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femdomlieeh · 10 months ago

Text

Sunset (m)

Sub!Pussy drunk!Needy!Beomgyu (TXT) x Dom!Afab!Reader

THEMES—nsfw ✧ a bit romantic ✧ and emo ✧ just a tiny bit toxic ✧ a bit nasty

WARNING—4.3k wc ✧ public sex (car by the beach) ✧ good boy & bratty!beom ✧ oral (f rec.) ✧ body worship (f rec.) ✧ teasing (f/m rec.) ✧ face-sitting (m rec.) ✧ praising ✧ light degradation (calling him dirty, your little slut etc) ✧ hickeys (f rec.) ✧ spitting (m rec.) ✧ hand job ✧ crying ✧ brief cum play ✧ cumming untouched ✧ hair pulling (m rec.) ✧ pet names (mommy, baby, little slut etc)

NOW PLAYING—SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE ✧ Tyler, the Creator ft Brent Faiyaz & Fana Hues

M.LISTS—txt ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

A/N. To sort out any possible confusion, this is what the interior of the car looks like; vintage, flat like a bed style. BUT imagine it's a roof less car🤟

You were sitting on the driver's seat with your right hand on the steering wheel, left hand up in the air, warm wind kissing your skin before you put it down to rest on the edge of the car door. He was laying across the passenger's seat with his head on your thighs, staring up at the sky. You were on your way to nowhere in particular. This was your definition of adventure. His smile was bright contrary to his past, his eyes were full of the hope of a child and his laugh was the sound of an angel. With his sock-clad feet on the edge of the door and his long, fluffy, soft hair on your exposed legs he lowly sang along to a song.

You were watching the road, he was watching the pineapple purple sky until his eyes were on you. Smirk grew on his face. God knows what was going through that mischievous mind of his.

You remembered his soft lips crafted by the most-detailed-and-in-love artist on the skin on your thighs. The kisses he left were so light, barely brushing against you. Your hand found its way to his hair, he looked up at you with those impure eyes as the kisses he placed got slightly rougher. He loved seeing your reactions to his touches, gaining your approval; the satisfaction of your pleasure. Insecure boy. And damn was he horny too. Or was he in love?

Maybe he just lived in the moment.

Who would have the idea of spontaneously driving to nowhere for no reason, taking off their shoes, resting their feet on the edge of a car driving in high speed to get fanned for free by Mother Nature, put their head on the driver's lap and start kissing their thighs?

Beomgyu.

That was the simple answer. Beomgyu and nobody else.

He was the kind of character you saw in films and wish you'd had the pleasure of acquainting yourself with in real life but you don't because those people came from someone's fantasy and were carefully written and too rare to find in real life. You were lucky to have met him. Your dear, sweet Beomgyu.

After some minutes, he turned his body completely and laid on his tummy so he could get easier access to your skin, instead of having to turn his neck to kiss. Wearing shorts today had its perks. Kisses were peppered with so much care as he put his hand on your left leg and caressed it lightly so it'd be occupied and get attention too. As each second passed by it got harder and harder to focus on the road. He was such a distraction and he knew it. He loved distracting you. He loved any attention you gave him really, whether it was direct words when you'd praise or degrade or just knowing he was present in your thoughts whenever he received a cute "I miss you" text during long work hours.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

After two extra passionate kisses he answered, "Loving you."

"I'm driving."

Kiss. "Yes." Kiss. "And?" Kiss.

"Can't you love me some other time?"

He looked at you. Kiss. "Impossible." Kiss. "I can't not love you." Kiss.

You put your hand on his cheek softly, "I love you too, Beomgyu." Looking at the road, you couldn't see him but you felt his cheek move into a smile against your palm upon hearing your words. You smiled back at him, taking a quick glance at him and detecting a strand of hair in his eyes. In a split second you brushed his hair away, before Beomgyu went back to kissing your thighs again. He had always been so affectionate towards you, showing how much he appreciates all of you: your mind, your face, your body — your everything. He was so good with his words, hands and lips. You loved all of him.

A slow Lana Del Rey song later his featherlight kisses grew deeper until he was sucking on your flesh, trying to create purple marks. "You're making hickeys? How juvenile."

He laughed at your comment. It was true. Last time he remembered he'd put effort into creating hickeys was back in high school. "Maybe, but I bet your thighs will be so pretty with hickeys on them," he went back to work, making sure to suck more harshly to emphasise his point.

You were starting to get wet. And it was hard concentrating on the road and trying not to look down at the pretty man's lips on your lap every minute. You were driving on an empty country road so, thankfully, nobody could witness this raw act of love. Five or six or — who knows? — that's how many hickeys Beomgyu had created already and he was not finished yet. He experimentally bit on your thigh, looking up at you to observe if you liked it. "Hmmm." His bite got a little bit harder, still looking at you. "A bit gentler, Baby," you patted his head. "Okey," he smiled cutely at your small action and nickname and went back to the same force as on the first bite. Fuck, you needed to get out of this car and fuck him soon or you would go crazy.

The sun had begun to set. 19:22. There was plenty of time until the sun was down and gone. The sky was still somewhat bright with colours of pink and blue. You wanted to watch this beautiful sunset with Beomgyu but he was busy with his face in your thighs. Your eyes were on the empty road, looking at the signs and trying to come up with where to go when you recognised a name you'd heard of before when talking with friends about a nice little beach trip — if you made a turn in a few kilometers, you would soon make it to a pretty and unknown beach. Perfect!

You looked down. So many hickeys scattered around only on your right thigh, the left one only being touched by his hand. You rested your hand on the back of his head, playing with his long locks, "You're so pretty." He mumbled a little thank you on your skin, back to kissing your thigh gently now.

It all felt so sweet and romantic somehow, his big hand massaging your left thigh, slowly moving towards the inner part, fingers ghosting teasingly on your naked skin. He was distracting the driver with his mouth and hands — how could he make that feel sweet and romantic to the point you almost forgot how irresponsible you were being? Almost. Your eyes weren't on him. Most of your attention was on the road and he was only getting a tiny fraction of the attention he craved so much. Because he needed all of your attention right now. Sure, he needed your hands stroking his hair but he also needed your smiling eyes on him and your sweet and mean whispers; eyes and mind full of him only.

Determined to get more of your attention, he moved his unholy fingers towards your pussy. "You're so dirty," the grip you had on his hair tightened and he whined. He would always do this, turn to being bratty if he didn't get enough attention from you. If a good boy wouldn't get all your love and touches at least a naughty boy was sure to get all your degrading words and oh so lovely punishments — and he enjoyed being your naughty boy as much as your good boy; he could be anyone and anything you wanted as long as it meant he was the sole object of your affection.

His whines were always so pretty and light, causing you to clench your pussy around nothing. It never failed to impress you how he whined and moaned whenever you were the one being pleasured and not him. He moved up a bit and kissed your shorts right above your clit. There was fabric hindering the full sensation but you still felt it a little, already so sensitive and wet from the teasing. He looked up at you. You had shorts on so it was a bit difficult to pleasure you the way he wanted to, but Beomgyu was creative and undid your zipper. As much as he wanted to pull down your shorts so he could properly eat you out — he wasn't that stupid and careless to actually do it when you were driving, right? — so you were curious where he was going with this but also nervous.

Nose pushing up your shirt so he could kiss the skin on your waist, naughty hand gliding under the shorts to feel your hip. There were no cars on the road — and there hadn't been for a while now — so you decided to tease him a bit back, put him in his place so he knows better than to completely ignore that you're driving and that he can't do everything he wants right now, he has to be patient and wait. You grabbed his chin and made him look up at you, looking back at him for a split second. "Open your mouth."

He did so even faster than you averted your gaze, waiting for your spit. "Aw, so eager now are we?" You said, still looking at the road.

"Please, look at me," he nodded and whined impatiently, mouth ready for your spit. He looked so pathetic, bedroom eyes and long, styled hair a bit fucked up from you gripping it. Touching your skin but not getting to feel your wetness, not getting to pleasure you was in a way teasing him too, his cock now hard and pink.

"You're so pretty, Baby." His mouth was still open but he almost looked like he smiled for a second.

You spat in his mouth fast, immediately looking back at the road. He swallowed it happily like always, no matter how humiliating and mean it was, especially since you didn't even look him in the eyes or let your saliva drip slowly into his mouth, much more intimate, like you usually would do. "Good boy."

"Thank you, Mommy," he went back to kissing your waist, nose under your shirt, eyes looking up at you. Your right hand went back to resting on his head, threading through his long hair occasionally. "Look at me, please." There was something about you spitting in his mouth that always turned him so pathetic and shameless about his neediness — if you wouldn't judge him for swallowing your spit then he could express himself sexually to the fullest.

"As much as I want to, I can't, Baby. I'm driving," you took a quick glance down at him. His eyes were so glossy, almost like they would fill with tears at any second. You were so distracted by him but you were still aware enough to only look at him for a maximum of two seconds at a time. Although you were driving below the speed limit and hadn't seen another car in the past half hour you didn't want to risk anything.

He whined at that, causing you to smile. Soon it would be the opposite. His hand went under you shorts again, moving down your hip and to your lower stomach. You had a feeling you knew where this was going. Spitting didn't help slow him down and learn to be patient. No, spitting so meanly in his gaping mouth was the first time he'd had almost your full attention during the whole car ride so he had to continue misbehaving so you would humiliate him some more, giving him more and more of your attention. Sweet, stupid, sexy Beomgyu was something else.

His long fingers went lower until they reached your slit, happy now. "Baby—" Then, somehow, under your tight shorts he managed to move your underwear to the side so he could slip his long, thick middle finger in you. "Hm?" he mumbled against your waist, mind half listening to you and half inside your pussy, eyes rolled back like it was his dick in your pussy and not just his finger. Fuck. You had to find a way to get off the road but you were not very familiar with this road or even this part of the country — but like said before, this adventure had no directions or map.

"Are you this desperate, slut?"

He pulled his hand out to stick his wet finger in his mouth, licking, savouring the little taste he got of your pussy and mumbling an 'mhm'. He wanted more. He didn't just want to suck on his finger. He wanted your pussy on his face, wetness on his tongue and all over his face.

"Please, look at me, Mommy," he mumbled like a slut, sticking his pussy wet finger inside you to lick your sweetness again, eyes never leaving yours, "Need your pussy."

"You have to wait, little slut," you soothed him with your hand on his cheek.

He felt like crying. He needed you to stop the car somewhere; anywhere, he didn't care if he had to lay on the cold evening sand on the beach that would get all over his clothes and hair or, fuck, he would even be ok in the woods next to a camp site with German hikers as an audience as long as you would sit on his face. He needed you and your attention now. His dick was leaking pre-cum and you had only touched his face and hair so far.

"Please, Mommy," he kissed your stomach, middle finger deep inside you.

"Baby, wait, be patient," you were struggling too. Maybe you should just say fuck it and drive across everything in your way until you reach the beach so you can park the car and then park your pussy on his face? (Obviously no, be a responsible driver!!)

He wasn't satisfied with your response, you didn't sound anywhere near as needy or bothered as he was — your eyes didn't even leave the road for a second to look at the man whose face was on your lap — so he decided to take matters in his own hands and began to finger you deeply, easily adding a second finger with how wet you were.

"Fuck, baby!" you moaned, grabbing his hair and arching your back, eyes still on the road.

He took the opportunity and, with the help of his unoccupied hand, pulled down your shorts mid-thigh, making you shiver at the cold you felt as your wet underwear was exposed to the air. He looked up and blushed when he saw you already looking at him with your needy eyes. You were looking at him! His lips moved down your stomach and lower until he reached your underwear-covered pussy, placing a big kiss on your clit. You arched your back again, the sensation was so much greater now that only a thin fabric was between you.

Moaning, you looked at the road and saw a sign that told you there was a parking nearby in 800 meters. Fucking finally! He began kitty licking you and at this point you were so sensitive and needy that you had to pull him up by his hair, much to his dismay as he whined and his eyes filled with tears. "Why?"

"Baby, I found parking."

"Oh! Fucking finally!" As if a switch was flipped, his frown turned into a smile, a tear escaping his eye. He leaned into your touch as you brushed the tear away from his cheek.

You slowed down and turned the car into the parking lot, which was just grass with faded sprayed parking lines, miraculously deserted. He started kitty licking you over your underwear again. You moaned, grabbing his hair, "Fuck, Beomie, can't you wait for a little until I've parked? You're really that needy?" "Yes."

You decided to park the furthest away, turned towards the dead beach so you could have a view of the sunset and ocean — and the yellow, orange, red and pinks of the sky reflected on Beomgyu's pretty face, dirt-colored eyes twinkling like stars. "Baby, fuck, slow down," you had to pull him off your pussy.

"I can't," he took this opportunity to fully pull off your shorts to discard them to the back. "You didn't give me any attention when I just wanted to love you."

You kissed his pout, "You will have all my attention now, Baby."

The pout turned into a smile. "Thank you, Mommy." He pulled your right leg up, positioning his face in your pussy, dropping your thigh on top of his neck. His tongue immediately went to work, kissing all over your pussy, underwear still on. He always liked eating you out with your underwear on first so he felt more rewarded when they were off and he could taste, smell and feel your pussy so much more.

But you were having none of that, pussy clenching around nothing, aching at this point. "Stop teasing me and eat me out properly," you pulled your underwear to the side, grabbing his hair to push him more into you. He was looking at you and you could see the smile in his eyes, content he had your eyes on him and your pussy on his tongue. You had been teased and turned on so much already that you knew it would only take a minute or two of his talented tongue to cum. He too could sense you were near, hearing your gasps and moans, feeling your back arching, looking up at your eyes. His hands were on your thigh and boob, touching you the way he knew you liked it. The way his hand moved up your thigh to grab your butt never failed to make you feel hot.

"Choke me with your thighs, please?"

"If my slut wishes it," you smiled at him, flexing your thighs around him a little, not sure how much he could handle yet. Hair matted on his forehead, tears filling his high eyes, hands grabbing your skin, moaning against your pussy, and the colours of the sky on him. You didn't know it yet, focused on the pretty view that was Beomgyu, but he was leaking so much pre-cum there was a stain on his pants from the sweet familiar taste of you, seeing you in pleasure along with the pineapple purple sky sunset behind you.

"Fuck, you're doing so good for me, Baby. Your mouth was made to eat my pussy, wasn't it?" He nodded, mouth still against your pussy, tears flowing by now. It was true. He eats it almost everyday, sometimes he'll lazily lap at your pussy under the sheets in the morning, sometimes in the shower if you'll let him (yes, he can do that), sometimes when you're watching a boring movie he will lay on his back on the sofa and ask you to sit on his face, sometimes he'll get on his knees as soon as you open the door to your home after a double date because he's jealous some other guy made you laugh a lot, sometimes when you're waiting for noodles to cook on the stove he'll give you puppy eyes so you'll let him eat you out on the countertop — fuck, sometimes when he's bored he'll randomly get on his knees in front of you and beg you to please let him have a taste. Safe to say he has learned every little trick to please you and make you cum in a few minutes just by eating your pussy. And he loves it.

"Mhm, you're such a good boy for me, my sweet little pussy hungry slut," you pouted at him condescendingly; he moaned at the mean praise, hips twitching up. You looked down at him, there was a huge wet stain on the front of his pants. "Awww, Baby, you're so wet just from my pussy. I should let you cum on it for being such a good slut, right?" His moans on your pussy were so desperate and sent sweet, sweet vibrations that tipped you over the edge, thighs shaking around his neck, "Fuck, I'm cumming, Baby." He slowed down, eating your cum, helping you calm down from the intense orgasm, not overstimulating you. But after a while it became too much, your pussy way too sensitive for his never ending kitty licking, so you opened your thighs and pushed his head away.

"You did so well for me, Beomie," smiling, you patted his head softly, seeing the sunset shine in his pretty eyes, your cum glistening all over his lower face, tears dried, lips pulled into a smile after he was finished licking them clean. You pulled him up from between your thighs to give him a kiss on his forehead after pushing some damp hair away, "You want to get your reward now, Baby?" He gulped, still, not answering your question. "Baby... Don't tell me you already came—" you pulled down his pants to have your suspicions confirmed; he did, in fact, cum untouched. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cum without your permission, and I really wanted to hold back so I could cum on your pussy when you told me, but it felt so good to have your attention and taste you and-and— I couldn't control it. I'm so sorry," he cried, apologizing profusely.

You held him in your arms, fingers carding through his long, beautiful hair, "Beomie, it's okay, no need to say sorry. I'm very flattered actually. Besides your pretty mouth did so well for me that I can't be mad at you. You were such a good boy." He hummed against you, pecking your neck every now and then. After he calmed down, he pulled back to look at you; tears on his cheeks and half of the sun in his eyes. You dried his tears with your fingers and kissed him on his lips, calling him your good boy. The look in his eyes wasn't sad anymore. He gulped again before trying to give you his best puppy eyes, kissing the back of your hands. You knew he wanted something whenever he acted this clingy and cute, "Yes, Baby?"

"C-Can... Can I still cum on your pussy?"

You giggled, grabbing his cock, "You're hard again, this fast?" He hid his face with an arm, flustered, "Mhm. You kept calling me your good b-boy." "Awww my cute little slut. Getting hard from being called a good boy?" you giggled because although this was dirty, it was still somehow cute in a way how he got hard from your praise alone. He shook his head, face still hidden by his arm, "Your good boy." You smiled. "Mmm, Baby. You really are my good boy?" He nodded. You looked down at his dick, it was hard, pink and twitching, dirty with his previous cum. "Then show me your face, I don't want you hiding from me." His dick twitched and did as told. "Good boy." He shook his head, "I-I'm Mommy's good boy." He was always so cute and malleable whenever he came untouched and heard those sweet praises that tickled his soul. You kissed his shoulder as a reward. "Yes, mine. Now let me lay down so you can sit between my legs." "Oh yes." He did as told, hands behind his back without being told — he knew how you wanted him. You pulled him down to you momentarily to hold his cheeks and give him a quick kiss, both of you smiling into it. "I love you so much." "I love you more."

His pink dick was leaking pre-cum already. "My sweet boy won't cum without my permission again, right?" He whined, embarrassed, "I won't, Mommy, but please stop teasing." You giggled, he will cum any moment now you already know especially since he's so sensitive from his orgasm. Holding his dick confirmed your suspicions, Beomgyu moaning and dick twitching at your small touch. "Please, please, please," he muttered, tears already in his eyes, "Please, Mommy, I wanna cum on your pussy, please?" There was something about cumming on your pussy that drove him crazy, maybe it was because he would get an excuse to lick your pussy clean off him. "Not yet, Babyboy. I wanna play with you a bit first," you started moving your hand up and down on his cock, his loud moans following immediately after. He was struggling, biting his lower lip, pinching his arms behind his back, not looking at your naked pussy because he didn't want to cum without your permission again. "P-Please, Mommy. Ngh— I've been a good boy for you, please can I cum?" "Oh have you? Weren't you a bad boy the whole drive? And then you even came without Mommy's permission, right?"

He whined, tears running down his eyes again. "Please, Mommy, I'm so sorry I just wanted your attention. I-I always wanna please you and have your attention. Wan' be your personal toy." You smirked, going faster, "Yes, you are my little toy. So pretty and dirty for me." "Yes, yes, always. I— Fuck, I'm cumming, Mommy. Please, let me cum on your pussy, Mommy," he cried, looking at you with his slutty eyes. He knew how to get to you; how to look so sexy for you that you just wanted to reward him. "You can cum, my good b—" "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck— Thank you, Mommy." His eyes rolled back as white ropes of warm cum covered your pussy. "You did so well for me, waiting for my permission," you hugged him as he came down from his high, kissing his cheeks. "Really?" He pouted, fishing for more praises, which you knew and granted him, "Yes, really. My good boy." You kissed his pout, "Now clean up your mess." He smiled.

You and I, we fell in love

I ain't read the signs, ain't know what it was

But God gotta know he might have peaked when he made you

The cosmos' only mistake is what they named you (what that mean?)

They should call you sugar, you're so sweet

Even if

You left me out here stranded

My feelings wouldn't change a bit

My heart beats triple time when I see you

Somethin' I can't control

If I compared you, the sun is a stand-in (sun)

You got a smile that could light up a planet (smile) yeah (oh, oh)

And you look so good (yeah)

And you smell so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

And you taste so good (yeah)

And you're so, so good (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

You're the sweetest (yeah)

Yeah, you are, ha-ha

Sweet like, like motherfuckin' brown sugar sweet potatoes (are you ready?)

Or somethin'

Ha-ha

The plan was to stick my toe in and

Check the temperature, but

Next thing I know, I'm

I'm drownin'

— Tyler, the Creator

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valentincflores · 2 months ago

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starter for: @nikoramsey location: chapman's grocer time: four years ago

Val and Leyla had recently fallen down the rabbit hole of meal prepping on TikTok. They’d spent hours scrolling through recipe videos, meticulously crafting a shopping list based on their ambitious plans. And Val, ever the optimist, had volunteered to handle the grocery run.

Did either of them have much experience in the kitchen? Not really. Were these ingredients likely to die a slow, painful death in the freezer, untouched for months? Absolutely. But at this moment, no one could convince Val and Leyla otherwise. This time, they were going to follow through. For real!

Now, with a grocery cart piled high — practically overflowing with ingredients she barely knew how to pronounce — Val weaved her way through the narrow aisles of Chapman’s, trying to finish strong by grabbing a few sweet treats as a reward for their efforts.

That’s when she saw him.

At the end of the aisle, standing by a display of overpriced olive oil, was Niko. As if he hadn’t haunted enough of her life already, there he was, in the grocery story of the town she lived in, casually studying a bottle like he wasn’t the human equivalent of an emotional landmine.

Val’s stomach sank. Her first instinct? Abort mission. Without thinking, she spun on her heel to retreat—but her overloaded cart didn’t get the memo. The wheels jammed against the shelf, causing the entire cart to lurch sideways.

In horrifying slow motion, a precariously balanced stack of canned tomatoes tumbled from the top of the cart and hit the floor, followed by a landslide of bell peppers, frozen broccoli, and what sounded suspiciously like a jar of marinara sauce cracking open.

¡Mierda!

Heads turned. A chorus of startled gasps echoed from nearby shoppers. And of course, when Val dared a glance over her shoulder, Niko was staring right at her. Her heart hammered. Pain, longing, and sheer mortification all twisted together like a cruel cocktail. Desperate, she bent down to gather the rolling produce, mumbling, “Totally fine. Just... testing gravity.” A teenager pushing a nearby cart gave her a sympathetic thumbs-up.

#interaction: niko #( ft. niko ramsey )#flashback #ok this got RIDICULOUSLY long for absolutely no reason!#no need to match length at all!!

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wordy-little-witch · 11 months ago

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Can we know about Atlas or Buggy Seraphim idea you have. Are they smaller than S-Hawk and S-Crocodile? What are the reactions of Buggy, Crocodile, Mihawk, and everyone else?

So I actually don't have like. A STRICT idea for S-Buggy, all in all. But what I DO have is this:

• he is, indeed, smaller than the rest. My personal thought process is that while they ARE made between cybernetics, lunarian and sourced DNA, they also have to.... idek I guess like INCUBATE. So if they got the DNA for Buggy during Impel Down, growth would be a lil closer to the rest. Still notably OFF but not quite so... teeny.

If it was only after he was named a Warlord, then I can see Atlas being visibly MUCH younger than the others.

Let's say for these purposes the current seraphim are around 10~. Atlas would be, on the older end, about 7-8~. On the lower end, he could be from 2-5~.

• he's semi or nonverbal! He either prefers to or can only speak in sign. Buggy has stints where he goes semi-verbal, and he was a late talker himself, but for Atlas it's. A constant thing. Words are hard.

• his wings are disproportionally tiny compared to the others and the tips of his feathers are white-grey.

• he wears a cat ear beanie!! Loves cats!!! Loves all animals actually. Give that boy an animal encyclopedia and he's RIVETED for HOURS

• his Haki is.... very strange. His range for Observation is outright NUTS and nobody expected to have a nonverbal cyborg baby going into a sensory overload every time he tried using his Haki. ((His abilities there are currently disabled btw))

• loves music

• kind of clingy all things considered. Atlas is real hesitant about trust but once you've gotten into his I Trust You Group, he's following you like a duckling.

As for reactions -

Buggy

• this is... it's complicated, okay? He's doing his best but seeing the kid initially gives him.... so much anxiety. On the one hand, the carefully cultivated persona he's crafted is now going to inevitably implode. It's already well past salvaging as is, but smth about having the final nail in the coffin makes his chest knot up.

• is very patient and doesn't treat Atlas any differently from any of the other seraphim. That's a kid, they're ALL kids, and Buggy's a clown - making kids happy is literally in the Code.

• he will forget sometimes that not everyone knows sign language so he and Atlas will be absolutely going HAM about something and get really confused and/or offended when someone interjects or asks what they're doing.

• he absolutely calls Atlas smth like "my little mime" or "mime of mine", and it makes people melt. Carries him ((and the others as needed)) around, usually on his hip, can and will pepper faces in kisses and swing them around to get squeals and laughter.

• mama buggy supremacy need I say more /hj

Mihawk

• was certainly not expecting this. Like. At all. Hawkeye Mihawk was blindsided.

• ngl was very hesitant on having ANOTHER vulnerable party on the island, especially one so.... small. His own seraphim and Crocodile's seemed so intimidatingly tiny and then this little guy just.... proves everything wrong there. Holy fuck.

• when he realizes Altas's Haki is so sensitive, he asks Buggy what he does to cope. When he finds out Buggy always just.... locked it down, he's flabbergasted. Makes it his MISSION to research oversensitive oberservation haki. His spouse and tiniest child deserve better.

• is very good with Atlas's sensory needs and winds up also encouraging the other seraphim to be more open as well. None of these bitches are neurotypical.

• if asked, he will deny getting a little choked up when Atlas, Birdie and Angel each called him some variant of father. He did though. He absolutely did.

Crocodile

• he's too big and cool and wealthy for feelings (/j). But if he did have them, he'd be extra soft with Atlas. Angel and he click due to many reasons. He and Birdie are decently close. He and Atlas are... a little different. For one, the tiny little clown lunarian is so.... well..... tiny. And quiet. He likes small, cute, quiet things.

• he spoils all of the kids absolutely, but if anyone asks, he'll gut you. Stop. He has a reputation damn it.

• considered getting an AAC book, not only for Atlas but definitely considered heavily with the kid's presence and needs.

• was a little concerned with all the little red flags from all the kids, but ESPECIALLY from Atlas - especially because he can see the red flags now in Buggy too, now hidden under layers upon layers of masking. Reptile man is doing some math here.

• sometime the world gets a little too Much for Atlas, and Crocodile will never admit to the Emotions that come up when the kid creeps up to him, tugs on his pants leg, and signs 'hide, coat?' He let's the kid take as much time as he needs and does NOT stop to think on the ramifications of being considered a Safe Place for him ((He thinks it a lot))

BONUS REACTIONS

Angel

• the Oldest of the seraphim because he came out first so OBVIOUSLY he's the biggest and oldest. Takes his role as Big Brother VERY seriously

• weird mix of VERY protective and Cain Instinct. He'd never ever ever hurt Atlas but sometimes his baby brother is just........ so very.......... smackable.............

• learned sign in the lab a little later than the others, uses it far less, but knows most of the swears.

• complains about how ANNOYING having brothers is but if anyone else complains about his brothers, he'll throw hands.

Birdie

• still thinks he should be the oldest since he was STARTED first and only came out after Angel due to technical issues, but whatever

• still deciding on his name but is very tempted to follow Atlas's example and pick something Cool and Mythical. Is debating Avalon but isn't sure he wants to commit to the accidental A-theme they'd have going on.

• he learned sign the first after it turned out Atlas couldn't or wouldn't talk. Played it off as a useful skill to have anyway. Secretly a big softie.

• he's the type to wordlessly take Atlas's hand in a crowded area to make sure he "doesn't get lost or kidnapped", tries to play it cool but always flutters his wings that little bit more when a smaller hand holds his own just a lil tighter.

• preens the others far more, but absolutely keeps any spare feathers bc he knows Atlas likes them.

• milder Cain Instinct but he can and will bite with and without warning. Not even always aggressive either. Sometimes he just loves someone so much he just noms

• usually keeps Atlas company when he's overwhelmed and needs to decompress - he's either a cuddle buddy or a silent sentry if protection. Anyone who tries to interrupt gets stabbed

#witchy answers!!#seraphims #cross guild poly #seraphim buggy #seraphim crocodile #seraphim mihawk #buggy d. clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #i love them so much #lil guysssss #some things change a lil depending on AU #but these are my genera takes

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darkenedroses-world · 3 months ago

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Handcrafted Love — Isaacwhy x Reader

🔹 Fluff 🔹 Supportive Isaac 🔹 Reader’s Hobbies 🔹 Chat Drama 🔹 GN!Reader 🔹 Defending Reader 🔹 Light Banter 🔹 Faceless Isaac 🔹 Creative Reader 🔹 Comfort Vibes 🔹 Request 🦋

Isaac’s streams were known for their chaos—wild clips, relentless banter, and a chat that never seemed to let up. Tonight was no different, except for one thing: you. You had made it a habit to occasionally drop by his streams to show off your latest creations, which ranged from quirky crafts to intricate designs. It was something Isaac had started to look forward to, even if his chat had mixed reactions. “Alright, chat,” Isaac’s familiar voice came through the stream. “Y/N’s back with another craft. Prepare to be blown away—or, you know, try not to be haters for once.” “Hey, Isaac!” you said, your excitement evident even through the audio. “Guess what I made this time?” “Hold on, let me guess,” Isaac said, the sound of his chair creaking as he leaned closer to the mic. “Another masterpiece? Go ahead, hit me with it.” You held up the intricate clay rose in front of your camera. “It’s a rose! Made out of clay. I wanted it to look as realistic as possible.” “Wait—hold up. You made that by hand?” Isaac’s tone lifted with genuine amazement. “That’s crazy! How long did that even take you?” “A few hours,” you admitted, a shy smile creeping onto your face. “But I love doing stuff like this. It’s so relaxing.” Chat, however, had other opinions. Messages scrolled by quickly.

she’s back at it again with the crafts

a rose? Kinda basic

does she do anything else?

Isaac’s voice cut through the chatter, sharp and unamused. “Okay, chat, let’s take a breath here,” he said, the teasing edge gone from his voice. “First of all, Y/N’s hobbies are way cooler than anything you’ve got going on. Second, if you’ve got time to sit here and hate, why not use it to make something half as decent? I’ll wait.” The chat stilled for a moment, and a small smirk crept into Isaac’s tone. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Keep it positive, alright? Or I’ll start timing people out.” You couldn’t help but laugh softly, his firm defense warming your chest. “Thanks, Isaac. You didn’t have to do that.” “Of course I did,” he said, his voice lighter now. “What you’re doing is awesome, and I’m not letting a bunch of randoms ruin that. Seriously, keep the crafts coming. Next time, you better send me one so I can brag about it.” The chat’s mood shifted after that, peppering in questions like “What’s it made of?” and “How do you get it to look so real?” Isaac occasionally chimed in, his playful commentary making the interaction even better. “By the way,” he added after a beat, “don’t let chat’s trash talk stop you. You’re basically my stream’s resident artist at this point.” Your grin widened, his words settling deep in your chest. “I’ll hold you to that. And I might just send you the next one if you’re lucky.” “I better be,” Isaac teased, his voice laced with a warmth that made your cheeks heat. “Chat, take notes. That’s how you support someone’s hobbies. Now, let’s move on before I start crafting roses myself.” By the end of the stream, you felt lighter. Isaac’s unwavering support had turned what could’ve been a disheartening moment into one filled with pride and validation. And later, as you sat with your newest idea in mind, your phone buzzed with a text.

Don’t forget to make me something next time. I’m serious. You’re amazing, Y/N.

#concept writing #youtube #request #isaacwhy #isaacwhy x reader #isaacwhy fics #Spotify

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sarahowritesostucky · 1 year ago

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📖"Merry & Bright"

Part 3 - Family Fun Night

Merry & Bright Masterlist

Rated: Teen

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Tags: a/b/o, omega Bucky, alpha Steve, kid fic, Karens

Summary: Bucky and Steve go to their daughters' school play.

(If your name is Karen, I'm sorry and sending warm hugs)

Bucky’s been able to ignore the encroaching Holiday season for longer than usual this year.

Between the warm-ish fall weather and his continuing therapy appointments, the ceaseless calls from his publisher and that guy from Warner Brothers, and the move and the overwhelming demands of a newborn, it’s just hard to believe that it could already be Thanksgiving next week.

Steve’s next text coming through just about drives a bulldozer through that delusion:

Steve: Hey, I’m at the store right now. You want me to pick anything up for this ‘Friendsgiving’-extravaganza? I know Jarvis said he’s got it handled, but I feel like we should have backups for the girls? Just in case Tony’s picked out some sort of weird, avant garde menu? Becs really has her heart set on pumpkin pie. And Sarah, well …

Bucky: You could ask Pepper. I think we’re safe as long as there’s mac ‘n’ cheese and rolls. Anyway we’ve got over a week to sort it out.

Steve: … Babe, today’s Tuesday. We’ve got two days.

Bucky immediately checks his phone calendar, and sure enough, Thanksgiving is this week, not next. Fuck.

“Ohshit,” he breathes, eyes bugging out of his head as he realizes that this means tonight is the school play, not next Tuesday. “Fuck. Shit!” In his hands, his phone chimes.

Steve: So, pie?

Bucky texts back a harried ‘yes’, thinking that he’s got to get his butt back to the tower immediately. He very suddenly has only about nine hours before his children need to be fitted with their (as of yet not even near-to-finished) homemade costumes. Becca’s paper mache drumstick still needs spray painted, and Sarah’s supposed to be a scoop of mashed potatoes that Bucky still needs to find something to act as the pat of butter on top.

“Jarvis, help.” Bucky says as he hoofs it back in the direction of the tower.

Jarvis’ voice emanates from his phone: “Mr. Rogers. How can I be of assistance?”

Bucky rattles off the craft supplies they’re going to need. “And if you know anyone on Stark’s payroll who’s good with a needle and thread, that wouldn’t hurt either.”

It seems like only yesterday they were dressed up as Buzz and Woody, letting Bo Peep and a very bossy Jessie drag them around from house to house. They’d trick-or-treated in the Cobble Hill neighborhood where they technically don’t live yet but will soon, once the house is finished being refurbished. Bucky had carried Gabe strapped to his front as one of the Little Green Men alien squeaker toy thingies, and Steve had pulled a wagon along for when one or both of the girls inevitably became too tuckered out to—

Anyhow, point is: it feels like they were trick‘or’treating all of two seconds ago.

And now Thanksgiving is in two days? What the everloving fuck?

Bucky spends a very brief amount of time that afternoon being irrationally mad at his husband, as if it’s Steve’s fault that his pregnancy brain has apparently extended into the postpartum period and allowed him to lose track of time. He grumps privately that Steve should’ve somehow magically known that he was mentally operating in the wrong week, and should have thus alerted him that the holiday was imminent! Stupid Steve. What the hell is the alpha good for, anyway?

Later that evening of course, he realizes how ridiculous that is. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s actually upset with himself—partly because of the mad scramble he’s left with to get ready for Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy’s family fun night, but even moreso because of the 5k he now has to face up to in less than forty-eight hours. (What real, qualitative difference one more week of jogging in the park was really going to make, Bucky can’t say, but he’d been counting on it to help him work his confidence up about the whole ordeal.)

It’s not like he wouldn’t back out of it if he could, but he absolutely cannot back out. This is the first ever Brooklyn Bridge American Heroes Turkey Trot, co-sponsored by Stark Industries and Barnes Prosthetics (yes, Bucky is the genius who thought it’d be fine and dandy to plan a 5k less than half a year after giving birth). Together, he and Tony have started a foundation for veterans and civilian victims of the regime years, to help provide them access to the high quality, bio-integrative prosthetics that Bucky’s company makes.

Since it’s not exactly cheap to weld a robot arm onto somebody, Bucky and Tony have partnered with Wounded Warrior Project for this charity run; done to raise funds for vets who don’t happen to have a spare ninety grand lying around to fund their surgeries. The limbs themselves are, of course, all provided free of charge by Barnes Prosthetics, and the overall costs are at least somewhat ameliorated by various amenities provided by Stark.

As the visible face of the charity, Bucky’s got no choice: he needs to show up, show off, and show support. He’s expected to be there to make nice with all the other amputees who’ll be running, and to show off how happy and perfect his life is now that he’s got the Asset IV prototype cybernetic implant attached to his body. It is a bitchin’ arm, and Bucky is excited to get to hand one of those gigantic cardboard checks over to the Wounded Warrior guys, but he really, really wishes he’d thought to postpone the Foundation’s first run until next Thanksgiving.

At least he’ll have Steve there with him, he thinks. His Alpha has promised not to outpace him to any embarrassing degree, Darcy is fine with keeping Gabe until they get back, and Tony has even arranged to have the girls set up for the Macy’s parade with a disgustingly VIP viewing situation on Central Park West. But aside from those few hours on Thanksgiving morning, Bucky’s daughters will remain under his purview for the holidays this year.

And the hubbub begins with Family Fun Night that evening.

Bucky alone has to deal with Sarah’s anxiety problems leading up to the curtain call for this stupid fucking school play. “Hold still, Honey,” he begs, speaking past the safety pin he’s got held between his lips as he kneels there and uses both of his hands to try and do a last minute costume fix. “Sarah I said hold still.”

“Fix it daddy, fix it!”

He’s crouched next to his youngest daughter in the school’s hallway, trying to better secure the pat of “butter” (a folded yellow tea towel) to the top of her not-so-great mashed potato costume. Steve is off somewhere with the drumstick, helping her to not be scared about walking out on stage. “Baby, please. I can’t fix it if you keep moving around,” Bucky growls, but his frustrated tone only makes Sarah get more hysterical about her role in the play being messed up by a floppy tea towel. She starts to cry about how she doesn’t want to do this anymore.

“Sarah Winnifred, I swear to God, if you don’t hold still, you’re gonna have a new hole poked in your head!”

He and Steve sit proudly in the fourth row back and watch the play that their children’s overpriced prep school is putting on before it lets out for Thanksgiving break.

At the end of the final song, when all of the students are lined up on the stage like a demented paper-mache buffet of human-sized food items, bowing hand in hand, Steve and Bucky rise with all the other parents for a standing ovation, humongous smiles plastered on their faces. Steve tries to do a finger whistle with middling success, then he leans over to Bucky’s ear and cheerfully whispers, “That was so dumb!”

Bucky laughs, still clapping and beaming with absolute pride for his daughters. “Yeah it was friggin’ awful!”

The curtain falls, and he and Steve exit the auditorium to go backstage and congratulate the girls. A very excited drumstick and mashed potatoes run up and start talking over each other to tell their fathers all about the play that they just performed. “Papa! Daddy! Did you see me?! Did you see my song?!!”

“What about meee?!”

“Sure did, Becs. You were really good!”

“The best turkey drumstick ever.”

For being such excellent thespians and to celebrate their acting debut, they present the girls with two foil-wrapped tulips that they bought out in the lobby. Becca especially, seems very proud of her flower, twirling in her drumstick costume and holding it to her nose again and again. Bucky’s smile wavers with emotion as he gets that warm, shot-of-whiskey feeling once again, and he remembers that Life is Good. He catches Steve’s eye from over top of the mashed potatoes, and they share one of those silent “I Love You” moments. Steve shoots him a wink.

It being family fun night, Darcy appears as planned and ushers the girls away to go change back into regular clothes before they head over to the kids’ party in the gymnasium. Meanwhile, Steve and Bucky go to the reception that’s been put together for the parents. Bucky isn’t super keen on attending, but he promised the girls that they could play games with the other kids for at least an hour, so he and Steve make an admirable attempt to mingle amongst the other parents.

Coulton-Chestor Preparatory Academy is an exclusive elementary school on the Upper East Side. Due to its sheer proximity to Stark Tower, and since bussing the girls all the way to Brooklyn for an entire year would’ve been too much of a hassle, Steve and Bucky chose to enroll them there. It’s only temporary, until the renovations on the Cobble Hill house are complete and they’re able to move back to Brooklyn. Bucky is looking forward to being able to walk his children the two picturesque blocks between their house and the neighborhood school each day.

But until then, it’s the more snobbish parents and overzealous PTA moms of Coulton-Chestor that he has to navigate at functions such as tonight’s. Bucky’s been taking some time off work ever since things got very pregnant-and-miserable in about month eight, but he still considers himself a working father, and as such there is an awkward disconnect between him and the more … involved stay-at-home parents who surround him at the reception.

At least there are hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, which give him something to do with his hands. Steve starts chatting with a few of the parents who are running the silent auction, and Bucky avoids getting drawn into bidding on overpriced theater tickets by heading over to the refreshments table. He’s just finished loading up on a bunch of mini quiches and cocktail weenies, when the one person he’d hoped to fully avoid at this function makes her attack. Bucky turns around with his little plate of foot and startles as he’s suddenly faced with a familiar, blonde-haired woman.

“James!” She’s got a tea-length dress, an overly-whitened smile, and a ponytail that’s been curled to within an inch of its life. It’s Karen.

(No, her name is literally Karen.)

And in Bucky’s limited experience with her, she has an uncanny ability to make every social interaction the exact opposite of what Bucky would like it to be. It’s just a gift some people have.

She swoops in with two other omega parents by her sides, introducing them as “Jill” and “Nate.” Bucky plasters on a smile to match hers while she air kisses his cheeks in that way that rich people who think they’re cultured always do.

“You made it,” she coos, acting pleased to see him. In all fairness, she might be. Bucky’s never point blank told the woman that he finds her insufferable, and she always seems to make a beeline for the more well-to-do parents. Ever since she found out that Bucky and Steve not only rub shoulders with Tony Stark, but are actually living with him, she’s been eager to make Bucky one of her besties. “It’s been too long. How are you, darling?”

“Oh, you know,” Bucky says, gesturing with his plate of cocktail weenies. “Hanging in there.”

“And how is that gorgeous new baby of yours doing?” she asks, nudging Jill to announce, “James is married to Commander Rogers. They have three children.”

Jill and Nate make a polite fuss over that, while Bucky tries to act gracious and think of a way to correct Karen that “Commander” isn’t Steve’s title, and if he ever hears her referring to him as such, he’ll be offended. “How is your family doing?” Bucky asks, more to get the topic off himself rather than due to any real interest.

Like most of the Coulton-Chestor moms, Karen is married to a well-to-do Alpha, has precisely one child, and spends her time trying to climb as high in Manhattan “Mommy” society as possible. Having a living child at all is automatically a foot up in terms of social standing, Bucky’s learned, and the moms of Park Avenue lord their accomplishments higher than most. Most times Bucky’s met her, Karen’s been wearing diamond solitaires with designer workout clothes and brandishing her own fertility like a damn merit badge.

Karen brags about her son for a few minutes, and when it seems like everyone in their small group is necessitated to take a turn with regards to their own offspring, Bucky throws some random fact out about how the girls have been doing. Jill and Nate start gushing over Bucky’s grand accomplishment of having three kids, which is practically unheard of.

“You must be so proud. How lucky to have three healthy children!”

“What were yours in the play?” Jill asks, and she seems friendly enough so Bucky makes an effort to tell her about how he’s responsible for the turkey leg and the mashed potatoes. She giggles and nods and says her son was one of the pumpkins.

“Oh, ha, yeah. They had quite the little dance routine, didn’t they?”

Bucky’s smile turns annoyed when Karen feels the need to point out, “Yes! And your little Rebecca kept up alright, didn’t she? She seemed able to follow along with the other kids quite well!”

“Yes,” Bucky says peevishly. “She’s very talented.”

“Isn’t it wonderful here? I just love how inclusive Coulton-Chestor is,” Karen simpers. She turns to the other moms and starts telling them about how Becca is in her son’s “regular” class, and how she’s always so sweet, and so helpful to the other students. She talks about Becca like she’s a little mascot, or a class pet, and it rankles Bucky’s nerve to no end.

Since the fertility crisis began, there’s been more stigma placed on children with any sorts of disabilities, and Bucky’s had to deal with a lot of thinly-veiled prejudice due to his daughter’s special needs ever since he started advocating to get her into the same high-quality school programs as Sarah. The public school system still hasn’t recovered, and with limited slots available in all childcare-related fields these days, people are more ruthlessly competitive for their children than ever before.

“Yes, we like it here,” Bucky agrees. “Though we’ll be switching to a different school next year, when we move to the new house over in Brooklyn.”

“You’re not leaving The Tower?” Karen gasps, as if that’s the most horrible, ludicrous decision. Given that she makes it sound like Bucky and his family are choosing to move out of friggin’ Buckingham Palace, Nate and Jill predictably get curious and ask:

“The ‘Tower’?”

“Stark Tower,” Karen chirps, excited to tell the other two omegas, “James and his husband live there.”

Nate’s eyebrows go up. “They live there. In the tower?”

“Oh yes! Didn’t you know? Why, they’re friends with the Starks.”

“Really? Oh, I’ve heard such good things about that Pepper Potts,” Jill gushes. “Seems like a lovely woman. How do you know her?”

Bucky smiles, pained. “Actually I knew Tony first. We work together.”

“You work?” Nate sneers. Bucky ignores him.

“Yeah, I met Tony back during the, ah … well, during the regime years.”

“Gilead? Oh. Huh.”

(“Wonder what the Starks were doing, back then? Were they married then?”

“You never do hear what celebrities got up to during all that, do you?”

“No, you never do.”)

Bucky hums, not intending to get into a conversation about it, but Karen forces his hand by volunteering, “Wasn’t that all in your book though, James?”

“Um,”

Karen enthusiastically tells the others, “He was one of those resistance fighters, can you believe it? That’s how he lost his arm.” (Everybody’s eyes not-so-surreptitiously fly to where Bucky’s left hand is sticking out of his sweater, holding onto the plate of hors d'oeuvres.) “And he was a vessel. His husband was one of the commanders down in Washington. That’s where they met!”

“Really?”

“Steve wasn’t a real commander …” Bucky hedges.

“Oh he wrote a whole book about it! You really must read it.” Karen rattles off the title and both Nate and Jill make sounds of recognition.

“Ooh. You know, I’ve heard of that book.”

“Great,” Bucky mutters. He has to smile along politely and answer them as they start asking him fascinated questions, with Karen supplying details every time he tries to demure and change the topic to something less sensational.

“He’s just being modest!” she simpers, laying her hand on Bucky’s arm in an overly familiar way. “James, tell them about how you were on the View.”

Bucky reluctantly does, and Jill and Nate nod along, enthused to hear about how he’s been on television and met the hosts of the show. “It really wasn’t all that exciting,” Bucky insists. “I wasn’t the main guest. They had, you know, real celebrities that went after me. Reese Witherspoon and stuff.”

“You met Reese Witherspoon?”

“No, no. I didn’t. I was only there for like, two minutes. It wasn’t even important.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Karen prods smugly. “A little birdy told me that Netflix was trying to buy up the film rights to your book.”

Bucky doesn’t even care, he openly shoots her a withering glare this time. “I can assure you that’s not true.” (It’s HBO, and it isn’t Bucky’s fault if she doesn’t have her details right.)

Karen continues to gab to the other two parents about it anyway, insisting that some omega heartthrob actor whom Bucky has never heard of would be the ideal casting choice to portray him in the film version of his book. “And Chris Hemsworth. Oh! Wouldn’t he just be perfect to play your Steve?”

“Nobody’s making a movie out of it!” Bucky snaps, fed up with her incessant gossiping. “It’s not happening.” He looks around awkwardly at the end of his outburst, aware of Nate and Jill’s surprised expressions. “Um, I just mean: the studios were shopping around,” he mutters. “But I said no.”

Of course this is very disappointing to Karen, and she tries to tell Bucky what a mistake that is, talking about how interested everybody would be in the subject matter. “I just saw an episode of the Dr. Phil show where they were talking about it,” she says. “They had wives and some of those vessels on. Even a commander.”

Bucky hums dispassionately. “Sounds like trash tv to me.” He’ll be damned if he lets Karen know he was asked onto that program as well. “Just people trying to make a spectacle out of it.”

Karen titters awkwardly and agrees, but Bucky can tell that she’s annoyed at him for shutting her gossip down. “Well, it’s all very controversial, of course,” she excuses. “And a commitment like that would just be so much more on your plate.”

Bucky nods, glad that she’s dropping it. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“After all, you’re already a working mother,” she says, saying ‘working’ all hurriedly and quietly, as if it’s something not to be mentioned. “I’m sure you just want to focus on your family, now. With the new baby and all.”

“Congratulations,” Jill gushes. “Did you have a boy or a girl?”

“A boy. Gabe. He just turned four months old last week.”

“Oh, how wonderful.”

“Another omega for your family?”

“No, Karen,” Bucky says, annoyance audible in his voice. “We haven’t had him tested. We’re just going to wait and find out the old fashioned way.”

“Oh. I see.”

They all seem taken aback, because it’s very rare for a newborn not to be tested for designation these days. Much to Bucky’s chagrin, gender roles only seem to be becoming more emphasized than ever. Jill chuckles awkwardly and tries to lighten the mood. “Well, that’s so progressive of you. Dan had our little Archie in an alpha playgroup by the time he could crawl, I swear.”

They all titter over that, and Bucky tries to scan the room for any sight of Steve without being too obvious in what he’s doing. He spots him over by the punch bowl. “Um, I’m sorry,” he excuses. “I think I see my husband calling me.” He starts to make his escape, but Karen grabs him just as he’s turning.

“Oh, James, wait! We wanted to ask if you’d help us plan the Winter Gala.”

“Oh, I uh.”

“We’re going to have the children do a nativity scene. And I was thinking a candlelight service. Wouldn’t that just be picturesque?”

Bucky makes a face. “Sorry, Karen. My family isn’t very religious.”

“Oh, no but it’ll be interdenominational!” she insists with a big grin. “You celebrate Christmas, of course!”

“No.”

“... No?”

“Not really,” Bucky grunts. “I mean, we do a tree and a menorah and all that, but ..."

“Menorah?” she says, and the way she squinches her eyes sets Bucky’s nerves on edge. “You’re not Jewish?”

Bucky pulls his arm back to himself. “Culturally, yes. Steve’s family is Catholic, mine’s Jewish. But we’ve decided that organized religion isn’t what’s right for our family.”

“Oh! But you can still come to the church service!” Karen says brightly. “It’ll be—”

“We’re not religious,” Bucky blurts out, sick of stepping around the issue and having lost his patience. He’s tired of politely fielding other people’s invitations for him and his husband and children to come and check out ‘this congregation’ or that, and figures he’ll just squash any chance there might be of him actually getting roped into planning holiday festivities with the Coulton-Chestor evangelical set. “We’re pretty much raising the girls Atheist,” he tells Karen, watching as her smile flickers like a bulb hanging on by its very last filament. He feels a degree of nasty satisfaction at having perturbed her.

Disturbingly, the Christian Right has continued to grow in popularity—culturally, if not politically—these past few years, and Bucky has very little tolerance for it (he tried to show tolerance before the regime, and look how that ended up). He knows his family is in the minority, and it’s very apparent how this information makes the friendly light in even Nate and Jill’s eyes dim somewhat.

“I’m sure you’ll plan something great, though,” he excuses brightly, turning around to go and find Steve and see if it isn’t too early to make their escape. “It was nice catching up!”

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

This has been a fill for:

@steverogersbingo

Card: SB3088 || stark-contrast

Square D3: Slice of Life

@marvel-smash-bingo

Card: sarah-writes-stucky

Square I5: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers

@stuckyversebingo

Card: sarahyellow / sarah-writes-stucky

Square C4: alpha/omega relationship

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kameyyy · 4 months ago

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Hello Mey!!!! Lovely to be here again!!! this is my last one of the night I think *sweats*

Mattsun!!! :D

So this was already seen by you but like he is such a skin to skin contact person

like you're in a sweater or hoodie and he crawls under it and pokes his head out of the neck hole too

He likes to wake you up by peppering kisses on your face

he starts food fights in the kitchen anytime you two try and cook because he can't help himself he just wants to have fun with you lol

does he buy you flowers? no he makes them out of soda can tabs

he's a crafty bitch I just know it

it's like a secret talent, you guys are having a hangout with the others (the seijoh 4) and you guys want to make crafts that you saw on tiktok and bro just goes ham on it but like he's so nonchalant about it

he's like "oh? you didn't know I could do that?" but we all know he's so flipping smug about it

he can't draw but can he craft? absolutely

he likes origami too, he went on a bender in middle school where he stayed up all night making different things and it's just stuck with him

get ready for origami frogs and balloons and stuff

he takes your spare gum wrappers to make little hearts out of them and give them back to you

there's a photo on his nightstand of the two of you together (like before you guys live together) and it's like his favorite photo of the two of you

someone got you two "fighting" in the snow and it's the moment where you're smacking a snowball down on his head and the both of you just have the widest smiles on your faces

which brings me to. snowball fights are a must

like you have to, he is forcing you to put gloves and a coat and stuff on and pulling you outside to snowball fight with him

I could have done more but I'll save that for a later date <3 I love you Mey, sleep well and make sure to take care of yourself darling <333

-all the love in the world, Kai <3

HI KAI !!! i finally feel awake enough to answer and find words and not just go nonverbal and stare at a wall in disassociation delusion style ! :D this took me hours so answer sorry, I had to take breaks because I love this man too much and in a way that would make me end up in a mental hospital if word ever got to my parents ! [insert crying emoji]

SKIN TO SKIN CONTACT WIITH MATTSUN AAAAAAAAAA it's perfect because my love language is physical touch !!!!! I'm gonna crash out guys omg I am not ok

oh I love him I love him I love him I love him I love him, like this is perfect I love it kai I love it so so so much !! my necklines of shirts are always stretched out anyway because I cover the bottom of my face with it when I'm laying down or sitting at a table (started with insecurity, now its just a comfy habit) so he'd have aaaaaaaaaall the space he needs LOL

kai I imagined this. i imagined this when I woke up at 9 am to reply to some people and I crashed out. i had to stop reading the rest because I couldn't handle it. oh my god. I'm ticklish in all sort of ways and I'm a light sleeper and oh my fucking god what if I km GODDDDDDD WHY IS HE NOT REAL

I love him I need food fights with mattsun now

HE MAKES THEM HIMSELF OH MY GOD

you're so right kai and it makes me want him even more

stoppppppp omg I love this I love this this is canon to me now GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD I'M NOT OKAY

no I didn't know about it but it makes him so incredibly hot and attractive I'm gonna km this is too much I cant handle it I need to buy a gun oh my god oh my god

oh I now his ass sucks at drawing, like his skill on the same level of a kid in kindergarten (I love it)

ORIGAMI OH MY GOD HE COULD MAKE PAPER FLOWERS OH MY GOD KAI I'M ACITIVELY DYING RN I AM HASHTAG NAWT OK I AM NAWT OK I AM NAWT OK

oragami frogs and balloons and stuff omg I'm keeping them all and displaying them proudly in my room. they're on my desk, bedside table, window sill, shelf, in my closet, on some random books littered around the room, on my wall, etc

STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP KAI YOU'RE KILLING ME I'M NOT OK!!!!!!! i keep all of them as well. they're in my bag, jacket, phone case and in a special box dedicated to him/us.

i am deceased and I'm writing this reply with my cold corpse. A PICTURE OF US ON HIS NIGHTSTAND ?????????? CRAHSING TF OUT OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD !!!!!

THAT'S SO CUTEEEE OH MY GODDDD !!!!!!!!!! well that someone either has to be dodger, hanamaki or ennoshita (he is my best friend in self-ship-verse) AND AAAAAAAAAAAA

oh yeah they are, my excuse to beat his ass (I miss 99.9% of the time, I have no aim in any form or way)

...what if he zips my jacket for me GOD I'M NOT OK WHY AM I THINKING THIS GODDDDDDDD

kai i love this. i thank you with every fiber of my being for sending those headcanons to me I am going to buy a gun now. i love you kai, really, thank you so so much for doing this. i admire you a lot for thinking about this kind of stuff, I need AGES to even form one thought. thank you, I did sleep well and I'm trying my best <333

ily <3

#sorry for typos i wont proof read or i might take another hour to publish my answer #i'm not ok i love this so much #i love mattsun so much #godddddddd #moots <3 #kai !!#<3333333333333333333333333333333333333333 #asks

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sisterspooky1013 · 2 years ago

Text

Gaslight, Chapter 13/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

He knocks again, then stands back to wait. What the hell are they doing in there? he wonders, shifting the six pack of beer he brought to the other arm. Poker night is every Thursday—it’s not like they aren’t expecting him.

The night is cool and crisp, the clear indigo sky speckled with pinpricks of starlight. Trillions of miles traveled across the universe over thousands of years, just to be overpowered by skyscrapers and streetlights and the haze of the industrial revolution. He tips his face up and locates the Big Dipper, the North Star, Cassiopeia. It makes him at once feel insignificant—a speck on a rock in a pile in a quarry—and extraordinary. How many events throughout the history of time had to happen in precisely the way they did in order to bring him to this moment? It feels like destiny, which is both a comfort and a burden.

Finally, the door pops open and he’s greeted by a tall blond man with thick glasses.

“The party has arrived!” the man says jovially, standing aside to allow him entry. “Jeff’s here!” he hollers, and voices of the other two call out greetings from a nearby room.

“I’ve been standing out there for ten minutes,” Jeff chides gently. “I thought you’d kicked me out of the coven.”

They enter a small dining room with a circular table surrounded by four chairs, two of them occupied.

“We were out back smoking a cigar,” the blond man explains as he takes his seat. “Cuban, the real deal.”

“And you didn’t wait for me?” Jeff asks, exaggerating his level of offense as he sits in the remaining chair.

“Come on, man, we know Diana would have your balls if she smelled cigar smoke on you,” one of the other men says. He’s older than the other two, with wiry salt and pepper hair.

“You’re not wrong,” Jeff agrees, cracking open a bottle of beer. “Let’s get this show on the road; who’s dealing?”

The third man, mahogany-skinned and handsome, shuffles the cards artfully, making a show of bridges and cascades as he smirks to himself.

“Mike thinks he’s hot shit with his little card tricks,” the blond man says bitingly. “Just deal the things already, Mike. Jeff has a curfew.”

“Fuck off, Simon,” Mike shoots back. “I’m perfecting my craft.”

“Women are attracted to money, not junior high magic tricks,” Simon says, nudging the third man with his elbow.

“I like magic tricks,” the third man comments self-consciously, and the other three laugh.

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Mike says, shaking his head. “You always gotta be the weird one, don’t you, Frank?”

“Yeah, well, you won’t be laughing when I clean house,” Frank grumbles, and Mike finally deals out the deck.

Frank does, in fact, clean house. They don’t play with real money, just chips, but that doesn’t hamper each man’s desire to win, nor his disappointment when Frank scoops up the lion’s share of the pile and begins stacking them enthusiastically.

Simon checks his watch, then sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I gotta head out in a half hour or so,” he says. “Marcy didn’t want me to stay too late.”

“Well, I guess Jeff isn’t the only one with a curfew,” Mike teases, and Simon shakes his head with a smile.

“It’s not that, it’s just hard for her to get up with the baby at night right now, so I’ve been taking all that on.”

“Is she okay?” Jeff asks, his mind immediately going to the kinds of things that can cost you a sister.

“Yeah, she’s fine, just tired. She’s, uh—she’s pregnant again, actually,” Simon offers, and all the eyebrows at the table shoot up to their hairlines.

“No shit,” Frank says carefully. ��Is that good news or bad news?”

“Surprising news,” Simon says. “But ultimately good. We didn’t really plan to have two this close together, but I guess fate had other ideas.”

“Congratulations,” Jeff offers, extending his hand. “That’s great.”

“Can’t say I miss those days,” Frank remarks, still stacking his chips. “Up at 3:00 am trying to get a baby back to sleep when you have to be up for work at 6:00? No thank you. I’m glad mine are all grown.”

“Thanks, Frank, that’s really kind of you to say,” Simon says, rolling his eyes.

“I always miss my kids when they’re at Jenny’s,” Mike says sadly. “Being a dad is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Hey now, I love my kids,” Frank defends. “I’m just saying, waking up in the middle of the night fucking sucks.”

Jeff watches the exchange, unable to take part. He can relate to overbearing spouses and the perils of the working world, but he has nothing to offer on the subject of fatherhood.

“I actually need to head out too,” he says as he stands and retrieves what remains of his beer. “Wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to my balls.”

“Send our best to the warden,” Frank quips, earning him a warning look.

He leaves them, a peel of laughter fading as he pulls the door closed behind himself and makes his way to his car.

It does bother him a little, the way they talk about Diana. At the same time, what they say about her isn’t untrue. She is a little bit controlling, but not without due cause. He’s made mistakes in the past, ones he can never fully set right, and ones that justify Diana’s desire to know where he is and with whom. He promised her that he would do whatever it takes to make it up to her, and that has included checking in regularly and being home by midnight. Of course, his friends don’t know that, because he’s never told them. He’s too ashamed. So he accepts their cheap shots at his wife, and then drives home to her so he can prove again and again that she is the only one he wants to come home to.

He slinks into the house quietly, shushing Frenchie’s barks as he enters through the laundry room. He walks towards the back of the house to let her outside, and is startled by Diana’s voice as he passes through the kitchen.

“You’re late.”

He jumps a little, bringing his hand to his chest as he pulls the sliding glass door open and Frenchie slips out.

“Jesus, you scared me,” he admits, though that was fairly obvious by his reaction.

Diana is perched at the kitchen island wearing a silk nightgown, a glass of water on the counter before her. He looks at the time on the microwave display and then back to her pinched expression.

“By four minutes, Diana,” he defends, indignant.

She pulls in a deep breath, straightening her posture.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“At Frank’s, for poker night. Same as every Thursday. There was an accident on the turnpike,” he tells her, and his gut twists at the disbelieving look on her face. He steps closer, laying his hand over the top of hers on the countertop. “Diana—”

She pulls her hand out from under his and stands, walking to the sliding glass door to let Frenchie back in.

“I believe you, Jeff. But call next time, okay?” she says tersely, and he nods.

He lies awake in bed, and by Diana’s breathing, he can tell she is awake too. He feels guilty, but also angry that he feels guilty when he didn’t do anything wrong. He knows that he deserves this, knows he’s lying in a bed of his own making, but he still hates knowing that it will never go away. Six years later and she’s still watching him like a hawk. He thought it would get better over time, but it hasn’t.

And then there’s Simon and his new baby. He was surprised by the pang of jealousy that lit up in his chest upon hearing the news, a sensation he’s never experienced before. He’s always considered he and Diana to be childfree by choice, but looking back, he doesn’t really recall weighing in on that decision. Diana never wanted to be a mother, and he wanted to be with Diana, and so it was simply part of the deal. Now, at nearly 39 years old, he suddenly wonders if being a father would suit him.

“Did you always know that you didn’t want children?” he asks out loud, and Diana’s breathing pauses briefly.

“Where did that come from?” she questions.

“Marcy is pregnant again, and I was just thinking—”

A blustering sigh.

“Jeff, are we really going to do this right now?” she asks, annoyed.

“Do what?” he counters, equally irritated by her dismissiveness.

Diana rolls to her side to face him, propping her head up on a fist.

“Can you really see yourself giving up poker night, and sleeping in, and playing basketball on the weekend?” she asks, her tone shifting to something lighter.

“I mean…I don’t think I’d have to give up all those things. Not forever, anyway,” he says.

“Imagine walking into the office to find your rare book collection in tatters on the floor, covered in drool,” she teases, and he smiles.

“That would be less than ideal,” he agrees.

“Imagine having to stay quiet when we make love,” she continues, sliding her hand across his belly.

“I’m not even sure that’s possible,” he says, now grinning.

She hitches her leg up over his hip, straddling him, then peels the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her breasts.

“These are, and always will be, exclusively for you,” she says in a syrupy voice, then leans forward and brushes her lips over his. “Help me fall asleep, Jeff,” she whispers.

Her nightgown finds its way to the floor, as do his boxers. She sits astride him, grinding with her eyes locked on his. She’s possessive, maybe a little desperate, though he’s not sure why.

“That’s it,” she encourages him, her hands planted on his chest. Her eyes slide closed, her mouth falling open. “Yes, Fox,” she murmurs.

When she collapses against his chest he rubs wide circles over her back, and his mind instantly returns to its wandering state.

“What did you say about a fox?” he asks, and she stiffens.

“What?” she asks breathlessly, her face tucked against his neck.

“You said something about a fox, during—”

“I’m relatively certain I said ‘fuck.’ Sorry to offend your delicate senses,” she says somewhat defensively, rolling off of him.

He turns toward her, laying a reassuring hand on her bare hip.

“I’m not offended, Diana, I was just wondering—”

“Goodnight, Jeff. I have work in the morning, I need to get to sleep, if you don’t mind,” she says in a clipped tone.

“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Goodnight.”

He waits for her to turn her face towards his so he can kiss her goodnight, but she keeps her back to him. He presses his lips to the curve of her shoulder, lingering there as a confusing mix of emotions swirl around in his chest.

The life he has. The life he sometimes thinks he might want. The discrepancy between the two. He wonders why now, all of a sudden, he’s peeking over the fence at possibly greener grasses. Why the life he’s been content with for years suddenly doesn’t feel like enough.

The rush of the waves fills his ears, calming him. A gull calls out, its shriek carried away on the wind as his toes sink into the sun-warm sand. He spies a child further down the shore, a boy with dirty blond hair building something with a shovel and a bucket. There is a feeling of recognition, a sense of knowing, though he cannot recall the child’s name, nor their relationship to one another.

A strong wave pushes up beyond the waterline, sweeping across the child’s half-finished project and washing it into an indecipherable mound. The child’s shoulders slump, defeated, so he approaches and calls out to him.

“Oh, hey, buddy. That’s okay, you can build it again.”

He kneels down beside the boy and touches the child’s cheek, brushing an errant grain of sand from his downy skin. There’s something in the child’s eyes, something familiar that makes him feel a swell of affection and protectiveness.

“Just start again,” he tells the child, reassuringly.

He jolts awake, his heart racing. Frenchie stands from her bed on the floor, alerted by his sudden movement, and watches him for an indication of what’s next.

“It’s okay, Frenchie,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face.

The night is still in full swing, only inky darkness peeking in around the blinds. He looks over at Diana’s sleeping form, her back still turned to him and her breathing even. It feels like only minutes have passed since he fell asleep.

Wired from adrenaline, he stares at the ceiling and waits for the potential of sleep to return to him. His dream has mostly faded, and he grasps at snippets. The beach, he remembers the beach.

Just start again.

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files

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oracleofsecrets · 5 months ago

Text

Wip - fairy wings portion — (completed project here!)

First wing done. Buttonhole stitch was a meeeeessss most of the way through 😭 after doing the other wings I did cave and redo the worst of it

Much better on the first long wing. Bc I’m using mouliné floss I don’t love how the backstitch doesn’t lie very flat without pulling tight, which would then probably overstretch the organza

So for the large wing I did Holbein stitch instead, which kind of turned into semi-split Holbein, where I make sure I pierce through the previous thread when going up or down into a previous stitch. That seemed to make for a straighter line, too. Idk if it’s just this thread and fabric combo but doing regular backstitch makes the stitches seem a little wobbly even though I’m going through the exact same hole

A couple days later I finished stitching the wings For the second small wing I used I think a size 3 needle for at least the buttonhole edging, which turned out nice. Not very tenable though bc I can barely fit even a single strand of the mouline through the eye without that tail end frazzling quickly

Was p nervous about removing the stabilizer since this fabric is so delicate. No problems from the outside, but the inside was trickier. I did a bunch of stuff to try to make it come out easier than it did on the small wing up top in this pic…

I took a sewing needle and gently poked along the stitch lines just to get through the stabilizer but not the fabric. Then I used that needle near the edging to start a tear and switched to tweezers to carefully pull it away. But I also used cuticle / hangnail clippers to cut away along the inner stitching so that I wouldn’t be yanking on those. Took a bit, and I think there are still tiny bits of stabilizer stuck between the buttonhole but it’s not noticeable enough for me to care after working on this for like 5 hours straight today

I cut out the short wings but I’m so nervous that the organza is going to break off, so I painted the raw edges with clear nail polish lol. For the big wings, I put some fabric glue on the back side all along where I’ll be cutting so that hopefully that will keep the fabric from fraying once I cut it. I’m leaving that for tomorrow bc by that point it had been 6 hours of working on it and obvi the glue needs to set

After that it’ll be pompom cutting, shaping, and “dyeing” and then assembly :x

#wip #embroidery #real pepper crafting hours #it’s always so funny saying ‘oh all that’s left is a few more steps’ which each end up taking Way longer than expected…#before I tore away the stabilizer I was considering doing this again on a smaller scale to make lil fairy earrings but now I’m not so sure #I prolly wouldn’t bother with veins or anything just making a pretty cutaway #maybe cotton floss would be easier to work with. but then there’s no sparkle :/#hmmm hang on maybe I could crochet with some white sparkle crochet thread and use the mouline along the outside…

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milarqui · 2 years ago

Text

Scarlet Lady: Puppeteer

Directory | Animan

“So, who's stealing Miraculouses today, Manon?” Marinette asked. It was one more afternoon of taking care of Nadja's daughter, and Manon wanted to play Heroes and Akumas again.

“Um... Lady WiFi!” Manon said, picking the doll that represented Alya's Akuma form, before picking another two. “And Rogercop and Evillustrator!”

“And the heroes?”

Manon pointed at her favorite hero dolls.

“You be Marigold and Chat Noir!”

“You never pick Scarlet Lady, Manon,” she pointed out.

“But her doll is so lame,” Manon complained, picking Small Lady up.

Just like the real thing! Marinette thought, smirking. What better way to represent how much Scarlet Lady sucked than making her representation a painted paper bag with a glued ponytail? Well, she could have made it lamer, but there were limits to her talent.

She picked Small Lady and tossed her aside, while she began to prepare for the game.

“So, Hawkmoth, who controls the Akumas, wants the Miraculouses.”

“What for?” Manon asked, curious. And Marinette realized she actually didn't know.

“That's actually never been clear,” she muttered, before deciding on what to tell Manon. “Uh, because then the bad guys... WOULD WIN!”

It didn't look like she was too worried by the idea, though, as she grabbed Small WiFi and Rogersmall and gave the kind of smug grin only a pre-schooler could give.

“Yeah! Gimme your Miraculouses so the bad guys can win!” the girl declared.

You're a little too gung-ho about this! Marinette thought as she picked Chaton Noir and Minigold. She'd better keep her away from Hawkmoth, or they might end up with a tiny minion in the making.

----

A couple of hours later, someone showed her head through the open trapdoor, just as their game was reaching its end.

“Have you been good, Manon?” Nadja asked, and Manon angrily pointed at Marinette with her free hand.

“Mommy, Marinette didn't let me win!” she complained.

Snitch! Marinette thought. Nadja sighed.

“Oh boy,” she said; knowing Manon, this could get out of hand if not properly handled. When Manon approached her, she gently picked up the Marigold doll Marinette had crafted, and admired it for a second before turning to her daughter. “Get your things and give the doll back to Marinette.”

“NO!” Manon yelled. “I'M KEEPING HER!”

And before Nadja could react, Manon grabbed the doll and pulled hard – ripping it apart from the arm she had been holding.

She gasped.

“Oh, Manon, look what you've done,” Nadja chided her daughter. Manon needed to learn to control herself and grow up a bit. Marinette carefully picked the doll and the arm and promised to fix it before the next time she babysat Manon, and a now downcast little girl followed her mother.

Until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Mommy, I left my bag,” Manon said.

Just before she could reply, her phone rang.

“Be quick while I take this,” she replied, and Manon walked back to Marinette's room while she spoke with Alec.

----

While Marinette checked her supplies to see what would be best to affix the arm back into the doll, she heard a pair of small shoes coming up the stairs.

“Manon?” she asked, and the little girl picked up her backpack – it looked like she had forgot to get it earlier.

“Can I have Marigold?” Manon asked, morosely, but Marinette shook her head.

“Mommy said no, remember? And I have to fix her.”

“Pleeeease?”

“Ah! No! Fine!” Damnit, when she put up those puppy-dog eyes it was impossible to stop her! She picked the nearest doll she could get. “I'll lend you Lady WiFi!”

Manon smiled and grabbed the doll, before stuffing it in her backpack and running down the stairs.

“Thanks Marinette!” she said, and once Manon was out of sight Pollen began to give Marinette a look.

“What?” Marinette asked, but Pollen didn't answer. “What?!”

She felt like she was about to get blackmailed with chili peppers as the price...

----

“Geez, that took forever,” Chloé complained as she entered her room.

“It was nice of you to get your father to allow your class's work experience field trip to be at the hotel,” Tikki replied as she enjoyed a cookie.

“Of course, aren't I the nicest?”

Tikki could see it coming, so she began to munch just a bit faster as she eyed the last cookies in the dish.

“And seeing them all have to work for me will be hilarious, utterly hilarious!”

There it was.

“Hmm,” she mumbled, enjoying the deliciousness of both polishing the dish and getting one over her wielder. “Well, I'm glad you have so much free time now, Chloé.”

“Why's that?” Chloé asked in her usual uncaring tone.

“Because you need to go buy more Tom & Sabine cookies.”

“YOU ATE ALL OF THEM?!”

Ah, the taste of victory.

Tasted like cookies, of course.

----

“Sorry, Alec, I thought I left it on your desk,” Nadja apologized as she arrived to his office.

“No big deal!” At worst, it only delayed that part of the work for a few minutes.

Before they could continue, Nadja turned towards her daughter, who seemed to be playing with a doll.

“Manon! That's Marinette's doll! You took it even when I told you no!” Nadja said in her best authoritative (or 'mom') tone.

“Marinette wanted me to have it!” Manon replied, holding onto the doll as Nadja walked up to her.

“And I told you no! I'm taking this, I am not happy, young lady!”

“Mommy, nooo, please, give it back!”

Alright, this felt really awkward. He knew that Nadja loved that little girl like nothing else and that she had good reason to act this way, but little Manon's shrieks were really uncomfortable to listen to, particularly as Nadja returned, acting like nothing was wrong.

“Let's go, it shouldn't take long,” his fellow reporter said, as Manon continued shouting.

“I didn't steal it! I want it!”

He felt a strange gust flowing from behind him, but when he turned there was nothing.

----

He was quite surprised that his new Akuma was someone that hadn't even started going to school. This child was the youngest person he had ever akumatized! It would be a bit of a struggle to make sure she understood what to do.

“Puppeteer, I am Hawkmoth.”

“Oo, then, you're giving me powers?”

Just like that?

“Why, yes!”

“And I just gotta get you the Miraculouses?”

“Exactly!” This was certainly another record. Not even thirty seconds in, and his target was ready to act. “Geez, why can't all my Akumas be this informed?”

Maybe he should set up some kind of free seminar so people knew what they had to do when akumatized?

Nah, too much work.

----

Marinette and Alya ran into the Metro station, knowing that their train might pass at any time!

Fortunately, when they arrived to the platform, they saw that the next train was still four minutes away.

“Whew, we made it! So, movie or bookstore first?” Marinette asked as she checked her phone. Alya looked to a side and pointed away.

“How about that first?”

“What?” She turned to look in the direction Alya was pointing, and found someone she could easily recognize.

----

“Adrien!”

“AH!” Adrien yelped. His name being pronounced so suddenly made him fear he was about to be assaulted by (potentially deranged) fans, but to his relief it was Alya and Marinette.

“Yikes! I thought you were my fans!” he said, and the two girls made kawaii poses. Adrien wasn't certain if his heart was beating so hard from the shock or because of how cute Marinette looked.

“Only your best fans!” Alya declared.

----

She landed in front of the reception lady. She always said hi with a smile when she came with Mommy. Maybe she'd want to have fun?

“Wanna play with me?”

“Nope!”

She pouted as the lady ran away. Just like every other adult she found. None of them ever wanted to play with her!

So, she just went the same way Mommy did.

“Mommy took my doll, so it's probably in the studio,” she told M. Hawkmoth, who was listening to her.

“Excellent deduction, Puppeteer.”

“Shh, M. Hawkmoth,” she whispered. “Mommy can't catch us.”

“And why is that?”

“Cuz Mommy will get mad and I'll get in trouble!”

“You know you're an akuma, right?” M. Hawkmoth replied.

“Yeah, and she's still Mom! It's not worth it!”

----

Alya chuckled.

“You ran from your bodyguard?” she asked, shaking.

“I wanted to see a movie,” Adrien replied, shrugging a bit.

“Which one?” Marinette asked, smiling. Knowing what she did about Adrien, any opportunity for freedom was welcome. And, hey, Alya and here were already planning to go to the cinema! Adrien likely wanted to see a decent –

----

Puppeteer aimed her wand at the doll.

“Lady WiFi! Come to life!”

----

Suddenly, Alya began to shine with a blue light from her feet, and it went up her body.

“W-What's happen–!” Alya managed to let out before the light reached up to her face.

“ALYA!” Marinette shouted, horrified by whatever was happening to her friend –

“Marinette! Gimme the hero dolls!”

“Huh?”

Marinette blinked. Where Alya had been, now stood Lady WiFi, her Akuma, but there had been no butterfly, nor had Alya been angered for any reason. How had she been akumatized again?

“I want them, I want them, I want them!” Alya – Lady WiFi – shouted, sounding more like a toddler than someone her own age.

“But, why?!” Marinette asked, hoping to keep her distracted and that Chat Noir would arrive soon. Lady WiFi pouted and looked aside.

“Even though you said I could have them, Mommy said no, so you gimme them!”

Wait a –

“Manon?!”

Damnit, I shouldn't have let her keep the doll!

“It's Puppeteer!” Lady WiFi said, jumping. Marinette realized that Manon had likely been given the power to control people through dolls. “I'm gonna get all the Miraculouses and I'll be the strongest and win!”

“MANON CHAMACK! IF YOU DON'T STOP I'M CALLING YOUR MOM!”

----

Adrien carefully stepped out of the way, seeking a place to hide and transform. If this Akuma could transform people into their Akumas, he needed to act quick!

----

Chloé pushed the door open, and glared down at her bag.

“You better appreciate what I do for you.”

“Whatever,” Tikki replied, dismissively, before looking up. “Hey, what's that?”

Chloé looked up and saw something she definitely didn't expect.

“Wha–?! Lady WiFi?! What's she doing here!” she exclaimed, as she saw the Akuma enter through one of the windows at the top of the building she had just exited. “Breaking and entering again, she's trying to prove Dupain-Cheng is Scarlet Lady again!”

“You think so?” Tikki asked, disbelieving, but Chloé didn't care.

“I'll stop her!”

“So transform,” Tikki said as Chloé began to run.

“After I find the perfect spot! You don't expect me to hide behind trees or go into a dirty subway, do you?!”

Tikki rolled her eyes.

----

She wasn't shocked when Chat Noir showed up right in front of her, with his Cheshire grin and his pretty green eyes.

“We meet again, Purrincess,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he silently reminded her of her promise.

“I promise, it's not on purpose!” Marinette replied, waving a hand, and he got just a bit closer.

“What's this about dolls? You have one of yours truly?”

Oh, god, he was so adorkable she wanted to eat him! She blushed and tapped her kitty's nose with a finger.

“Omigod, just go before you become a puppet,” she said, and he nodded.

“Good point.” Chat Noir turned around and began to run up the stairs. “Stay safe!”

As he walked away, she realized something, even as Pollen came out of her bag.

“Now it's our turn, My Queen!” she exclaimed, but when Marinette didn't answer, Pollen became worried. “My Queen?”

Marinette brought her hands to her face.

“Chat Noir is going in my room!”

She had remembered a tad too late about the doll.

And the news.

And her computer screen background.

And the photo collage.

“Oh dear.”

----

Fortunately, it seemed like Marigold had heard of the Akuma and showed up at the top of the Dupain-Cheng's home very soon.

Unfortunately, so had Scar.

“Wow, color me shocked, Scarlet,” Marigold greeted the latter, who glared back.

“That's Scarlet Lady, newbee!”

As much as he'd like to rebuke Scar, time was of the essence.

“Let's go!” he said, jumping on his baton and retracting it so he could reach Marinette's bedroom – where he saw the controlled Lady WiFi with Marinette's bag and several dolls inside. “Puppeteer! It's not nice to steal from your babysitter!”

Scar landed next to him and began to twirl her yo-yo.

“Scarlet Lady's gonna give you a spank–”

CRUNCH

Looking down, Chat Noir saw a paper bag painted red with black polka dots and a glued-on yellow ponytail – and bit his lip to avoid laughing out loud.

“What is this?! Is this supposed to be me?!” Scar shrieked, and he barely held onto it.

“It's a spitting image,” he fired. Scar just leaned down, picked her bag – and ripped it apart.

“NO FAAAAIR! That's CHEATING!” the Puppeteer-ed Lady WiFi yelled, waving her arms and triggering several pause symbols around them. “Gimme your Miraculouses you bunch of super evil goodie two shoeses!”

“Give me your Akuma!” Marigold shouted, holding Lady WiFi off with her top, and he saw the opening. He was unable to pull the bag away, but he managed to reach out to its contents.

“I've got Chaton Noir!” he said, literally letting the cat out of the bag.

“Hey!” Lady WiFi yelled. Before they could do more, though, she barreled through them flying away with the bag and crying. “I'm telling on you!”

“Oh no, Minigold!” Marigold exclaimed, and he realized that he had seen the Marigold doll among those Lady WiFi had taken with her. “What are we gonna do?!”

“Just stay home,” Scar said, uncaring. “We've done this before.”

“But she got all the dolls, they'll outnumber you!”

“Don't worry, Goldie,” he said. “I know where to get backup. Best if you just sit this one out.”

Marigold pouted.

“Ughhh. I guess.”

----

This was the kind of moment he liked. No clients, no dealing with Akumas or Miraculouses. Just... time to relax. A song of his youth came to mind and he began to whistle, remembering happier times.

SLAM!

“MASTER, MARIGOLD'S BEEN TAKEN OUT, I NEED A MIRACULOUS!” Adrien shouted.

“AH!”

Relax time over.

----

Marinette grumbled.

“This sucks.”

“Chat Noir is right, My Queen,” Pollen said. “As long as you're not transformed, the doll will not affect you, since Hawkmoth and Puppeteer don't know your identity.”

There was that, at least.

“You'll just have to delegate to a temporary worker bee,” Pollen continued.

“Oh yeah, I wonder who Chat Noir will choose,” she pondered.

“MARINETTE, THIS IS THE MOUSE MIRACULOUS!”

“AH!”

Chat Noir seemed to have made his choice.

“You'll use this to defeat and return it to me!” Chat Noir declared, his eyes sparkling even as he huffed.

“M-Me?!”

Talk about ironic.

“The kwami's name is Mullo and your power is called 'Multitude, which splits you into tiny–”

“Whoa, slow down!” Marinette begged – while feeling Pollen's surprisingly piercing glare from behind her.

----

“There, she's still here,” Scarlet Lady said, pointing at Puppeteer in one screen. “I've sent my sidekicks to get more assistance, so just leave it to me.”

Alec thought the girl could do well as a comical villain in TV. She had the hamming up pat down.

“Thank you, Scarlet Lady, I knew I could rely on you.”

----

He grabbed Scar by the shoulder.

“Yo, Scar.”

“AHHHHHH–!”

He quickly covered her mouth with a hand.

“Shh, you wanna blow our cover?!” he chastised her, even as she tried to grumble out what he could guess were certain bad words.

“Wouldn't be the first time,” the transformed Marinette said. That was when Chloé realized she was there. “Oh, you can call me Multimouse.”

He pouted, even as Scar tried to shake him off.

“Aw, not Minimouse?” That name was pretty perfect.

“Pretty sure that's trademarked.”

----

Puppeteer was still angry that she didn't get all the dolls she wanted, and that bad Chat Noir had stolen the Chat Noir doll, but she had the same ones she had played with earlier!

“Evillustrator, Rogercop, Marigold! Come to life!” she exclaimed, and the dolls began to shine.

Well, only Evillustrator and Rogercop began to shine. Marigold's doll just stayed where it was, smiling and sitting.

And then it slumped.

Cheaters! They didn't let her win!

She jumped into Lady WiFi.

“WAAAH! IT DIDN'T WORK, MEANIES, MEANIES!”

The door was suddenly slammed open, and the three heroes entered – but one of them wasn't one she knew.

“You're cornered, Puppeteer!”

“Wha–?! Wait, who is that?!” she said, pointing at the new one.

“The Mighty Multimouse!”

“Pretty sure that's also trademarked,” Chat Noir said, but she didn't care. That was cheating! They couldn't bring someone new!

“No fair! You don't have a doll!” she cried out, huge tears dropping down her face. “Hawkmoth! They won't let me wiiiiin!”

“There, there,” Hawkmoth said. Felt like when Mommy's bald friend tried to comfort her.

----

“You didn't even bring the Chat Noir doll!” Puppeteer complained, and Multimouse chuckled.

“Well, that'd be pretty dumb, right?”

“I. Want. That. Doll!”

“Too bad~!” she sing-sang.

“And it's super hidden too!” Chat Noir added, grinning.

“Gimme your Miraculouses you super evil not pretty goodie two shoeses!”

“WHAT?!” Scar yelled. “I'll show you who's 'not pretty', brat! Lucky Charm!”

Hey, first time Scar's fighting someone with her maturity!

This time, the Lucky Charm was an extension cord.

“What do I do with this?!” Scar asked. He wondered if she had ever seen one of those.

“I'll take that,” Multimouse said, and quickly she began to swing the extension cord and the jump rope that acted as her weapon/tail, blocking and deflecting everything the transformed people (Lady WiFi, Rogercop, and Evillustrator) were throwing at her.

“Ha! Yah!” Multimouse yelled, smiling. “That all you got?!”

He barely paid attention to Lady WiFi as she struggled against his baton. He wanted to marry that girl!

“Wow,” he let out, as Multimouse stopped swinging both objects.

----

“Multitude!”

Turning from being one normal-sized Multimouse to a crowd of toy-sized Multimice was a bit of a shock, but she was able to quickly recover and began to swarm the enemy. She tackled Rogersmall and Small WiFi and Tinyllustrator, and the Akumas began to ragdoll (oh God, that was such a Chat Noir thing to say!) on the ground, along with the dolls.

“Wha–hey! Get off! Those are my dolls!” Puppeteer exclaimed.

“No, they're my dolls!” she replied, jumping on the Akuma's hand and biting it.

“OW!” the Akuma shouted, dropping her wand, which she quickly grabbed with her own help and ran away for Chat Noir.

“And now this is mine!” she chorused.

“NOOOOO!” Puppeteer yelled, but it was too late. Chat Noir destroyed the object, she returned to her normal-sized form, and Scarlet purified the butterfly and cast the Miraculous Cure. The three people that had been transformed came back to normal.

“What, how–?” Officer Raincomprix said, clearly being taken away while he was working.

“Where am I?” Nathaniel asked, a pencil on his notebook.

“Hey!” Alya shouted, bringing out her phone. “Who's that?! A new hero?!”

Chat Noir was looking at her, sparkling, and she realized there was a bit of a bad side to this: if he kept trying to get her Miraculouses to turn into provisional heroes, she wouldn't be able to act as Marigold anymore – so she knew what to do.

She began to take off her pendant.

“Here you go, Chat Noir,” she said, and gave him the pendant, feeling as her Multimouse costume faded away.

“No, wait not here!” Chat Noir shouted, but it was too late.

“Oops!” she added.

“Marinette?!” Alya shouted. She ignored her for a moment – she had to sell the 'mistake' so Chat Noir wouldn't come to her with a Miraculous again.

“Oh nooo, now I can't be Multimouse again, I'm so soooorry!”

She could feel Mullo grinning... while Chat Noir was crying as he held the pendant.

“Why,” he asked with a tiny voice, one that made her want to pet her kitten and make him purr, but she resisted the temptation.

Manon walked up to her, bouncing and sparkling, as if she had met her favorite hero.

“Woooooow, Marinette's a superhero!” the little girl said, so maybe she had met her favorite hero.

“I was, but we have to keep it a secret from Hawkmoth, okay?” she commanded, and Manon nodded.

“Okay, pinkie promise!” Manon replied, extending her finger – and Marinette hooked hers around it.

“That's my girl.”

Then Manon turned to everyone else in the room, little finger still extended.

“C'mon, everyone, pinkie promise!”

What.

“Wait, you don't have to–” she tried to interrupt, but Manon being what she was...

“PINKIE PROMISE!”

So everyone (even Scarlet) joined their pinkies, even if they felt awkward.

Save for Chat Noir, who was clearly laughing.

“I pinkie promise,” everyone said.

“Sorry.”

As Officer Roger left (taking Nathaniel with him) and Scarlet jumped out of the window, she felt an arm going around her shoulders.

“Giiiiirl.”

Oh, yeah.

“Alya,” she said in a knowing tone.

“Giiiiiiiiiiiiirl!”

She resigned herself to the unavoidable.

“I will give you an interview about Puppeteer, and an interview about Multimouse, but no interview about me being Multimouse.”

“Yay!”

Alright, that was enough. At least Alya understood that she really didn't want Hawkmoth to stake out her house!

----

Pollen glared at her Queen when she landed with her Cat on the balcony, still using that jerk Mullo's Miraculous.

“Guess this is goobye, ma Souris,” Chat Noir said.

“Sorry, Chaton,” her Queen replied, before finally detransforming – which meant that the jerk showed up.

“That was so much fun! You were a great mouse!”

“Oh, thank you Mullo!” her Queen said, and gave the jerk a hug – and the jerk actually smirked at her!

Oh, what she would give to be able to use Venom on the jerk!

Instead, as soon as Chat Noir took the jerk away, she snuck back into the room and sat on her Queen's bed, her back to the hatch.

“Pollen, I'm back!”

“Did you have fun as a mouse?” she asked, sullen.

“Huh?” The hatch was closed. “Waaait. Pollen, are you jealous?”

She chose not to answer, even as she kept buzzing. It was not fair! That jerk shouldn't be anywhere close to her Queen!

Who suddenly picked her up with her hands and brought her close.

“Oh, Pollen, you know you and the comb will always be my number 1!” she said, giving her a kiss.

… Well, alright, maybe she could forgive her Queen.

If she pampered her a bit more.

----

IT WASN'T FAIR!

SHE HAD ALREADY BEEN WITH PLAGG!

SHE WAS CARRYING POLLEN!

AND NOW SHE USED MULLO?!

WHY DID MARINETTE HAVE SO MANY MIRACULOUSES WHILE SHE WAS STILL STUCK WITH CHLOÉ BOURGEOIS?!?!?!

“You've been like that since I said Dupain-Cheng got another Miraculous! What is wrong with you?!”

“WAHHH!”

----

The next day, Nadja had once more arranged for her to babysit, and as always she brought Manon on time (she had learned her lesson from the cake incident, at least).

“Look, Marinette, Mommy gave me ears like Multimouse!” Manon said, showing her little buns that were, indeed, shaped like her hair in that form.

“Cute!” she said, smiling, even if she knew Manon's change was going to be short. I'm definitely not getting the Mouse again!

That way laid too many problems.

As Manon went on to jump onto her bed, she walked up to Nadja.

“Sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have lent it to her when you said no.”

“No big deal,” Nadja replied with a smile. “I know she can be very convincing with those puppy-dog eyes. You'll be immune eventually!”

She sure hoped so.

After Nadja said her goodbyes, Manon turned to her.

“I wanna play with Marigold and Chat Noir!”

“Actually, we're working on a special project,” she replied.

“Project?” Manon asked, curious. Marinette brought the girl to the table where she had already prepared the pieces for her newest doll.

“We're gonna make Multimouse!”

“Really?!”

You'd think she was told she could become Multimouse!

“She has to stay here because she's a secret, okay?” she said, poking Manon's cheek. “But she's just for Manon.”

“Just for me!” Manon cheered up – and turned to her with puppy-dog eyes. “Can we take her to the zoo?!”

“Oh, boy.”

What's the point of telling you it's got to be a secret if you want to take it to the zoo?!

----

Pixelator

@zoe-oneesama: if it weren't for the rules, maybe Marinette could have made a Hawkmoth doll and have Puppeteer turn on him?

@nobodyfamousposts: What would happen if Marinette made a Minigold doll like Littlebug and Chaton Noir?

Alright, so, that's Puppeteer out of the list... still 19 chapters from reaching the comic.

#scarlet lady the novel #scarlet lady #milarqui #fanfiction #long post #marinette dupain cheng #marigold #adrien agreste #chat noir #scarlet lady is better than canon #manon chamack #puppeteer

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zazter-den · 1 year ago

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i’ll say the same to you! i’m greedy and i’ll hear as much about your pretty catboy self ship (or pretty elezen boy) as you want to share with the f/o questions of your choice. ☺️

Ahh, thank you Bunny! Answering these with my dragongirl Warrior of Light, Ondata. Alongside G'raha Tia. Spoilers Ahead (mostly ARR& ShadowBringers)

nose kisses or forehead kisses? Ondata likes to give Raha forehead kisses, especially when he's worried or has spent too many hours poring over tomes.

neck kisses or thigh kisses? Raha often comes up behind Ondata while she's crafting, typically wrapping his arms around her waist before peppering her neck with kisses.

spooning or one person laying their head on the other’s chest? Overlap question! She, Raha, and Haurchefant all share the same bed so usually the ones on the end cuddle into whoever is in the middle (Usually Haurchefant since he's tall and runs warm)

hugs from behind or hugs from the front? Ondata usually flings herself into tackle hugs from the front, G'raha is a little more worried about disrupting and nuzzles from the back.

“pancake” or “waffle” hand-holding?

Waffle, in every selfship unless mittens are involved. Which sometimes happens on outings in the perpetually frozen Ishgard.

romantic dinners at fancy restaurants or take out dinners on the couch? I mean,,,regardless the man is going to look like a kid at christmas- and from the taste of fish-based Archon Loaf, I can't blame him. I'm dragging him to every restaurant I can find, but I think he falls a little for Haurchefant with that first cup of cocoa like us all

constantly bragging about dating each other or keeping the relationship relatively secretive? Ondata is extremely proud of her loves. Raha never flat out says they're together, but the way he talks about the Warrior of Light, other scholars are like "Oh, so they've been married forever I take it".

playing with each others’ hair or giving each other back massages? Raha is constantly losing pins to keep his hair out of his eyes, until Ondata starts making them herself to give to him. Raha braids Ondata's hair every day as part of their morning ritual, and she gets in a down mood if the routine is messed up.

constantly saying “i love you” or only say “i love you” during really serious/romantic moments? Between ARR and Heavensward, Ondata is hesitant to say 'I love you' to anyone. After the events of the Crystal Tower/ShadowBringers? Ondata says 'I love you' as often as possible. After Endwalker? She is fucking them anywhere that has even a semi shred of privacy.

constantly hanging off of each other or keeping a tame distance in public? Raha is more hesitant to show affection in public, but Ondata is usually pulling his hand through the crowds.

stay at home dates or out on the town dates? Adventures, just as promised.

formal/fancy wedding or casual wedding? Let's be real, Haurchefant/Ondata/G'raha want a small private ceremony- Which Tataru immediately vetoes. She would blackmail so many nobles into giving gifts and favors, look into your heart, you know this to be true. At least she will never complain about the coffers again. Maybe.

(spoiler heavy) love at first sight or slow burn? Both. Raha honestly had Ondata's heart at first infodump about the Crystal Tower and all the crystal based magicks of the Allagan Empire. She was certain they would spend the rest of their lives together, which is why she took him leaving her behind so fucking hard. And when they finally did reunite, originally they both thought they were too late. From day one, Ondata recognized G'raha but knew he had grown to be a completely different person over his time in the tower. It hurt, but she gave him space throughout all of ShadowBringers, not wanting to dredge up the past. G'raha wasn't much better, but how do you tell the love of your life that you watched their entire existence for clues to stop their tragic end? That you loved them still, before you decided to meet a light-bleached death in their stead? No, better to act the uncaring thief than to burden his dear hero with love that stood the test of centuries.

value anniversaries/important relationship dates or nah? any and every major date is a cause for celebration. but there's 3 other dates that are also unofficially observed: the day the crystal tower was sealed, the day that Hades tried to take him, and that day in Ultima Thule. Clearly not a joyous memorial, G'raha never really notices the dates themselves- but he does notice the way that Ondata clings to his back when they wake up hours past sunrise, how she will refuse to let him do anything remotely strenuous, or insists that she treat him to an adventurous date.

There is very little that the Warrior of Light needs- but the Crystal Exarch is at the top of the list, tied only by the Commander of the Silver Fuller.

kids or no kids? Kids. It was kind of an 'Oops' situation after Endwalker. I think defeating [redacted] depression and reuniting would put any previous Heats to shame. I also think that despite being world saving heroes, that they would be scared shitless but genuinely happy and excited. G'raha's eyes are passed down to some, but as a limbal ring, and all of Ondata's kids have at least some of her pearly scales. Given how powerful their parents are, toddler years are a warzone. It's a future Ondata didn't think was possible for herself, and she loves her big family.

Thanks again for letting me rant about my ffxiv char! Ask Game

#I have pages and pages written on my crystal polycule #G'raha Tia's pining is what got Jonathan Bailey his Anthony Bridgerton role- I will fight ne1 on this #zaz ask game #zaz answers #mdni #ffxiv oc #selfship: ondata x raha #zaz selfship

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lanabriggs · 15 days ago

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Business Communication Matters. Essential Tips for Beginners

Effective communication forms the backbone of every successful business interaction. Whether you’re writing an email, leading a meeting, or presenting to stakeholders, how you convey your message can determine your professional success. For beginners entering the business world, mastering communication skills early creates opportunities, builds credibility, and fosters stronger workplace relationships.

Understanding Your Audience.

The foundation of impactful business communication lies in recognizing who you’re addressing. A message crafted for executives differs significantly from one intended for technical teams or new clients. Consider what your audience needs to know, their level of expertise, and what action you want them to take.

Eric Hannelius, CEO of Pepper Pay, emphasizes this principle: “Great communicators don’t just share information — they shape it for their listeners. When you tailor your message to your audience’s perspective, you create real understanding.”

Clarity and Conciseness Win.

In business environments where time equals money, clear and concise communication stands out. Avoid jargon when simpler words suffice, structure your thoughts logically, and get to the point quickly. This applies equally to verbal and written exchanges.

For emails:

Use descriptive subject lines,

Open with your main point,

Break content into short paragraphs,

End with clear next steps.

For presentations:

Lead with key takeaways,

Support points with relevant data,

Use visuals to enhance understanding,

Allocate time for questions.

Active Listening Builds Connections.

Communication isn’t just about speaking or writing — listening with full attention demonstrates respect and helps you respond more effectively. Practice active listening by:

Maintaining eye contact,

Avoiding interruptions,

Asking clarifying questions,

Paraphrasing to confirm understanding.

“Many professionals focus on what they want to say next rather than truly hearing others,” notes Eric Hannelius. “The most valuable communicators know listening often reveals more than speaking.”

Nonverbal Communication Speaks Volumes.

Your body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice frequently convey more than your actual words. Beginners should be mindful of:

Posture (standing/sitting upright conveys confidence),

Hand gestures (natural movements emphasize points),

Vocal tone (varying pitch maintains engagement),

Professional appearance (dressing appropriately for context).

Mastering Difficult Conversations.

Handling conflicts or delivering bad news requires particular finesse. The “SBI” model helps structure challenging discussions:

Situation: Describe the specific context.

Behavior: Focus on observable actions.

Impact: Explain consequences of the behavior.

Eric Hannelius advises: “Approach tough conversations with facts, not emotions. When you remove personal judgments and focus on solutions, you maintain professionalism while addressing issues.”

Digital Communication Etiquette.

With remote work and virtual meetings becoming standard, digital communication skills prove essential:

For video calls: test technology beforehand, minimize distractions, and look at the camera.

For instant messaging: respect working hours, use proper grammar, and avoid overusing emojis.

For collaborative documents: use clear version control and commenting features.

Continuous Improvement Mindset.

Exceptional communicators constantly refine their skills. Seek feedback from colleagues, observe effective communicators in your organization, and consider professional development opportunities like:

Business writing courses.

Public speaking workshops.

Toastmasters meetings.

Executive communication coaching.

“Communication skills aren’t static — they evolve throughout your career,” Eric Hannelius observes. “The professionals who invest in improving their communication see compounding returns in their influence and opportunities.”

Putting It Into Practice.

Begin implementing these strategies with small, manageable steps:

Audit your current communication habits.

Identify one area for immediate improvement.

Practice the new technique in low-stakes situations.

Gradually incorporate additional skills.

Strong business communication separates competent professionals from exceptional ones. By developing these skills early in your career, you position yourself for advancement, build stronger professional relationships, and increase your organizational impact.

As Eric Hannelius summarizes: “In business, your ideas only have value if others can understand and act on them. Clear communication turns potential into results.”

For beginners ready to elevate their professional presence, focusing on communication creates immediate advantages that compound throughout your career. The effort you invest today will pay dividends for years to come.

#business #startup #finance #investing

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winnsauces · 3 months ago

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Easy Peasy Chinesey Made Simple with Winn Sauces

This may make the act of Chinese home cooking appear more intimidating. What seems overwhelming are the difficult and hard-to-find ingredients for Chinese cooking as well as how you would find time to experiment in balancing a series of complicated flavors. Now imagine me saying, "That could be made almost as simple as opening up a bottle of sauce and just dumping it in there." And I am going to introduce you to Winn Sauces.

Winn Foods range in Chinese Sauces and Schezwan Sauce simplifies making true, flavored dishes. It allows the bold infusion of your dish, stir-fry to noodle-based cuisines with this easy application to bring in authentic flavoring from Winn Sauces. So let's go a little further down on how the Winn Sauces will assist in preparing easy and deliciously ready-to-prepare Chinese food at a lightning pace.

Why Winn Sauces Become Your Easy Way to Enjoy Your Peasy Chinese Dishes

If you love the taste of Chinese food but still find it complicated to master in your kitchen, Winn Sauces are your life hack. From the guesswork out of preparing dishes, authentic flavors can easily be enjoyed hassle-free. So, here is how these sauces can help in cooking up a storm with a minimal amount of effort:

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Versatility: From sweet to spicy, Winn Sauces work well with any ingredient, thus perfect for any dish. You can use it in noodles, stir-fries, dipping sauces, and more.

Getting Creative with Winn Sauces: Tasty Recipes to Try

Now that you know just how easy it is to make scrumptious Chinese meals using Winn Sauces, here are some super simple yet very flavorful recipes that'll leave you feeling like a pro in the kitchen:

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3. Chutney-Glazed Chicken: Want to get a little out of the ordinary? Use Winn Chutney as a glaze on chicken. Any one of Winn Foods' chutneys would do: mango tangy or tamarind spicy. Marinate your chicken in the chutney of your choice and then grill or pan-fry. The chutney balances perfectly the sweetness with the tang and is a real crowd-pleaser.

4. Stir-fried vegetables in Soy Sauce: Just stir-fry your favorite selection of veggies including bell peppers, broccoli, carrots, and mushrooms in a scorching hot pan, bring out the umami taste, and just top it with some Winn Chinese Soy Sauce; however, add just a bit more drama with that spoonful of Winn Schezwan Sauce with its spiky taste. This can be served as a side dish or toss it with noodles to make it a complete meal. This is one of those recipes that's easy peasy chinesey.

Why Choose Winn Sauces for Your Chinese Cooking

So, you find many sauces on the market and might wonder why Winn Sauces should be used in your Chinese cooking. Well, here is why they are so special:

For Authenticity: Winn Foods has been manufacturing Chinese Sauces for decades with time-tested recipes and authentic ingredients. You can count on Winn Sauces when cooking a traditional stir-fry or trying out new flavors of Chinese cooking.

Quality You Can Trust: Winn Foods is known for its commitment to quality. Its sauces are prepared with the finest ingredients, and every meal made with them will be not only delicious but of high quality as well.

Simple and Easy to Use: It lets you have complicated yet flavorful dishes without all the prep work. With only a few ingredients and a splash of sauce, you can come up with an incredible meal that would do justice to your favorite restaurant's taste.

Bring the Taste of China Home with Winn Foods

Winn Sauces has made it easy peasy chinesey to make such dishes at home. Whether you are craving a spicy, flavorful noodle dish or a sweet and tangy chicken glaze, Winn Foods has all the sauces you need to make your meals sing with authentic Chinese flavors.

So next time you're in the mood for Chinese food, skip the takeout and bring the restaurant experience to your own kitchen. With Winn Sauces, you’ll be able to create delicious, hassle-free meals in no time. All it takes is a few ingredients, some Winn Sauces, and a little love for cooking to turn your kitchen into your favorite Chinese restaurant.

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#foodie #chinese sauces #food #foodblogger #Winn Foods #Winn Sauces #Chinese Sauces #Easy Peasy Chinesey #Recipes chutney #Schezwan sauce

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