle of wine so that it smashed across the tile. You got down, careful not to cut yourself as you laid down beside the remnants. You laid half in the puddle of chardonnay, your feet over the rug as your bruised cheek rested painfully against the cold floor.

You closed your eyes and swallowed. Now you just had to wait. Your eyelids got heavier with every passing second. The smell of wine burned your nostrils and the liquid in your stomach felt thick.

You snorted awake as you heard the decisive banging on the door. You didn’t move and did your best not to tense up. Your eyes felt loose in your head as your mind bubbled from the half-slumber you’d sunk into.

You listened to the distant clamour outside your hotel room and slowed your breaths. Keep your eyes closed and don’t move.

The wait was interminable. Finally you heard the subtle beep of the lock on the door.

“Thank you very much,” Loki said from the front room. “So careless of me to leave my key inside.”

“Not at all, sir,” Another unfamiliar voice answered. “These things happen.”

“Here,” Thor said and footsteps faded away as the door shut.

Soles scuffed over the marble, softened by the rug, and grew decisive as they entered the bedroom. You focused on your heart beat as you listened closely.

“Looks like she had quite the night,” Thor mused as something moved.

Closer, closer, closer. You felt the shadow in the doorway and kept your breath steady.

“Mmm, so she did,” Loki’s heels clicked on the tile as he neared and toed you with his shoe. “Thank god I’m not paying for all this.”

“Is she alive?” Thor asked. You felt a thick hand on your arm as you were pushed onto your back. Your arm fell across the tile limply. “Christ, look at her face.”

Loki sighed as a rough palm settled on your hot, bruised, cheek.

“Wake up,” Thor’s thick fingers rubbed softly as he tried to rouse you. “Honey, honey,” He cooed. He slipped his arm under you and pulled you to sit up. “Hey, hey. Fuck, Loki, you wanna get some water or something?”

You grumbled and your head lolled against Thor’s arm. Fingers snapped in front of your face as you let your eyes flutter open. You swatted Loki’s hand away and belched.

“What’s you doin’?” You slurred.

“What are you doing?” Loki countered as he knelt beside you. “You certainly enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?”

You frowned and tried to wave him away. Thor chuckled and hooked his other arm under your legs and lifted you. It was frightening how easily he was able to hold you.

“You should’ve invited us,” Thor kidded as Loki stood and stepped aside as you were carried through the doorway. “We can still get in on this, eh?”

“It’s barely eight in the morning,” Loki slithered. “Get her on the bed. We haven’t time for this… mess.”

“Poor thing, you’ve driven her to drink.”

Thor dropped you on the bed, his hand grazing your thigh as he drew away. He paused and shoved his hand further up your night shirt. You flinched, your cunt still tender from the night before.

“Don’t touch her.” Thor’s hand was ripped from between your legs. “She’s barely awake.”

“All the better.” Thor boomed. “I don’t mind it. Easier.”

“You truly are vile, brother,” Loki sneered.

“I can be quick,” Thor pulled your shirt up over your pelvis.

“You are here for business,” Loki snarled and tugged the shirt back down. He tore the blanket from beneath you and covered you with it. “Go. Wait for me in the other room.”

“You are no fun, brother,” Thor huffed but left.

Loki waited for him to disappear beyond the door then carefully sat beside you on the mattress.

“Darling, you must think you’re so clever,” He touched your cheek and you winced. “But when you sober up, you will realise how dumb you truly are.”

He shook his head and jostled you as he rose.

“I expect you will have slept this tomfoolery away by this evening,” He said. “And since you will have missed a day of work, you will make that up to me.” He neared the door and turned back. “And this will not happen again.”

👄

You weren’t sure if you were really hungover or you had slept too deep. Despite your wiser forebodings, you let yourself drift off shortly after you were left alone. You needed the sleep but you also needed to get your shit together.

It was clear after the previous night that you could not go on like this forever. Sooner or later, likely sooner, these men would break you. You weren’t delusional enough to think you could outlast them. Already, you were exhausted and the casino felt too much like a tomb.

It was already two. You groaned as you climbed out of bed. You weren’t going to wait around for Loki. You showered in the glass booth and the hot water eased your body. Your eyes stung but you gulped back the sudden wave of hopelessness.

You dressed. You hurt. A lot.

You pulled on a tea length skirt and a simple sleeveless blouse. The only real mark of your intense night was your swollen face and the rest of it could as easily be explained away as the result of your drunken fall.

You grabbed your phone and shoved it in a small purse along with your wallet and headed out. You hailed a cab and had it drop you off a street away from the casino. You found a cafe and ordered a double espresso. You sipped the bitter brew as you traversed the next block.

The casino was still a hive of activity. You were barely noticed as you passed the men in their hard hats and you kept your head down as you climbed the stairs. It was almost four.

You passed the open door of Loki’s unfinished office, then that of Bucky’s. Both were vacant. Luck, for the time being.

You exhaled and approached the door of your own office. You’d hide there until Loki returned. If you cut him off at the pass, he might not be irritated enough to really make you suffer.

You stopped short as you entered. Behind your new desk, sat a broad figure. Your ledger sat open before Thor as he slipped carelessly through the pages. You clung to the door and peeked out behind you.

“Ah, you’ve recovered. Already?” He smirked as you turned back to him. “Do come in.” He stood. “Apologies, I was told I might use your space in your absence and I didn’t expect you so soon.”

“Loki doesn’t appear to be in his office,” You approached one side of the desk as he rounded the other. You kept away from him. “I’m certain he wouldn’t mind--”

“Fun night?” He asked as he strode towards the door.

“I don’t… remember, if I’m being honest.” You lied as you checked your second drawer. The lock was broken. “Not much at all.”

“No? Just got a little carried away, did we?” He swung the door shut and crossed his arms as he turned to lean against it. “Lonely, perhaps?”

“I have a lot to catch up on,” You sat and ignored him as you set your coffee on the desk along with your purse. “And I’m sure you--”

“You don’t remember anything? Not even this morning?” He wondered.

“Bits and pieces,” You sighed.

He slowly traipsed towards the other side of your desk. He planted his large hands by your ledger as he loomed over you. You didn’t look up as you took a pencil from the top drawer.

“My brother’s a prick,” He said. “I get it but it’s no reason to shun me.”

“Thor,” You sat back and placed your pencil in the middle of the ledger. “This is business. I’m doing my job. Go do yours.”

“Fortunately, my work is already done for the day,” He said. “I think, in fact, I have earned a brief respite.”

“Go,” You said firmly. “I still have work to do.”

“Oh, you do,” He said as he stood. “Go on and get under that desk. Show me why my brother likes you so much.”

“Get. Out.” You snarled.

“You really don’t know when you’re punching above your level, do you?” He walked around the desk and you swiveled your chair and stood.

“Thor, I mean--”

He grabbed the back of your neck, his other hand on your shoulder, and forced you into the chair.

“It’s okay, I’ll stand,” His fingers dug into your neck as you whimpered.

His other hand went to his trousers and he tugged the tails of his shirt loose. You tried to stand but he was too strong. You grasped his thick wrist and tried to wrench it for your neck.

“We don’t want to break that face entirely, do we?” He flicked his button open and slid the zipper down. “Come on, honey, I know that mouth of yours is sweet. I’ve seen it myself.”

“Let me go,” You kicked out and his hand slipped around your neck to your throat.

He choked you as he freed himself over the top of his pants. His cock was thick and throbbing. You tried to roll the chair away from him but his grip only tightened.

“Open,” He guided his tip to your mouth and pressed it to your lips. You tried to turn away. “I’ll break your jaw, honey. I’ll break every part of you, now open up.”

Your eyes watered and you gasped as you opened your mouth. He shoved himself inside, his hand quickly swept to the back of your head. He forced his way into your throat and you choked, teetering on the edge of your chair.

“Oh, wow, oh,” He purred as he wiggled his hips. “Amazing.”

You slapped the hand on the back of your head and your body spasmed as you gagged.

“You can do it. I know you can take all of me.” He pushed even deeper and you couldn’t breath. You reached up and grabbed onto his jacket. “Oh, yeah, that’s it.”

He pulled back and you gulped for air around him. He slid your mouth up and down his length, faster and faster as his groans floated around you. The sloppy noises of your mouth made you even sicker and the stone set behind your brow grew even sharper.

“Oh, I think for the first time… I’m starting to understand my brother,” Thor rocked his hips as he fucked your face, gripping your throat and head firmly. “Fuck, I’m already close.”

He kept on. Your breath and throat ragged. You were dizzy and sickened by the slobber that dripped down your chin. You clutched his jacket desperately as he continued to sped up.

“Swallow, honey,” He grunted and shook as his thrusts turned frantic.

He dipped several times into your throat then held himself there as heat flooded into you. You slapped his stomach as you struggled to swallow around him. He pulled out as your throat began to constrict and you managed to gulp down his salty cum.

A string of cum hung from his cock as he let you go and backed away. He turned to lean against the desk and sighed. He took his pocket square and wiped himself clean with it before dropping it in your lap.

He zipped his trousers up and stood as he cleared his throat. You coughed and covered your mouth to keep from vomiting.

“Now, I know my brother is the jealous type,” He strutted around the desk and rolled his shoulders. “So, this stays between us, right?”

282 notes · View notes

samanthadalton · 4 years ago

Text

Gift and a curse part 1

pairings: Bianca x f! mc (Charlie)

A lot of you actually wanted this fic which makes me so happy because Bianca deserves all the love.

(also just wanted to add that when i played the game i romanced mackenzie but for this fic and for the story to make sense i’m romancing adam)

context: rewrite of chapter 12, where Bianca admits her feelings for mc and I give their relationship a bit more depth

reader discretion is advised as there’s mentions of slight internalised homophobia and abuse

taglist: @cloud9in @jaxsmutsuo @penda-bear @alleycat97 @kawaiibanditmoneytaco @crazzyplays @avalawrencefl @itszdavenport @annamaries-things @rory2107 @gamechoices-player @oxjenayxo @suoirallesalta @boopbapbeepbop @queensayeed @fantasy-of-fiction @baronyvampire @vampiregod325 @waterinathermostat @sanguetripasebolodechocolate (i added people who replied, reblogged and liked my post asking about the fic, some people weren’t showing up on the tag im sorry :((( but if you wanna be added or taken off let me know 😊)

word count: 3.4k

After spending the night making up with Adam, Charlie stands on her front porch, savoring the feel of the sun on her skin, reveling in the wave of content that is washing all over her. She’s broken out of her reverie when a familiar voice calls out to her and a small smile creeps up on her lips.

“Beautiful day right?” Bianca walks down the pathway, her neck craned upwards gazing up at the sky.

Charlie hums in response, “even more now that you’re here.” She catches Bianca freeze for a split second before plastering a bright smile as she walks up the steps to stand next to her. “So what brings you over here?” Charlie takes a small sip from her glass of iced tea before settling it down on the small table next to her, looking over at the model expectedly.

“Just wanted to check up on you after yesterday, it was kinda intense. How did it go with Adam?”

“We had a long talk last night and I finally feel like we’re on the same page again. We managed to put the whole elopement thing behind us.” Charlie waves her hand, dismissing her original predicament, “again thank you for your advice on the roof, it helped me get my head straight.”

When Charlie glances over at Bianca, there seems to be a shift in her energy, her usual peppy self is replaced with an unfamiliar expression on her face, one filled with anguish. “That’s…great. I’m glad to hear it.”

Charlie lets out a small laugh, “yeah that sounded really convincing.” She squints her eyes, assessing the model. Bianca looks like a deer in headlights, as she watches Charlie’s gaze roam up and down her body, before the AME contestant flashes a teasing smile. “Oooohhhhh. I see what’s going on here.” Charlie says tauntingly.

Bianca splutters, “oh- you, you do?” A blush creeps up to her cheeks as she shifts awkwardly, unable to meet Charlie’s gaze.

“I think someone has a little crush.” Charlie jests taking a small step forward. “You were hoping Adam and I don’t make up because you want Adam all to yourself.”

“Charlie..” Bianca trails off as the girl teasingly pokes at her side, all colour drained from her face.

“That ‘honey’” Charlie raises her fingers in air quotes, “of yours that you were being all secretive about, you were talking about him right?”

“You don’t get it. Adam isn’t the one I like.” Bianca blurts out as she snaps her gaze up to the brunette, her eyes staring longingly. Realisation begins to dawn on Charlie as she comprehends Bianca’s revelation and all sense of amusement is wiped from her face.

“I- what?” Charlie begins blinking rapidly, stunned into submission.

“It’s you I have feelings for.” Bianca looks at the girl with sadness in her eyes as the silence looms between the two of them. Worry seems to take over Charlie, as her eyes roam the space in front of them, she knows Bianca would never intentionally sabotage her but being on AME means there are prying eyes everywhere and the last thing she needs is for Vince to have some leverage over her. She grabs Bianca’s hand and pulls her into the house, closing the front door behind them.

“I don’t know what to say.” Simultaneously the girls’ gaze drift down to their intertwined hands and Charlie carefully tears her hand out of Bianca’s before running a distressed hand over her face. “How long have you felt this way, I mean I didn’t even know you liked girls like that.”

Bianca visibly tenses, a grimace appearing on her face, “it’s been on and off season 1 and 2 of AME. I thought I could suppress my feelings but after our kiss in Vegas it’s only been getting stronger.” Bianca sighs heavily, slumping her shoulders tiredly as makes her way to the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Charlie follows close behind and sits next to her, while keeping a safe distance between herself and the model. “And I’ve always been attracted to girls but,” she sinks further into the couch, her entire demeanour crestfallen. “Being a lesbian model in an industry as cutthroat as the model one isn’t easy. A lot of people just assume that it’s easy and that I’m this carefree or this egotistical person and-” she trails off unable to finish her sentence.

“Hey,” Charlie shifts in her seat, edging closer to Biance, wrapping her in a hug, “you don’t have to explain anything I get it.” She soothing rubs her back, as Bianca settles her face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, feeling lulled by the sense of security it brings her. “I just, I-, Bianca I’m getting married in a couple of weeks.”

“I know,” Bianca pulls herself out of Charlie’s arms, wiping away the few tears on her face. “I’m sorry to put you in this position Charlie but I just know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t say anything.” She sits up a little straighter, conviction beginning to settle in her. “Charlie if you don’t feel the same, tell me right now and I’ll walk away and we can pretend that this didn’t happen, and I’ll make peace with the fact that you choose Adam.”

Charlie gawks at Bianca, perplexed, the silence from the AME contestant an indication that the feelings may be returned. The model takes her chances and takes Charlie’s hand in hers, her thumb circling the brunette’s knuckles. “Or.. we can acknowledge that you feel something for me, whether it’s a tiny spark or whatever, you feel something for me and we do something about it.”

Charlie pulls her hand out of Bianca’s and exasperatingly huffs, “what are you talking about?”

“Come on Charlie, it’s just us here,” Bianca gestures to the empty room, “I know you picked up on my indirect flirting,” although her tone is teasing, her eyes tell a different story. Charlie feels herself almost losing herself in the intensity of Bianca’s hazel eyes but her mind drifts to Adam and she tears her gaze away from her.

“Maybe, but Bianca this is crazy, I don’t even know what I feel.”

“Then go on a date with me.”

“What? Oh my god.” Charlie looks at Bianca, shocked while Bianca’s expression is full of determination.

“We’ve never been on a solo date so go on one with me, tomorrow.”

“I-, what about Adam?”

“What about him? Charlie this is about you and your feelings, and I know they exist because you haven’t denied it.” Charlie laughs, shaking her head slightly, the AME contestant is a lot of things but a liar isn’t one of them, at least not when it comes to real life. “Don’t you wanna explore this and see where it goes? Who knows, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

Charlie knows she should say no, her and Adam are finally in a good place but a tiny part of her knows Bianca is right and she can feel the butterflies in her stomach as the model watches her. “Okay.”

……

The next day after the challenge, Bianca drags Charlie away from the rest of the group and takes her to the rooftop of the AME mansion. Awaiting for the pair is a blanket carefully laid out on the floor, surrounded by pillows and a big picnic basket sitting in the middle.

Stunned, Charlie turns to Bianca, admiration in her eyes, “Bianca you did all of this for me?”

Bianca flashes one of her dazzling smiles before settling on the blanket and patting the seat next to her, “of course I did babe. Now come and sit.” Charlie moves to sit opposite the model, she cranes her neck upwards to catch the faint light of the sun shining through the sky behind the clouds.

“How did you even get all of this up here?”

“I told the production team that the bride demanded a mini picnic and that they should oblige with her requests or face her wrath.”

“My wrath? You make me sound like some sort of villain.”

“You? A villain? Never. Now lets see what they have in here.” Bianca scrambles through the picnic basket and pulls out a bottle of champagne and a platter of mini sandwiches.

“Wow, this looks really good.” Charlie picks up a sandwich, and all but moans when she takes a bite, “oh my god this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”

“Let me taste,” Bianca leans forward and opens her mouth a little and Charlie places the rest of her sandwich in the model’s mouth, her fingers slightly brushing over her lips as she does. They both feel a jolt of electricity, but Charlie quickly retracts her hand, and anxiously settles it by her side.

“So.”

The girls awkwardly trail off looking off into the distance before the sounds of Bianca pouring the champagne breaks the silence.

“Look babe, I don’t want this to be awkward. I mean we’re best friends, there’s no reason why we can’t use this time to get to know each other better.” She offers Charlie one of the flutes of champagne, which is gratefully accepts.

“You’re right, so where do we start?” The girls clink their glasses together and the conversation begins to flow smoothly.

Bianca talks about her past, how her family grew up poor and how she turned to modelling so she could financially support her parents. Charlie laughs along as Bianca tells her the story of her first gig and how she lied about her age so she could legally be there and how her mother wasn’t happy with Bianca taking up modelling at first, but couldn’t be prouder once she began making it in the big leagues. Bianca also tells Charlie about the issues surrounding her sexuality, how she has to hide who she is because she doesn’t want to be blacklisted or seen as an outcast just because she loves women, because models tend to be very judgmental. Charlie intently listens, part of her gratified that Bianca is sharing this part of her life with her, because it’s definitely not easy for her too.

When Bianca bares her soul in front of Charlie, Charlie only finds it fitting to bare hers too. She goes deep about her life, things that she hasn’t even told Adam about because she’s worried about what he might think or say. But there’s something enticing about Bianca that simply makes it easy for her to tell her anything. And so Charlie tells Bianca about her abusive father, how he made her and her mother’s life hell for years until her mother had the courage to leave him and since then they haven’t looked back. She talks about how she went to school for a degree in economics but couldn't really find a secure job once she left college so she had to work in a small bookstore so she could make a living.

The conversation wasn’t all doom and gloom, the two reminisced about past relationships and embarrassing moments, their hopes and dreams, practically every topic under the sun. However, there was one subject that didn’t come up and that was AME. No words were spoken about production, Adam, the show itself, it’s like the girls completely forgot that world existed. After talking for hours, Charlie sighs and moves to stand, stretching her arms as she does.

“Hey where are you going?” Bianca playfully asks, throwing a grape at the girl’s leg.

“I just need to stretch my legs a little, god knows how long we’ve been sitting like this.”

Charlie moves towards the edge of the rooftop looking over the building, her gaze wistful as her mind wonders. Bianca joins her, her arms resting on the wall.

“What’s on your mind?”

Charlie doesn’t tear her gaze from her sky, her voice is low and soft as she speaks, “everything.” She turns her head and lifts it to gaze at Bianca, “have you noticed how we haven’t spoken about Adam at all tonight.”

“Yeah I have. But you can tell me whatever’s on your mind. We’re friends before anything else.”

Charlie laughs derisively, “no offence but I think you’ll be kinda biased.”

Biance lets out a small airy laugh, “I promise to be as objective as I can.”

Charlie sighs before looking out at the entrance of the mansion, the glow of the lights illuminating the pathway, a stark contrast to the dark night sky. “Tonight has been.. nice.”

“Just nice?” Bianca teasingly raises an eyebrow which Charlie catches in her peripheral vision.

“I mean it wasn’t what I was expecting. Some of the stuff I’ve told you, I’ve-, I’ve never told anyone before, not even Adam.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. I thought tonight would give me some clarity, but I’m just more confused than ever.”

“And why’s that?” Bianca hums.

“Because.. I think I’m falling for you and I don’t know what that means for Adam and I because I still love him too.”

Hope glimmers in Bianca’s eyes when Charlie looks up at her, fear creeping into her own eyes.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” Charlie softly says.

“I think that you do love Adam but,” Bianca has a pensive look on her face for a few seconds before it slowly shifts into resolve as it settles into her features. “But, I don’t think you’re in love with him. At least not anymore. I think you’re afraid of upsetting anyone or hurting anyone’s feelings so you’re forcing yourself to go ahead with this wedding when it’s not what you want.”

Silence stretches between the two as Charlie mulls over Bianca’s words, her brows furrowed together in contemplation.

“Charlie?” Charlie hums non-committedly, still lost in thought. “Charlie.” Bianca says a bit more sternly, which gets Charlie’s attention jerking her out of her thoughts. “Look babe, I think you’ve done so much for this show, I mean you’re having a wedding on national tv just to please the fans. I think you need to start doing things for yourself, be a little selfish.”

The air between them crackles with intensity as the two look at each other, desire slowly beginning to flood in their system. Charlie deftly looks at Bianca’s lips before looking back up at her eyes, uncertainty looming before her eyes but she takes the plunge leaning forward capturing Bianca’s lips in a sweet kiss. Bianca moans a little as she deepens the kiss, her tongue tangling with Charlie’s as her hand moves to grip at the brunette’s waist. A familiar voice booms out behind them, and Charlie suddenly jerks back, horror plastered all over her face.

“Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie hovers by the entrance of the rooftop, nostrils flaring in anger, as her eyes dart between Charlie and Biance.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Mackenzie it’s not what you think I-” Mackenzie raises her hand, and the words die out in Charlie’s mouth, as tears threaten to fall. Bianca, too stunned to move, stands awkwardly, her mouth hanging open but not daring to speak.

“I think you need to leave,” Mackenzie’s glare snaps to Bianca, who solemnly nods in acceptance.

“I’ll catch you around,” Bianca squeaks out before shuffling towards the exit of the rooftop. She throws Charlie an apologetic look before leaving the two girls on their own.

“You have some explaining to do.” Mackenzie crosses over to Charlie, her arms crossed together, while she gives the girl a deathly glare. Charlie apprehensively wrings her fingers together, unable to meet Mackenzie’s gaze. “Why the hell are you kissing Bianca?”

A dam seems to break in Charlie, hot tears begin streaking down her face, as she begins to sob uncontrollably. Some of the anger in Mackenzie begins to dissipate as she tries to console her. “I don’t know what to do Mack.”

“Let’s sit down.” Mackenzie guides Charlie to one of the chairs before pulling one out for herself and sits on it facing the brunette. The tough girl awkwardly pats Charlie’s leg as Charlie’s breathing becomes frantic, her chest heaving heavily. “Hey it’s okay.” Mackenzie does an exercise to help Charlie control her breaths, telling the AME contestant to slowly inhale, hold and then to exhale. After a couple of tries, Charlie feels like she’s back in control and nods gratefully at the tough girl. “Charlie, you need to tell me what’s going on.”

Charlie takes in a deep breath and proceeds to tell Mackenzie everything, from Bianca’s admission to her indecisiveness between the model and her fiance. Mackenzie nods her head along to the brunette’s admittance, a blank expression on her face.

“I don’t know what to do Mack, I’m torn.”

“Are you serious? You love Adam, you’re going to marry him in a couple of weeks.” Mackenzie looks down at the ring that sits on Charlie’s finger.

Charlie exasperatingly throws her hands in the air, “I know that! I’m not sure if that’s what I want anymore.”

Mackenzie sits back in her seat, contemplating, “I’m one of your best friends, and I made a promise to you that I would do whatever I could to make this the best wedding ever.” she runs a distressed hand through her hair, “are you sure about Bianca? I mean this could be a crush or-”

Charlie violently shakes her head, “no. It’s not a crush. It’s like-” Charlie gazes at Mackenzie, a euphoric look glistening in her eyes, “when you were younger did you ever want something so bad but you thought you couldn’t have it. And when you finally got it, it exceeded all of your expectations and made you happier than you thought was ever possible?” Mackenzie, purses her lips, her eyes lost in thought. A few moments later she nods. “That’s what it feels like with Bianca. I’ve always felt drawn to her, but I didn’t think she ever liked me like that, I didn’t think it was possible. But now it’s a possibility and I think that I can be happy with her. But the practical side of me thinks that I’m rushing into it. That I’m acting too rash or impulsive and that if I choose her I lose the stability I have with Adam and then I end up getting burned in the end because I’m rushing into something I barely know anything about.” Charlie shakes her head, “I’ve never felt so confused before.”

“You know I’m never one for the sentimental crap but I think deep down you know what you want, I think you’re just afraid of hurting someone you care about.”

Charlie laughs, “you know, Bianca said the exact same thing.”

Mackenzie smiles, “and here I thought she was just another dumbwitted model.” Charlie playful swats at Mackenzie who laughs. “For real, I think you need to have a deep conversation with yourself and weigh out all the pros and cons. But I feel like you already know the answer.”

Both of the girls fall into a silence as Charlie looks down at her ring, fiddling with it as she ponders. When she speaks, her voice is low and shaky.

“How do I tell him?” Charlie's voice cracks as her lips quiver, as she holds back another wave of tears.

“If he truly loves you he’ll understand. It might take him a while but he’ll get it, he’s a good guy. He only wants you to be happy.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Heh. I guess I’m just not one for indecisiveness, I usually know what I want and I go for it.”

“I envy you for that.” Charlie’s eyebrows furrow together, a skeptical expression on her face. “Do you think I’m rushing into it with her?”

Mackenzie shakes her head, “no, I don’t. I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I mean if I knew she’s a lesbian I would’ve put two and two together but, sometimes you just know who you want to be with. I mean, look at Adam’s parents. They knew each other for 3 months before they got married and they’ve been happily married ever since. You know what Adam’s dad told me his only regret was?”

Charlie shakes her head, “what was it?”

“His only regret was that he didn’t ask her to marry him sooner.” Charlie breaks out into a wide smile which Mackenzie returns. “Adam’s probably still awake, you should go and talk to him.”

Charlie nods with determination, letting out a huge breath, “you’re right, I shouldn’t delay it.”

#playchoices #america’s most eligible #AME #bianca x mc #bianca ame #bianca scandoval #hope you guys like it!!!

46 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 4 years ago

Text

No. 9: The Body CH. 6

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve explores the limits of her power. Diego is still stalking her and finds out more about her. Eve meets Klaus.

Warnings/Tags: Klaus. Talk of past trauma and phobias. Brief mentions of illness, injury and death.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Eve had begun to notice changes in her shape from the training. Work wasn’t as strenuous and honestly, her ass was looking fantastic. Her body was adapting but she felt she wasn’t exercising her mind enough. Out of the two, trying to use her mind and powers was harder to find time for since it was so draining. Using them at work in small increments to help things along was now manageable, but there were no visible results from it. Nothing she could look at, try to heal, and then see healed. So that’s where she started.

Eve wasn’t a stranger to doing illegal things. If you took a look at her juvenile record that would be clear. What she was doing wasn’t exactly illegal but it was certainly breaking some rules. She was finding it surprising how much she could get away with by simply wearing her white coat with her ID and having a determined look on her face. People held doors open for her that she didn’t have clearance for, add carrying a clipboard around on top of that and she could’ve gotten into just about anywhere it seemed. She was starting to understand how Diego was so good at it, and more interestingly understanding why he did it. That little flush of her cheeks and rush of misbehaving came back to her, something she’d not felt in over a decade, fueled her powers, and gave her a little oomph to work with.

She started small, visited patients being held that was out of the ER after surgery, vehicle accidents, and the like, plenty of small cuts and scrapes that no one would notice were gone. She’d look in and find someone resting and alone, not hard to do most nights. She’d find some road rash, a smaller gash, something not too intricate. At first, she thought she needed to put her hands on the person to heal and woke up a few very understandably startled people. But after a few successful attempts, she started to push herself more. By focusing she began to be able to heal cuts over and no scar would be left in its place. Whoever she did this to, she would check on their file until they were discharged, making sure she wasn’t hurting them or causing bad side effects. So far they’d all made a full recovery with no complications. This was extremely promising and made Eve’s confidence grow and therefore emboldened her to push herself.

She’d worn herself ragged running experiments on what she could or couldn’t do. She had a journal she kept hidden that she kept her results in. So far, she’d been able to find some limitations and strengths. No matter how hard she tried, she was no match for cancer. She could help with someone’s side effects momentarily but be unable to cure it. The same could be said for viral and bacterial instances. Once something had infiltrated and infested a body, she could no longer help it. She could only manipulate the body itself. Her hopes of being able to be the cure for cancer, which she would admit was a bit egotistical, were broken after seeing many fade away after brief respites she’d give them from nausea or pain. It was nice to be able to help certainly but having to see suffering and not be able to fix it was a heavy burden she was having to learn to deal with.

It was never easy to lose someone. It was something she wouldn’t say you got used to exactly, but it was something you could come to understand with time. Or at least be able to come to terms with. Since Eve was an emotional person deep down, and the healing she’d been trying to do to help herself manage that was opening up old wounds and was making her feel raw. Every life that slipped through her fingers would hit her harder than it had months prior. Which is what led her to be so reckless, she guesses. So she tried to bring someone back from the dead.

It wasn’t uncommon sadly, for a child brought in after catching a stray bullet from a hit and run or gang violence. It felt so unfair, and the first time she tried the child was rolled in, DOA, her heart poured out for them. She gave it her all, paddles, compressions and when nothing moved the vitals she had a last-ditch effort. A tear-filled pressing of her hands to the chest of the child, nurses looked on with heartbroken eyes for the doctor as she had a rare moment of breaking on the job. For a fleeting moment, a blip on the monitor later ruled out to a technical glitch, but Eve just couldn’t muster it. She passed out onto the bloody floor from her attempts and was sent home.

She’d had mixed feelings about it. Had she almost done it? Could she get stronger? Or had she found a line that she couldn’t cross? The page entry for her recorded attempts had teardrops running her ink on that entry. She felt defeated and decided to take a break.

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

Diego watches Eve without her knowing, as he sometimes still does. He trusts her, but a part of him always wants to be sure. She’s in an unusual neighborhood, going into an apartment building he doesn’t know. He decided to wait on her to appear again instead of finding her inside. He didn’t have to wait much more than an hour before she appeared again, seeming uneasy as she stepped back into the now dark streets.

He followed behind, spilling out of an alleyway after she passed and started the task of getting closer to her. When he finally got close enough to reach out and speak he was met swiftly with a switchblade and a series of moves he’d taught her.

“Woah! Hey! It’s me!” He says defensively, only a minor rise in key from surprise as he jumped back.

“Jesus fucking CHRIST Diego!” She says with an expression he’s never seen before.

“Hey! Hey! I didn’t know you’d be so jumpy!” He keeps his hands up between them as she huffs out of her nose like a bull, the late winter night air just still barely showing her breath.

“I’m a woman. Alone. At night on the street, dude!” She states obviously and biting as she puts her blade away. “Of COURSE I’m jumpy!” She whispers angrily.

“Look, there are people around and the streetlights are on... I didn’t know I’d scare you.” He explains with hands now on her shoulders. “You okay? You’ve got that wild look in your eyes.”

“I’m just…” she sighs and shakes her head. “I’m fine. I just… Wanna get home.”

“Looks like we need to train on lying.” He smirks.

She stares at him for a moment with pursed lips then shrugs and turns back in the direction she was going.

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“No, I'd like that actually.” She murmurs.

“What are you doing in this part of town?”

“Do you follow me everywhere?”

“No…” he answers defensively playful. “I was around and saw you. Got curious.”

“You can’t send a text like a normal person?”

“Not my style.”

“Difficult is your style.”

“Hey, slow down there with the rapid-fire insults here. Did I do something?”

“Besides stalk me? No.”

“Then why are you being such a-“ he stops as she shoots her eyes his way. “Difficult person?” He tries to cover smoothly.

Once again she stares as if contemplating something. “If I tell you will you stop asking?”

“Sorry, no promises. Don’t think I missed where you didn’t answer why you’re here.”

“Fine.” She begins to walk again. “I’m here apartment hunting. Not so great street, but that apartment is really nice. And I have a fear… a phobia that you’re gonna laugh at me for so I don’t wanna tell you.”

“When have I ever laughed at you?”

She raises her brows obviously at him.

“Okay, I won’t now.” he emphasizes.

“I don’t believe you for some reason.”

“I swear! I won’t.”

“Due to… past trauma, I am afraid of the dark. And I don’t know this part of town and it makes me nervous. I’d catch a cab but I want to learn the subways so I need to walk it.”

He stays quiet for a moment. “Afraid of the dark?”

“Yes, my mom would lock me in the closet and read scripture and scare me and shit. Okay? And it traumatized me so when it’s dark and I’m overstimulated I get really... panicky.” She explains defensively.

“Don’t have to fight me over it, it’s fine. I...get it.”

“Don’t tell me you were locked in a closet too?”

“No, but he did do it to my brother. And it was a mausoleum and not a closet.”

“Fuck.” she exhales.

“Yeah. Pretty fucked up.”

“The more we learn about each other the more often we say that.”

“Get used to it.” He huffs out a laugh. They walk for a moment in comfortable silence while Eve tried to let her defenses down against him. “You know you could’ve just... asked me to come with you ya know? I am pretty handy when it comes to navigating the city. And being a bodyguard.”

“It’s not something I’m proud of.” She shakes her head. “Yeah, Diego? Hey, could you babysit me because I’m a child who’s afraid of the dark and not a grown-ass woman who can handle her own shit?”

“Well, it’s better than you almost stabbing me!”

“And whose fault was that?”

“...your moms if you want to get really technical about it.”

She lets out a weak laugh and he feels accomplished. ”Don’t forget your dad too”

“Oh yeah fuck both of them.” He says eagerly in agreement. They share a smile and he stays close to her side. “Why are you looking for an apartment?” He breaks the silence.

“Some asshole keeps breaking into mine.”

“Seriously.” He grins and smacks her arm.

“Well I’m on salary now and it’s good money so I can afford a better place.”

“Oh. I kinda like your place.”

“I don’t hate it but it’d be nice to have some more room. An office, a view.” They stand at a corner to wait for a light change. “I’d like a place with more privacy. Maybe a doorman for safety?”

“And that apartment had all that?” He motions back with his thumb.

“Yeah, it was stupid nice for the area. I was surprised it wasn’t more-“ both their heads snap to the car that passed far too fast and close, and luckily it wasn’t them, but a bike messenger up ahead that going to be the target.

They see it happen so fast, and they’re both instinctually moving towards the man that’s now on the ground and trying not to scream, holding his leg.

They were the only ones close out of the street and rush to help.

“Ah fuck, don’t call the ambulance I dont have insurance okay?”

“Well, you’re not walking anywhere like that.” Diego states obviously.

“Lucky for you I’m a Doctor. Let me see. Can you move it?” She moves his sock down to quickly see bone through skin. “Ah man, I’m sorry to tell you this but it’s really...broken dude.” She looks at him with sympathetic eyes.

“Ah fuck.” They cry. “My boss is gonna fire me for sure now. I can’t afford to get this fixed… I can’t take time off…” they begin to hiccup and tears come quickly.

Eve stares at the trauma site and furrows her brow in thought. “Maybe I can…” she whispers.

“Doc...?” she hears Diego’s voice, a warning behind her.

“I’m gonna try. I have to.” She says with wide eyes that convince him on impact. She turns back and puts her hands on the busted ankle, “Stay still if you can.” She mutters before going into her focused state.

“What are you? Listen lady I appreciate you stopping but I don’t think praying over it is gonna work.” They offer but their voice slows as they gradually feel the pain disappear. “What the…” they turn their ankle in a circle and their jaw drops. “HOW DID? WHAT DID?”

Eve shares a very excited glance with Diego before he yanks her up. “We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Wait no! Don’t go!” A now on their feet and the healed biker was calling out as they both ran down the street into the subway below.

She felt alive. Exhilarated. A smile on her face and hand in hand with Diego as they bobbed and swerved through the crowd.

“Did you SEE?” She calls out as they make it sliding just in time into the subway car.

“YES! You didn’t tell me you’d gotten so good!”

“I’ve been practicing!” She says out of breath and glowing from a sheen of sweat that she’d developed in the rush.

“I’d say so! You just...POOF!”

“I’ll have to show you my notes.”

“Notes?”

“I’ve been keeping track of all my attempts. Like a scientific study. Well… sort of…” she shrugs and wipes her hair back.

“You would find a way to make this nerdy.” He laughs.

“Scientific method is not nerdy!”

He laughs out loud. “That’s the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said!”

“That was awesome though right?”

“Yeah, it was risky but...awesome.” He nods in agreement as they both calm back down and move into whispers of her trial and error.

——————————-

“You just have to remember to be defensive and not just offensive.”

“You know I don’t give a shit about sports Diego.” Eve laughs as she pulls her gym bag over her shoulder.

“I’m serious! You'll get-" he insists with a whine.

"You’ll get yourself hurt when shit gets real.” She says with him and rolls her eyes. “I know! Okay?” She says with a sassy hand motioned his way. “I’ll work on it. Like I always do. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now, cut me some slack.” She groans as he walks her to the front of the gym to leave.

They’re met with a thin and friendly-looking guy their age who she thought looked familiar. Diego’s body language automatically tenses.

“Oh hello there you.” Klaus coos at Eve whose bright friendly eyes don’t match Diego’s already annoyed ones at his appearance. “I didn’t know my brother would be busy with a beautiful woman tonight, my apologies.” He sweeps his hands and takes her's to kiss the back of it.

“Hi.” She stutters with surprise. “I was just leaving. Had a training session. Works got weird hours so your brother is nice enough to see me at night.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d see a lovely thing like you anytime you wanted.”

“Let her go, Klaus.”

“What is your name before our paths separate and never meet again. I’d never forgive myself for not asking.”

“It’s Eve.” She laughs. “You’re much nicer than Diego. Do you know how to fight too? Maybe you could train me since he’s such an asshole.” She motions to Diego and Klaus lets out an amused sound.

“Alas I’m fairly useless in such things but I make up for it in other ways.” He winks.

“Okay! GOODNIGHT EVE.” Diego says politely pushing her out the door. “Sorry about Klaus He's…an idiot.”

“No apologies he's rather charming.” She teases him more and waves goodbye as she exits into her cab.

“What the fuck was that?” Diego shoves his lanky brother.

“Eve hmmm? A sexy name for a sexy little-“

“Stop it.” Diego groans.

“That’s her isn’t it?” Klaus smirks and begins to float about as Diego closes up.

“Her who?”

“Your mystery doctor.”

Diego doesn’t answer hoping naively that Klaus would stop.

“Oh come on, I’m your bro, your bud. Your pal. You can tell me.” He insists with outstretched arms.

“Yeah. I’m training her.”

“She seems like she’d be the one training you if you catch my drift.”

“It’s not like that.”

“That smile you had on your face before you realized I was watching would say otherwise.” He lilts. “You’re a terrible liar Diego just don’t try.”

“I’m a great liar!” He barks back.

“You’re shit and you should just be honest with me, I AM the psychic after all.”

“You’re not psychic you see the dead and-“

“And what is the difference?!” Klaus flops just hands at his side and follows his brother upstairs.

Diego continues as if he said nothing. “You’d have to be sober to do that so so I’m not gonna hold my breath on that.”

“I actually have been. Not that you supportive lot would notice.” He prances into the apartment behind a grunting Diego. “Because your little girlfriend is causing quite the ruckus amongst the city’s dead.”

“What?” Diego asks with a raised brow.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“She almost brought one back.”

“She did…” he seems deep in contemplation for a moment. “Wait so you HAVE been sober?” Diego’s eyes turn soft and Klaus groans as he’s quickly approached and hugged.

“You are missing the point here Diego dear…”

“I’m proud of you.” He says with emotion in his voice and Klaus manages a heavy sigh and a pat to his back.

“Stop it now before I have feelings…” he pats him and pushes him away. “What do we know about this Eve? She’s messing with the balance, she’s a powerful little thing. And gorgeous I might add, I’d be keeping her to myself too. Unless she was into being shared…”

“I don’t think she is.” Diego falls back into his monotone answering after a brief glimmer of earnest emotion.

“Different strokes, different folks.” Klaus shrugs. “So is that ass as breathtaking as it looked in those leggings or-?”

“KLAUS!”

“What? I’m just a red-blooded American male, I see a nice ass, I admire it.”

“I wouldn’t KNOW.” He answers from behind the doorway of his bedroom, door left open. “But I’d have to say yes.” He adds quickly.

“Ahhhh! There he is.” Klaus applauds his brother's cheeky smile. “Now that you’re not in a prudish mood, I actually do want to know about her. Details, man! Out with it! What’s my little private dick figured out on our newest sibling?”

“Ew don’t say that.”

“I knew you wanted to fuck her.” Klaus smirks.

“Jesus Klaus!” Diego groans.

“Not that it’s stopped any of us before, cough Luther, cough.”

“Hey, we’re not biological!”

“Defending Luther now? Number one? Daddy’s goodest boy? Diego’s sworn nemesis?”

“EW! No! I’m just… saying. It’s a fact so...it’s...valid.”

“Good thing you’ve got your looks hun.” Klaus tsks.

“Do you wanna know about her or you wanna talk shit and get hit?”

“So hostile.” Klaus shakes his shoulders. “Go on you party pooper, tell me about our new super doctor.”

@s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s @jaegeeeeer @diegos-butt @anglovesthis

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fanfic #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #david castañeda

17 notes · View notes

cynicallystiles · 4 years ago

Text

Seasons of Love: The One with How They Met

Disclaimer: Moodboard made by me. Pictures found on Google!

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request: @itrocksmysocks basically requested this by making me obsessed with the triplets a year ago.

Warning: Swearing maybe.

Notes: The long awaited series is here! The whole thing still isn’t finished ahead of time like I wanted. So, we’ll see if I actually stay on schedule with this one. Credit to @thotmendes for imagining the triplets into existence about a year ago! Thanks for your patience! Please COMMENT/REBLOG if you enjoy it!

Pairing: Kallie Hayes (OC) x Mendes Triplets

Masterlist Series Masterlist

SOL Teaser Chapter Two

Words: ~3.5k

Anais Nin once said, "Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."

The first encounter Kallie had with the triplets was a memorable one. This could be because she didn't know they were triplets. She had just moved to town with her family and started her first day in the middle of October.

Kallie was just eight or nine years old, but she was nervous about starting a new school way behind the other kids. Once her parents dropped her off with the principal, she was led to a small classroom. The teacher smiled brightly as he welcomed her in.

"Hello! It's very nice to meet you..." he trailed off, expecting her to reply. Her gaze was anxiously flitting around to all the other students staring at her curiously. So, he cleared his throat.

With a slight jump, she whipped her head back to him. "Kallie, sir." She held out her little hand and gave him a firm shake. Well, as firm as an eight-year-old could give an old person with hands the size of baseball gloves.

"You're very polite! I can't wait to meet your parents," he beamed at her, not noticing the small flinch of her eye. Things don't always go nicely when her parents come to school. It's why she's always on her best behavior. "Well, I'm Mr. Flannigan."

He stood up straight and turned toward the class with a smile that was bright against his tan skin. "Class...this is Kalliope Hayes." So, he already knew her full name before she came into the room?

There was a pause as the students ceremoniously said, "Hi, Kalliope!"

Mr. Flannigan nodded as if the response was what he wanted. "Kalliope, why don't you tell us three fun things about yourself, and then we'll go into the lesson plan for today?"

Funny. He phrased it as if it were a question. But, when adults ask questions like that, they're more likely strong suggestions. So, she took one step forward and cleared her throat.

"Hi," she squeaked out. "My full name is Kalliope but I like Kallie better. Three things about me are..." She stalled a moment, forgetting every single fun thing about her. "Uh...I like bike riding...I'm really good at holding my breath!...and...I've never ice skated?"

Her green eyes look up to the teacher for approval as everyone claps politely. He's about to point to her seat when a small voice cuts him off. "How long??"

"Huh?" She asks as she scans the other kids for the voice.

The boy in the last row, second from her right and wearing a forest green hoodie peers past the rest of the students. "You said you're really good at holding your breath! How long?"

"Um, like, thirty-five seconds? I think," she responds uncertainly. It's been a while since the last time she had her sister time her. His brown eyes stare at her for a moment longer.

Then, he nods. "Nice." He grins at her in approval. She smiles a little wider in response and Mr. Flannigan tells her to take the only open seat left.

She walks toward the back, finding the open seat next to the kid who had questioned her breath-holding skills. As Mr. Flannigan starts the lesson plan, the boy leans over and offers his hand.

"I'm Shawn!" The eagerness of his voice makes her relax. Maybe she just made her first friend here. She takes his hand and shakes it a little. "Let's make up a secret handshake later at recess, okay?" She nods enthusiastically before they turn forward in their seats to pay attention.

Later at recess, Shawn and Kallie are standing under one of the shady trees on the playground, mixing an unnecessary amount of steps to their secret friendship handshake.

"Hey, Shawn! Come play tag!" Some other kids begin to call him to play games with them.

He looks over at Kallie. "Wanna come play?"

"No, thanks," she shakes her head causing her light brown hair to rustle in the wind, "I don't really like tag." He shrugs and squints at her a little, but accepts her answer before running off to join the game.

She decides to take a stroll along the fence to see if she could find some cool rocks to take home for the new garden her parents were gonna plant. As she does, she sees a boy crouched down with his hands cupped around something. He's wearing a jean jacket over his white T-shirt.

As she approaches, she calls out excitedly, "Watchya got in your hand?" The boy startles, his hands opening to let a frog jump out. He hurriedly reaches out and catches it again as Kallie takes a step back. She notes how carefully he cups his hand around it.

"A frog," he says plainly and he sounds slightly similar to...who does he sound like?

Her face contorts in minor disgust. "Why?" Is all she asks. When he turns to look at her, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I thought you went to play tag!"

"What?" He asks in genuine ignorance.

She looks him over and her brows come even closer together. "How did you change your clothes so fast, Shawn?"

"I'm not Shawn," he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

"What do you mean? You said your name was Shawn in class today," she reminds him.

He silently sticks his tiny closed fist through the fence to release the frog toward its home. Standing up, he wipes his hand on his jeans. "That's my brother. I'm Raul." He sticks out his frog contaminated hand.

"Oh, so you're like twins?" She swallows her squeamishness and shakes his hand quickly, then wipes it on the back of her shorts.

He shrugs. "You could say that." With that, he walks past her without another word. She turns and watches him run to another group of kids who are playing on the monkey bars.

She heads back to the tree, collapsing against its bark to enjoy the rest of recess. Her relaxing doesn't last long as something drops into her lap from above. "Ow!" She exclaims and opens her eyes to find a notebook in her lap.

"Sorry!" A voice calls out from above. She looks up quickly and finds an increasingly familiar face looking down at her.

His puppy dog eyes match his apologetic smile. Kallie sighs deeply. "Now, when did you get up there??" She was seriously starting to think she'd never woken up this morning.

"I've been here all recess!" He replies with an adorable smile. "Can you hand that back to me?" He asks, laying on his stomach to reach down.

She stands, stretching on her tiptoes to hand it back. Kallie then sees that he's wearing neither a green hoodie nor a jean jacket. Instead, he's wearing a blue, plaid button-up shirt. She frowns. "Don't tell me there's another one of you?"

"Huh?" He quirks his eyebrow for a moment. "Oh! You mean my brothers! Shawn and Raul?" She nods, but in her mind, she hopes it stops at three. Already, she could tell she'd never be able to tell them apart. "I'm Peter!"

"Why are you in a tree with a notebook?"

"It keeps me from getting hit by the dodgeballs while I'm trying to draw." He scrunches up his face like it's obvious. "Duh," he adds on.

The apparent obviousness of the statement makes her giggle. "What are you drawing?" She asks curiously.

He pauses for a long moment, sizing her up. Then, an adorable grin spreads across his lips. "Climb up here, and I'll show you," he half-invites, half-challenges her.

"Okay!" Without hesitation, she rolls the sleeves up on her Princess Belle shirt and scales the tree with only minimal effort.

Peter watches her settle in on the branch next to him in awe. "That was really fast!"

"Thanks!" She beams at him. "My sister can't climb so when she chases me with gross stuff I had to find somewhere to hide," she informs him happily.

He laughs and scoots next to her as he opens his notebook across both of their laps. Slowly, he flips through the pages to show her the different drawings. "These are really good!" She compliments him.

"Really?" He asks shyly. Kallie nods vigorously and continues to marvel at the sketches. Peter smiles and watches her admire his work for a few minutes more.

But, they're not alone for much longer. "Kallie? Where'd you go?" She looks over the notebook below them. Shawn is looking around the base of the tree.

"Up here!" She giggles. His head turns toward the sound of her voice. "Peter was showing me some drawings!"

Shawn covers the urge to frown with a bright smile. "Come down! We gotta finish our super-secret handshake before recess is over," he reminds her.

"One second!" She calls down and turns to Peter. "I gotta go. Thanks for letting me see your notebook!" Then, she carefully climbs down the tree.

Once she hops onto the ground, Shawn slings an arm around her shoulders as he leads her away. "Our handshake is gonna be so awesome! And it'll be just for us! You know what else? You can come with me and my family to our lake house to ice skate in the winter since you've never been!" He chatters happily as he leads her further away from Peter.

From that day on, the two of them were inseparable. That day was the first time the boys had gotten jealous or competitive over Kallie. But, it wasn't the last.

It was disorienting at first, never knowing who was who. Except for Shawn, of course. Kallie could always tell which one was Shawn because out of the three, those two were the ones joined at the hip. Not to say that she didn't grow close with the rest of the boys. Just that Shawn was who she was close with first.

Throughout the years, they were like the Four Musketeers. Getting into all kinds of trouble and mischief. They enjoyed the best of their times throughout the year at the Mendes' cabin in the Muskoka Lake District. Since the very first year they became friends, their parents were kind enough to bring her along on all of their little trips.

Occasionally, her parents and sister came along. Which was nice because a majority of the other parents didn't take kindly to hers. She loved that they were so kind and included them in their trips. That cabin became like a lifeline to them as the years wore on.

They shared every holiday, celebrated every event, and recovered from unexpected hard times at that cabin. Christmas time? They went to the cabin. Someone's birthday? The cabin was there. The worst time of their lives? The cabin saw that too.

The four of them could never imagine not having that cabin, or each other to get through life. Which is why it hurt all the more when they got the news. After graduating high school, the four of them went on to university. Together.

While they all had different majors, it was hard to find time for each other at first. So, they made it a rule to have dinner every Saturday night at one of their dorms. Rotating between them as hosts to the gathering. Which became easier when they all moved in together after the first two years of having to live in the dorms. They were now coming off of their third year of university with one left to go.

As the four of them piled into Shawn's Jeep for the trip home with their bags stuffed in the back, excitement floated through the air to finally be able to relax for a time before heading back to Toronto for the most important year of schoolwork.

"Shotgun!" Kallie, Peter, and Raul call at the same time as they race toward the front seat.

The three slam into the side of the vehicle with laughter. Looking to Shawn to be the referee, he rolls his eyes. "Kallie got there first," he chuckles.

"C'mon!" Peter groans.

"You always let her have it," Raul mumbles as he slides into the backseat.

"My Jeep, my rules," Shawn shrugs and buckles into the driver's seat with a chuckle.

Kallie happily hops into the front seat, smiling at Shawn before turning to grab her seatbelt. "Thank you!" As she buckles it, she exchanges a secret glance with Shawn and he winks at her.

"Anytime," he responds as she bites her bottom lip to contain her laugh.

With that, the four set off toward home. Well, more like toward the cabin. They were planning on stopping at their houses to see their families first and then spend the rest of the summer in Muskoka.

Half an hour later, the boys drop Kallie off at her parents' house before heading down the street to theirs. "Dinner at ours at six?" Peter confirms as she grabs her bags out of the back.

"Mhm," she replies and walks around to his window, while Raul gets out and gets in the front seat. "And then breakfast at mine at ten tomorrow?"

He nods with a grin. "We'll be here!" She mumbles a 'perfect' and leans through the window to kiss his cheek and he kisses hers at the same time, something they've gotten in the habit of doing when they part ways. Shawn shifts his grip on the steering wheel as he watches them in the mirror.

"See you tonight!" Raul calls as his eyes trail after her, lower than they should be when she disappears into her house. Shawn reaches over and slaps the back of his head. "Ow!!" He rubs the new sore spot with a chuckle as Shawn pulls away from the curb.

Later, as promised, she enters the Mendes household as if she lives there. She's right on time for dinner, but it's unusually quiet around the house. "Hello?"

"In here!" Someone calls after a long moment of silence.

Kallie makes her way into the living room where the brothers are seated on the couch. "Hey! What's going on? Why is it so quiet?" She questions as she sits in between Shawn and Peter's legs, stretching her own across Peter's lap and resting her feet in Raul's.

"Mom has news," Shawn says surprisingly seriously. It's then that Kallie notices the shock on their faces and that Karen is sitting in one of the other chairs.

She leans her torso back into Shawn and shrugs. "What is it? Bad news?" They nod and she looks at Karen as she takes a deep breath.

"Well, sweetie," she begins sweetly. "As I've just finished telling the boys..." she pauses, gathering the strength to tell her. "We've decided to sell the cabin."

Kallie's expression falls into the same shock that the boys wear and she feels like her whole body goes numb. "Wh-no. H-how...why-no!" She finally stutters out.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I know how much that cabin means to you all," she sighs. "But...we just can't afford to keep up with it year-round anymore. Especially, since we haven't been back since you all were in high school."

Her eyebrows furrow together in confusion. "Wha..." she breathes out, unable to think straight. To stop her mind from spinning, she focuses on the things around her.

Like the feel of Shawn's heartbeat against her back and the rhythm of his breathing. Like the goosebumps on her legs caused by Peter lightly tracing his fingers over her knees. Like the cold metal of Raul's rings as he squeezes her ankles comfortingly.

"When are you selling it?" Raul asks, taking charge of the situation. It's something he tends to do as the oldest of the three brothers. When things get tough, he steps in to steady everyone.

Karen shrugs. "We haven't found a buyer yet."

"Well," he sighs. "Then, we're still gonna go out for the summer. And every chance we get until you sell it. We can clean and pack up stuff along the way."

She smiles gratefully at him. "Thank you, honey. I hope you all enjoy the summer there...you deserve it before your last year at university!" She smiles, the tension slightly diffused but not dissipated. "Dinner will be ready soon."

Then, she silently heads to the kitchen to leave the four of them alone. Kallie shifts her body to stand up and face the boys. One hand goes to her hip as her eyes train on the carpet. With the other, she pushes some loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna..." she trails off, not having any words. "I'll be outside," she whispers and immediately exits the room.

Shawn leans forward to stand up. "I'll get her-"

"No. Lemme handle it," Raul interrupts and follows her without another word.

Sitting back down defeatedly, Shawn looks at Peter. "The hell was that about? Thought I was her best friend..." he grumbles.

"We're all best friends," Peter reminds him. "Besides...they have been closer since the twelfth grade." He shrugs and pulls his sketchbook out of his bag.

Shawn's brows crease together and then rise on his forehead. "You don't think they're-" He stops himself short because he doesn't even want to go there.

"What?" Peter looks up from the sketch he's working on. His face falls flat when he sees Shawn's panicked look. "Oh my god! They're not. Raul isn't even Kallie's type," he scoffs and focuses on the bright green irises he's drawing, only slightly concerned that Shawn may be right.

Shawn twists his features into an offended sort of confusion. "Her type? We all have the same face!"

"Yeah, but none of us are dating her...are we?" Peter scoffs dismissively.

"No," Shawn grumbles as he sinks further into the couch and crosses his arms grumpily.

Raul steps out onto the porch, barely squinting his eyes at the now-setting sun. Kallie's ash brown hair catches the light stunningly, almost as if it were milk chocolate silk. The red undertones give her hair a cinnamon-like shine you can only see under the sun. He sits next to her on the top step as she hugs her knees to her chest and rests her chin there.

He doesn't say anything as he leans back, letting his palms press into the wood. Time ticks by and he doesn't talk. She doesn't talk. Her body just slowly tips toward Raul until she's collapsed into his side. He feels her sigh heavily and he scoots closer to circle his arm around her waist.

"This isn't the end of the world," he promises like he always does when she gets like this. She huffs, annoyed that he seems to always downplay her sadness at first. "I'm serious."

She sits up, turning on the step to stare at him direly. "Oh, are you? I couldn't tell," she deadpans. "I know it's not the end of the world, Raul...that doesn't mean this all still doesn't suck," she murmurs as her hands move to her words.

"Life's allowed to suck," he chuckles. She watches the light dance in his hazel eyes and sighs. "You're even allowed to wallow about it," he continues.

She throws herself into his lap dramatically. "Then, let me wallowwww," she whines playfully. He rests his arm across her torso.

"But-"

"No...no buts," she begs as she turns her face into his stomach to hide. She curls her legs up until she's almost in a ball on her side.

Raul gently strokes her back. "But," he says pointedly, "you're not allowed to wallow forever. Eventually, you have to pull on your big girl pants and show life who it's messing with."

"You're so lame," she laughs and ventures a peek up at him.

He tilts his head and smiles smugly. "Got you to laugh didn't I?" She nods slightly. "I know how much the cabin means to you. It means that much to all of us," he soothes her.

"I somehow always forget that you guys feel it too," she whispers.

Raul moves his hand to brush her hair out of her face. "I'll make you a deal," he begins. Her attention peaks because he always offers her the same deal and she'd never pass it up. No matter what it is. "Suck it up for now. You can wallow when the place is actually sold."

"What do I get for pulling on my big girl pants?" She challenges.

He scrunches up his face in obvious sarcasm. "What do you always get?"

"Prom night?" She replies hopefully.

"Prom night," he confirms mischievously.

14 notes · View notes

retphienix · 4 years ago

Text

It's been 6 years :)

On March 30th, 2015 I decided I wanted a gaming side blog. (so we're early, but shush, it's the month for me)

I didn't know what I'd use it for exactly, but I had ideas- something I always have even if most of them only get as far as daydreamin' or writing out before closing them :P

For proof on the lack of direction the blog initially had- the March 30th date is the anniversary of my first post, an in-depth and lengthy review of Dragon Warrior Monsters for the GBC.

If you know the blog then you know "Extremely long and in-depth reviews" aren't the norm around here. As a matter of fact, that first post is the ONLY one I've done!

The closest I've come to ever repeating that would be the (word of the day) Directionless video I put out on Hades to get a grip on the concept of making videos, but that wasn't nearly as much of a 'review' as that first post is.

Tangent, definitely planning on trying my hand at videos some more for the foreseeable future. Probably not gonna use the tagline Full Impressions that I tossed as a whim for the Hades video but yeah- I'm excited to try my hand at a few videos :) tangent over.

It didn't take me long to come up with what I'd like to do for the blog though :)

A few months later I liveblogged a challenge run of FFT where I used only Ramza- a solo run. - Which maybe only happened because I tried a nuzlocke run a year prior on my main account-

(Nuzlocke | FFT challenge run)

Thanks to that haphazard liveblog experiment I started to realize a couple things which became the primary motivators behind this blog.

1) I LOVE sharing experiences. No brainer, I'm sure, but being able to share my experiences, and compare them with others' experiences, and just that mutual sharing is uplifting and feels good to do.

2) Liveblogging is an EXCEPTIONAL motivator to buckle down and play all those games I said I'd play (cue everyone laughing because I'm still way behind and have an immeasurable backlog).

But I mean that, on both respects. I have plenty of motivators toward the blog today, but if I were to be concise it's pretty much "It's easier to beat games if I liveblog them- otherwise I get distracted and play other games" and "I love sharing experiences and thoughts with people about my favorite thing- games."

Since 2015 I've tackled around 70 games as full playthroughs, and an untold ton as one offs or just to ramble about for a bit.

I've had a lot of highlights over the years, and I don't talk much about it as an overall experience so I thought for the anniversary I'd try to do just that. Not everything- I can't say I have photographic memory that would bring all of it up without prompting after all :P But whatever comes to mind as I browse some of my old stuff- as well as some thoughts on what I'd like to see in the future.

It's gonna be a bit self-centric I assume as I type this preamble to it, so let me say outright that this blog wouldn't be half of what it is without all the people who've given it the time of day over the years.

From recommending games they love or appreciate, to comparing thoughts, to offering kind words for analysis I've done over the years, to pointing out when I'm dumb and misread a situation :P- to, yes, even the people who decided "Fuck this guy's ramble" and deleted my captions before reblogging my gifs way back during Hamtaro (Of COURSE I remember that! It's amusing lol).

This is better because of others, because of the interactions and the people I've gotten the chance to chat with or befriend. It's just a liveblog more or less, my own little bit of fun I toss out for myself if for anyone- so seeing others enjoy this or that from the work I put into sharing my experiences or thoughts is always a joy in itself :)

Anyway, onto selfishly rambling about some tidbits of the past :)

Also sorry but no, opted to not shove a ton of photos in, it does have a handful of links to old posts though :P

This'll be disorganized as heck as I'll add to it over time before I feel it's worth posting (or the tumblr post editor becomes a hassle and more or less forces me to).

First~

FFT Solo Ramza Challenge: Considering it was roughly the first thing this blog has done, it's also something that's stuck in my head a lot more clearly than most of the other stuff I've done to be honest lol.

In truth, this is partially because FFT is my favorite game, bar none. But it's also because the whole experience was pretty new to me. Prior to it I had really only done one self-imposed-challenge that wasn't requested by the game in some manner and that was a nuzlocke run of Blue version.

So adding a challenge to my favorite game was a fantastic experience!

Notes I just wanted to say today about that run: If anyone enjoys FFT I honestly recommend giving it a shot for the unique story it lends itself to. I do recommend skipping the rules until after the second battle but that's up to YOU to decide.

My first post on the subject is me complaining about spending 4 hours grinding out the second fight and, despite hyperbole being my natural state, that was NOT hyperbole.

It DID take 60~ restarts to beat. It DID take 4 hours. The reason is that that 2nd battle is RNG as HECK, you HAVE to have Delita do some meaningful actions, you HAVE to have the enemies miss and make poor plays, you damn near HAVE to crit a few instances to save yourself from taking too much damage.

It's a numbers game to the extreme, so I wouldn't fault anyone for 'cheating' and skipping the 2nd fight for the ruleset lol.

The memory that stands out the most for that run is actually isolated in a post in which Ramza (Purrick in this run) talks like a total badass as just ONE DUDE running into a room full of enemies. I just think on that as a great encapsulated view of what it was like. The run started off face grindingly difficult, but because FFT is a game that offers so much freedom to the player it was extremely easy to 'break' the game into making Purrick overpowered as hell.

That's something I love about some tactical RPGs, I love having the ability to play smart so that I can play stupid later on, and breaking the game into making him one shot god is certainly a good payoff for playing smart early on :P

RetQuick: I miss RetQuick, it was primarily a short experiment I did in 2015 where I'd play a game for a short span of time (REALLY short, like 10-20 minutes) and record that for the purpose of making gifs and saying a short piece on what I thought.

It's one of those formats where the purpose was pretty shallow- but had a reason. I wanted to try making some gifs with some tools that existed online, so I made an excuse to do just that.

I also wanted to play a TON of games, usually through emulation on my sister's PSP, and this let me do that.

These two minor goals came together and so I spent a while making RetQuicks which were honestly more fun to make than they had any right to be. I mean the gifs were tedious but the playing? The thought sharing? The end product ocassionally having more appeal than just a photoset? It was fun.

I'm thinking whenever I have trouble picking a game for the blog I'll revisit the format... sorta.

I already reused it for a short stint to show clips I had no plan on expanding into a playthrough, but that died as well as it was too similar to Tidbits posts (another tag I no longer really use).

My thought is to rebrand retquick as something of a tryout for what game comes next. Play a handful of my backlog games for an hour or so each and say some thoughts before saying which one I'll continue as the main game for that period of time.

Old Tag Stuff: One of those things that only sticks to me since I made the decisions but it's always funny for me to look back on my old posts because I was apprehensive as hell toward making my posts visible. The reason my early playthroughs on the My-Tags page are variants of Ret instead of just "The name of the game so people can find this post" is because I felt like a liveblog would just spam the tag to hell-

Something I don't remotely feel bad for doing anymore.

So I avoided getting any sort of spotlight for quite a while on the blog for little reason.

Why Retphienix?: This is just a dumb thought I wanted to share and I'm sure I've said before.

It stands for retro!

Yeah!

Ain't that dumb and also not a real shorthand? lol

I think I have some sort of deer in headlights anxiety towards naming things, I mean do you think I think Full Impressions is a good summation for a video? I don't. But perhaps that's overshadowed by the other inexperiences and anxiety driven decisions that had- doesn't matter.

Retphienix is Retphienix because I sat there in 2015 and thought "Well... what do I name an alt account?"

My main is Redphienix, which yes, is ALSO a terrible name AND is misspelled. But it's that because of sentimental reasons. As a kid I misspelled Redphoenix when making my gamertag (I knew how to spell Phoenix back then as well, I was too excited about xbox live and misspelled it) and it's become something of a sentimental misspelling.

So I wanted to make a mix on that for my game blog, but I had no idea what. In the end I thought "RetroPhienix? I don't know. Retphienix is closer to Redphienix. I'll do that" and so it was done.

And just like how Redphienix is both bad and misspelled but exists because of sentimental reasons- Retphienix has acquired the same 'flavor' in my eye lol.

Aspirations for the blog: I have no immediate ramp up plans or road map or whatever, and in truth I'll be happy if the blog stays just as it is forever- up until tumblr ends- I cry over lost posts- and I reopen it on another platform.

But I do have blurry half-considered daydreams that I'd like to see happen for the blog through some hard work or shifts on my part.

One is something I'm already doing kinda, hence my embarrassing means of bringing it up a lot lately. Videos- I want those. I wanna make some looks back on series people don't talk about that I enjoy, I want to make videos sharing my thoughts on games I beat for the blog (like what full impressions kinda was, but I don't think they'll have a unified name from here on out). Maybe retrospectives, but mostly when I think of making a video tied to retphienix or me in general it's me looking at a game that said something to me, and saying it louder with my own interpretations on it.

You know the kind, videos where they talk about a video game but not the whole thing- just a singular message they really heard loud and clear from it intentionally or not. I dig those and I know I end a lot of games having plenty to say that could be directed into such a format.

We'll see.

And I'm along for the ride on that one as well- currently I'm keeping my eyes on whatever is directly next, which happens to be "I plan on playing Omori, if it clicks as something to talk about I would like to take a shot at that in a video too!"

The other is that I'd like to build a small community. Wouldn't know the first thing on doing that in a modern sense, but just a little online friend group to chat with and play games together. Something that could open up multiplayer and coop experiences being better shared on the blog and would just in general expand my gaming to what it used to be back on the 360 when I had a large group to play with.

Since the 360 era ended I've pretty much closed off- stopped playing competitive games due to lack of interest- and slowed down to playing all games either solo, with randoms (and no mic usually), or with my cousin. It's a rare instance when I play with some good people like @gamesception or another friend of mine, John.

When I diverted from playing competitive games nonstop toward other genres I didn't intend to also cut out all my online gaming buds, it just kinda happened, and I never really put any effort into rectifying that.

So more or less I'd like to one day sit down and work on a discord server, and then buck up and put the leg work in to make some gamin' buds again, but that's such a vague concept anymore.

Sounds all sad and what not but it's more ambivalent, I made decisions that

changed how gaming worked for me after the 360 and this is just where it landed for better and worse- I'd just like to see if I can make it a little better :P

General things I think when I think retphienix: Honestly? I think of how much fun I've had over the years and how thankful I am to have had an outlet that encouraged me to explore more of the medium.

I REALLY love games. I went to college for games, I've written LEAGUES about games, I've played countless games, my childhood was games, my adult life is games- games games games yada yada yada.

So when I think of retphienix I think of how without it I probably wouldn't have explored a lot of the corners of gaming that I have.

I genuinely, and I mean this, might not have sat down and beaten FF7 for myself and would have considered the amount I played as a kid to be enough.

I might not have played Chrono Trigger yet, and I KNOW I wouldn't have played Chrono Cross, and I'm happy as hell to have played both of those. CT was a mind blowing moment for me that showed me just how good an RPG can be, and CC gave me miles to think of in terms of innovating an RPG and how beholden to the narrative a sequel should be (I don't feel CC should have been chrono at all lol).

I DEFINITELY wouldn't have given New Vegas another chance. And I know I'm a sourpuss on NV, I've been that way since I maxed my achievements on the 360 for it, but replaying it really did reveal to me how exceedingly negative I was being.

My memories had become "It's brown and a boring location >:(" and "The factions all suck and it doesn't do anything with the idea of bad factions >:(" and became "It's... a little brown guys, not a big fan of the area" and "They didn't do enough with exploring the gray factions" while adding "Wait. This is pretty damn fun. And 90% of the additions are stellar. And I forgot about Dead Money, my favorite dlc in any game ever with a story that tears at my heart every time I think of it, NV good actually?"

Faxanadu would have remained a cool game I saw on SSFF and not a game I played to the end and fell in love with the aesthetic feel it has!

Also that's a game I cheated like crazy on lol, I would do it again! Save state scumming games meant to be rudely difficult is only fair :P

I probably would have never sat down to play through Windwaker which was such a positive and uplifting experience that I now get the most relaxed and warm feeling in my heart when I see those blue waves.

There's so many experiences I would have left on the table in favor of like... putting more hours into a live service title or something.

Maybe, and no offense to my cousin or anyone else playing it, but maybe I'd be no-lifing World of Warcraft nonstop just stagnating my interest toward the skinner box mechanics of an MMO?

Some offense, actually but lightheartedly lol.

But beyond the entire games I've played for the blog, when I think retphienix I picture all the time making gifs, all those games I played on the PSP for short stints, buying a retron 5 to add to what I could explore and being stoked when they shipped a freebie box of old controllers to go with it, getting angry at the retron for being a Piece Of Shit lol, crying at the end of damn near every game with an emotional story because I'm a big emotional mess of a person who finds investing and crying at a story way too easy thanks to empathy pulls, oh!-

Getting excited whenever I found that I had a "*controversial*" opinion that no one would care about lol. Like the one that comes to mind is that I thoroughly believe that Dragon Ball Z II: Gekishin Freeza!! for the NES is WAY better than the fandom recognized and appreciated sequel/remake Dragon Ball Z: Legend of the Super Saiyan!

How many people do you hear talking about either game, let alone saying the NES game that is roughly half of the SNES remake is the better one :P But I stand by that! The SNES one is a remake of DBZ1 and 2 for the NES but it loses all the charm and some of the fun of the NES ones by being a lackluster SNES game!

lol

I admitted wholeheartedly that this post would be a lit-

little directionless (gotta love the new tumblr poster making me break sentences like that), but to sum things up.

It's been 6 years. It's been an untold amount of work to be honest- liveblogging a game, at least for me, hasn't been the easiest thing. It's a lot of thinking out my thoughts (heh), it's a lot of learning tools to make the capturing process possible, it's a lot of experimenting, it's a lot of writing and editing, and, well, sometimes it's just tough.

I mean I went to school for coding, not video editing, not writing, not image processing, not this or that- but this hobby has introduced a lot of things even if only at a VERY base level (I admit fully to using online alternatives to make gifs for instance).

I learned a lot about, well, a lot of things in order to use this blog to learn more about games- and all that work has become part of why I've loved all 6 years of this blog.

6 years of gaming, work, and you all- and it's been worth the investment :) Here's to many more and all of you whether you stumble upon this post or not- literally anyone who's interacted in these 6 years, thank you, and anyone who hasn't I offer you well wishes as well.

#Retphienix #gaming #video games #gaming liveblog

5 notes · View notes

causticsunshine · 4 years ago

Note

i totally feel your tags on that last post. staying motivated when you're a content creator is so hard when the majority of people in a fandom straight up refuse to like or reblog shit or refrain from commenting on certain posts because it 'ruins the aesthetics' and then it gets even more disheartening when people say the fandom's dying. i've had people ghost me so bad I've literally thought they left tumblr altogether but no? they just unfollowed me bc i couldn't keep posting daily?

SORRY THIS TOOK AWHILE TO REPLY TO BABE AKJSDG I GOT REALLY CAUGHT UP IN THINKING OUT LOUD.....

but oof i’m sorry you’ve had such a tough go at it with your work 💞💞 i’ve definitely had vey similar experiences throughout several fanbases over the years and i think those issues have just gotten worse with the time, at least in my experience?

tbh i think each fan community including its smaller subsets—different pairings, single characters, etc.—has it’s own like, overarching mentality when it comes to content and creators, but what i’ve seen happening the last few years in general, is that overall there’s this obsession with aesthetics so you don’t reblog things that could ruin that—or even reblog at all!! then what’s the gd point of using this platform??—and you don’t want to be ‘annoying’ so you don’t send asks to people or talk outside your tags or tack your own ideas or a nice comment on the end of a shared post you really liked, thus there’s this overall lack of actual support for creators followed by this ironic complaining about people leaving fandom or content feeling repetitive, etc....

you’re allowed to have preferences and favorites and and things you hate or are annoyed by, whatever, so i don’t think anyone should expect you to share stuff you don’t care about or like, but like...how are you not even gonna share stuff you do like??

honestly lmao how is that one fanfic post gonna mess up your queue....how is that cute drawing going to fuck up your Aesthetic....like god we’re on a blogging platform built around sharing content, how do you think shit pops up on your dash in the first place? how it ends up anywhere on here? and idk how to tell y’all this but uhhh this ain’t twitter so no one’s gonna see your gd likes out of nowhere...and i know you’re not gonna go back to them later and reblog all those posts, m’kay...

tbh i just wanna scream it to people that if you want to see more content than the same three headcanon posts and one artist’s work alone and fic that’s different than the one group of writers you follow who all only write that one thing you’re not really into, then reblog more than just the singular “trending” content that you’re only sharing because a bigger blogger posted or shared it! follow more people! hell, use the explore page! send posts to your friends that you think they’d like!

oh, and it’s okay to add stuff onto someone’s post if you like where it’s going or even if you’ve done something similar and want people to know about your take on the idea! it’s great to send nice messages to people saying you like their work because i can guarantee it’s going to brighten their day even a little bit, maybe even motivate them to make more things you’ll enjoy!

and listen if someone thinks your addition is annoying or stupid or they don’t agree with it or even think you should’ve just kept in the tags then like....they’ll reblog a different version lmao, and that shouldn’t affect you.

it can really all be solved through us just interacting with other people and content more?? and not being so obsessed with Aesthetics + unlearning the mindset that everything we do is Annoying is definitely going to help with that you know that one post, “everything’s cringe bitch, let’s get you some interests”...it really do be like that.

like the lovely @hartigays was saying: it’s not one singular blogger/creator/small group’s fault that something blows up and that’s all anyone talks about or supports from then on and that’s why other creators and types of content get ignored; it’s everyone that follows their lead because we haven’t exhausted the mentality that someone’s “status”—even in fandom of all places jfc—means that their likes and dislikes are God Tier and we need to follow their lead because they’re the beacon of taste...no...whatever they post or share? it just happens to sometimes reach more people directly. it doesn’t mean it’s all what’s good or all there is.

really it’s not that hard to find more varied content, people are just....idk. like just go look through tags and peoples’ blogs and reblog shit more often and woo, problem solved if more of us do that? like algorithms be damned, there are tools on every social media platform to help you find the stuff and people you’re looking for?

and when it comes to the ghosting, anon, on a separate note....some people are just dicks, unfortunately, and i’m sorry you’ve had to go through that. having that and/or seeing esp friends or mutuals literally reblog around your content even if it’s in their realm of interests, feels like a slap to the face. tbqh i’ve really just stopped trusting when people make these grandiose promises of commitment bc most never actually follow through, or they jet the second you can’t post, want to do something different, whatever, because, what, you’re suddenly not serving them directly anymore, or they’re reminded content creation requires practice and effort and time from real people? it’s bullshit either way and if someone drops you like that, that’s on them, not on you or your work 💕

long post short: interact with people and reblog/share their content if you actually want to keep seeing content. solely leaning on bigger bloggers and creators for all your content needs is going to limit options and alienate people, so share the love, hunt for things up your alley, and curate a space specific to your tastes, not others.

you don’t need to be devoted to someone with your heart and soul or share content you don’t like for the sake of appearances, but sharing more content and interacting with people really does benefit everyone!

#discourse #anon #answered #i'M SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I NEVER GET ANONS AND I GOT EXCITED TO TALK #for once it didn't feel like i was yelling into the void so ty babe whoever you are #i hope you have better experiences in the future + sorry each...paragraph has a different tone to it #my excuse is i reread a lot of this at 4am and i'm an insomniac with ADHD

2 notes · View notes

panharmonium · 5 years ago

Text

just some thinky thoughts about fandom platforms and community that i didn’t know what to do with, so i wrote them down.

[tl;dr - tumblr is weird, pan misses (certain aspects of) Ye Olde Days]

tumblr is such a weird platform.

like. i love my blog as a personal repository of stuff i enjoy, and i’m definitely thrilled to have met the people i’ve met on here - some of them have even become my friends outside the internet, and that’s been absolutely lovely. but in terms of actual functionality when it comes to trying to engage in a fandom...it’s still weird.

i know people will probably get tired of all the “BACK IN MY DAY” fandom analysis posts that float around on this website, but even having been here for years now, it is still really hard for me to adjust to a place that makes it so impossible to find any kind of actual fandom community spaces.

for me, i didn’t even start using tumblr until i was in my mid-twenties, and that was only because tumblr was where most people from LJ had migrated. i’d been Doing Fandom for over a decade prior to that, on other platforms (fandom specific sites/archives and then LJ), so i ended up here kind of out of necessity - the great fandom migration was already mostly complete, by the time i moved.

so i got here, and i got settled, but fandom on tumblr has been so different from fandom as i experienced it anywhere else, and that’s not the fault of any of its users; it’s just an inevitable function of the way this site is structured.

it is SO HARD for us to connect with people on here!

just, as an example from my own more recent life - i’ve been doing a lot of merlin stuff lately, right? that’s where my head is at and that’s what i’m having the most fun with and i would love to be more interactive with people about it, like - to have folks to geek out with about it, you know, to do the things that fandom is for - and if i were on, say, livejournal, back in the day, i would know where to go to do those things. there would be specific spaces built for just that purpose. LJ comms were places where everybody who was interested in a particular thing could go for the express purpose of posting and discussing and interacting about that thing! people still maintained their own personal blogs, but they also belonged to whichever LJ communities reflected their interests. LJ comms and fandom-specific sites were fandom hubs - it was so easy to find what you were looking for.

this functionality doesn’t exist in any meaningful way on tumblr. big, moderated groups/communities aren’t a thing tumblr truly supports. there’s no way for me to go join the “merlin” comm and just be in community with a large group of people who just wanna talk about merlin. the limited “group blog” functionality on tumblr is so non-conducive to actual usage that community spaces like those just don’t really exist, not like Back In The Day.

fandom on tumblr is so very decentralized. the way things are set up here forces all of us to just make posts on our individual blogs, which then might get picked up and put on other people’s individual blogs, maybe. you can’t like...make something (X) Fandom related and drop it in the (X) Fandom LJ Comm like “hey look, something fun to talk about!” you could put it in “The Tag,” but anyone who’s been here for any length of time knows how useful doing that actually is. and you could post it on your individual blog, but it won’t necessarily reach anybody who might want to geek out with you, not if you’re not already followed by someone in that fandom.

and the only other option is to invite yourself onto someone else’s individual blog, which is a) inefficient, when you’re looking for wider community, and b) not something a Painfully Reserved Person is wont to do.

the analogy that works best for me is this: pre-tumblr, fandom hangouts were community spaces. they were cafés with a sign hanging out front saying “star wars here!” or “kanan/hera here!” or “X here!” if you wanted to geek out about a particular thing, you would go to the café and meet a bunch of other people there.

nowadays, if you want to geek out about a particular thing, you have to barge into a stranger’s house. and not everyone is comfortable with that.

the lack of real, threaded comments is also just...i don’t know how to express how detrimental this is to communication and community. i mean, i understand that tumblr’s entire “reblog” system doesn’t really allow it to be a thing, but tumblr’s entire mechanic as a fandom platform has to be questioned, in that case.

how impossible is it to have a conversation on here, the way tumblr is set up right now? i mean - let’s say you make a post, right? one person reblogs it and adds their own text to it; another person reblogs the original version, but says something different in the tags. a third person doesn’t reblog it at all, but hits “reply” on your original post. a fourth person “replies” also, but to the second person’s reblog, in response to the additional content.

NONE OF YOU ARE HAVING THE SAME CONVERSATION. none of you are even aware that the other conversations are happening. the idea of trying to build an actual cohesive fandom community like that is just...impossible. it can’t happen.

when i reblog posts on tumblr, i feel like i’m a dragon collecting a little hoard of shiny things she likes, only i never actually see another person, because i live in a cave.

everybody here lives in a cave.

and like...this is just philosophical, i guess, but. tumblr’s focus on “follower count” and notes is also a thing i don’t really know how to handle.

having people “follow” me makes me feel weird. seeing that people are “following” this blog exerts a bizarre external pressure, as if my little house here could ever be for anybody who isn’t me. it prompts a tiny 'but should you?’ in the back of my head when i post about something that isn’t what all those people came here for, which is ridiculous, because this was never supposed to be a blog for any fandom in particular; it was just a blog for me. i was the only one here when i started, and i literally never did anything to try and get people to come here and join me. it happened accidentally, because bigger blogs than me picked up some star wars stuff i made and passed it around.

but of course, on tumblr, making connections gets conflated with follower/note count, and understandably so, because besides having a higher follower count (aka wider distribution), how are people ever going to reach the other people who are into the same thing they are?

for instance. let’s say you’re brand new to tumblr. you want to get involved in X fandom. there’s no community space here where a new blog with no followers can go and share their stuff with the right audience and meet all the other people who are also sharing their own work. unless you start messaging strangers, your tumblr time is pretty isolated.

whereas - i remember on lj comms, back when people would post as a newcomer, it would be like, ‘hey i’m so-and-so and i love xyz and here’s a picture i drew of x character!!!!’ - and people would actually respond to that. people responded to everything! like. tiny 400 word fics would have 30 comments, and all those people were talking with each other, not past each other, on the same page.

just for fun, while i was typing this up, i went through a month’s worth of posts on an old lj comm i used to frequent. not a single one of those posts was comment-less. every single post, even the tiniest, most insignificant one-line musing, had some amount of discussion attached to it.

whereas now - i don’t know if this is just confined to tumblr, or if it’s a general cultural shift, because even on AO3, i sometimes see people who have written massive sprawling epics and the comment field is just a desert. i once saw the exact same fic posted on ff.net, where it had 20 comments - and then on AO3, where it had zero.

and like, say what you will about ff.net (there’s...plenty to be said, certainly XD ) but commenting patterns were observably different there. and that’s all part and parcel of a bigger discussion, which isn’t really within the scope of these notes, except to say that it’s probably the source of my forever grudge match with AO3′s kudos button, which i realize is an absurdly silly thing to say and i’m smiling at myself even as i type this, but - i gotta be honest - i hate that thing! i can’t stand it! XD

i say that in the most good-natured way possible, obviously; this is fandom, after all, and it’s all for fun, and i love AO3 in every other way, so this is more a minor annoyance which makes me laugh at myself than anything else - but i say again - in the most fun-loving, self-deprecating way possible - that little button is my archnemesis. XD

i totally get why other people love it! it’s a completely reasonable way to feel! but for me, personally, coming out of an environment where the reward at the end of making something was getting to gush with somebody else, make a connection, talk about the thing that gave us So Many FEELS - the kudos button is so. sterile. and. empty. it doesn’t fulfill my urge to connect with people or share fannish enthusiasm in any way. i’d almost rather not even see kudos on my account, honestly, because it makes me feel more disappointed than anything else - like, “oh, man. look at all these missed fandom conversations we could have had.”

and obviously, this is in no way meant as disparaging to people who use the kudos button liberally. it is ALWAYS lovely to show appreciation for someone who wrote something you liked, however which way you are able, if and only if you are so inclined. nobody is obligated to leave feedback - lurkers are a perfectly accepted and long-celebrated fandom tradition; i belonged to that tradition myself, for most of my fandom life - so showing appreciation in any form is already going above and beyond. nobody needs to be harangued with “YOU SHOULD’VE COMMENTED” or “YOU SHOULD’VE REBLOGGED” - none of that stuff is required to participate in fandom; nobody owes comments or reblogs, and creators have to be okay with that. we can discuss and/or lament the structural factors that encourage or discourage participation, by all means, but ultimately we have to recognize that nobody is actually required to respond to things we make. it’s fandom. we’re all here by choice, and people’s participation levels are their own business.

and anyway, i know that lots of authors actually love getting kudos on their work, so my experience isn’t universal, by any means. it’s just a function of my own personal background, and the communities i used to run in - i speak for no one but myself and my own fannish life.

and besides, the entire debate about kudos/comments and like/reblog disparities doesn’t come anywhere near the underlying issues. it’s sometimes framed as “people not participating in fandom appropriately” (and that’s completely unfair; there’s no wrong way to do fandom when you’re not hurting anybody) as opposed to “what is it about our platforms that encourages or discourages participatory fan culture.” like - the only reason we even need to talk about the importance of reblogs vs. likes is because tumblr makes it so darn hard for a person’s stuff to be seen by the “right” people! reblogs are the only way for someone’s work to spread, and even then it’s kind of like throwing a handful of darts at a board and praying one of them will land in a well-connected spot. if a platform like tumblr were set up differently, we wouldn’t even need to have this conversation - there would be places to post your work where people would be specifically looking for content like what you were making. you could make those fannish connections more easily.

*** important to note, too - it’s always worthwhile to remember when reading these “back in the old days” nostalgia posts that pre-tumblr spaces had drawbacks of their own. livejournal was not some fannish utopia, by any means. there were, however, a few structural things from that era that i think were helpful influences on fan culture, and their absence here makes me miss them.

but anyways. those are just some thoughts. and now i’m going back to my regularly scheduled posting, because i DO enjoy this place, even if the platform can be somewhat lacking sometimes - we still have to find a way to have fun, right? that’s the entire point of being in fandom in the first place.

#i've always felt like tumblr was sort of a bizarre place for Fandom Central to have landed anyway #though i do think it's been amazing for graphics editors; gifset-makers especially #i do wonder where we'll end up next #whenever the next big migration hits #anyway back to regularly scheduled posting!#i've got episodes to get through #gotta keep up my momentum so i can GET TO THE END #:D #fandom

10 notes · View notes

bumblbytrash · 6 years ago

Text

My Just Right™️ Theory

So I know I’m not the only one who thinks Blake is Baby Bear. Or at least I hope I’m not alone.

I mean then again I literally never really see anyone else posting about it other than people reblogging my posts so fucking maybe.

But I’m really latched onto this head canon and y’all better buckle up cause I’ve got new thoughts to add to this crackpot theory.

Now, I’ve made a semi lengthy post about this already, which can be found here, and y’all should really go read that first bc I’m gonna gloss over what over already talked about and y’all will be confused. Now that post really only talks about Blake’s introduction as Baby Bear. But now I’ve got for y’all all the reasons how Blake fills the role of Baby Bear/ being Just Right™️ for Yang.

The first thing I wanna to clarify with y’all is the basics of Goldilocks and the three bears. Just cause I’m obv gonna talk about symbolism that I’m pulling from quite a lot and I want us all on the same page. So,

Goldilocks vs Papa Bear: porridge is too hot, bed is too stiff. Angry and mean, or passionate and protective.

Mama Bear: porridge is too cold, bed is too soft. Distant and bracing, or level headed and receptive.

But then Baby Bear’s stuff is Just Right™️. Y’all starting to get why I’ve also latched on to “Just Right™️”?

Second thing I’m gonna come right out and clarify is that yes. I am aware that Junior’s name means Baby Bear. Actually his name means Black Bear, the nickname Junior is what makes it Baby Black Bear. But I’m imagining the titles being a little flexible and applicable to multiple characters.

So cool, Yang fought two Ursai, one was “hot headed” and aggressive, attacked her up front. The other was a more “cool headed” passive one that watched at first, and the poof, Blake.

Baby Bear. But I wanna take it a step further. So let’s look at team RWBY

Papa Bear = Ruby. Yes I know, the Yang is far more hot headed and fiery than ruby but hear me out. In the scene immediately following Blake’s introductionas Baby Bear, we see Ruby rum into a situation without much thought. She makes a hot headed move to attack without double checking her surroundings and fucks up Weiss’ shot. Then, in the ensuing argument, Ruby loses her temper and cuts down a tree. That’s some pretty hot porridge right there.

Mama Bear = Weiss. I means come on, she’s literally called the ice queen. In the scene after Blake’s introduction as Baby Bear, Weiss is shown being ice cold and honestly a total bitch. She’s literally standing there surrounded by beowolves, slowly going down a check list. I’m not here to say that proper form isn’t important but woman. Don’t wait for the second ice age. Then after Ruby beats her to the punch she starts an argument and she’s really cold. Saying to Ruby that no, she’s not perfect but she’s leagues better than her. That porridge is FROZEN.

Baby Bear = Blake. Y’all. Do I even have to say it? They’re literally perfect for each other. Blake is Just Right™️ in so many ways. Blake’s the person that Yang has the deepest connection with. Blake’s the one who laughs/smiles the most at Yang’s stupid jokes or really even just at Yang because she’s there. Yang strives for Blake’s approval, she immediately tears up and visibly breaks down the second it seems like Blake doesn’t trust/believe her. And when Blake asks Yang to promise to her specifically, in return for Blake’s trust, Yang doesn’t even hesitate for a second. Makes eye contact and promises. Blake’s also like, the only person to show worry or concern over Yang in a fight. Then, after being separated from each other for around a year, they just fall back into sync as it nothing ever kept them apart. Sure, they had a bump of two I’m looking at you apathy barn but they were just that bumps that’s they got over in a snap.

I mean shit, even the color scheme lines up for team RWBY.

Next we get to look at our in-world family of bears: The Belladonna’s

Kali Belladonna. Y’all look at this sweet bean and tell me she isn’t the softest Mama Bear to ever soft.

Kali Belladonna isn’t ice cold in the way that Weiss is, she’s more cool and soft. She does silly things, teases her daughter about the boy that followed her home and doesn’t hesitate for a second to wrap her daughter up in a bear hug.

And damn if Ghira Belladonna isn’t intimidating as all shit

Ghira Belladonna is a damned force to be reckoned with. This man is the very definition of a hot headed, protective Papa Bear. Y’all cannot convince me other wise if you tried.

The Belladonna’s are admittedly a fav and I’m really just including them cause I can and it fits sooooooooo. Moving on:

So the last thing I wanna talk to y’all about is Yang’s abandonment issues. How we’ve seen it played out in the show and how it fits into my Baby Bear!Blake theory. And yes, I know this is reaching. Like shit, my spine popped, I was reaching so far up to this shelf but hear me out.

Yang has canonically been abandoned 3 times.

The first time was her birth mother, Raven Branwen.

Now we can only speculate on why Raven really left. Yang also, has no idea why Raven left, a fact that hit us over the head in V2. So for Yang’s entire life (tho she got some closure in V5) Yang has just built up bitterness and anger toward her mother. “How dare she leave, how could she just go, abandon her family like that.”

The second time was Summer Rose. But Summer didn’t chose to leave.

I mean yes she chose to leave for the mission, but she fully planned on returning. She was killed. The was a fight, a slip up, an accident, and Summer couldn’t make it back home. Yang more than likely spent her years wishing that maybe she or Tai or Qrow or anyone would have just gone with her, made sure that Summer was alright. Summer didn’t leave, she was taken away inexplicably and Yang would have felt sad. Lost and cold without her mother’s guidance.

The third time was Blake. And yes, our baby girl fucked up when she left, I’m not here to deny that.

So during the fall of beacon, Yang finds Blake on the ground under Adam who has just stabbed her. Keep in mind, Yang has spent the majority of her life wishing she or literally any one could have been there to save Summer. Wishing that someone could have prevented her loved one from being ripped away from her. And now, Blake is about to be killed in front of Yang’s very eyes.

Y’all damn know she flipped her shit. She is CRYING as she launches herself at Adam, so blinded by her need to make to Blake, to be there in time, to save her life. Y’all also know that she failed, pretty miserably in fact. But Blake didn’t care. She only cared that Yang had come at all, and was upset with herself for having brought Yang into her world of trauma. So she left. She left because she thought that that would protect Yang.

What’s different about Blake leaving is that she’s the only person who actually chose Yang. Sure the message didn’t come across to Yang right away, but that’s what happened. Blake chose Yang’s safety over her own safety, well being, and happiness.

And I know, I know, that what t probably hurt Yang more than anything was that Blake chose to leave her behind, like Raven had. Yang ultimately made her peace with Summer because that was out of anyone’s control. But Blake? We see in volume 5 we see that Yang is very VERY upset that Blake left. When Ruby tells Yang she wishes Blake was with them, Yang lashes out. Ruby pushed farther, prying, trying to force Yang into wanting Blake there and Yang snaps, of only for a moment.

Her eyes burn red and she is LIVID. Yang eventually gets up and sulks in her room while carressing Blake’s image in a group photo. And then, enter Weiss. Weiss says nothing as she enters the room. Just sits and lets Yang rant. Once Yang’s down Weiss speaks. Talks about her own traumas and her own family issues. And finally talks to Yang and convinces her to try and see things from Blake’s perspective.

I mean shit. The poor girl did her absolute best to remain distant, to keep her secrets, to keep her past away from the rest of them. But she opened up to Yang, they became very close friends and at some point (I’m looking at you Burning the Candle) it became a little more flirtatious and romantic. Then with all this going on, Adam appears of literally nowhere and maimes the one person in all of Beacon that Blake has truly opened up to. And like let’s not fucking forget that Blake is also the only person we see Yang open up to. I mean we see her open up to Weiss, but she’s literally opening up about her pain from Blake leaving soooooooo.

The last thing that sets Blake apart in this cycle of the three bears, and the reason why she gets to be Baby Bear/ Just Right™️ is because BLAKE CAME BACK.

This girl, who is notorious for running from her problems, to the point that her semblance which is an extension of her own soul, is literally a mechanism to run away, SHE CAME BACK.

Blake came back to Yang. And she’s promised she’s never going anywhere again. And Yang believes her, Yang trusts her, and y’all can damn well believe Yang LOVES her.

So yea. Blake’s Baby Bear. She’s Just Right™️ for Yang. Try and change my mind. You can’t.

This post has gotten really long, and I do have more thoughts, but maybe in another post cause again, this is already a fucking full length essay.

For y’all who wanted to be tagged:

@sunnydragonqueen @yeehawyang @AG_Nonsuch

#Just Right™️#Rachael’s got theories #rwby #bumbleby #blake belladonna #ship: bumbleby #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #adam taurus #ruby rose #raven branwen #Summer rose #ghira belladonna #kali belladonna

381 notes · View notes

sweet-steddie · 6 years ago

Text

Home (g.d. & e.d.)

Summary: You’ve gotten a bad grade which means you’re having a bad day. The twins are more than ready to make you feel better. @shawnsababe here it is, almost lol. Hope you enjoy whatever this is!

A/N: Here’s my third Dolan twins imagine and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that everyone is pleased with it! If you’re liking the warm and fuzzy theme of my imagines so far, then this one’ll hopefully be right up your alley lol. Please reblog and leave feedback and maybe even drop a request or two off for me ;) Here goes!

2.6k+

The lecture is almost over, thank heavens. The professor has just informed us all that our most recent test scores have been posted online, at which point 97 percent of the class pulled out their laptops to check their grades, effectively checking out of the lecture. I’ve just selected the “Grades” tab on my school website and am anxiously waiting for the test results to appear.

When the page finishes loading, I give pause. Major pause. Because the grade is not good. Scratch that; the grade is fucking horrendous. I bite my lower lip and my vision immediately goes blurry with unshed tears. Not here. I will not cry here. And I mentally recite this mantra over and over until everyone around me begins to rise to their feet and file out of the classroom.

I must zone out for a considerable amount of time because when I come to, I see unfamiliar faces and an unfamiliar professor entering the room and preparing for the class that’s scheduled to begin next. I make quick work of sticking my earbuds in and packing up my bag before I all but scamper from the room. I speed-walk into the nearest restroom and am momentarily pleased to find it empty before I occupy the first stall and lock the door, sinking down onto the toilet seat just as my tears begin to fall. I take a few shuddering breaths and my shoulders shake pathetically with hushed hiccups and cries.

I close my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath. And then I take another deep breath before gathering a wad of toilet paper to messily wipe at my tear stricken cheeks. I dispose of the tissue and dig my phone out of my pocket, waking up the screen to find it stacked with notifications. When my phone is unlocked, I thumb into my messages and am quickly reminded that I made plans for the day and fuck, if socializing isn’t the last thing I wanna do right now. I hate the idea of bringing the weight of my crushing self-pity to a gathering; it feels unbearably selfish.

I tap into the group message that I have with Grayson and Ethan. Through my puffy eyelids, I scan over the most recent texts. Something about if we should order takeout tonight. I sigh heavily through my nose as I type out Guys, I’m gonna have to take a rain check today. It’s just that I’m the dumbest bitch on earth and I’m never getting out of college. Hope you understand! and then I send it and thumb into my music app to put my library on shuffle. I’m only able to blow my nose and stand up from the toilet before I get an incoming FaceTime call.

It looks like Grayson’s calling and I haven’t looked in the mirror since I left class, but I’m almost positive that I look absolutely miserable. Unfortunately, there’s no time to fix that now. I sigh as I sit back down and accept the call, attempting to paint a smile onto my face to lessen the blow of my swollen eyelids and shiny nose. When the call connects, both Ethan and Grayson are staring me down through the phone, each with expressions of utter sympathy. None of us say anything and I allow my fake smile to slip as I fight back a second wave of tears.

Ethan’s eyebrows furrow as he watches me begin to break down. “Don’t cry,” he mutters softly, eyes softening at my vulnerable appearance.

“Whatever happened, it’s gonna be okay, baby. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Grayson adds just as softly, looking equally as distraught as his brother. Their concern seems to push me over the edge and I have to cover my mouth as I break down crying once again.

“I’m sorry, this is so uncomfortable! I’m sorry,” I blubber out between cries, gasping out wet breaths to attempt to keep the incoming tears from cascading. “I’m gonna be okay, I’m just being dramatic. I’ll be okay,” I reassure them, but it’s mostly me talking to myself and telling myself to get it the fuck together.

“Where are you? You shouldn’t be alone right now. We’ll come get you,” Ethan desperately tries to put a plan together to come to my rescue and I so appreciate him for that. But having them come onto my campus will only cause problems for them and the three of us are aware of that.

“No,” I protest, “it’s okay, I’m okay to drive. I’ll come to you guys. I don’t want you guys getting mobbed.”

“And you’ll stay overnight, at least. I don’t want you staying alone tonight,” Grayson states more than asks. But I nod along anyway, truthfully in no mood to be by myself for much longer.

“Come see us babe, we’re waiting on you. Come home,” Ethan coos gently. My heart melts at him calling his house home. And then it dawns on me that nothing in the world sounds better in this moment than being wrapped up in my boys.

“Okay,” I whisper out, giving a pitiful sniffle. Grayson looks like he would leap through the screen right now if he could. Both boys do.

“I love you,” Ethan pipes up before I can end the call.

“I love you too. So fucking much,” Grayson contributes and I’m able to crack a smile that’s small but genuine.

“I love you guys. I’ll be over soon,” I sign off and I wave at them before ending the call. I make myself as presentable as possible and stand up, finally registering that I’ve been sitting on a public toilet in my pants for the past however long. “Ew,” I mutter, unlocking the stall door and washing my hands before making a beeline out of the building and beginning my trek to the parking garage across from my apartment.

When I finally arrive at my car, I feel less like crying and more like curling up with my favorite guys. I load my things into the car and prepare for the 30 minute drive to the twins’ place and, in my haste to see them as soon as possible, the trip seems at least 5 times longer than usual. So pulling into the boys’ garage at last, then, is the sweetest relief I’ve experienced all day.

I don’t bother bringing my backpack with me when I hop out of the car and lock the doors, shuffling toward the twins’ house. I raise my fist to knock on the door but before I can make any contact, it flies open to reveal Ethan looking more worried than I’ve seen him in a long time. “C’mere,” he beckons me softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands and bringing his plush lips to my forehead in a sweet kiss. I close my eyes at his attention, wrapping my arms around his middle and squeezing tight. Being in Ethan’s arms right now is like a breath of fresh air.

“I missed you, E. I need you. You and Gray,” I mutter and he hums, lips still pressed flush to my forehead. He pulls back with a soft smack.

“We’re right here. And we won’t leave your side,” he promises near my ear before planting a quick kiss there as well and reaching out behind me to shut the front door.

“E? Is she here?” comes Grayson’s voice from somewhere behind Ethan. I keep my eyes closed, knowing he’ll come and find us. Ethan’s taken to resting his cheek on top of my head and wrapping his arms around my shoulders, gently swaying us where we stand.

“Yeah, she’s here,” Ethan calls back and, sure enough, I hear the sound of Grayson’s feet padding nearer. And then his voice is much closer than before.

“Well lemme see her,” Grayson says softly and I feel Ethan place one more firm kiss to my forehead before releasing me and I open my eyes just in time to find Grayson waiting on me with open arms. He stares me down with droopy, soft eyes and gathers me up into his chest, holding tight. “How’s my girl, hm?” he murmurs into my ear, pausing to kiss the top of my head before his lips resume their hovering over the area near my ear. “I know I told you you didn’t have to talk about it, but please tell me what it is. Tell me what it is so I can fix it,” he pleads, voice a pleasantly deep rumble beneath where my head is resting.

I take a moment to inhale deeply, breathing in his woodsy cologne. “Gray,” I sigh out, clinging to the thick fabric of his hoodie with needy fists, “I failed my test in that one class I was telling you guys about. The one I’ve been having trouble in already. And if I don’t bring up my grade, I might fail the course. And if I fail a course in my last semester here, I might not graduate on time,” I begin to ramble at this point. I feel Grayson nod at various points in my speech.

“You’re not gonna fail, babe. You’re just having a rough time in the class; it happens. It’s only your first test,” Ethan soothes. And the thing is...he’s right. Grayson nods again.

“Exactly. You’re gonna do just fine, we know you are. We’ll help you study. We’ll fucking,” he scrambles to find the words, “we’ll come to your lectures with you. We’ll take notes. Whatever you need,” Grayson suggests and my chest does that fluttery thing that only he and Ethan can make it do. This earns a giggle out of me and I lean my head back so that I can look up into Grayson’s face. He seems mildly perplexed that I’m laughing.

“Thats so sweet, Grayson,” I smile up at him and use a finger to lovingly tap the tip of his adorable button nose. That earns the beginnings of a lopsided smile out of him. “I know you and E would do anything for me. That’s why I love you guys so much,” I gush, essentially staring right into Grayson’s face with major heart eyes. “Thank you,” I all but whisper before leaning up and into his face, kissing the light stubble below his cheekbone. The smile that spreads across his face is borderline dopey.

I give his firm body a squeeze before gently breaking away to show Ethan some love, as well. I slowly approach him, smile spreading shyly across my lips as I draw nearer. He must decide that I’m taking too long, because he reaches out a long arm and pulls me in with a gentle tug, causing me to stumble into his chest with an embarrassingly high pitched squeal of delight. He twines his arms around my waist and lowers his head so that we’re face height with each other, turning so that his cheek is closest to me.

“C’mon. My turn,” he encourages, waiting for a kiss like the one I gave Grayson. I snort at his cheesiness, but it makes my heart thud violently nonetheless. I don’t hesitate to lean in and plant my lips on his cheek, drawing it out before pulling back with a loud, dramatic mwah! “Oh yeah,” he gloats after I pull away and I can assume based off of the smug smirk on his face that he’s addressing Grayson now. “My kiss was better,” he taunts and I fondly roll my eyes at him before spinning around and allowing him to pull my back to his front as I watch for Grayson’s reaction. He stares back at Ethan with his expression portraying the utmost boredom, looking utterly unamused.

“Ethan,” he starts before even begins to address the teasing, “that didn’t even count. She felt sorry for you because you begged for the kiss. And she kissed me first, idiot,” he accuses and I know exactly what he’s doing. The bickering between the boys hasn’t even begun and my stomach is already bubbling with impending laughter, which is surely Grayson’s intent.

“You’re so fucking jealous, bro. You’re mad because she’s mine,” I feel Ethan shrug before resting his chin on my shoulder. I bite my lip at that lovely claim. It’s amazing to me, at this point, that I started this day so horribly and that it’s turning out so fucking well.

“How is that possible?” Grayson’s eyebrows furrow as if what Ethan said is the dumbest thing he’s ever heard. “That doesn’t make any sense, Ethan. Because she’s mine,” he responds as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He looks at me, shaking his head in mock-exasperation and I laugh. Completely disregarding Ethan’s hold on my waist, he grabs my hand and entwines our fingers, pulling me towards himself instead. Ethan catches my hand just in time and I end up holding hands with them both, swinging both sets of our joined hands back and forth playfully.

The boys are wearing matching smiles as I stare between the two of them, all traces of their playful fight forgotten as we circle back around to the reason that I’m here. Grayson hip checks me, staring down into my eyes with a gentle grin on his pretty, pink lips, an unspoken gesture of comfort.

“Just to let you know,” Ethan starts, causing me to look over at him instead, “if you have any more trouble in that course,” he uses a free hand to gesture between himself and his brother, “Grayson and I will he happy to find your professor and kick his ass.” he deadpans, causing me to bark out a surprised laugh. The statement is so ridiculous that it catches me off guard and I end up having to lean over as I continue to choke out laughter. Whether this laughter is borne of Ethan’s declaration or out of delirium after having such a previously awful day, I’m not certain; I have a feeling it’s a healthy mixture of both. In my haze of mirth, I don’t quite catch on that I’m the only one laughing. When I’m reduced to chuckles, Grayson clears his throat.

“We’re serious.”

107 notes · View notes

iatethepomegranate · 5 years ago

Text

Homecoming Chapter 23

For story masterlist and AO3 links, see the “my tags and fics” page on my blog. This is part of the Human Connection series.

Tumblr removed my last chapter from the tags and I’m not sure why, so I won’t be reblogging myself this time or tagging anyone. We’ll see if that works.

Pairing: DickTiger

Rating: Teen (this chapter)

Length: 3.7k

Summary: Dick recuperates, Tiger has a visitor, and Jason engages in some very healthy coping mechanisms.

Notes: Warnings for alcohol abuse, allusions to the previous torture

***

Chapter 23

It was difficult to concentrate on anything while Dick was laid up in bed. Tiger found the manor stifling most days due to the problems with Bruce and the affections of an overbearing family. Add in the argument and Dick's condition, and he couldn't breathe while surrounded by those walls.

So he found himself outside again, by the back door, leaning against a stone railing likely older than most American architecture he had seen. The roof covered the area, which was fortunate, as it was raining today.

It rained often here, cleansing the air until it was cool and fresh. Tiger leaned over the railing, catching raindrops in his palm.

He was in no hurry to return indoors and face the consequences of that conversation in Dick's bedroom. Where would he go if he had to leave this time?

“Yes, Tiger,” came a familiar woman's voice. “Water is wet.” Helena threw a duffel bag at Tiger's feet. “Your things.”

“Thank you.” Tiger wiped his wet hand on his pants. “Who let you in here?”

“The old man who answered the door,” Helena replied, leaning on the railing on the other side of the stairs down to the manor grounds. Tiger was certain Helena knew Alfred’s name, but sometimes she didn’t like to reveal exactly how much she knew. “He mentioned Dick is suffering some side-effects from the machine.”

“Migraines,” Tiger replied. “Is the machine destroyed?”

“I made sure of it.”

“And the prisoners?” Tiger had been too worried about Dick to give them much thought, but now Bannon was on his mind. Death for that man would be ideal, but Tiger would settle for a lifetime in a high-security prison.

“I've been talking to Batman about that.” Helena gazed out at the manor grounds, frowning, which could either be a bad sign or utterly meaningless. She frowned often. As did Tiger. “Checkmate is our best option for dealing with them. They will likely recruit some who can be rehabilitated.”

“And Bannon?”

Helena sighed. “I don't know. I've been in touch with Checkmate to make sure they have all the information. They know he's a piece of work. But you know them better than I do.”

Tiger hadn't spent much time with Checkmate in several years, given the deep immersion required for his mission in Spyral. They were more principled than Spyral had been, but they were still a group that believed the ends justified the means. Tiger had once thought the same.

“They might want to use him,” Tiger mumbled. Bannon had an uncommon set of skills and an even less common temperament to match. “People like that are hard to find... and control.”

“I could still make him disappear,” Helena offered.

“Do not tempt me.” The thought of Bannon being allowed to keep working made Tiger feel lightheaded. The scar on his shoulder burned.

“I can make it look like an accident.”

“Helena, please.”

Helena held up her hands. “Okay. But if you change your mind...”

“Matron.”

“Message received.” Helena joined him at the railing, nudging the bag aside with her foot. “Checkmate wanted me to bring you one of their own.”

Tiger wasn't sure he wanted to hear Checkmate's message. He sighed, and waited for her to tell him.

“Apparently you never officially quit,” Helena said. “They want you to report to their Gotham headquarters for evaluation and potential reassignment.”

Tiger sighed. “Very well. I can resign in person.”

“Not so fast. You might need their resources to research Dick's condition.”

Tiger hated that she had a point. “Fine. I will debrief with them and ask for assistance. They owe me.” The thought of what would happen when Dick's family discovered he had been a double agent this whole time, however, landed heavily into his mind. “I may not be welcome here for much longer, even if Batman is unconcerned about my allegiances.”

“Oh?”

“He knows I shot Alia.”

“Well, shit.” Helena nudged Tiger's bag with her foot. “Listen. I got Gloria home to her family, so I have no more commitments. I'm staying in Gotham a while longer. If you need a place to stay, my couch is free.”

Tiger didn't know what to say to that. Helena had already helped him run from his problems in the past, and she was offering to do it again. But Tiger would not leave without a fight this time. The thought of being separated from Dick was unbearable. He could barely tolerate being in a different room out of necessity.

“I'm using an old Spyral frequency on my communicator,” Helena said. “Your first one, remember?”

A long time ago, but Tiger remembered. “I will contact you if needed.”

“How do you rate your chances of staying here?”

“I don't know.” Tiger leaned heavily against the railing, weathering a wave of exhaustion. “Bruce can be... stubborn. But the rest of the family likes me, for whatever reason. Dick and Jason won't let me go without a fight. If the others become involved, I can count on Damian at the very least. Possibly the others.”

“You could be okay,” Helena said. “It's hard to blindside somebody twice in a row.”

“Even if I am able to stay,” Tiger muttered, “Bruce can make life unpleasant. I don't know how I can...” He sighed. “Dick is not well. I cannot leave him.”

“Remember that when it gets hard,” Helena said. “Is he up to visitors?”

“Not right now.”

“All right. I'll just have to visit another time, remind Bruce I'm watching. Maybe I'll bring the new uniform I'm working on, since I no longer have any director duties to distract me.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Hang in there. And stay in touch.”

“I will try.”

***

The pain ebbed away after several hours of suffering, but Dick had to move slowly or risk his shitty leg crumbling beneath him. He couldn't quite figure out where it was sometimes. But there were plenty of walls in this place, and Dick knew how to drag an injured body.

Also, he was just plain bored. Reading and watching television were both out of the question; his head split with pain whenever he tried. The rest of the family was likely at dinner, but Dick's stomach hadn't quite settled yet.

Pain memory was a pain in the ass, but he had managed to hold onto enough of the conversation right before he'd been knocked flat. Bruce knew Tiger had helped shoot Alia, and that Jason had practically torn out his own heart on the process of defending him.

Dick still had his communicator, so he tuned it into Jason's frequency, not quite ready to put Tiger through the pain of seeing him in only a semi-recovered state. Jason could take it, and they needed to talk... well, as much as Dick was capable. Words still took time to form in his mouth.

“Jay?” he said into the communicator, leaning against the bedroom doorway. His arm wasn't too bad as long as he was looking directly at it.

“Up already?” Jason let out a long breath through the link. “Shouldn't you be resting?”

“Bored.”

He snorted. “Right.”

“Where are you?” Dick couldn't quite enunciate the words as well as he normally would, but he got the point across.

“Shouldn't you be asking Tiger?”

“Not yet.”

“Still look like shit, huh? I'm on the roof. No way you can make it with half your limbs out of commission.”

“Help me, then.”

“Fuck's sake,” Jason muttered. “Fine. Hope I'm not too drunk yet.”

Of course he was drinking on the roof. Dick would've loved to make a smartass comment, but he couldn't quite get his mouth around the words.

“Tim's room has the easiest foothold,” Jason said. “Kid should still be at dinner. Meet me there.”

Dick didn't comment on the use of Tim's name, rather than 'the replacement' or any of the similarly asshole-ish varieties Jason had used over the years. Jason would backslide the instant he said anything.

Jason sat sitting on the windowsill when Dick staggered his way into Tim's room. “Hey, loser. You look like shit.”

Dick rolled his eyes, grateful that the migraine hadn't affected his eye movement; that would be too far. “Thanks.”

Jason slid outside and helped Dick climb through, keeping a tight grip on his bad arm as they picked their way across the sloped surface and up to a flat point with a bucket full of beer bottles, some full, some empty.

Jason set him down in the middle of the flat section, up against a chimney, and sat opposite him with his back to a slope, snagging a half-empty bottle from the bucket. “Okay. You're up here. Now answer me this: the fuck, dude?”

“Should you be that close to the edge while drinking?” The sentence came easier than Dick expected. Good.

“Fuck off.”

“I can't.”

Jason grumbled under his breath and took a swig of his beer. Dick glanced down at the bucket. More than half the bottles were empty; he'd been here a while. It was just as well Jason could hold his liquor, then.

Dick waited until he'd finished the bottle and started on another before asking, “What happened while I was down?”

“I'm not drunk enough for this conversation.”

“Give it thirty seconds.”

“Were you always this much of a smartass?”

“Yes.”

“Ughh.” Jason took several more gulps and wiped his mouth. “Okay. Fine. Bruce kept being a shithead until I told him to shut the fuck up. Then Tiger disappeared to fuck knows where. He's still in the house, though. Don't freak out. Then Bruce tried to talk to me about shit.”

“How'd that go?”

Jason raised the bottle. “How do you think?”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I really fucking don't.”

“Drinking hasn't improved your temperament.”

“How would you know?”

Dick could feel his headache coming back just from this conversation. “Jason.”

“Don't Jason me.” Jason drained the rest of the bottle. Dick was really starting to worry about him. This thing with Bruce had been going on for years, ever since Jason came back. They'd never resolved it, and Dick was starting to wonder if they ever would. Maybe some things just weren't fixable.

That wasn't something Dick was prepared to accept, though.

Jason slammed the empty bottle into the bucket and opened the next. “Why are you even out here?”

“Didn't feel like dinner,” Dick replied. “And Tiger doesn't need to see me like this.”

“You're looking better already. Or maybe I'm just getting drunker.”

“It's both, Jay.”

“Yeah.” He took a long swig. “So, you've come to keep the family fuckup company.”

“You're not a fuckup.”

A laugh burst out of Jason, most definitely louder than he had intended. “Bullshit. The only reason Bruce hasn't been on my ass as much is because he's been busy with your boytoy.”

“Call Tiger that in front of him. I dare you.”

“Get me drunk enough and I will.” Jason reclined on his side, propped up on his elbow. It was probably a more stable position given his inebriation. “God damn it. You just had to go and get yourself injured, didn't you?”

“Wasn't planned.”

Jason wasn't listening. “Here I was hoping you'd come back in one piece and step back into being everyone's annoying big brother so I didn't have to do it anymore. But nooooo.” He tipped his head backwards and emptied the bottle into his mouth. “You go ahead and make everyone think you're gonna fucking die. And, like... you don’t die. But you're too damn sick to be yourself, so I'm stuck here filling your shoes in Bruce's house and none of us even know if this is a permanent thing or...” Jason dropped his face onto his arm. “Fuck, I'm an asshole. Pass me another bottle.”

“I think you've had enough, Jay.” Dick didn't trust himself not to drop the damn thing anyway.

Jason groaned into his arm. “I forgave him, you know. For not saving me.”

“I know, Jay.” Dick had reminded Bruce of this on several occasions in the past.

“But letting the Joker live... fuck. I don't know. It's just—it's a lot, okay?”

“I know that, too.” None of this was new information. Dick had struggled with this before, with what happened to Jason and Barbara. There were times he had been so angry he easily could've killed the Joker himself. He'd come close on several occasions.

“He would've done it if it had been you, you know. All his bullshit about how he really did want to kill him and had to stop himself or he'd, like, keep killing or whatever... he would've done it.”

“You don't know that, Jay.” Dick wasn't in the mood to fight over who was the favourite tonight. “He loves you.”

Dick was getting to the point where he hoped Jason wouldn't remember this in the morning. He wasn't great at comforting Jason even at the best of times. He tried, but he didn't have the frame of reference to truly understand where Jason was coming from. Bruce had made mistakes with both of them, but in different ways. Jason's death had altered the trajectory of his life, put him in direct opposition to Bruce and the rest of the family. They'd reached an uneasy equilibrium, where Jason didn’t involve them with the more homicidal aspects of his vigilantism and they didn't dig too deeply anymore.

That didn't work for Bruce. He took responsibility for Jason's actions, especially those that occurred within Gotham. Dick couldn't see a solution without one of them giving in, and Bruce and Jason were two of the most stubborn people he had ever known.

Jason wasn't a bad person. He just had very different ideas about how to deal with the worst criminals they encountered. In a way, it had prepared Dick for Tiger and, in turn, experience with Tiger had given Dick greater patience with Jason.

It was still hard to reconcile, even when Dick wasn't coming down from hours of pain.

Jason flopped onto his back. “Jesus Christ, I'm drunk.”

“You're just noticing now?”

“Ughhhhhhhh.” Jason threw an arm across his face. “Why the fuck are we talking about this? You trying to make me cry?”

“I won't tell.” Even if Dick was strongly tempted to tell Bruce that Jason was still really messed up about this. “Nice to know you care that much about the kids, though.”

“Someone has to. And you're...” Jason gestured vaguely in Dick's direction. “You know.”

“Why, Jason, you're almost responsible in your old age.”

“Fuck off.”

“I told you before: I can't.”

A chill wind picked up, jabbing through Dick's coat. The tip of his nose was turning into an icicle.

Jason groaned and sat up. “You should get inside. Don't need to get sicker on my account.” He had to put a hand down to stop himself from pitching sideways. “And I'm way too drunk to help you.”

Dick put in a call to Tiger, who didn't arrive alone. Tim had tagged along.

“You've got to stop using my window as an escape route,” Tim complained, pulling Jason to his feet. “How much did you drink?”

Tiger helped Dick stand, peering past him at the bucket. “That... looks like many empty bottles.”

“It is,” Dick confirmed.

Tim and Jason went down first. Despite his inebriation, Jason was steady on the slope, more so than he'd been on the flat section. Muscle memory was a hell of a thing.

Tiger pulled Dick close, kissing the top of his head. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Dick pressed his cold cheek to Tiger's shoulder for a moment. “Come on. Talk more inside. Tim'll get the bottles.”

Jason had sprawled on Tim's bed when they got inside. Tim slipped back out to grab the bucket of empty bottles, muttering under his breath the whole time. Dick lowered himself into the desk chair.

“Have you eaten?” Tiger asked.

“No. Still a bit queasy.”

��Better than I feel right now,” Jason muttered, pressing his hands over his eyes. “God damn, why did I drink so much?”

“We'd all like to know the answer to that question,” Tim replied, dumping the bucket by the window, slamming that shut. Dick flinched at the sound.

“I don't pry into your shitty coping mechanisms,” Jason mumbled.

Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the windowsill. “What'd I miss?”

“A lot,” Dick replied. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to tell Tim, or how much Tim suspected already. He was a smart kid, smarter than Dick by a huge margin. There was no shame coming in second to a certified genius. Well, third, behind Bruce... and possibly some of the others. Definitely Barbara. Dick knew a lot of smart people.

“Three shooters took down Alia and I was one of them,” Tiger said.

“Oh, I know. Jason did a really bad job hiding the evidence.”

“Had no time,” Jason muttered.

“Bruce knows, too,” Tiger added.

“Yeah, because you told him,” said Dick. He still wasn't sure how to feel about it. Some tiny part of him had been hoping Jason was gonna pull off something spectacular and throw Bruce off the scent.

“He already suspected.” Tiger fixed Tim with an odd look; Dick had a vague pain-fogged recollection of Alfred telling him they had spent some time together while everyone still thought he was having a stroke. “This doesn't bother you?”

“I heard what happened,” Tim replied, giving Tiger a steady stare in response. “It doesn't sound like you had many options. Or any. I hate killing as much as anyone else in this family, present company excluded, but I would've made the same decision in your shoes. I mean, if I had quick access to a gun. Which I normally don't.”

Tiger's expression was hard to read. Confused, maybe?

Tim shrugged. “I'm glad I didn't have to make that choice. Would it help if I talked to Bruce about it?”

“Maybe,” Dick said. “Jay and I have obvious reasons for being on Tiger's side. You don't.”

“I'll catch him after patrol tonight,” Tim promised. “If it helps, I think the others would understand, too, especially if they knew how close it was. Damian and I don't always see eye-to-eye on things, but I think this might be an exception.”

Dick really didn't want to think about close he had come to either dying, or being possessed and then eventually dying anyway. Judging from the way Tiger's body language had completely shut off—crossed arms, rounded shoulders, mouth set in a thin line—he didn't either.

Tim held up his hands. “We can deal with that tomorrow. You should go to bed.” He walked over to Jason and kicked his foot. “You, too. Thanks for putting us a man down tonight.”

Jason snored loudly. Tim watched him for a moment, before sighing.

“Bastard,” he muttered, shoving the bucket of bottles into Tiger's hand. “Go stick those in his room. I'm not catching the blame for this.”

Tim headed down to get changed for patrol, leaving Jason asleep in his bed. Dick and Tiger made their way to their room, detouring to put the bottles in Jason's room.

Upon entering their room, it became clear that Alfred had been in here. The bed was made, the whole room dusted and a bowl of fresh fruit sat on the desk. Dick grabbed a banana, recruiting Tiger to open it for him.

They sat on the bed together, Dick leaning into Tiger a little. Holding his body weight up with only half his limbs working properly was damn exhausting.

“Helena visited today,” Tiger said.

“I missed her? Damn it.”

“She'll be back.”

“Did she say anything interesting?”

“She said... many things.” Tiger ran a hand over his face, drawing attention to the dark circles under his eyes. “She returned my belongings. I think Alfred was going to... ah. There they are.” There was a duffel bag in the corner. “Checkmate has taken the agents who did not cooperate with us, including Bannon. They may recruit some of them.”

“And Bannon?”

“He might be one of them.”

“Fuck that.”

“Helena told them what he did.” Tiger closed his eyes, head downturned, and Dick was surprised he hadn't fallen asleep yet. “They also want me to report in for a debrief. And possible reassignment.”

“What are you going to do?”

“That depends. If they can help research your condition... I can be friendly. Otherwise, I will resign.”

“I didn't think you wanted to go back.”

“I do not.”

Dick rubbed his forehead, willing a stab of pain to go away. “Bruce has resources. We can—”

“Checkmate has other resources,” Tiger said. “I want to give you the best chance to recover.”

“You don't even want to be a spy anymore.”

“I want you to be in pain even less.” Tiger grabbed an orange from the bowl, digging into the skin to peel it. “They owe me for Spyral.”

“You think Maxwell Lord will see it that way?”

“I will make him see it that way.” Tiger plucked out a segment and handed it to Dick. “You missed two meals. Eat.”

Dick was nowhere near well enough for this argument, not after dealing with a very drunk, very emotional Jason. There was still a good chance he could puke all this fruit up anyway, which made talking a rather unattractive proposition.

“They will make me do a psychological evaluation,” Tiger said, passing Dick another segment. “It is unlikely I will pass, and therefore will not be cleared for field work anyway.”

“About time that PTSD was good for something.”

Tiger almost smiled. Almost.

Neither of them really felt up to sleeping yet. They'd tended more towards insomnia than nightmares recently. Talking about what happened hadn't really been on the radar, either.

Right now, it was just easier to lie side-by-side, hands intertwined, staring up at the ceiling. The whole thing hung heavily between them, a thick pane of glass pressing down on their chests. It would eventually shatter, and there was no telling how much damage it would do, but maybe they could start breathing again once it was done.

They weren't ready to take that chance yet. Dick still felt too damn fragile, and Tiger, though he'd fared better physically, was just as messed up on the inside... if not more.

They needed more time, and now they had to make sure they would have it.

#dicktiger #dick grayson #tiger king of kandahar #homecoming dicktiger fic #my fics #fanfiction

5 notes · View notes