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cockasinthebird · 3 years

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It was awkward at first, which isn’t much of a surprise to Steve. This is a whole new world for him- how would he ever even go about dating or flirting with guys, least of all Billy Hargrove. Girls he understood, flowers and chocolate and driving them to the mall and carrying their shopping bags, classic textbook stuff that he’s actually quite good at if he had to say so himself.

Hi was all he managed to write to Billy.

Hey ;) was the response.

Nerve wracking, dizzying, nauseating. It left him a mess for that entire weekend, making him incapable of ever even responding to any of his other matches on the apps, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove. Yet he also didn’t know where to go from there, and when Billy didn’t see it fit to send him a second message, it just died out right then and there.

But there was no relief, no Oh thank God that he wouldn’t have to even try and find out what it’s like with Billy- what sex is like with Billy. Yet the thought of it stayed. Every night, morning, day. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all ruined by a crown of golden curls, broad shoulders, his musky stench, that ugly tattoo… It doesn’t make any sense to him still, but now whenever he thinks about how firm and strong Billy was, bumping up against him on the court, the way he almost admired Steve in the showers right before calling him a pretty boy, and his voice when he said it… it’s all too vivid now. Whenever there was a moment for it, his idle hands would slowly find their way past the border of his briefs, but after only a few strokes of his half chub he’d pull back with a loud and exasperated sigh.

Come Monday morning and he’s sitting in his car, hands gripping too tight around the steering wheel, students flocking to the front doors of Hawkins High. Yet somehow through the mess of reluctant teens, Steve still manages to spot Billy without even really thinking about it, like a gorgeous needle in a hormonal haystack, jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, the fabric around his thighs looking about ready to tear-

Steve shuts his eyes, squeezing till it becomes uncomfortable in an attempt to forget that he knows what Billy looks like naked; how freckles dust across his features everywhere, how smooth he is, how he’s oh so perfectly waxed-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit.” Of all things that could have happened, Steve sporting a boner at school wasn’t rare but definitely the worst. Especially given the subject of his all too sudden desires.

He had never cared to think twice about Billy when he wasn’t around, and now he’s the only thing on his mind. He can’t go in there like this, can’t face him like this, Steve’s body is too sensitive to even the slightest hint of Billy apparently.

And he’s not going to jerk off in his car, that’s just… sad.

The fact that he makes it all the way home without a single speeding ticket is just dumb, lazy luck, and that he makes it to his bedroom before jerking off for the second time today is just impressive. At least he can still show some self restraint.

But only a little.

For when he’s done and ashamed of it all, he sluggishly drags his feet toward the shower, where as soon as the hot water hits his skin, he’s reminded of the locker room at school. And he’s reminded of all the times he has caught Billy stealing glances, only for those crystal blues to flee once they’ve been caught, maybe spit out a little toxic comment that’s barely heard in passing.

As he now looks down at his fully hard dick once more, yearning to a certain someone’s attention here in the nude, Steve closes his eyes only to be met by the prideful, girthy cock that even when flaccid Billy struts around with like he’s the king.

His lips pursed around a cigarette. His hands as they grasp the ball at practice. His fingers so nimble whenever he plays with a pencil in class. His smile that he flashes to all the girls. His tongue out to swipe as he grins at Steve.

“Fuck, ah-” he bites into his one hand as he cums into the other, white clashing with the pink of the bathroom tiles. And another, “Fuck!” as he slams the side of his fist against the wall of the shower.

Barely an hour passes before he’s hard and ready again, lying on the couch with old reruns of whatever on the tv, his eyes glued to the pics Billy has posted everywhere for his own conceited ego’s sake, and the hundreds of likes and comments he gets, of course.

But it’s hard not to like what you see, when you’re faced with self-confidence like this, and well earned at that considering his Adonis looks and frequent exercise routine. It wouldn’t shock Steve if he found out that Billy could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Actually it thrills him far too much to even consider, as he watches a video on instagram of Billy benching far more than what Steve weighs, and all the blood rushes into his already eager erection at such a speed he gets a little dizzy.

He almost misses the doorbell ringing in his intense, almost stalker-y field of view, and who the fuck even rings anyone’s door at almost 1pm on a Monday. A sigh and rubbing his eyes prepares him for the inevitable greeting of either mormons or jehovah's witnesses, or maybe he’s lucky to meet a travelling salesman who’s got a cure for crushing on people way outside your league.

The bell rings several times as he walks up to the door, and even after opening it up to the warm summer weather, it takes Steve several long seconds before he realises who’s standing there, toothy grin and denim clad with an arm up on the doorframe.

It hits him like a bullet to the heart, the shock of finding billy Hargrove here, in front of Steve who’s barely dressed and-

Billy’s eyes hone in on the obvious tenting of Steve’s green boxers, and that grin spreads into the widest, flashiest smile that Steve has ever possibly seen.

“Is that for me?” he drawls out, lustful and daring.

And it sets the poor trust fund kid aflame, his heart pumping so fast and hard he feels it pulsate in his dick. The blood rushing away from his brain must be making him dumb, because the only seemingly obvious reaction Steve can sort out is reaching for Billy and kissing that smug look from his face.

It doesn’t take Billy long to get in on it; he pushes his way through the door and closes it behind him, strips clean of his denim jacket before tugging off Steve’s shirt. It all happens so fast he can’t even follow, the taste of Billy’s spit and the feel of his teeth biting disorients him to a point where he can barely answer the question,

“Where’s your bedroom?”

With, “Upstairs and to the left.”

Suddenly they’re on his bed, the memory of them stumbling up the stairs as they undressed distant and nearly gone, as the throbbing of his cock has never felt louder than in this moment.

Of all the girls he’s been with, being with a man is… different. He’s nervous, almost nauseous with it, yet has never been more excited, turned on, or harder in his entire life. Hands are everywhere but where he desires them as they push him into the covers, smoothly runs up and down his chest and abs then all the way up to cup his jaw. His face feels wet with kisses and how eagerly Billy licks his lips to taste everything.

It’s a rushed mess yet it doesn’t go fast enough.

“Touch me,” he whispers without thought as he tries to keep up with Billy’s pacing.

“Yeah? Want me to touch you, pretty boy? Touch your hard, long cock?” Billy’s tone almost cruel and rough at the seams, his hands going down to grip Steve’s hips with near brutish strength.

“God yes,” Steve moans at the slight pain, “I want you to touch me so fucking bad- jerk me off, please.”

“Please?” Billy barks out a laugh at that, “Those bitches you fuck into all that nicety? Please and thank yous.”

“They love it,” Steve says with confidence that can only come from personal experience.

But it only makes Billy laugh more as he pulls away. He sits up on his knees, cock hard and thick where it stands at attention between his muscular thighs. “That won’t work with me, princess. Don’t gotta ask like a good guy for me to fuck you, just say it and I’m here.”

“How easy of you,” the words are out before Steve even thinks about it. The rivalry they have is still new and fresh, it can barely be helped, and for a moment he fears that he has ruined the moment.

Yet Billy doesn’t move away. He slowly licks along the arch of his upper lip, something deep and primal in the way he stares, and a hand runs through his golden locks to push them away from his irritatingly handsome face.

“Look who’s talking.”

In a rush that seems natural to Billy, he flips Steve onto his side before laying down behind him and pressing the head of his wet dick against the crevice of Steve’s thighs.

“Wait!” Steve almost shouts as the churning of his stomach makes him sick with worry about the more technical functions of… this.

“Don’t worry baby,” Billy’s voice all of a sudden like silk, a range so odd and unfamiliar compared to his normal boisterous attitude, “I’m not gonna pop your cherry the first time we do this. You got me too excited for that, don’t wanna wait while I prep you like you deserve,” he whispers against the shell of Steve’s ear, and it eases every single worry he had.

“Oh…” The pent up nerves in his stomach vanishes, like a knot coming undone, every single muscle in his body relaxes into the sheets.

Well, almost every single muscle.

“Yeah, oh,” Billy chuckles and rubs his nose against the back of Steve’s neck, kissing his back. “I can be a nice guy, too. You don’t gotta worry bout a thing, just let me take care of you.”

Today has been… a long, confusing mess. From the boner he woke up with after dreams of Billy, to the one in his car, the one in his shower, the one on the couch, to the way Billy so rudely shoved his way into Steve’s personal space, up the stairs, onto the bed. Rude and hectic from their first kiss till now. Now he’s… nice? Steve feels a fool for falling for it, but at least he’s aware as he lets down his guard and allows for Billy to… do whatever he pleases.

Is this how girls feel whenever a hot guy is nice to them? Whenever Steve is nice to them? Doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

So he nods and hums a light agreement.

“Good,” Billy hums, too, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl in the best way possible; the shivers down his spine almost delightful as they go straight to his dick.

And when Billy gently pushes his heated flesh in between Steve’s thighs, the wet pre lubing up the skin perfectly, it’s weird and foreign, but also impossibly erotic and thrilling, and suddenly all Steve can think about is how Billy’s cock would feel inside of him.

It’s no lie that that’s something he’s thought about before - not necessarily with Billy mind you, just in general when sliding into a soaking wet pussy, he’d often get almost lost in thought about what that feels like, and if this is any indicator of it, he’s even more eager for it now.

So eager he can’t help the long, breathy moan that escapes him as Billy moves into his embrace till they’re lying flush together.

“That good huh?” Billy whispers from behind, and Steve can only imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rather than responding he moves, closing his legs tighter and grinding back against Billy, as to test his own boundaries with all of this - which has been something of a win, considering he really went from his first kiss with a guy to this within ten minutes or so. And the way Billy groans all pleasant and pushes harder into their meeting of skin jolts through Steve’s cock like a bolt of lightning making him spurt out pre.

“Yeah, keep your legs just like that,” Billy speaks uncharacteristically soft as he moves one hand down, his burning hot palm smoothly moving over a thigh and staying there for leverage, as he starts rocking back and forth. In and out.

Steve’s breath stutters and he can’t help but put a hand over his mouth. It’s not uncommon for him to be overly vocal and enthusiastic during sex, but this felt… almost embarassing, the kind of blithe and soft coos and moans rather than deep, throaty groans making his cheeks red.

“Don’t do that.” Billy moves his hand up to grab Steve’s and intertwines their fingers. “I wanna hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”

His cock throbs with urgent need at those words. Such a deep, baritone voice that excites Steve to a fever pitch, his body burning up where sweat gathers down his back between them. It’s gross and stimulating all at once, as Billy thrusts between his wet thighs and holds him close, he feels like a virgin again.

And maybe that’s why Billy is treating him so kindly. Not that he disagreed with the fervor earlier, how crude it was to be manhandled like that, but this? This gentle rocking of their bodies as they together find harmy in the rhythm, it’s intoxicating. Steve barely even notices when his own hand sneaks down to wrap around his hard length, so lost in the moment he can’t think straight, can’t stop the sighs and moans that spill from his body as he melts into Billy’s embrace.

“That’s it,” Billy speaks softly like summer rain, “God you’re so fucking hot. Can’t tell you how long I’ve admired you in secret, thought about every single mole and freckle as I jerked off at home. This is all I’ve wanted for so long, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on the app.”

Steve wants to respond, wants to say something like, “How do you think I felt when we matched,” but his mind is a fog of euphoria, barely able to even hear what’s being so dearly and honestly said as he can’t focus on anything other than the slickness of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his balls, nudging him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Your thighs are so nice and soft, clenching around me just right, arh, you feel so fucking good, princess.”

When Billy speeds up, Steve naturally follows along.

“I’m so close.”

Steve, too. The pent up feeling that’s been quickly building to an unbearable pressure point is becoming too much, hot and ecstatic like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Wanna cum between your legs so bad, baby.”

“Ah- please,” Steve finally finds words and it comes out like a pathetically needy little whine.

He wants to wait- wants them to cum together like he’s seen on porn as fake as that might be, but it’s a sudden and rampant thing, blinding him with fireworks behind his screwed shut eyes. A feeling that can’t possibly be expressed in any other way than a loud, prolonged, almost shocked moan, as he cums into his own hand that he jerks with ardent intensity.

Whilst not simultaneous, Billy is not far behind; urged on by Steve’s alluring keening he sped up his thrusting and grinding like he’s in a race for the finish line himself. And it would be kinda humorous if it wasn’t so hot how hard he slams into the gathering of warm, soaked flesh. Oh how he pounds into Steve with all his sweaty might, grunting and groaning till he cums with a loud and lustful moan, his hand still holding on to Steve’s with a near crushing passion to it.

And then there’s silence, as they breathe out together, muscles relaxing, dicks flaccid and sticky with cum. It’s warm and nice and cozy, but it’s hard to enjoy for Steve.

Is Billy actually this nice, or was it just a play to get off? Did he do to Steve what he does to every other bitch that he gets with? What now? What’s next? Are they gonna be a thing or just friends with benefits? Wait, are they even friends? Fuck buddies maybe? All the thoughts that he didn’t have time to be anxious about before comes rushing in fresh and clear in a post-climax-clarity moment, and it stirs the pit in his stomach alive again.

When Billy squeezes his hand gently, and asks, “What are you thinking about?” whilst nuzzling into the nape of Steve’s neck, kissing him lazily as if almost asleep.

It… helps. The thoughts aren’t gone per say but they’re in the distance now, and all it took was a simple question- a sign of caring.

Steve turns around in bed to look at Billy’s drowsy expression, before answering, “Thinking about taking a shower. You wanna come with?”

Billy’s nose furrows and wrinkles as he peeks out past ruffled curls. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer?”

It makes Steve’s heart beat different.

“Sure.”

#Harringrove #my writing #lemon

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walkuntilthedaylight · 3 years

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The people have spoken! How can I not give them what they want?

I'm gonna put this all under a cut, since it's a bit long, and also because it's highly interpretative/speculative and not everyone likes those kinds of posts as they can be rather subjective and, I suppose, invasive. I want to give two major caveats to my thoughts below: first is that I tend not to buy the idea that Paul was the "stable/normal" Beatle, mostly b/c I view marijuana dependency and workaholism as addictions and I take them pretty seriously. Second is that I really do love this kind of tabloid/gossip/personal account shit; I think it should be taken with a handful of salt, but I don't think it should be entirely dismissed out of hand either. I read this stuff like I'm piling up sheets of stained glass: I'm intrigued by the places where the colours blend and overlap, and ignore things that fall outside the prism. Anyway, let's dig in:

Okay, so what I found fascinating about 'Body Count' is that it's one of the only sources which observes Paul McCartney's mental health during the period between the India trip and when the band breakup really got rolling. I think it's overall a fairly self-absorbed text that definitely has some lies and exaggerations peppered in there to make things spicier and more dramatic, but its broad characterization - as I mentioned in my first post - isn't exactly libelous or out of left field. Some elements that make me think it's generally if not wholly authentic are: Paul's simultaneously forceful and dorky seduction style, his terrible Liverpool diet and poor housekeeping, the bouts of thrill-seeking recklessness, avoidant adventure crafting, dark moods when drinking non-socially, the occasional hot and cold bouts with the Apple Scuffs camped out at his gate, and the way in which he underplays his drug habit, which is SO "in truthfulness we spent most of the filming of Help! slightly stoned":

These details are so bizarrely specific and have significant overlap with both sympathetic and spurned personal accounts of Paul I've read in the past, so I believe Francie is just telling "Her Version Of The Truth" here rather than crafting a piece of pure fiction. The most important and revealing anecdote in the book is this one.

There's no reason not to believe this is a fairly accurate representation of something that actually happened, imo, since we know that anxious purse strings were an ongoing issue in the unusual turnover rate within the band Wings, and there are plenty of confirmed and rumoured cases alike of extended family members feeling entitled to a "piece of the pie"; this is just like, the kind of thing that happens to working class people who get catapulted into fame and fortune. And Paul in particular already had deep-seated financial anxiety for whatever reasons he'll never fully admit (as is his right, but I think his offhand claim that he "once heard some adults arguing about money and that's why" might actually be alluding to having heard some adults - y'know, like his parents - arguing over money fairly frequently). What esp interests me about the anecdote is the way Paul seems to connect the conflict b/t his dual "identities" with these financial expectations. Perhaps the CAPSLOCK emotional hysteria related in the book is puffed up for drama, but it does bring to mind one of the most revealing comments Linda ever made about their relationship, which is that Paul needed to be told he would still be loved when the cameras weren't rolling. And that's the thing: Francie caught Paul at the exact moment that the pillars of his Smile-For-The-Camera "Beatle" identity were collapsing; the dissolution of his relationships with John and Jane.

Whatever all this could possibly mean re: the breakup of the Lennon-McCartney partnership is a post for another time. What I wanna do instead is apply the level of speculation we usually reserve for that relationship to the endpoint of Paul and Jane's courtship.

So like, Paul and Jane: I know people are resistant to this specific POV, but I honestly just don't... think it was that deep? "Not deep", mind you, doesn't mean "not significant". Paul was obviously Jane's first love (u never forget), but the feeling I get from Paul's side (as a subconscious process I mean) is that Jane's importance was primarily as a lynchpin in his London Socialite persona. He loved her family, he loved the friend group, the artistic scene dating her gave him access to, as well as the leg up he got in the class system, etc. He liked to be the kind of guy who was dating Jane Asher. But I don't know that he was the guy who was dating Jane Asher, you get me? When people describe their "great love" they accidentally tell on them (Cynthia innocently describing Paul as being pleased to have her on his arm like a trophy; John: "it was an ordinary love scene"; Alistair Taylor noting that Paul was humiliated by the breakup). Paul's a serial monogamist who U-Hauls like a lesbian, of course, so he definitely took the relationship VERY seriously, but it's telling that all of his love songs to her were either about hitting a brick wall in arguments (certainly not dreamy, fond, yearning of "sunday morning fights about saturday night"; and occasionally expressing hints of class tension too), or completely non-descript Guy With A Guitar Trying To Get Laid shit. I could extrapolate a lot about Linda just from listening to McCartney I/RAM and the Wings discography, but 'And I Love Her' doesn't tell me a single thing about Jane besides that she's pretty. It could be about literally anyone the same way 'My Love' or 'Maybe I'm Amazed' could only be about his dynamic with Linda. Some of this is obviously the natural result of getting older and gaining emotional maturity; what I'm saying is that Paul's behaviour and self-expression in this relationship does not suggest to me that it was one in which his emotional maturity was able to develop or flourish.

I want to stress again that I don't think this belittles the significance of the relationship or makes it "bad" or "fake". Like, sometimes hot people just date for a while in their teens and twenties and love each other without necessarily unlocking their inner emotional cores, usually because they don't know how to. It's, like, fine. You need to experience relationships like that as stepping stones. I simply believe that this sort of front-facing social importance being prime in the romance is a major factor in why it ultimately didn't work (and probably in Linda's reported lingering jealousy of Jane, who wasn't just an ex, but also a symbol of the life Paul ditched to build a new identity w/ her, and sometimes still pined for). With Jane, Paul was dating the "right" kind of girl (didn't put out on the first date, erudite and middle class, as serious about her career as he was, a good "celebrity" match), but the relationship often wasn't doing what he wanted it to do. Francie's observation is that by 1968 it also wasn't doing what he needed it to do either. This is the overwhelming "mood" in her affair with Paul McCartney: that he needed something very badly from a romantic partner that he just was NOT getting, and Francie couldn't figure out what it was either:

(note that she means "queer" as in "mad", not "gay")

This was an EXTREMELY roundabout way of asking: well, what WAS it that Paul needed a relationship to do for him? And I think this is Francie's big, accidental insight. The most scandalous claim in 'Body Count' is that Paul told Francie that he hit Jane and it "turned her on".

I personally think this is p. absurd absent any real proof to back it up, but like, what is Francie actually saying HE'S saying here? If she's exaggerating or lying, she's trying to make it believable within the psychological parameters laid out, right? It's not an expression of some secret desire to dominate women she's accusing him of, but emotional disturbance and confusion at the idea that the woman he was with might like that sort of forceful, masculine violence more than his softer, feminine side, which he was - yeah, we all know it - deeply insecure about.

Regardless of whether specific details are true or false (and I think there's both in this story, all hyper-magnified to make it, y'know, a ~STORY~), I think what might be true is the emotional undertow of the retelling, that this all taken together is actually representative of the side of Paul McCartney she was exposed to, at a time when his public and private facades had both become unbearable to the point of cracking and the drug-fueled optimism of the Summer of Love was getting scrubbed off of everyone and everything. It's the Paul McCartney who eviscerated frogs because he was worried he was too "soft" for compulsory military service. The Paul who modelled his masculine teen behaviour off John Lennon's fake "Marlon Brando" swagger, but was actually more fond of the velvet "Oscar Wilde" interior.

What's SO FASCINATING about all this to me, is I deeply believe that one of the key factors in what makes The Beatles music so unique and compelling is that both the songwriters experienced psychological strain from the tension b/t their parochial socially-defensive "masculine" pride, and their sensitive "feminine" core, the latter of which they were able to express in the unburdened emotionality of their music. The reason I care about doing these totally unhinged psych analyses is because I do think it reveals something about the underpinnings of the music, as well as the reasons why the band was such a hysteria-inducing phenomenon (the rise of psychology, imo, is almost as important as the rise of industrialization as a defining factor of the modern and postmodern eras; mass psychology can be understood and wielded in precise ways, and The Beatles were one of the first empires built on that). The subconscious drives caused by this tension have been ENDLESSLY picked apart re: John's psyche, but Paul's "mirrored" issues are very under-discussed (mostly b/c he's still alive so people are a little more leery about putting him on the "couch" as a historical figure). 'Body Count', intentionally or not, painted a portrait to me of someone who was drowning in their own ill-fitting celebrity "suit", collapsing under the weight of "Being" "Paul McCartney". A guy who desperately needed some sort of space to be vulnerable without feeling emasculated for doing it. By 1968, there was no one in his life anymore - and maybe there hadn't been for a while, or ever - who was giving him this space.

In other words: the thing he needed to avoid going "stark raving queer and killing himself" was simply someone who would love him 'after the ball'.

EDIT: read the comments for further clarification and discussion! ;)

#/#//#///#////#/////#the beatles #mccharmley #analysis #long post #Talking About Paul The Way I Talk About John lmfao #Taking Tabloid Bullshit Seriously #(if not literally)#*gets out my fake spectacles and jumps into the psychiatry armchair*#idk if i laid out my thoughts v well here but i hope it satisfied all the people who asked #i also tried to warn what genre of post it was for those who hate this kinda thing lol #i feel like i have more to say re: how toxic 'The Beatle' facade got for all of them by this point #and paul and john's mirrored post-india breakdowns #but francie's perspective is specifically on how it felt to be the girl he used to divebomb his relationship with jane asher SO

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arabella111 · 3 years

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arabella,

im so unmotivated to manifest anything , i bave been 'trying' or mkstly over consuming info since may but i cant seem to sit my ass doen snd do the work..mostly bc every now an then i always have a problem that worries me firstly it was the sc thingy like how do wr manifest our desires with it? like what do i think of them? do i just affirm normally my sc affd and when i think of my desire affirm sc? which thats what i understood but its that when i think of my desire an undesired image pops up for example ill manifest hairless body but i think of it the way it is now yk? so is that ok? like can i just continue affirming normally the way i would for the desire specifically for example i think of this undesired image and just affirm the sc affs instead?

second, just the other anons i have guilt abt manifesting a lot of stuff and beauty ESPECIALLY bc if i start getting compliments after manifesting it will make me wonder was i that ugly that i didnt get compliments and i do now that i kinda changed my face ? and like i rlly wanna be naturally pretty without any need for manifestation.. and when i was younger i did get compliments but it might have been bc i was a kid but even if i was pretty i want to be like pretty pretty not just pretty yk? and now that i want to change myself is like admitting to myself that yeah ur not all that..

and u have answered bfr to other anons that they changrd their assumption thats why which yes it made me feel so much better bc its my assumptions not my fault but what if i was getting the compliments was bc i was a kid ? bc personally i dont think i was that pretty like more like average beauty and i still have this that next to others i look like im just there yk? and i dont want to be like that naturally.. and even if i am pretty why do ppl not find me attractive and some of my friends dont suplort me at some stuff considering beauty and i have wasted this insecurity trauma for nothing like i gained another trauma for no reason yk?://.. dont get my wrong i still get compliments but they are like from my mom/relatives and one friend.. and no guys and other ppl and literally anyone i

and then the other problem was that i felt disconected from reality for abt 4 years bc of depression and i was waiting for an outer source to kinda wake me up , like i felt that i was sleeping yhe whole time even ppl would tell me to wake up bc i was rhat disconnected..

and another one was that bc of my depression i didnt do shit , i wasnt talking, didnt find any interests and before that when i was young i had a life and all that and through all this depressiom process i lost myself and dont know what i like anymore and i feel like i have lost most of my teen years for nothing ( since 13 till 16 ( now ) )

i hope u understood something and it wasnf that long and tiring for u to read, bc im not that good at explaing stuff, i just want to get rid of these problems and finally do my work bc i am EXCAUSTEDDD

and thank u for the time :)

see baby, first you need to work on your sc, just assume and think you get your manifestations the moment you want them. that's it. you don't have to overcomplicate shit. your negative thoughts are not powerful enough to ruin your manifestations. you're god and you make your own rules, that's it. you don't have to feel guilty about manifesting anything. you've been manifesting your whole life. you've manifested the wanted and even the unwanted. so why not change it for the better and not feel guilty about having your desires. cus first, you already have them. second you'll just be wasting your time thinking about the guilt and it won't help you, will it? your insecurities don't possess any power unless you give them. and now that you know you can change your whole life just by thinking and persisting in that thought, then why would you become a slave to your negativity?

#law of assumption

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amintyworld · 3 years

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I'm Like You - Origins SMP Oneshot

A/N: So... Origins SMP may be over but that won't stop me from posting this-! :D

Origins SMP please come back

Anyway here's some hurt/comfort more on the fluffy side. - Minty

TW: Blood/gore, mention of death, kidnapping, mention of chopping one's wings off, mention of selling body parts, almost drowning, cursing. (Let me know if I need to add anything else!)

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

Phil remembered the day they found him - he was tangled in some seaweed and reeds, floating along in the water, leaving a trail of crimson red in his wake. The teenager's right wing was a shamble of blood and feathers, bruises and cuts littering his skin that ignited Phil's anger - he had half a mind to find that damn village and set it ablaze. But, his mind made sure the boy was the priority. Phil untangled him, thankful that the ocean hadn't let him float out to sea, and pulled him on land, quickly searching for a pulse and practically sighing in relief when he'd found one. Phil wondered how long the kid had been out here - he felt ice-cold to the touch, skin ghostly pale.

He remembered, holding the teenager close in his arms as he took off in the air, wondering why. Why would someone hurt a kid, a child, for something they couldn't control? Why would someone have so much hate in their hearts to land deadly hits on a defenseless person? Why then, after everything they did to him, did they leave him in the river to die? Phil never really got an answer that night as he returned toward Ghostbur's mansion on the mountain. He guessed that maybe the world just didn’t have an answer, or rather, they just didn’t have an answer he wanted to hear.

Phil’s roommate, a good-natured phantom called Ghostbur, practically rushed the kid upstairs to a bed, grabbing supplies before Phil even had a chance to explain what happened. “Ghostbur, you really shouldn’t-!” Phil huffed as he launched himself to the second level, grabbing his friend by the arm, feeling his friend’s body shake with adrenaline, emotion. “Wil, he’s got a broken wing - wings are very sensitive and extremely delicate, we need to be careful.” His hand reached up to steady his phantom friend. “Can you grab a couple of potions, bandages, as well as a needle and thread for me? I’ll work on cleaning him up.”

The phantom took a deep breath, silently phasing through the floor beneath his feet to grab the items Phil requested. He understood Ghostbur’s worry - damaged wings for winged creatures could quickly turn detrimental, it was a natural part of who they were, how they felt, and sensed danger around them. Without it, they’d feel incomplete, empty, but most importantly - they’d be in their most vulnerable state.

Phil’s fingers were soft and light as he cleaned out the wounded wing, picking out and straightening feathers that were stuck, misshapen, or out of place. Gently, using lukewarm water, he washed the dirt, rocks, and dried blood from the wound, careful to move slowly so as to not cause alarm to the kid. Ghostbur floated up next to him, placing the things he asked for on the bedside table, crossing his arms, and looking over to the teenager. “Is he gonna be okay, Phil?”

“I…” Phil sighed. “I dunno. The wound’s deep, half his flying feathers are gone… thank gods whoever left him had a shit aim, it looks like they were trying to take the wing off at the source.”

“Can you fix it?”

“...I can try.”

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

Tommy’s head pounded, his body wrapped in a comforting warmth that practically screamed at him to sink into. His muscles ached for rest, but Tommy knew he needed to get moving. His head ached so much it made his brain go fuzzy as he struggled to remember what happened yesterday. He and Tubbo were moving to go collect some honey… Did he fall asleep again?

Tommy would admit it wouldn’t be the first time he found a good sunlight patch to catch a nap and the shulker hybrid had to carry him back to their base on the mountain. How long had he slept? Why was he still tired?

His ears perked up as he heard shuffling around him. His instincts began to flare, sending signals up his spine. Wait… the hunters… the hunters took him… Tubbo’s in danger-

He felt someone touch his wing, gently moving it toward themselves. His wing… they tried to take his wings, they wanted to sell them for money-! Tommy’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t home. He didn’t know where he was and a stranger was touching his wing.

dangerdangerdanger-

Ignoring his body’s protests to rest, he leaped up, surprising the attacker as he tackled him toward the wall quickly to restrain him, pinning his neck with his arm. A crash sounded behind him but Tommy didn’t care. He was getting out of here and saving Tubbo no matter what. His eyes bore into the ill-intended stranger, ready for a fight. “Where am I?!”

The stranger’s eyes flicked up toward Tommy’s, at first matching his intense gaze before quickly softening, silent as he became acutely aware of the razor-sharp talons digging into his leg. “You’re in my house.” He did his best to keep his voice calm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Where’s Tubbo?”

“Who-”

Tommy slammed the man back against the wall. “Don’t act dumb you fucker, where’s the shulk?!”

“I don’t know, okay?! Just-!”

Tommy’s eyes flicked over toward the window - an escape! He needed to get out of here, clearly Tubbo got taken somewhere else if the stranger didn’t know him. He needed to get free and… and come up with some kind of plan...yeah! Adrenaline pumping like mad from the close encounter, the stranger noticed his gaze as realization hit him.

“Wait… hold on, you really shouldn’t-!”

Tommy felt the wind flow underneath his wings, perched on the window ledge. They were achingly sore - who knows how long he’d been trapped here? Moving to crack a tense spot in his back, Tommy felt a sense of relief. He smiled, knowing that his wings wouldn’t be sore for much longer. They just needed to stretch.

Phil rushed forward, an inch too late as Tommy leaped from the building.

The teenager stretched his wings out to catch himself on the breeze, confident for the span of at least a minute. He closed his eyes like he usually did to better focus. Why couldn’t he feel his wings picking him up? Why wasn’t his body doing what he needed to - it was as simple as taking a step! Just stretch and glide on the breeze.

Stretch, and…

For the first time since the avian learned to fly, Tommy found himself crashing down onto the grass. Shame welled up in his stomach, paired with confusion. Hearing the door bang open behind him added to it all a twinge of fear. He stumbled, trying in vain to gather his bearings. Ignoring the sting of scratches from the crash, he ran into the forest.

“Wait! Mate, just wait for a second!”

The wind picked up through the trees, tangling through hair and setting practically every nerve on Tommy’s wings aflame. There was danger. He needed to fly. He needed to fly away, but… but he couldn’t. He was trapped and alone with hunters chasing him down to finish the job they started. He couldn’t stop running. He couldn’t, because if he did he could say goodbye to flying ever again. He’d never grow his wings back, and he’d look like a useless disgusting human.

He’d be normal.

Flying was the only hybrid skill, the only uniqueness about him. Tommy would rather die than ever have that stripped away from him. Chopping away bone, muscle, and feather - all in the interest of earning a few gold coins! Well, fuck them. His body barely running on energy as it was, his legs gave out on him as he fell to the ground again.

No. Please.

He heard footsteps, flipping around to see the blonde man. Pure fear gripped him for the first time in his life. He scooted backwards as the man tried to approach. Another pathetic attempt at escaping - why was he even trying anymore? His back hit a tree trunk, his wings shrinking back, as scared as he was. Yet, the blonde man moved closer.

“Stay back! Stay back, or…” Tommy struggled, quickly moving to grab a rock, holding it up in some sort of threat. As if a rock could take down a hybrid hunter. “...or I will mess you up, bro!”

The blonde man stopped walking forward. “Look, I know you’re confused and scared, I would be too. But I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Liar! I won’t let you take them!”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Take them…? I…” He looked down at the teenager in sympathy. “I don’t want your wings, I swear!”

“Bullshit!” Tommy yelled. “I know your game, stop acting so innocent! You can’t lure me in, you can’t make me trust a single word you say, hunter!”

“I’m not... I’m not a hunter, okay?” Phil said, stepping closer and making Tommy tense. He sat down four feet away from the teen, taking a deep breath before shouldering off his green robe, leaving the white tank. Immediately, a pair of translucent, metallic wings unfurled from his back, so large Tommy almost felt intimidated. Tommy wanted to say something, but words died on his throat. Phil shrugged his shoulders after stretching his wings out looking up toward the avian. He awkwardly smiled. “...well mate, I’m like you.”

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

General Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added/removed!):

@bones-sprouts

@benzel

@foolishcaptains

#osmp #osmp!wilbur #wilbur soot #osmp!tubbo #osmp!tommy #tubbo #tommyinnit #tommyinnit and tubbo #osmp!phil #philza #dadza philza #my writing #hurt/comfort #osmp drabble #osmp fic

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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Obedient

Soft Yan! Erasermic x Chubby Fem! Reader

Summary: Reader gets a new home and is perfectly fine with it, but soon her desires get the best of her.

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Kidnapping, drug use, NSFW, smut, double penetration, yandere themes, light D/S dynamic, daddy kink like once, BDSM themes, Stockholm Syndrome, overall nastiness

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This one’s extremely self indulgent, focusing on a chubby or heavy reader and their insecurities being accepted. Also, I feel like these two would be unfairly amazing with aftercare. If you skip the warnings it ain’t my fault if you don’t like what you read. Thanks and enjoy!

“Happy birthday to me” you mumbled to yourself as you polished off your third glass of whiskey of the night.

It was late, probably close to 2 am, and you sat at your usual spot on the end of the bar. You rapped your knuckles on the wooden countertop, signaling the bartender to pour you another glass. He obliged with a nod and a warm smile, which you easily returned. It was always like this, sitting alone at the edge of the bar on a Friday night, drinking away your stress where you knew you wouldn’t be bothered by your meddlesome coworkers.

The bar was getting quiet, with only a handful of patrons chatting and laughing away in their drunken states. And they were there again. Always sitting in the corner of the establishment, tucked away in a booth together. The two men were there when you started attending the bar on a regular basis a few months ago, and always stayed after you’d left. It seemed normal at first, just a couple of guys drinking at a bar. But you’d caught them looking at you on several occasions. You never looked at them directly, but you always saw their reflections in the glass bottles of liquor, their eyes trained on you with no clear expressions on their faces. They never came over to talk, never made a move, never even got within 5 feet of you. And that’s the way you liked it.

Until tonight.

Both men stood up, and you watched as their reflections casually made their way over to the bar. You averted your eyes and pretended not to notice, hoping they’d leave you alone. “Hey there” Well, so much for leaving me alone. You turned to see a handsomely rugged man looking down at you, his raven hair loose and framing his chiseled jaw and his dark eyes peering into your own. You notice a curved scar just under his right eye. His friend stood beside him, with long blonde hair tied up in a laxed ponytail and hypnotic green eyes trained on you behind orange tinted sunglasses.

“Hi fellas” you spoke, eyeing the two with a quirked eyebrow. The blonde moved over to your left and sat down next to you, the other choosing to stand on your right. “Hey little listener! Mind if I sit here?” the blonde asked with a megawatt grin, the sheer volume of his voice startled you a little. “Not at all” you said with a warm smile. ‘Listener? What a strange nickname’ you thought. There was a few seconds of silence before the dark haired man spoke. “So, what’s the occasion?” You wondered how he knew there was an occasion, and almost reading your mind he said, “You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar” Huh. Looks like they were watching me after all.

You took a swig of whiskey before speaking. “Nothing special. It’s just my birthday”. And you meant it. Your birthday was never anything special. Just a testament to another routine year on this earth. “I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” the blonde nudged your shoulder as he spoke. You laughed at that statement. “Nah, just another year gone by” The alcohol was starting to get to you, you could tell. You were never this talkative sober.

The black haired man knocked on the bar, “Next round’s on me. Hey barkeep, one more glass for this pretty kitten here” The pet name made your cheeks tingle a little, but you kept it under control and tilted your head. You scoffed “Kitten? Really?” He looked you up and down and said “Well how would you describe yourself, kitty?” He smirked at you, waiting for your response. The logical side of your brain warned you ‘Don’t do it, you can’t be self deprecating on your 25th birthday’. You didn’t listen. “Well I’m far from cat-like. Chubby, short, chunky. The only thing cat-like about me would have to be my trained posture and eyeliner” You chuckled, matter-of-factly. You worked as a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant and you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised.

“Hmm, pretty and humble” the blonde muttered. You laughed again “Pretty. Right”. Neither of them said anything. You looked at the two men, closely. Where did you recognize them? Why did they look so familiar? There was silence as you studied their faces. Then it struck you. Your eyes went wide and you took a sharp inhale “You’re Eraserhead” you looked over at him, and then turned to the blonde “And you’re Present Mic”. Both men grinned at the recognition, “In the flesh sunshine”. You turned and stared at your drink, feeling your face get warm. You were extremely socially awkward and hated confrontation, even if it were friendly, so you did the only thing that could save you and excused yourself to the ladies’ room.

Once the door closed behind you you let out a shaky breath and leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. What the hell were they doing talking to you? Or even looking at you? You backed up, deciding to fix yourself. You pulled your skirt down a little further over your thighs, tugged your thigh-high socks a little higher, and redid your ponytail.Taking a deep breath, you walked back out to the two heroes and sat down, a new glass of whiskey on the bartop in front of you. With slightly shaky hands you grabbed the glass and took a big swig, then glanced between the two men and said “It’s very nice to meet you” Eraserhead chuckled and Mic said “Likewise sweetheart. The name’s Hizashi” “And you can call me Shouta”.

The night went on and the three of you talked for another hour or so. Eventually you glanced at your watch and decided it’s time to go home. “Let us take you home (y/n)” Shouta offered. You declined politely, you couldn’t intrude on them any more than you already had. But they insisted, so you obliged, deciding that walking home in these 4-inch platform boot heels would kill you. Shouta hadn’t had a drink all night so he hopped in the driver’s seat, Hizashi in the passenger and you in the back. You punched your address into the GPS and the car started moving.

“Water?” Hizashi offered, holding a bottle of water over the back of his seat. You took it and thanked him, immediately chugging the whole bottle in one breath. You didn’t notice Shouta watching you, and you didn’t notice the bottle had already been opened and laced with something. Soon your head became heavy, along with your eyelids as you tried to blink away sleep. “You seem tired (y/n), why don’t you take a nap. We’ll wake you up when we get there” You nodded and sprawled across the backseat, settling into a deep sleep, unaware that you were never going to see your bed again.

You woke up sore and stiff, and you stretched out, feeling the soft silky sheets under your body. It took you a moment to realise these weren’t your sheets, and you snapped your eyes open and sat up to an unfamiliar room. “Shit” you cursed under your breath. You strained your memory to see if you’d gone home with anyone the night before, but the last thing you remember was being driven home by two pro heroes and passing out in the backseat of their car. Your head began to swim with possibilities and questions. Where am I? Why am I here? Where were the two heroes? You tried to cross your legs but your left ankle was stopped short. You threw the blanket off and saw a metal cuff and a thick chain holding you in place.

You felt yourself start to panic, but leveled your head and steadied your breathing before you lost control. You willed yourself to relax, and think of ways to get out of this predicament. Today is Saturday. Whoever took me would be here, assuming this room is part of a larger house. You stilled your nerves and gently called out. “H-hello? Is there anyone there?” A few seconds later you hear footsteps, and the door opened. The last thing you expected to see was a handsomely rugged pro hero Shouta Aizawa standing in the doorway. “Morning kitty” he said with a smirk.

You froze in place and blinked at the man. You lost yourself in your head, remembering all the yandere fanfic you read, remembering last night and piecing things together. The bottle of water was already open. To be fair, they are heroes. Letting your guard down was only natural. A hand on your shoulder jolted you back to reality. You stared at Shouta like a deer in headlights. “You okay there?” You blinked back at him, and swallowed down the lump in your throat before saying “Let me guess. This is my new home”. He stared back down at you before chuckling, “Well that’s not the reaction I was expecting. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you?”

He left the room and you got lost in thought again. You knew you shouldn’t be so calm, so willing, so obedient. But you also knew how boring your life had been, how mundane and lonely. You had cut ties with your family a long time ago, and you didn’t have any friends because of your trust issues and antisociality. You knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. To give up control.

And it shone through the more you explored in your late teen years. You found how much you loved the idea of having a dominant person to tell you you were doing good, someone you could trust to guide you. Someone to take over and lead you. The few relationships you had fell through once your partner learned about your preferences. They weren’t willing to put a collar on you, like you were some sort of animal. They never understood the trust and respect that came with the garment.

Maybe this was your chance to have the relationship you’d always yearned for. To be loved for exactly who you are. And you knew it was wrong to want to like your captors, the people who kidnapped you. But in reality what were you going to do? Try to escape and risk injuring yourself? Or worse, risk getting caught and be punished for it? There were no realistic scenarios where you got out of here and escape from them completely. If they were the yandere types you thought them to be, you knew it was pointless to struggle.

Shouta came back and broke you out of your thoughts with a tray of pancakes, fruit, and a glass of orange juice. You shifted so you were sitting against the headboard and he placed the tray on your lap. You mumbled a small ‘thank you’ and began to eat, only now realizing how hungry you were. About halfway through the meal he spoke. “You know, you’re taking this really well.” You finished the food in your mouth and looked at him “Well there’s no use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out” you said, motioning to the chain and cuff around your ankle. “You’re not wrong,” he said back, and left you to finish breakfast.

He came back ten minutes later, took the tray, and returned with a key, handcuffs, and a blindfold. “I’m sure you need to use the bathroom” you nodded, acknowledging the pressure on your bladder “These are just a precaution” he said as he locked the cuffs around your wrists and tied the blindfold around your head. You felt the cuff on your ankle fall off and Shouta’s arms under your knees and back as he lifted you off the bed and carried you to where you assumed the bathroom was. Once inside, he put you down and took the blindfold and cuffs off. He stepped outside and locked the door and said “I’ll be waiting out here. Once you’re done knock on the door and I’ll take you back to the bed”. You nodded, and did just that. Back on the bed, he locked the cuff around your ankle and stood to leave before you stopped him.

“H-hey, S-shouta?” he turned around and quirked an eyebrow, “Can I…draw?” You had no idea if he’d let you have anything, but you had to try. If you were going to be stuck in here you needed a way to keep yourself occupied. He hummed and left the room, returning with a sketch pad, a pencil, and an eraser. Once he left you began sketching away, deciding koi fish were to be the subjects of your creativity.

Days went by, being served three meals a day by either Shouta or Hizashi. Eventually, they began to question why you were so obedient and calm about the whole situation. They began to think you were just trying to get them to let their guard down, and give you a chance to escape. You always answered their questions truthfully. “I don’t mind it here. My life had always been uneventful so the change is mildly appreciated. And you treat me well, so I can say I’m at least a little happy”. They weren’t anything like you expected. They weren’t overly protective or controlling, never posed any kind of threat. Never tried to convince you of anything, not that they had to.

After about a week, they took the cuff off your ankle and stored it away. “You can roam the house freely” Shouta said, holding his hand out to you. Gingerly you took his hand, slowly standing from the bed. Your legs shook a little, but Shouta held you so you could stretch them out and get comfortable walking again. He walked out, motioning for you to follow. You ended up in the dining room, sitting at the table. With Shouta sitting next to you, you assumed Hizashi was in the kitchen cooking dinner.

“So (y/n), what have you been drawing?”. The question caught you off guard, but you answered “Koi fish”. “Ah, any particular reason why?”. You thought to yourself for a moment, and answered “Well they’re gorgeous creatures, elegant, sleek, graceful. I’ve always loved drawing koi”. He hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer. You then started to ramble a bit about how koi reminded you of dragons for some reason, and how beautiful you thought dragons were.

Soon dinner was served and Hizashi was caught up in the conversation. After dinner you all went to watch movies in the living room, and you dozed off between the two men, relishing in the warmth their bodies radiated. Shouta carried you to the bed and laid you down to sleep, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. He stood there, admiring you for a few minutes before leaving to join Hizashi in their room.

———————-

After a couple months living with the two men, thoughts began to swirl around in your brain. Caring thoughts. And needy, dirty thoughts. You’d push them away as quickly as they came because you knew what was happening. You read about Stockholm syndrome many times, and you tried desperately to remind yourself that liking them was wrong. But you were in far too deep. Eventually the part of you that tried to fight it lost miserably and you stopped pushing those thoughts away, because despite the kidnapping, they were nothing but good to you.

The days they’d both have to leave for their hero duties were the days you’d begin to realize you missed them. You dug through their closet and began to wear one or the other’s t-shirts around the house. Eventually it became normal. You’d always wear their clothes, whether they were home or not, and they didn’t seem to mind. You got closer to them, getting more cuddly and affectionate, giving and receiving more kisses. Soon you were all sleeping together, and life began to feel strangely normal. But the realization of how sexually frustrated you were drove you mad.

You wanted to feel their hands on you, touching you, caressing you, making you feel good. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed them. But you had some pride, so you just left hints. You dressed lighter, showing more skin. Not wearing any shorts with their t-shirts, letting the collars drop and expose your shoulders. You could see them looking. Their glances made you ache, you wanted them so bad. But they weren’t budging. So you gave in and tossed your pride aside.

One day after they came home from patrol and dinner was finished, you quickly washed the dishes and tugged them over to the living room couch and sat down on the coffee table, facing them. Their confused expressions only grew more confused when your face burned red. What you were about to ask them embarrassed you to no end, but you had to do it or you’d go insane.

You took a deep breath, looked up at them, and began quietly. “S-so, um, I really like it here, and…and I appreciate everything you two have done for me…” you swallowed the lump that formed in your throat, “a-and I know you’ve given me everything I asked-” you were abruptly cut off by Shouta saying “No, (y/n), you can’t go outside”. The statement threw you off, and you quickly rambled “N-no, no! That’s not…I wasn’t asking to leave! I love it here and I love just being with you two and doing whatever…but it’s not what we do…it’s what we…don’t do…that’s bothering me…just a little bit…”

Shouta’s stern expression turned soft, then after a few moments a knowing smirk tugged at his lips. Hizashi still looked as confused as before the conversation and said “Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. There’s a lot of things we don’t do”. Shouta spoke up “‘Zashi, hold on”. Hizashi quieted and shrugged. Shouta looked at you with narrow eyes and a knowing smirk. “Come here kitty” he said and pat his leg. The name sent shivers down your spine. You bit your lip, got up and straddled his lap. He tucked his finger under your chin and pulled so you were looking him in the eyes “I think our kitty cat’s getting a little needy, ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right kitty?”. Your face burned fiercely, and you bit your lip harder and gave a small nod.

Shouta dropped his hand and grabbed your waist, lifting you off his lap and onto Hizashi as he stood up to get something. You closed your eyes and let out a small squeak from the sudden movement. You opened your eyes to Hizashi’s wide grin. He wrapped his arms around your waist, leaned forward and slotted his lips against yours, giving you a soft affectionate kiss. You melted into his arms, letting a haze drift into your mind. Shouta came back holding something, but you couldn’t quite see it in his hand. You looked back up at his face, and he looked at Hizashi. The two shared a look and you couldn’t quite place their expressions.

Shouta sat down, and began gently rubbing your arm. He seemed to be trying to figure out how to say something, but he decided actions were better than words. He took a small breath and held up what he’d been holding. And it made your breath hitch in your throat. You realized in that moment that they had been watching you a lot more than just at the bar. They knew about your relationship issues, your preferences, they knew everything.

It was a collar. And it was beautiful. One half was black leather, studded with yellow gems, the other half yellow with black gems, and the center had a silver loop with a little bell. You reached out and touched it, letting your fingers trace over the gems. You look up at Shouta and the question leaves your lips before you can think. “Is it for me?” he nods, and it made tears prick the corners of your eyes. He knew what you wanted. They both did. He gives a sweet smile and moves behind you, looping it around your neck. You hold your hair up, and wait for the sound.

Click

It locks, and you shudder, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Shouta tilts your head and kisses you, soft and deep. He loops a finger through the collar and gently tugs, and you let out a mewl, letting him dip his tongue past your lips. A haze drifts over your mind in a thick blanket, and you melt into the kiss. He pulls away, and you look up at him with lust-blown eyes, then look at Hizashi who leans over and kisses your cheek.

Hizashi picks you up and places you on the floor and the two stand up, Shouta loops a finger in your collar and tugs, and the two lead you over to the bedroom. Hizashi begins to undress first, and Shouta pulls you into another heated kiss. This time a little more rough, a little more passionate, his tongue gliding over yours. He bites your bottom lip and you let out a soft moan. Hizashi, now completely naked, sits on the edge of the bed and calls out to you “Come over here baby”. You pull away from Shouta and walk over to the blonde. He motions for you to turn around, and he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap.

He pulls off the shirt you’re wearing, groaning after seeing you had no bra on. He pulls you by your arms, pressing your back against his chest, and peppers kisses along your neck and shoulders. You mewl softly, shuddering from the sensation. You didn’t know kisses could feel so good. Shouta comes over and starts to massage your breasts, kneading them with his palms and grazing over the sensitive buds. Hizashi brings his hands to your stomach and gently caresses and grabs at the soft flesh, squishing and kneading the fat gathered there.

You whine from the contact, and feeling extremely self-conscious you grab his arms and try to pull him away. He shushes you and whispers in your ear “It’s okay, baby, let me feel you. You’re so beautiful”. He nips at your ear and kisses your neck. You let your arms relax and drop to your sides, letting the blonde explore your body the way he wants. Shouta kneels in front of you and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling. He grabs your thighs and pulls your legs apart, squeezing the fat there.

As the two squeeze and grope every part of you that you never liked, you can’t help but feel exposed and slightly uncomfortable. You whimper softly, tears beginning to sting your eyes as you take shaky breaths to still yourself. Hizashi turns your head and kisses away the tears as they fall, and Shouta leans up and kisses your belly and thighs. “Shhh kitty, let us love you. Let us love all of you, kitty cat. You’re so pretty…such a pretty little kitty~”.

You relax further, and you realize these two beautiful men are worshipping your body like you’re a goddess. You’re far from being comfortable in your skin, but the initial fear is gone, and your body relaxes as they continue their ministrations. “Good girl kitty. Good girl” Shouta whispers as he kisses and nips at your thighs. “Open your legs for us baby” Hizashi dips his fingers down and teases your dripping core, slipping up and down your folds as Shouta pulls your panties down and off your legs. You buck your hips up, begging for more friction. He dips two fingers into your core and a soft moan escapes your lips.

He reaches his thumb up to rub tight circles over your clit, and you mewl at the sensation, rocking your hips into his hand. Shouta continues focusing on your breasts and belly, kneading and kissing and licking. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, curling his fingers to hit your g-spot and rubbing your clit faster. The knot snaps and you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking, you throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high.

After your release you relax back down, breathing hard. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy. “You ready kitty?” He asks, and you look up at him through your lashes and nod. He tugs at your collar “Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?”. Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without thinking “Yes Daddy”. Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath. He thrusts his hips forward and bottoms out in one movement. You gasp, the stretch around his thick length was almost enough to make you cum a second time.

Shouta stills to let you adjust and leans down to kiss the bruises on your neck from Hizashi. “I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of your core. Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock deep into your pussy, walls clenching around him. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth. Your tongue slides over his fingers, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling out and Hizashi removing his hand from your mound and you whine at the emptiness, your pussy clenching around nothing. Shouta moves to sit and pulls you onto his lap, pressing your chests together, and Hizashi sits up behind you, pressing against your back. “On your knees baby girl, hold yourself up” Hizashi says into your neck.

You oblige, holding yourself up as the two men line themselves up with your dripping core. Once they’re ready, They grab your hips and pull you onto them, both of their hard cocks slipping into your pussy. You throw your head back against Hizashi’s shoulder, nearly screaming from the stretch. Your nails dig into Shouta’s back as they bottom out. They still their movements, all three of you panting hard. Despite the lack of movement, you mewl and whimper, your walls clenching and stretching to accommodate the both of them.

You relax slightly, feeling fuller than you’ve ever been before, and they immediately start to move. They pull out until just the tips are still in, and slam you down onto them, setting a brutal pace. You scream from the pleasure, clawing at the muscles in Shouta’s back. Hizashi reaches around to rub your clit and it shoves you over the edge and has you cumming around them, your essence dripping down your thighs and their cocks. They keep slamming back into you, your pussy clenching around them. They slow their pace ever so slightly, feeling their own release building. Hizashi keeps rubbing tight circles around your clit “Do you have one more for us baby? Cum one more time”.

You whine from the overstimulation, feeling every vein as they pump themselves in and out of your core. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach. Shouta leans down and bites down hard on the sweet spot between your neck and shoulder, just under the collar, and it pulls you over, crying out as your pussy clamps down hard. Their hips stutter, and they pick up the pace, chasing their own release as you ride out your high. They thrust two more times and they’re both shooting hot ropes of cum into you, filling you to the brim.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments, they pull out together, the movement making you moan and shake. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom. Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he takes off your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back down to earth.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, squeezing it appreciatively. They both muttered soft ‘good girl’s and ‘good kitty’s in you ears. You felt secure with them, the hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off. He takes you from Shouta and dries you off with a towel and loops your collar back around your neck. “Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us”. Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, and as you fall asleep you mumble a soft “I love you both” into Hizashi’s chest, and Shouta whispers into your ear “We love you too kitty cat.”

#yandere bnha #erasermic x reader #yandere erasermic #stockholm syndrome #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #hizashi x reader #yandere aizawa #yandere yamada hizashi #erasermic

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vln-vibes · 4 years

Text

Unwanted, Unreliable, Unstoppable

Yeah so this thing is crazy long so I’m dividing it into three parts. Anyways this is very self indulgent but I hope you like the content.

Summary: They were tired, they were so so tired. This fight has been going on long enough, this war was getting harder and harder to fight as the years went on but no one ever helped; Not the citizens of Paris, not the French government and certainly not the Justice League. But what is they received help from a man that was practically a myth himself; the Batman. Is this exactly what the Miraculous Team needs or will this lead to their falling from grace?

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“I’m so tired of this!” Ladybug scratched at her head feverishly. Currently she was standing at the second most top of the Eiffel Tower with her team: Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion.

“I know m’lady” Chat sighed, letting his cheerful mask take a break as he stood next to her, leaning into the railings.

“Those— Those assholes that call themselves the Justice League just keep ignoring us; it's like they just don’t give a shit about us” Viperion rolled his eyes. They had tried, time and time again, to get help from older, more experienced heroes with their situation in Paris; they were fucking teenagers thrust into an adult’s war. One they didn’t even care for anymore.

“They don’t care for Paris… Why should we?” Ryuuko spoke up, cold fury clear in her eyes. “If they cannot find the need to handle the Paris situation themselves then why must we be the ones to? No one even appreciates out efforts, its like they just want us to have everything handled”

It was true.

At first the Parisians praised the Dynamic Duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir, for stepping up and saving the city from the terrifying Akumas they had no way of handling. They even got the heroes to help out with things not in their jurisdiction; suddenly any crime, as minor or major as it could get, required their attention, any fire could not be handled by the fire department alone, schools needed the heroes to make guest appearances, they were wanted in television interviews, everyone needed to know everything about them. It was fine, for a while, they didn’t mind helping out.

Then Heroes’ Day happened.

Suddenly they were pathetic.

If they were supposed to be so strong then how come other heroes had to come to help? It had never occurred to them that they were chosen by Ladybug and Chat Noir, all they knew was that the duo was not as strong as they once believed.

After all it was just one criminal,

How hard could it be?

Sometimes, Ladybug wishes, she had just let Alya keep the stupid earrings. She was sure the girl would have taken them immediately at the time but, given her brashness and temperamental nature, she would have already lost to Hawkmoth.

Plus she didn’t blame the small kwami or even Master Fu all that much: She resented the man but still respected him very much and knew he went through the same thing as she did at an even younger age with absolutely no way out. She was aware that if she truly wanted to all she could do was just give the earrings to someone else or even hand them over. But Ladybug was stubborn and the earrings were her’s now, just like the ring was Chat’s, the choker was Ryuuko’s and the bangle was Viperion’s.

That didn’t mean this battle was theirs to fight.

“... Why don’t we leave?” Viperion asked, disturbing their silence. The trio looked at him curiously, as though he broke an unspoken rule.

“Why would we?” Ladybug responded, knowing fully well that Viperion didn’t tend to speak up unless he was certain of his words.

“Because they’re running us dry, this city is killing us” Viperion raised his voice, aware that they could already, “Adrien and Kagami are living shitty home lives with abusive assholes that want to call themselves parents. Mari, you’re being burdened with too much responsibility by that bitch Bustier and that class full of sheep! I hate seeing you all kill yourselves for people that will never appreciate it because they think they’re above it!”

At the end of his rant Viperion’s eyes were nearly glowing, his breathing a bit more rough than normal, looking away from his teammates knowing he stepped too far. “Sorry, but I don’t want my friends to die on me when I can do something to stop it”

Ryuuko, Chat Noir and Ladybug understood where he was coming from but it was like a slap on the face, a reminder of what civilian life was like for them. Ryuuko could feel the sting coming from her leg, where mother had hit with her shinai after failing to be in proper form. Chat Noir still felt the ache of having to do photoshoots all day and then staying up at night to have to do his make-up work; not that his father cared with his disregard of child labor laws. Ladybug still had some redness from bruises Alya had caused by tripping her on her way to class.

“... Okay so these are the sad gang hours” the group turned back seeing Roter Fochs land, Roi Singe and Pegasus landing behind them. The Parisians were really only aware of ‘The Core Four’ as they’d rather have some aces up their sleeves; not that the three were ready to confront the Parisian backlash just yet. They didn’t want to deal with anymore bullshit than they had to in their civilian lives.

“Is everything alright? Or is it just Life™?” Roi Singe asked, leaning onto his bo-staff next to Viperion.

“It takes 60 euroes to go to therapy but no money to say it just be like that sometimes” Roter Fochs shrugged, much to the dismay of Viperion, Roi Singe and Pegasus.

“Can you please stop joking about your mental health” Pegasus found himself groaning. A small hovering screen appeared next to him, a cowboy hat firmly attached to the top with an antenna sticking out.

“Yes studies show that LGBT youth have a higher percentage to suffer from depression, some even to the point that they𑁋”

“Thanks for the concern CowBot but, really, I’m fine; let me have my fun” Roter softly tapped the little robot. It was nice having people, well sentient beings, still concerned with his well being.

Suddenly the group tensed, their artificial ears and enhanced senses picking up a light clink, the sound of something quickly winding up followed. Two male figures landed in front of them, quickly surrounded by the Parisians. The taller one of the two quipped:

“Well aren’t you a merry bunch”

“Who are you and why are you here?” Chat Noir kept an icy cold edge to his voice, emulating how his father would talk to employees that weren’t Natalie.

“They’re not Akumas, no magic radiating off of them” Ladybug analyzed, looking closely at the duo but she couldn’t recognize them at all. The male that had spoken had a lean and relatively tall body, he couldn’t be more than four years older than her team, so around his late teens early twenties. He had long raven hair, his bangs framing his face perfectly, even in the moonlight she could tell he had a pale complexion though the black domino mask he sported helped hide most of it and his eyes. His uniform wasn’t one she recognized from any superhero from the League; black kevlar, if she had to guess, made up nearly the entirety of his suit, from his boots, pants and even gauntlets, heck she wouldn’t be surprised if his cape was bulletproof. One of the only things to bring color was his crimson chest piece, with two belts across it holding up a golden bird symbol, the same one on his canary utility belt.

“Tt, we just came here to talk” the smaller male scoffed, his posture not looking any more tense or relaxed, just attentive. His build was also lean like his taller partner though she could tell his body would be able to build more muscles with his broader shoulders. She assumed they were around the same age, his jawline defined but not to the same extent an adult’s would be. His hair seemed almost darker than that of his partner’s and was slicked back though maintaining most of its volume, a naturally tan skin was found beneath a green domino mask, much like his companion’s. His uniform was definitely more colorful, almost as if he was meant to garner attention(and boy wasn’t that concerning); black seemed to be the main color in his suit with the outer cape, pants and sleeves being that color, ruby red tunic that went beyond his belt with dandelion accents on its edges and a golden R over his heart, pine boots and gauntlets matching the shade of his mask with dandelion yellow covering the inside of his cape and hood as well as his own utility belt.

She had no clue who they were.

“And why should we trust you?”

“Because we don’t like the Justice League any more than you do”

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One Week Ago

“Hey B, we found something interesting while reading the League’s data” Barbara Gordon’s voice echoed in the BatCave. Currently she and Tim were doing the weekly check-in on the League, something those heroes never seemed to notice. Not that they were surprised.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked, telling Duke and Damian to take a break from combat training while he did.

“There’s an alarming amount of distress calls from France, specifically Paris, that the League has been either ignoring or not receiving” Tim showed him the graph of all the history, going back at least three years closer. It was small at first, once every two months at the beginning, once a month when the second year began, every two weeks bordering on weekly near the end of it, by the start of the third it was daily until some time three months ago they just stopped.

Well wasn’t that cause for concern?

“Can we get any audio of the calls?” Bruce’s detective side coming up as Barbara was able to bring up a few that hadn’t been automatically deleted by the Justice League’s system. The first one was the very first from three years ago, a video call.

“Uh hello!” the girl on the video said awkwardly, clearly nervous but determined to get her message out, “My name is Ladybug”

Her costume looked like it was simply made by spandex, a rather plain design of red with black spots around, a domino mask with open lenses was the only thing really concealing her identity.

“Paris has a supervillain, his name is Hawkmoth and he feeds off of negative emotions. His power can turn anyone into his enslaved champion and we- my partner and I are the only ones really fighting this. I- I know you’re all really busy saving the world and all that but- but we’re just kids! We have no experience and well, we were hoping you can send someone to help? We’ve only confronted him three times now but well, we were just pushed into this”

Bruce could feel his blood growing cold, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen when this was recorded. He knew no Leaguers went on missions to Paris for the past five years… He told them to play the next video, from two years ago.

“Hello Justice League” Ladybug still wore her simple spandex though now standing tall next to a boy with a black cat leather outfit. Behind them was a girl with a bee themed outfit, a girl with a fox themed outfit and a boy with a turtle theme.

“We just came out of this Heroes Day disaster”

“No thanks to their help” the bee girl snapped before looking away.

“Look, Hawkmoth is getting more and more dangerous. He was able to transform half of Paris into his minions, they took over Paris and nearly won”

“What is it going to take you for you guys to finally help?” the cat boy growled much to the surprise of the others.

“Chat Noir!”

“Oh please we can totally handle Hawkmoth without them; you two should be enough already. With us three helping you, defeating him should be easy, power of teamwork and all that” the fox girl waved off, much to the surprise of the turtle.

“Rena did you seriously not remember what just happened. We were compromised, we nearly let Paris fall. We’re not trained for this, not even LB and Chat, and they’ve been doing this for the past year”

“Whatever”

“What was the last transmission?” Bruce found himself asking as the cave suddenly grew silent, all eyes on the monitor as their last transmission played.

“Why are we even bothering with this?” a new male voice asked, the video was shaky before finally pointing at the Parisian streets. If you could even call what was essentially a river of water, reaching to the top of most rooftops streets anymore. Items were floating about, bodies littered around them.

“They’ll never listen, they never did” another female voice agreed, they assumed it was the girl at the corner of the screen, looking down on the streets in what could be described as pity.

“I know” Ladybug’s voice sighed from behind the camera. “But they should at least see the consequences of their actions”

“If they even bother watching these, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just delete these as soon as we send them” Chat Noir entered the screen, eyes cold and calculating.

“Paris should be thankful that Lucky Charm is able to bring them back” the male with the snake themed outfit shook his head. “This is probably the 1,000 time most of Paris died with an akuma, second with Syren”

“Super lucky” the dragon female rolled her eyes “It’s not even worth trying to save citizens since all they do is cretique us”

“And the officers; Apparently we should be able to deal with city-destroying being and protect the people at the same time while officers just stand behind the lines waiting for us to do both” Chat Noir hissed

“What's done is done. This will be our last call for the Justice League; I hope you’re all happy, knowing that you’ve forced children to grow up and fight in a man’s war. Bug Out”

“There are no records of these videos even being played, or even of these events happening as far as Parisian government records say. But there’s clearly a lot of cover up going on, most of Paris’ emergency broadcasting doesn’t make it out of its borders, heavy encouragement of tourism even though there have been complaints by the people about… akumas?” Tim reported as soon as the video finished playing.

“There’s even records of a city-funded statue being made for Ladybug and Chat Noir yet no indication of where it is or what its for” Barbara continued “This blog keeps coming up, it used to be called the Ladyblog before it switched to Fox Tea. Look at these videos”

The screens were suddenly filled with shots of these Akuma; one that froze the city over, one who controlled the weather, one who began dropping adults from the sky, Syren, Heroes’ Day… All of them had to be handled by scared children.

“These look too real to be edited” Duke said in awe. He was very aware of his children all surrounding the screens, looking at the countless destruction of one of the major cities in the world.

And none of them had ever heard of them or these children who were forced to deal with it.

Ones who seeked out help and were never given the time of day.

“Red Robin, Robin” his two sons standing in attention “I want you to investigate the matter and offer our help; convince them that we’re on their side on not aligned with the League”

“We’re on it, Batman”

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“So you just want us to believe you found out about us and suddenly want to help?” Roter Fochs looked at the duo skeptically.

“We wish to assist you with this whole… situation. No one has heard of Akumas or of Parisian heroes before, we concluded that it may be the government attempting to keep tourism up” the shorter male, Robin, they later learned, spoke up while keeping his hands in the air.

“Though that doesn’t excuse the League, who we know you personally sent distress messages” Red Robin echoed the message “We understand the incompetence of the League better than anyone else. Did you know they never bothered to even open most of those messages?”

Red Robin was surprised by the sudden animalistic growling coming from the group, some of their eyes glowing while others looked disappointed.

Ladybug looked hurt.

“Who do you work for?” Ryuuko asked, curious but not letting her sword lower from its position.

“We’re Robin and Red Robin”

“Like the food chain?”

“.... Yes. Anyway we’re vigilantes sanctioned in Gotham, New Jersey in the United States; we’re both proteges of the Batman” Red Robin held back the need to roll his eyes at the monkey boy’s statement.

“Never heard of him” the French heroes turned to each other, trying to see if the name rang any bells.

“According to the internet the Batman is almost a folklore for Gotham; people claim to see him and his array of birds and bats but none could ever get clear photos” CowBot replied after a quick search.

“If the League never saw our messages then how do you know about them?” Chat Noir stared right at them, as though he’d know they were lying, which he couldn’t but Roter Fochs could and would.

“Because we’re better than the League” Robin said with the same certainty one would say the grass was green.

“Why should we believe you?” Ladybug asked skeptically, if they were so good then why didn’t they handle what the League wouldn’t? Why didn’t they just try to take over the Hawkmoth situation without their input? Why didn’t they just take down the League by themselves?

“You shouldn’t, “ Robin shrugged once more “But we’ll actually help where the League wouldn’t”

Ladybug stole a look from Chat Noir, both turning to Roter Fochs, who shook his head softly indicating the duo wasn’t lying.

“If you really want us to talk then give us the coordinates to meet with the Batman” Ladybug demanded, Robin looked outraged at the implication while Red Robin nodded.

“Alright, but how will you know if we’re lying to you?” he asked curiously, typing something in his communicator, the center of his utility belt, before handing it over to her.

“Trust me, we know when you’re lying plus we’d know when we get there” Viperion smirked, “Also you can stand down now Bunnix, MultiMouse”

The duo were not surprised to see two figures standing behind them, one male with a mouse theme and rope wrapped around his hands, and a petite girl with a bunny theme and a sharp looking umbrella pointing straight at their backs. They were just surprised that they hadn't sensed them before.

“Did you get those coordinates, Pegasus?”

“Yes Ladybug, waiting for your signal”

“Well then birdies, we better hope you weren’t lying or you’ll find Hawkmoth won’t be your biggest problem”

“Voyage!”

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“Why don’t you guys like the League?”

The meeting between the Bats and Team Miraculous had gone much better than any of them had expected; it had certainly helped when they found out one of their own, Agent A as they called him, was once a wielder.

They had both been surprised by the amount of members each team had: The Bats had expected Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion; Roter Fochs, Pegasus, Roi Singe, Bunnix and MultiMouse had been a surprise.

Meanwhile Team Miraculous had only heard of whispers of Batman and many Robins, even a theory on a bat girl of sorts from their brief research; having Batman, Robin (V), Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal, Batgirl, Batwoman, and Black Bat not to mention Oracle and Agent A; they had almost thought it was an ambush.

They supposed they each knew how to keep certain secrets tight.

“The Justice League, though still consisting of some of the most powerful people in this Earth, are too high and mighty; none of them really consider the consequences of their actions and are too reliant on their powers to be able to resolve all their problems. None of them have any contingency plans if their enemies find out their weaknesses and exploit them. Not a single member is a ‘normal human’”

He pulled up a hologram in the middle of the meeting table, every person who's worked with Justice League showing up, each showing their array of powers and abilities before showing their membership status.

Batman, Green Arrow, Speedy, Robin, Artemis; Non-Members

Two Green Lanterns, Captain Marvel, Black Canary, Bumblebee, Rocket, the Atom, Blue Beetle (II), Superboy; Reserve members with clearance.

“That does seem pretty discriminatory” Viperion hummed as he thought of the people on the list, those on the Non-member list had no power or enhancement at all while those on the reserve, with the exception of Captain Marvel and Superboy, had powers or suits but the vulnerability of humans.

They weren’t considered strong enough, or maybe even reliable enough.

“We’d probably be considered in the same capacity as a Green Lantern” Pegasus concluded “Take away their ring and their powers go away”

“Which brings us to the next question” Batgirl chimed cheerfully “What is it exactly that you’re facing off against?”

“The Miraculous are ancient artifacts that lend you the powers of certain godlings named Kwami. Kwamis are the essence of concepts and ideas: The Ladybug who represents Luck and Creation, the Black Cat who represents Misfortune and Destruction and Horse who represents Transportation and Innovation are just some examples” Ryuuko explained for them

“Hawkmoth is in possession of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Desire along with the Peacock of Emotion and Will” Ladybug paused briefly as she saw the look of surprise on Agent A’s face, wondering if she’d feel that way if she found out Tikki was being used for evil in the future. “Both were thought to be missing, possibly destroyed, when the last Master of the Order was able to salvage them from the attack to the Temple of Miracles. He was only a child when the Temple was attacked, thus he was able to escape without being detected by the enemy”

“If I remember correctly,” Chat Noir interrupted “I believe Master Fu said their name was “The Shadows” or I think he said they now go by𑁋”

“The League of Shadows” Nightwing softly added, the air tensing immediately.

“You know of them?” MultiMouse was weary considering the Shadows were very keen on keeping to, well, shadows. That had to mean that the Bats had confronted them.

“Intimately so” Batman growled out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bunnix’s brows furrowed underneath her mask, feeling as though they wouldn’t like the answer.

“The Shadows have been a pain in Gotham’s ass in the past” Batgirl explained before turning to Batman “Especially since the Demon’s Head was interested in having Batman as a Son-in Law, though his daughter is sometimes an ally”

“Batgirl!” Red Robin admonished

“Don’t forget the little demon over here” Red Hood joked, missing the look of shock in the Parisian heroes.

“Or the fact that it sometimes seems like he wants to get on Red Robin’s dick and have his babies”

“Batgirl, Red Hood that’s enough” Batwoman sternly looked at the duo.

“You’re saying Robin is related to the Shadows” the Parisian heroes in the Reserve Team looked at them suspiciously while the Core Four just patiently waited to see what the Bats would say.

“That’s in the past” Nightwing steely stated “He was born into that lifestyle, but his mother let him chose to leave and live a different life”

“We had no choice of who our parents were” Black Bat reinforced, the team taking a mental note that she was once a shadow as well.

“Noted” Chat Noir said cooly “Though you must understand our reluctance when hearing the Shadows; like we said the Shadows destroyed the temple that was meant to safeguard the Miraculous and killed off every Guardian in the process”

“It would be foolish of us to not be on guard when hearing of them being so close to us again” Ryuuko explained “Though we will give the benefit of the doubt”

And so was the beginning of their partnership.

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“You’re all skilled fighters for not having any proper training” Oracle commended, looking at the statistics of the spars they all had, by far the Core Four had the strongest stats but it wasn’t because of the others’ lack of skill.

“Thank you, Oracle” Ryuuko bowed after finishing her match with Robin, an intense sword fight having just finished. If she had truly wanted to she could have ended it by cutting Robin’s katana but she found it both dishonorable and the easy way out considering they were testing skill sets. On the other side of the room was Red Robin and Roi Singe’s fight, bo-staff against bo-staff, being monitored by Black Bat.

“Oh kwami” Ladybug whispered as she and Chat Noir were called for the next match… against Batman and Batwoman.

“This is where we die Noir”

“It’s been an honor m’lady”

The fight had been entertaining, each side coming in with an array of attacks. At first the Bats had played offensive with the Miraculous duo playing defensive, dodging Batarangs and all their little gadgets. The Bats hadn’t expected just how durable the simple looking yo-yo and staff would be or any of its features.

At some point there had been a flash bomb, Chat Noir blocking it from Ladybug and getting temporarily blinded, Batwoman had planned on attacking while he was disoriented however the attack amplified his enhanced hearing, extending his staff and tripping her in the process.

In the end the Bats had won but it had been a close victory considering the Miraculous Team had not bothered to use their special abilities during any of the fights.

As they were taking a breather, resting and getting drinks, Robin spoke up.

“How are you allowing your city to step all over you?” Team Miraculous looked at him briskly before Red Hood, of all people, continued for him.

“We’ve seen the reports and the Parisian news, they’re relying on your team of four, considering they aren’t aware of the others, to be there to solve all their problems”

“It’s okay for your people to put so much trust in you but it's gotten to the point where they expect it of you” Robin concluded.

“I’ve tried telling them” Viperion sighed, facing his group “We really should be leaving Paris to handle their own problems, we’re busy enough in civilian life and akuma fights as it is”

“How do you suppose we do that when we already face scrutiny for not dealing with Akumas fast enough?” Chat Noir asked, his tail flickering behind him.

“You could always stop patrolling in broad daylight if you don’t want to leave the city altogether” Red Robin suggested, “Hiding in the night is easier to avoid any authority or anyone trying to get interviews. Plus this way it's less predictable where you’ll be certain hours of the day”

“He does make a good point” Ladybug said, mostly to herself, before nodding “I think it's a good idea”

“You heard her team,” Chat Noir turned to face the others “All for stopping daylight patrol?”

All of them nodded in agreement, the beginning of a long list of necessary changes in their lives.

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“My father is planning a press conference to talk about his ‘concerns’ with the lack of your appearances” Chloe rolled her eyes. A year ago, after the Heroes’ Day Disaster, she and Carapace had chosen to stand down while Rena was ultimately retired. She’d found out about Adrien when she went for a visit only for him to jump in through the window.

It was awkward between the two of them before they called for Ladybug.

She gave her neutral face of disappointment first before making a plan.

They were all aware that Lila must have been the one to start the disaster, being Volpina was the only explanation, as Ladybug confessed that Lila had a vendetta against her. Chloe also figured she must have been lying, something she had already suspected before, about being in another country considering Hawkmoth’s attacks only stayed in Paris.

Due to Chloe’s secret identity being out in the open they realized Hawkmoth wouldn’t be above targeting her family again. Thus Chloe became Ladybug’s spy.

Meanwhile in civilian life Nino was getting tired of Alya and Lila’s antics, especially the ones against his bros Adrien and Marinette. Well more against Marinette and more sexual harassment/getting together with Adrien. That’s not even touching on their newest content on the blog which was just criticizing the Miraculous Team for all their weaknesses and shortcomings, in the guise of offering “suggestions” on how to get better.

They thought it’d be good to have an inside man, someone who could warn them of anything Lila and Alya might come up to.

They were both the secret members of Team Miraculous.

“Holy shit are you serious?” Nino exclaimed in Chloe’s room. They’d all come in secretly and by different entries to meet up in case certain nosy classmates had spotted them.

“Yep, I may or may not have threatened my father with a lawsuit against his violation of child labor laws and me not receiving my paychecks” Adrien said excitedly.

Chat Noir had made an off-hand comment on how his father had tired him out with a packed work schedule. This resulted in prodding from the mother hen known as Nightwing asking for details which ended in Chat Noir confessing that he works for his father’s company, had been homeschooled most of his life and often had a packed schedule full of extracurriculars, including up to around 12-hour work days sometimes. Turns out with that brief information Oracle informed them that his father was violating child labor laws due to the fact that he had worked more than thirty five hours a week since he was fourteen.

“Holy shit” he’d say in awe at the moment “My father is rich though… who knows if this would even go through with his influence”

“No man is truly above the law” Nightwing had given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “But… is everything alright in your home life?”

“I- I shouldn’t say anything that reveals my identity… '' the usually chaotic boy said solemnly, his cat ears downcast.

“Chat Noir,” the group turned to Ladybug, the one who’d help introduce her team to the life of masks and magic “Your own safety is much more important than keeping your identity safe. We both know the kind of person your father is… I’d rather you have the best options possible to face this”

“How come you’re so fast to trust us?” Robin asked, surprised but keeping a stern face.

“You do realize that she has the coordinates to this place, right?” Viperion smirked “She’s known who you are for a while and never mentioned anything. We just expect you to return the courtesy”

“That seems about right” Red Robin sighed before taking off his mask, the others of the Bat Clan following suit. Team Miraculous gave Ladybug one last look before dropping their own transformations, some of them looking familiar to the Gothamites.

“Marcus is that you my boy?” Agent A, otherwise known as the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth made his way to MultiMouse who nodded shyly.

“I actually go by Marc now great-uncle Alfred”

“Wait what, Al has siblings?” Stephanie exclaimed, Jason was whispering for Tim to write it down in The Book.

“Yes, an older half-sister” he said with an impeccable raised brow “I would have never thought you’d follow after my footsteps Marc”

“I guess it does run in the family”

“Adrien Agreste! Like son of the fashion mongul Gabriel and late actress Emellie Grande de Venily?!” Stephanie exclaimed as soon as she focused on the blonde teen.

“Yep” was all he could find himself saying, taking comfort in Marinette’s presence next to him.

“Don’t worry Adrien,” the boy looked up to the slightly intimidating looming figure of Bruce Wayne “We’ll help you deal with your father”

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“Boys” Bruce had said as soon as he entered the living room, where the group had devolved into a video game competition. “Remember tomorrow is your monthly therapy session”

“Already?” Damian groaned, his brothers, with the exception of Dick, looking like they would rather not go.

“Timmy isn’t prepared to face his inner demons”

“And it seems Timmy hasn’t slept in some time again, hasn’t he?” Luka teased, continuing to run his hand through Tim’s hair, the boy practically purring in response.

“You have a therapist?” Marinette asked Bruce skeptically.

“We’ve all… gone through things growing up. Alfred made me realize that we were all in need of some help”

“And do you umm… talk about your nightly activities?”

“They’re trustworthy and confidential, yes”

“Do you think you could give me their information?”

That’s how Team Miraculous found themselves on the day after another akuma attack, in a private room within Wayne Tower, each waiting their turn to see the doctor.

“You’ve been through alot Luka” the teen was lying on his back, facing the ceiling as the psychologist who worked with Bruce talked. “Losing what you’ve come to accept as your family, watching your friends die, even though you knew you could change the outcome. Doing it over and over again in order to save the city… It's not something anyone could be expected to handle, let alone a child your age”

“I… I know Dr.Quinzel. But I can’t allow myself to feel guilty over everything or even get overly emotional. If Hawkmoth found out it’d be a disaster, especially because Marinette trusted me with the miraculous… the first for her to assign full time as the Guardian…. I can’t let her down” Luka gave her a lost look, one rarely seen on the charming boy before.

“Keeping all of that inside… It could fester up and explode if you’re not careful Luka”

“So you’re telling me that you are perfectly fine with how your life at home is going, Nathaniel? Even after everything we’ve discussed”

“Look I’ve tried telling my parents they were wrong but they just keep saying I’m confused, not to mention think my art is a joke… and maybe they’re right”

“Those are important parts to who you are. Saying that would be like considering yourself a mistake… Do you feel that way Nathaniel?”

“I…”

“I think I have pretty bad taste in girls, though my friends usually call me a himbo for not really thinking things through. Maybe I should think before acting more?”

“I’ve known I was going to become Bunnix ever since I was fourteen, it was always just a matter of when. So when I was finally called to action I was so excited but… I can’t help but wonder if I’m cut out for this”

“My mother has groomed and taught me to be perfect at all I do. It was something ingrained to me since I was a child; It wasn’t until recently that I learned that is impossible to achieve. Why was mother so pertained to me being it?”

“I know I’m the smart guy but I shouldn’t be expected to have all the answers, especially for my classmates who refuse to look at evidence as it is. Seriously, if I had known they would have taken my comment about how dangerous a napkin can be as pure fact then I would have not said anything that day”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for my grandmother. She’s getting older, she’s starting to forget a lot. I help by telling her things like stories but I’m not sure how long that will last… She’s the only family I have left in Paris, I don’t want to leave my friends or boyfriend behind”

“My father has always been a distant man but ever since my mother… I’m not sure if he even sees me as his son at this point. There are some days I’m treated as nothing more than a trophy boy or a regular employee. I wonder if this would have happened regardless of my mother’s passing”

“I am Ladybug, I am also the last Guardian. But I’m just a teenager! I have a life I want to live outside of Paris… I want to be a designer, start my own brand, find love and have my own family… But Hawkmoth is in the way of all that”

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“Are you sure about this LB?” Nino asked from the terrace of Chloe’s penthouse. They’d been talking strategy when an Akuma attacked, given the chaos displayed by the news via LadyBugOut livestream, they could only assume it was another Volpina attack.

Unfortunately Volpina had a Sentimonster to help, Reality Check. A glorified 3D printer who could temporarily make Volpina’s illusions tangible and real.

It had proven to be a difficult battle, especially since Luka and Adrien had been caught up as civilians and couldn’t help Ryuuko and Ladybug. The others still had to wait for Ladybug to give the signal before they’d consider going out to help in broad daylight lest their hidden cards be revealed too soon.

In the middle of the fight the two heroines had made a strategic retreat, one the Fox Tea blogger did not hesitate to call the coward’s way out. Suddenly the two appeared at Chloe’s along with Roter Fochs. The scarlet hero had taken out two familiar boxes with extremely familiar jewelry inside.

“I’m certain of it” she said with a determined smile, “Besides this could finally get Hawkmoth and maybe even Alya off your backs if I introduce new heroes; Of course your costumes will have to be different, as will your codenames, but I trust that you’ll know what to do”

“Hello my queen!”

“What’s up dude”

Paris was in uproar when they heard of the new heroes; Abeille and Anselm.

Abeille’s costume was much more armored than that of Queen Bee’s; the whole suit had a honey yellow bodysuit with black armor pieces, her chest piece in the shape of a bee’s face, black elbow length gloves with some honey stripes, thigh high black boots with honey kneepads. Her own mask was different from her former as it changed her eyes to royal blue like Pollen’s while being honey colored with black v shaped lines. The golden gauntlets on top of her gloves would be able to send out small shocks, capable of stunning enemies for small intervals at the time, nowhere near as potent as Venom.

Anselm’s own attire was not so different from Carapace; Anselm still kept the hoodie his predecessor did though beneath it is where the differences began. Anselm wore a pine green helmet, yellow tinted goggles on top of his red eyes, with pale thin daffodile lines going from the top to the bottom of his hood. The hoodie and his undersuit was sacramento green, bordering on black, though the majority of the suit was also armored with pine pieces like the hexagonal chest piece, shoulder, thigh, shin, knee and elbow pads. He also had much thicker gauntlets than Abeille’s along with armored gloves and reinforced sneakers.

Of course, Chloe Bourgeois and Nino Lahiffe were quickly off of the suspect list when the two were spotted separately looking for shelter amongst the Akuma attack during Fox Tea’s livestream.

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“So you’re part of the OG Team huh?” Stephanie asked as she gave a once over to the two newcomers.

“Deep undercover missions, you know how they go” Abeille scoffed, her honey blonde hair swaying along with her five black streaks around it.

“What she said. We couldn’t help as Queen Bee and Carapace anymore, compromised identities, so we helped as civilians before covering our tracks and coming back” Anselm tried to keep back Chloe’s prickly personality.

“Like what?” Cass’ appearance startled the two, though both looked like they were about to draw out their weapons.

“Well I get them intel from what’s happening in the mayor’s office that Max and Markov can’t get out from the computers, daddy is a bit of a pushover and squeals pretty easily”

“While I get intel from Fox Tea’s disastrous dude duo. I’m usually among the first to find out about anything their plotting… though I’ve had to drop that. It was getting too much for me to continue being with Alya so we broke up”

“So you kept dating Cesaire just to gather intel? Doesn’t that seem manipulative?” Duke asked from his seat on the monitor, the two Parisians looked at one another before beginning to laugh.

“Not compared to what those two are capable of”

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“Are you sure about this?”

Currently Viperion, Ladybug and Bunnix were on the Gotham rooftops, shadowing the Bats for the night. The three were honored to be trusted with the responsibility but still felt foreign in the much darker environment, literally and metaphorically.

“It’ll be a good experience” Oracle said in their ears, their comms being synced to those of the Bats “And you won’t be alone, I’ll be here and so will your partners”

Right on cue Robin, Red Robin and Black Bat landed on the same rooftop. The plan was for the six to cover the patrol for the night, the others would be getting rest or doing specialty training with their abilities. It was a surprise for the Miraculous gang when it was revealed that Signal and Red Hood would be joining them as fellow trainees. Alfred and Black Canary, a metahuman who often worked together with Green Arrow in Central City, would be in charge of the training while Bruce also oversaw their progress.

Honestly they hadn’t known what surprised them more: the fact that Batman had metas on his team or that he trusted other heroes with the training of his children.

“It should be a regular night; standard mugging, gang fights and possible robberies should be all that happen tonight”

Of course that was not what happened.

As it turned out Riddler had escaped Arkham, no surprise, and had gone too long without his medication. Edward Nygma was usually a pretty tame man, if a little eccentric with his love of riddles and his brilliant mind.

He decided to hold Gotham Grand Terminal hostage.

Ladybug was decidedly trying not to panic as she saw the very obvious bombs spread across different sections of the terminal. There were too many for them to deactivate in less than three minutes and there were probably more hidden around.

“Riddle me this; What is Joan of Arc made of ?” Ladybug and Robin were the first to arrive at the scene, Viperion and Red Robin being the closest to coming as back up. Robin seemed as confused as she felt but decided to really think about it…

This was so stupid.

“Maid of Orleans” the look Robin gave her, like she just made the most foolish decision of her life, was seen spread across the faces of hostages before Riddler began to laugh.

“Why you are correct, little red” he wiped a tear from his eye “Bats would never think of something so punny like that!”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of experience with annoying puns”

“What’s colorful, loud and is a mess to clean up?” Ladybug’s eyes widened as he pressed the big red button on the remote control, Robin bringing Ladybug down and shielding her as the hostages began to scream.

BOOM!

“...Confetti cannons” Ladybug muttered, her whole body covered in the colorful paper pieces with glitter in the mix.

That son of a bitch!

It was April 1st.

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“So what is it that we’ll be doing?” Bunnix asked as Black Bat silently leaped through the Gotham rooftops, camouflaging effortlessly with the shadows unlike her because of the white and baby blue costume she had on.

“You two will be checking up on Red Hood’s sector for the night, Crime Alley” Oracle’s voice responded for her.

“Right, so is this just a standard patrol?”

“Something like that”

Bunnix was admittedly a bit nervous about being with Black Bat, Cass didn’t really talk much and was kinda hot. Bunnix had just dutifully shadowed her, staying as quiet as she could even if she did more parkour than necessary, when they stumbled upon a drug deal. Bunnix was about to go down to smack some people around with her umbrella when Black Bat shook her head.

“One of Red Hood’s men, let’s wait to see the deal go through”

Bunnix wasn’t sure what to think as she watched the deal go down. Weren’t they supposed to be the ones to stop this from happening and not helping them? It was a bit confusing and against her moral code…

“We do this to keep the kids out of the involvement” Oracle seemed to read her mind, explaining their reasoning “Before Red Hood decided to get involved with drug trafficking Crime Alley was full of children who would be taken advantage of by dealers; whether it meant getting them addicted or becoming their messengers and delivery boys. He made it very clear to his ‘allies’ that no child from Crime Alley was getting involved in their plans again or else the deals were off. Those who tried going above him… well they’re no longer around to try and take him down”

Still that did not help ease Alix’s worries as the night continued on. Black Bat came to a sudden stop on top of a warehouse, gesturing for Bunnix to follow behind her, and climbing in through a shattered window. Inside were dozens of wooden crates, each with cameras pointed at them and only one with an open lid. Black Bat walked towards the open crate with ease, going inside and taking out three duffle bags from inside. She placed two on her, criss-crossing each other before handing the other one to a reluctant Bunnix.

The tow then headed to a hidden tunnel underneath one of the empty crates, making their way in a closed (?) Gotham sewer. It didn’t smell as disgusting as Alix imagined it would be, musky at best, though she thought that it may be due to the fact that there was no dirty sewage water there. They walked in relative ease, essentially walking for what had to be at least 15 minutes in numerous twists and turns before reaching a ladder. The two got out, Bunnix recognizing it as part of Crime Alley with how run down the area looked.

Black Bat knocked on a rusting steel door, three times, five, once and then a tap with her palm.

The door opened up, a boy no older than 12 being the ones to greet them.

“Where’s R.H?” he questioned, he looked disappointed but not alarmed, clearly he had met Black Bat before.

“Was busy. This is Bunnix, she’s helping for the night” The boy was clearly unimpressed with her but he closed the door and led them down the long hallway. She noticed the few scattered toys along the way, with some open doors showing mountains of writing supplies and even a little library.

What was this place?

“This is Red Hood’s sanctuary for the kids of Crime Alley” Black Bat whispered next to her “Batgirl and Red Hood are usually the ones to come here though all of us have come at some point.” they entered the large room showing children of all ages, some as young as infants and others looking close to early adulthood. They dropped the duffle bags in front of what she thought was the leader of the pack when Red Hood wasn’t around.

They were filled with non-perishable food, wads of money that will probably be used to provide for the group of 30 or even more for the next month, toys, books and some new clothes.

As the children gathered around, each a little dirtier than Alix remembered ever being as a child, lining up to get a new something that Red Hood got for them she couldn’t help but think;

… Maybe things were never so black and white.

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“I know it may seem frightening, even unnerving, to let go of your control but if you keep your powers bottled up it may prove to be disastrous in the future” Black Canary told the group of teens.

“With abilities bestowed to you like those of the Miraculous are left untrained then it may prove to lead to your downfall” Alfred nodded along to Dinah’s words.

“As capable as Ms.Lance and I are, we have realized that we would need further assistance to properly be able to train each of your abilities”

From one of the Batcave’s entrances they could hear the screech of tires before a slick black car parked next to the Batmobile and Hoodcycle.

“Sorry, we’re late” a red headed woman said as she stepped out of the car, her pale freckled skin slowly gaining a green tint to it as she removed her lab coat and glasses, “Selina here thought she could make a quick steal on our way here”

“Oh c’mon Pam, you know you love the rush as much as I do” a tanned woman laughed, twirling around a golden necklace with one of the biggest rubies they had ever seen in its center.

“Now, ladies; Pam-a-lamb has a class of powered kids to teach” they recognized Dr.Quinzel belatedly as she was missing her glasses and uniform. She was now wearing a much more colorful array of clothes with the consistent theme of red,black, and white. Her skin seemed paler than they remembered and her blonde hair had red tips on one side and blue on the other.

“Hey girls” Barbara came down the elevator at the same time as Stephanie and Cass, seemingly cutting their conversation when she saw the newcomers”

“Babs!” Dr.Quinzel exclaimed, making her way to the other girls after giving a quick kiss to the green skinned woman.

“Well you’re right on time Pam” Dinah sighed, cocking her hip before pointing at the newcomers “These are Dr.Pamela Isley otherwise known as the Gotham Rogue Poison Ivy, Selina Kyle a more vigilante type thief Catwoman, and, of course, you know Dr.Harleen Quinzel or as she prefers to go by Harley Quinn”

“Hey kittens” Selina waved at the group “By the way it's been too long since we girls have hung out; how’s about a Birds of Prey raid? You in?”

“Only if Oracle agrees”

“Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Stephanie and Harley’s persistent pleading could be heard immediately afterwards. A polite cough interrupted the chaos.

“As enthusiastic as you ladies are for your plans, may I remind you that we have prior plans to care for first. Namely the training”

“Sorry Alfie” Harley said, chastised, “We’ll get out of your hair. C’mon ladies!”

“...So training?” Marc asked

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“What happened to you?” was the first thing Kim laughed out as the duo stepped into the cave, leaving a trail of confetti and glitter behind. Marinette looked back at her team, unimpressed, in their own state of disarray.

Chloe, Max, Marc and Nathaniel seemed to be nursing their own cases of migraines; most likely having pushed the limits of their own new abilities which relied on mental fortitude. Chloe and Jason’s powers were the most similar to Alfred’s which involved manipulating and projecting thoughts and ideas to the people around them or to specific targets. Nathaniel was developing the power to create illusions that only his target would be allowed to see. Marc could create intangible clones of himself but could still project what they were seeing and hearing to him. Max could teleport objects a few meters away from or towards him.

Kagami, Kim, Adrien and Nino seemed the most physically exhausted. Kagami was beginning to have slight control of fire, wind and water but not yet conjuring it; given her slight burn marks, wet clothes and messy hair Marinette would guess that she still hadn’t fully grasped the manipulation aspect outside of being Ryuuko. Kim’s own face was dirty and slightly bruised and matched that of Adrien’s. Kim had begun to use his chaotic energy to make the wackiest things happen but to have the outcome he wanted while Adrien could suck the luck out of people for small intervals lest he want to have the misfortune backlash cling on him. Nino’s was more tame though he now had to focus on two things since he could now use his energy to both heal and to create a shield that encompased his body like armor.

“Oh god you guys look like messes!” Alix laughed along with Luka, the only two that looked fine as they had a fairly tame patrol with Cass and Tim.

“Next time I see Riddler remind me to throw a glitter bomb” Marinette grumbled as she made her way to the showers.

“Not before I stab him with his stupid cane” Damian growled heading for the male showers.

“So how long till Daminette guys?” Adrien asked

“Definitely before the end of the year” Duke concluded, the others not being sure if he used his power or not.

“I’ll take you up on that. I’ll bet we make more money than with Red Scales” Stephanie laughed.

“Red Scales?” Luka asked curiously before the others yelled out.

“Nothing!”

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“Okay how come no one warned me about that!” Jason yelled as he came out of the Cave’s entrance. The group either gave questioning or amused looks.

“Oh, so you saw that too?” Alix asked, perched from one of the sofa’s armrests.

“You assholes could have given me a heads up” he complained before groaning into a sofa “God, someone get me some bleach”

“What’s Jaybird talking about?” Dick asked, coming in from the kitchen with an array of snacks for the rowdy bunch of teeneagers.

“Oh just Timbers getting some with the big bad snake boi” Stephanie sang, causing Jason to groan and Dick to choke on his own spit.

“More like trying to eat each other’s tongue out” Nathaniel responded in disgust.

“Timmy, no!” were the words the oldest yelled out before heading into the Batcave in record time.

“Anyway,” Stephanie began “It’s time to pay up bitches. Marinette and Cass get the loot”

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“Hmm, so I guess that’s what fresh blood splatters looks like” Chat Noir said in morbid interest.

“Well it's certainly more noticeable than dried blood” Viperion nodded along, watching as Red Robin and Red Hood carried out the interrogation from a one-way mirror. There was a new gang who specialized in child trafficking, most of the kids coming from Crime Alley and therefore not getting reported to the police; luckily they had Red Hood looking out for them.

“Yes, well we are here to see how they carry out their investigation and get used to all the squeamish things” Ladybug gave a calculated look, as though she herself were in there and what she would do to get the information out of the man they captured earlier that night.

“Do you guys think this sort of thing is going too far?” MultiMouse asked curiously, he was beginning to grow a bit uncomfortable with the amount of blood the man had begun to lose.

“I mean this asshole deserves it” Roter Fochs glared “I don’t think it's too much if it means saving all those kids”

“Standing on the edge of what is seen as a hero𑁋”

BANG

“Let’s you see all the things you can’t from the center” Ryuuko watched as the man was forcibly being held back up by Red Robin after Red Hood slammed his face on the interrogation table.

“World is not black and white” Black Bat spoke from next to them “Many shades of gray in between; We are in the gray”

Ko-Fi

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cosplayswitzerlandaskblog · 4 years

Text

Unlike last time Hetalia got a new season, the response has not been particularly positive, and I’m seeing a lot of twisted feelings towards the show and the fandom to a point where it seems long time content creators are stepping away from it. I know anyone still active who follows me either are or were fans of Hetalia, so it should be relevant for all y’all.

As a fan who never fell out of the show, I find the response sad though healthy, and even if I know I ghosted you all on tumblr (sorry) because of time constraints and mental health, I still make the occasional CMVs. Fact is, I do not let go of special interests very easily. It seems a lot of you all started watching the show at 10-14 years old, where I myself was a bit older – 17 – and had grown a bit more. Long story short, my Naruto phase was your Hetalia phase, and no, it’s not pretty. You’re young and stupid and don’t know much critical thinking and make mistakes, and you have to forgive yourself for those mistakes, especially when the content you consume is associated with the real world in a sensitive subject.

But after seeing all these posts explaining all the bad we see from Hetalia, I wanted to make a post explaining what I learned from it – all the good that can come with a show like this if you stay aware of perspective. I am not excusing all the bad that came with it, for WWII is a serious event in history that should never be forgotten nor made fun of, but here goes:

I went from a ‘war-is-cool’ history buff to one who truly delved in and learned the intricacies of history, being fascinated with the ‘hows’ and the ‘whys’ as well as getting an excuse to look at the histories of nations which I’d never otherwise be interested in, and I know a lot of other people in the fandom did the same. This is how history should be known, as that is how we can truly apply it to the real world.

I learned to separate people from their countries. To give an example that’ll hit close to much of tumblr, when I started Hetalia I hated Americans with a passion because of the road “you” had put the world on, and I considered all y’all dumb and bad as a cause of it. Getting that excuse to take an ACTUAL look at how your nation functioned and what communities truly hid behind the borders, I learned instead that your government is corrupt as shit, your society is rigged against you and you have been forced to stand by and watch as chaos happens. It got applied to the world as a whole, where I considered other nations being as dynamic as my own, with people both good and bad, and the actions of the nation is even less of a reflection of the people in the cases of corrupt democracies or dictatorships.

I separated from Colonial world views. I was never actively racist, brought up in a proper home, and already before Hetalia I fiercely protected the rights of Muslims who are often mistreated in my nation and tried to hear them out when possible. But I was a Westerner, and even if the nation I came from had barely participated in invasions, I had learned to consider my culture ‘correct’ and native and African cultures ‘primitive’. While the journey was long, a step wise process of realizing things like there was nothing inherently ethically wrong eating dogs or partially incubated duck eggs, only in how the animals were acquired, that cultural progress is heavily dependent on perspective and that fucking genocide of native peoples still happen in this damn century, Hetalia was the stepping stone which gave me the interest in other nations to expand my world view. I probably ain’t done here – I have a whole life of outside influences to unlearn – but I’m further than most people I know in my near surroundings, and I’ve even managed to move my parents who originally taught me to respect people of all kinds in the first place.

I learned Nazis were people. This is a conversation which often comes up here on tumblr, and the demonization Nazi Germany and its government directly allows actual Nazis and fascists like Richard Spencer a free pass because they look groomed and proper. Until then, I’d simply assumed no one was ‘stupid enough to be a Nazi’ because of the atrocities of WWII and therefore looked at the world naively. Realizing how little true support Nazis had during WWII and similarly anyone could end down that pungent rabbit hole, I became careful of what I excused on social media and allowed myself to doubt seemingly normal people if their behaviour was alarming – such as the police man who is supposed to be a damn ‘hero’ of society.

I learned how to deal with material sensitive to others. A common problem in the fandom has always been the cosplaying and portrayal of Nazis, especially at cons and the like, and in a similar vein – I did blackface once because of Hetalia. The horrible thing about this is that blackface is immensely common in Europe – at least my own country – and blackface frequently happens at schools during ‘international’ events, where whole classrooms are assigned to portray a designated country. A whole of two times – in 6th grade as well as 2nd grade of high school – I was exposed to blackface as my class was given an African nation to portray – Somalia the first time, Kenya the second. No one, adult, teen or child, are aware of the history of race imitation in my country, but by the second time I was supposed to participate in dressing up as an African tribe, I’d understood the issue – thanks to Hetalia. My friend group of white, privileged, European teens discussed what symbolism was appropriate at cons or in videos – could we wear the Iron Cross? The Nazi flag? What if we burned it during the video? These thoughts are not usually a part of the mind of European youth, and I consider that a grave problem which leads to people making fun of ‘triggers’, downplaying racial issues and the like.

It offered me a means to make history personal. The biggest struggle for good history teachers and the reason we are often made to read and write letters from the periods we study is to make it seem real and get a emotional connection to these past, lost peoples. Hetalia offered puppets for me to place into historical contexts to make them truly real – the main driver pushing me away from mere fascination of war, since I suddenly felt the horrors of warfare through the characters that I loved. Things like Elizabeth I’s court, the conquests of Rome, the dissolution of the Kalmar Union, the battlefield of Somme, the invasion of America, damn slavery becomes different when something you already know is a part of it and you can see them in there. Hearing of people of the past should in itself be enough, and for the closest parts of history (WWII and afterwards) it always was for me, but we are human. We cannot understand the size of a billion, and we struggle understanding the lives of those living centuries before us, unless we are offered context.

I’m not blind to the issues of the fandom or the show. I was here for ‘the r*pist, the pervert and the p*dophile’, I know of South Korean and Chinese issues with the show, and I heard the gassing joke in the show’s dub and got nauseous from discomfort and anger. I’ve always been in the fringe of the fandom due to my social disabilities, so I don’t know everything that happened, but I’ve seen many racist OCs and disrespecting of historical sites. It’s not pretty, but I will believe these people, who were likely young, likely learned in time. And I may have been able to learn these things by other means, but not in the same way, and not through personal interest and research that’s helped me become sceptical and analysing of the world around me.

At its core, Hetalia is about watching a normal, nerdy guy learn how to draw, using stereotypic country personifications mainly from the perspective of Japan. It’s natural he chooses Japan, since he’s Japanese, and WWII is unfortunately the automatic historical event for most common people to focus on – but Hetalia doesn’t even solely focus on that, but is an amalgamation of vaguely correct historical situations played out by the characters, and often it is with the intent of comedy rather than the grimness often associated with historical settings which allows a wider audience than merely history nerds.

What I want you all to do is learn from your mistakes and forgive your younger selves for not knowing better. Maybe reflect on what you got from the show, rather than what you lost. A new generation of young Hetalians is likely coming with the new season, and us old timers might be able to help them avoid pitfalls if we stay around to teach them. The best of the show is compassion towards the people of the world combined and love of history, as I believe Hima wanted it – the worst is Nazi apologetics and racial stereotyping. We decide in what direction we take it, and what lessons we bring into the future.

TL;DR: As a lot of media intended for older audiences, Hetalia is a show which has to be watched critically, which makes it dangerous for young people to watch unhinged, but it also opens up for interest in the world beyond the borders you live within. We should be aware of the issues and learn from them, but in and of itself the show has a lot of good to offer in learning compassion for other nations and cultural groups.

#impressive how active I've become these last weeks #I kinda feel embarrassed #but Hetalia is coming back #and a lot of people are feeling dread because of it #my own feelings are mixed #but Hetalia is was gave me friends and started expanding my world view #other people might get a similar benefit from it #and I want them to have the chance #I'd love to hear the opinions of others tho #also #welcome to my usual iconic long posts

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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DWD Reviews: Dry Hard or The One and Only Liquidator.. Episode.

Happy Birthday Liquidator! I nearly missed this, I procrastinated a bit too much, but thankfully I got this in time for the anniversary of Dry Hard. Now technically, by airing order LIquidator first showed up in “Just Us Justice Ducks”buuuuuut since that applies for a good chunk of the first appearances there, I choose to go with his first chronological appearance instead. So i’m breifly dipping back into the road to just us justice ducks for one quick review before getting back to life and times and three cabs. Thankfully there’s only one major Disney Birthday next month, and it’s Panchito, so I can fold it into the ride of the Three Caballeros, and hopefully by then i’ll be into the legend of the three cabs itself. But enough insight into my creative process let’s talk about Dry Hard and ole Liquidator himself? I won’t be doing my usual play by play.. partly due to time constraints, as I got to this review far later than intended due to a bungled sleep schedule and another, real world stuff related project I wanted to finally get done. And partly because this episode, while excellent, is pretty simple in it’s plot and being more of a comedy episode, as most Darkwings are honestly, ther’es no real space to dig into a lot of character stuff and most of it would be spent saying “that’s really funny”. And if i’m going to be doing more Darkwing reviews, and try and branch out into more comedy shows period, I’m going to need to try some things once in a while. The plot in short: It’s an incredibly hot day in St. Canard. While Drake is trying and failing to set up his new sprinkler system, he needs a 3/4 picniey flange as everyone keeps telling him, Gosalyin is profeteering and is in full “little shit” mode, offering consturction workers nearbye complimentary oversalted ships to get them to buy her lemonade. To make matters worse Bottled Water around the city is turning up gross, as is the tap water, we get a great bit with some yuppie valley girls over that, and an overly hot Darkwing, I mean he’s always hot but still, finds only two brands haven’t been poisoined. His and launchpad’s faviorite and one ran by Budd Fludd. Given his name and his schister apperance, it shouldn’t shock you Budd is behind things and while posioning his competitors and being confronted by darkwing, and acompanied by his two backup dancer’s/minons, he falls into the water, melts, jesus bud what’d you put in there, and seemingly dies. Naturally Darkwing isn’t that lucky, and instead it’s a super villian origin story as Budd has become the liquidator, and after giving Darkwing a through beatdown and Darkwing narrowly escaping turns all the city’s water hard, just go with it, to blackmail people into paying 5000 dollars for his product. Darkwing persues him, in a swim costume Liquidator chuckles at and compares to his cousin as seen above, and finally using that flange beats him temporarily.. and then for good when Bud shows up at his house, using wet cement to make his new foe into a statue. The reason for my brevity is this episode is the plot’s fairly simple.. but not bad at all. It provides a great origin for liquidator, and a creative foe for Darkwing to fight, one he can’t gas or punch and has to use clever tactics to fight, while Liquidator keeps pulling out new powers to fight back. But all make some logical sense, except for him being able to turn everything into hard water but hten we wouldn’t have a plot so kay, and up the stakes and his solution is both creative and makes sense given Darkwing was doing some work on the house,so the cement was well set up. It’s not bad by any means, in fact i’d call it excellent, it’s just a bit simplier than the last few episodes i’ve talked about and more about getting more gags and action in and given how creative and funnyt his one is I can’t complain. And character wise Drake is just being his usualy stubborn self, insiting he’s “the original mr.fixit’ when tha’ts clearly not true. It’s a simple standard comedy sueprhero setup: there’s a problme in their life, and solving that problem beats the bad guy. I’m mostly familiar with this sort of set up from the early 2000′s as the boom of teen hero shows really loved this trope and it’s generally a good one.

As for Liquidator himself.. he’s utterly fantastic. His pitch man gimmick is great, his minions, two sinigng showgirls who repeat what he says, are never not funny, and he himself has good banter with darkwing and intresting powers. It’s a shame this is his only solo apperance as the guy had a LOT of potential and most of the crew’s arguments... just kind of fall flat. 1) He’s too Powerful Then just scale him down like you ended up doing. The show has a wonky timeline and two diffrnet negaducks, it’s okay if a character comes back with less powers so you can use htem more. Just being able to shape himself and blast water is enough. You can remove his hydrokenisis with other water that isn’t part of him (though he could always gain the abliity to add more to him to keep it intresting), ablility to transmute water, ablility to boil himself, and abliity to turn into tiny gremlins when split up. No one would’ve carred for a good few decades and I would’ve understood. 2) His gimmick of talking like he’s out of a commerical is limited Not really. HIs debut had times where he talked normal and advertising has a long history. It’s TRICKY to write for but the payoff is a really funny runner. 3) Coming up with ways to defeat him This one’s a bit more understandable but as creative’s that’s your job, and there’s tons of ways to beat a water based foe, as spider-man can attest.

MY point with all that is, there’s a lot of ways around the issue set up here, and it’s a real waste of one of darkwing’s best foes. Especially since his origin is intresting, he has unique minions, and a REALLY cool apperance. That might of also been part of it: The liquidator is animated, to use a pun, very fluidily you can see his water bubbling when he stands sometimes and the animation is REALLY beautiuful and well done. So that easily could’ve been part of it: unlike the other villians he’s also harder to animate so they just went iwth theo nes they already had who were easier to deal with. It’s really a sad, wasted opprotunity and the character deserved better. So yeah overall, a fun, slight episode, with a great villian who again, deserved way better and could’ve been written around more. But if you have D+ check out Dry Hard. It’s a classic and if you haven’t checked out Darkwing it’s an excellent episode to gage wether you’ll like the series or not. Coming up we finally take a look at one of my faviorite Disney shows, House of Mouse, then dive back into scrooge’s life stoyr. Until then you can comission reviews for five bucks via a direct message on here or my discord, which is avaliable via my askbox. Until then, there’s always another rainbow.

#darkwing duck #drake mallard #liquidator #gosalyn mallard #launchpad mcquack #dry hard #reviews

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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 4 years

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Different Worlds (2)

Summary: You’re the youngest Winchester, a girl who needs to show her big brothers that she doesn’t need help. Then one day, on a totally normal vampire hunt that you had all under control, three meddling Avengers come barging in.

Warnings: language, violence, canon divergence, slow burn

Word Count: 2092

A/N: Part two is already here because I have no motivation to work on anything else!!

~*~

Chapter 2: Casper the Cannibalistic Spirit

It came to that.

The Feds were on your ass again. No thanks to Twiddle-Dee, Twiddle-Dum, and Twiddle-Dumber. Your brothers had left you in the bunker for a week while they went to Nebraska and Iowa for a couple of hunts.

Recently there were a couple of strange deaths over in Utah near the mountains. At least four bodies were found mutilated, cut open, and with bites missing. Sounds like your kind of fun so right now you were begging your brothers to let you go check it out.

“Please, please, please, please,” you repeated as you followed Sam around the bunker. Maybe you could annoy him enough that he’ll kick you out. “Pleeaasse! You know that you and Dean are being irrational. We’ve been wanted by the FBI before.”

“Yeah, but you’re also wanted by the Avengers. That’s new.”

“C’mon, Sammy.” You draped yourself dramatically over a table when Sam pulled a book off a shelf. “You of all people know how it feels to be put on the sidelines by a protective older brother.”

“What’s goin’ on in here?” the protective older brother in question asked when he walked in.

“(Y/N)‘s trying to go on a hunt.”

“Please.” You sat up and gave your brothers your best puppy dog eyes. “We can all go together.”

Your oldest brother sighed and said, “What were you looking at?” You smiled mischievously at his question and ran to get your computer from the other room. “That doesn’t mean I’m letting you come!” you heard him shout at your retreating back. “I just wanna know what you’re looking at!”

You made it back to your brothers, computer in hands, and slightly out of breath. Your brothers watched over your shoulders as you dramatically revealed your research.

“So,” you began. “Park City, Utah. Pretty popular tourist place, ‘specially in the winter for skiing and snowboarding. Four people,” you pulled up the news clips of their demise, “all tourists, found dead. Their bodies were totally fucked up. You have your usual mutilation and incisions, but what really intrigued me were the bites taken out of the bodies.”

“What could be up there?” Sam tucked his hair behind his ears and leaned in closer to your screen.

“We can all check it out.” You waited for an answer with anticipation.

“Fine. We’ll go in Baby,” Dean finally answered.

“Great!” You ran off to pack your duffle bag. “I call shotgun, Sammy!”

~*~

It’s been a week since the strange woman decapitated over a dozen people, and Bucky, Sam, and Steve haven’t gotten any closer to finding her. Of course, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had pulled up a juicy cocktail of information on her, but there has been no sign of (Y/N) Winchester, born (Y/N) (Y/L/N) before legally changing her last name.

Her mother had died in a house fire twenty-four years ago in 2000 when she was six. She seemed to vanish for almost twelve years until she, along with her two older brothers, showed up on the FBI’s most wanted in 2012. Bucky did the math. She would have been… eighteen? What happened in twelve years to make an eighteen-year-old girl go on a killing spree with her brothers. Who also happened to have more murders under their belts.

Bucky sighed and the file on the Winchesters on to his bed. He rubbed his eyes with his regular hand and when he looked up, Steve was standing in the doorway.

“Still looking for her?” The Captain nodded at the folder.

“She’s dangerous,” Bucky defended. “Deaths all over the country and she and her brothers are always there. Die in a way that isn’t a natural death and she’ll be there.”

“I wasn’t reprimanding you. I was just here to tell you to take a break.”

“Do you think,” Bucky paused before shaking his head. “Maybe she—they’re…”

“Hydra?” Steve supplied and his friend nodded. “I don’t know. It’s not that much of a spectacle. It’s also not secretive enough.”

“There’s still something going on with—“

Bucky stopped talking when Sam appeared next to Steve, slightly out of breath. The dark-skinned man took a deep breath before speaking.

“Some cameras caught them. (Y/N) and her brothers. In Utah.”

Bucky shot out of bed. “Let’s go.”

~*~

You tapped your foot as the elderly lady slowly scanned your groceries. Your brothers had sent you to the little store next to the motel for a couple of six-packs, candy, chips, and of course, some pie.

The motel room was low lit, especially with the heavy curtains drawn. You walked into the boy’s room, thankfully you didn’t have to share. The only time you did was when Jack came along. Right now Lucifer’s son was being taught angel things by Cas.

“I bring sustenance,” you shouted when you made your entrance.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Dean mumbled. Both of your brothers had their eyes completely focused on their computers.

“Guys,” Sam grabbed your attention. “So get this, each victim was staying in a house that was previously owned by these guys.” He displayed his screen. A photo of a man and woman was surrounded by newspaper text. “The Walkers.”

“So what was their deal?” You placed the groceries on a bed. “I’m assuming they're dead.”

“Yep. Mrs. Walker was stoned to death by some teenagers in 1972.” Dean whistled and shook his head at Sam’s words. “Mr. Walker hanged himself after her death.”

“Poor Mrs. Walker,” Dean said.

“Don’t pity her. The teens apparently killed her because the Walkers had kidnapped, tortured, killed, and ate one of their friends.”

“Guess that ‘splains the bites.” You began to prepare the salt bullets. “Think we have to deal with both of ‘em?”

“Where are they buried?”

“Uh, both in the field Mrs. Walker died in,” Sam read out loud. “The last property they owned and not killed in yet is close.”

“Here’s the plan,” Dean spoke. “Sam, you and I go salt and burn the bones. Need you to watch my back if Mrs. Cannibal decides to pay me a visit.” He turned to you and you straightened your back. “(Y/N), go to the house and see if anyone’s renting the place.”

You nodded and smiled. Back in the game.

“Hi there,” you greeted happily to the woman who opened the door to the Walker’s townhouse. “Can I ask you a few questions? What’s your name?” You heard the Impala drive away behind you.

“S-sure,” the woman said softly. “I’m Miss. Powell.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss. Powell.” Enough pleasantries. “Has there been anything strange happening in the house?” You took in her appearance: bags under her eyes and unwashed hair.

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I’m here to help. I believe you’re in danger. Can I come in?”

You got to work right away and made a salt circle on the ground. Spirits always thought they were the shit and always blew away the perfect circles you would always lay down, but today you were going to one-up the bitch. Before you sprinkled down the salt barrier, you had some liquid glue in your pack so you used that first.

“And that will stop the ghost?”

You had explained the situation to poor Miss. Powell. She was much more open-minded than some other people you had ‘worked’ with before. She, along with her young son Brad, sat in the center of the salt.

“If you stay inside the circle, the ghost can’t get to you.” You walked over to the fireplace and pointed at the poker. “Is that iron?”

“I-I think so.”

You grabbed it and handed it to her.

“If he gets too close for your liking, swing it at him. Should keep him at bay.”

“The ghost?”

“Or any man in general, I guess.”

Your remark got a small smirk out of the woman. Then, the lights started to flicker and the temperature in the room dropped low enough that you could see your breath.

~*~

Bucky, Sam, and Steve, all in uniform, ran up to the townhouse. Through the windows, they could see the lights flickering rapidly. Muffled shouts and what sounded like a child crying came from inside. What was she doing?

Steve tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t open. It wasn’t locked, Bucky could see the handle turn. They tried to break down the door next. It took the supersoldiers a couple turns each to finally open the front door.

Steve went in first, shield at the ready. Sam and Bucky stood on either side of him. Bucky’s eyes were immediately drawn to (Y/N) standing above a woman and a young boy with a shotgun in her hand. Then he noticed how cold the house was and the circle of white the three people were standing in.

“Hurry the flip up!” (Y/N) shouted. Was she talking to them? Bucky and Sam glanced at each other.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” The response came from a phone on the ground. It must be one of her brothers. “Mrs. Walker’s being a real pain in the ass!”

“Watch your language, Dean there’s a child present.” (Y/N) winked at the kid before she noticed she had company. “Uh, the three musketeers are here.”

Suddenly, a pale man with decaying flesh and a rope burn around his neck materialized in front of Steve. With practiced precision, (Y/N) fired her shotgun at the man. He disappeared and the round bounced off of Steve’s shield.

“What the—” before Bucky could swear, the man reappeared.

This time, Steve was ready and sliced him away with his shield. (Y/N) looked at the shield with a look of awe and confusion.

“What’s going on over there?” Her brother sounded winded and Bucky could make out gunshots from the other side of the call.

“Captain America’s special metal dinner plate can be used against Casper.” Bucky understood only half of the sentence (Y/N) spoke. “What are you doing here?” Now she spoke to the superheroes.

A strong wind blew through the house. (Y/N) smirked at shouted at the ceiling,

“Glue, fother mucker! Can’t get to us.”

The man appeared on the far end of the room, away from the Avengers. He raised his hands and the hardwood floor began to crack. (Y/N) fired her gun and the man disappeared once again. Unfortunately, the floor continued to pull away until the white circle was broken.

The man appeared next to (Y/N) and the next second, she was thrown into the nearest wall. Sam tried to shoot him, but the bullets only landed in the wall past him. The pale man turned to the woman and kid who both screamed. Bucky stepped forward and grabbed at him with his vibranium hand. The man dissipated again.

“(Y/N)?” Her brother was shouting through the phone. “(Y/N), what’s going on there? You said the Avengers were there?”

(Y/N) ignored her brother’s questions and shouted at the woman, “The poker!”

The fireplace poker flew through the air and reached her hand as the man revealed himself in front of her. (Y/N) swung it skillfully and he was gone again. She continued to glare at the three Avengers.

The man appeared in the middle of everyone right as (Y/N)’s brother’s voice shouted, “Got it!”

The pale man took one last lunge at the woman and her kid before he let out a scream and went up in flames. Everything in the house stood still as it warmed up and the lights settled. The only sounds were heavy breathing and soft cries from the boy.

(Y/N) scrambled to her phone. The three men surrounded her, they weren’t going to let her go again. Not without answers.

“Are you boys good?” She said into the phone.

“Yeah. Mrs. Walker put up a good fight though. Threw Sammy into a tree.”

“Would have loved to see that.” (Y/N) looked at the three Avengers. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Home? That’s—“

“Gotta deal with the musketeers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, bye.” She quickly hung up before her brother could protest any longer. Next, she looked at the woman and her son. “You guys okay?” They both nodded. “Sorry ’bout your floor.” Finally (Y/N) turned her attention to Bucky who was standing closest to her.

“You’re not going to leave,” Steve ordered behind her.

“Yeah, I got that,” she sighed. “I’m hungry. Wanna grab a burger?”

“Only if you’ll talk,” Sam requested.

~*~

Tag List (strike though means tag didn’t work):

@grav3dollie-666

#different worlds #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x winchester reader #mcu #marvel #supernatural marvel #marvel supernatural #supernatural #crossover #supernatural crossover #marvel crossover #dean winchester #sam winchester #sam wilson #steve rogers #bucky barnes #winchester reader

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imagineredwood · 4 years

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)

Warnings: Talk of dysfunctional families

Word count: 2.9k

***Story lines are splitting and developing 💖***

Camila smiled and put down her coffee cup as the sound of engines hit her ears. She stood from her seat and walked to the front door, pulling it open so that she could wait for the boys. The bikes pulled into her driveway one by one and she laughed softly to herself as she imagined Eddy losing his shit next door. They all filed in and Camila could see that Letty was on the back of Coco’s bike. Her smile returned, having thought that the teen just said yes since Cam was standing there and would’ve bailed. Yet here she was, climbing off the back of Coco’s bike and taking the helmet off, shaking her locks out. Angel, EZ, Gilly, Bishop, and Taza all climbed off of their bikes as well. Camila had thought it would just be Coco and Letty, with probably the Reyes brothers and Gilly tagging along. She hadn’t thought practically the entire crew would come, and the sight made her heart swell.

As a kid, she had always wished that she could have a normal family. A family where everyone loved each other and always made sure it was known. Where they spent time together and created happy memories. She had waited years for it to happen and it never did, so she had figured it would never happen. Yet here she was, men wearing leather and smiles coming up to her to hug her as they entered her home where she had made them feel welcome. They came up one by one, a hug and a kiss on the cheek as they walked in. Coco and Letty were to the back and he did the same. Letty stayed to herself though and Camila understood. She gave Letty a smile and placed her hand on her shoulder to give it a soft squeeze before removing it. Letty seemed to appreciate the distance and returned the smile with a small nod as she walked into the house. Now it was the brothers last and she opened her arms to them, both EZ and Angel wrapping her up in a hug. She reached up and left a kiss to both of their cheeks before letting go and letting them walk into her house behind the others.

She closed the door behind them and locked it up, turning around to find them huddled up at her counter.

“Go ahead.”

Everyone smiled and grabbed one of her baskets from the box she had in the corned by the sliding door and Taza looked back.

“Have you ever thought about maybe getting a shelf for these? Maybe to put outside so it’s easier for you to clean them?”

With a pout, Camila shook her head.

“No, I haven’t. That would be a hell of a lot easier.”

Taza grinned at her.

“I’ll look around, see what I can find.”

The boys all went outside then, and Camila watched them, finding Letty over toward the hall, looking at Camila’s altar. Smiling, she walked up behind the teen quietly. Letty heard her and looked back, pointing at the photo of Abuelita.

“That your grandma?”

Camila nodded and Letty turned back to the picture.

“She looks nice.”

“She was. Best woman I ever knew.”

Letty nodded and gave a small, sarcastic laugh.

“Can’t relate.”

Her words brought a frown to Camila’s face and she wanted to inquire but decided against it.

“Do you want a basket?”

Letty turned around and nodded, walking with Camila back to the sliding door that led out to the garden.

“Any preference?”

Letty looked over the wicker baskets, all a natural brown but with different colored ribbons tied around the handle and pointed to the one with the bright pink. Camila smiled and handed the basket to her.

“One of my favorites too. The yellow is the one I usually grab though.”

“I would ask if that was your favorite color but,”

Letty motioned around the living room and Camila looked. Yellow blanket on the couch, yellow stand mixer on the counter, yellow coffee cup on the coffee table. She gave a small laughed and so did Letty. Looking back over at her, Camila grabbed the handle of the sliding door and pulled it open, motioning for Letty to go out. She took a step over the threshold and looked around the garden.

“Woah.”

Coco smiled as he saw her reaction.

“Nice, huh?”

Letty nodded, her eyes flitting around as she looked at all of the vivid colors.

“How long had it taken you to do all of this?”

It was a good question and Camila had to stop and think. It was coming up on a year now and it shocked her. She hadn’t thought that amount of time had passed.

“Almost a year. I’ve had help though. EZ and Angel have done a lot of work with me, so it sped up the process.”

Letty took the answer and started walking into the garden looking down at everything while Camila watched her.

“A year already.”

Camila looked back at Coco and nodded, unable to contain her grin.

“Yep. Time flies.”

“It does.”

They were quiet again for a moment until Coco spoke once more.

“Do you think,”

He stopped and shook his head, looking conflicted with whatever he was going to ask her. Camila’s brows knitted together, and she reached over, tapping his shoulder.

“What’s up? Do I think what?”

Shrugging, Coco looked at Camila. The unsure look on his face wasn’t one she had seen before.

“I know it might be a lot to ask but do you think maybe you can hang out with Leticia? Not every day or anything, but just be around her a little? She’s just got a lot of shit on her plate and at home and I’m trying to do what I can but I think maybe her being around here with you, helping you garden or helping you out at the bookstore could be good for her. Maybe you two could bake some shit together or something. I don’t know. I just feel like maybe you can give her a place where she can do something, be productive, but be safe you know? Stay outta trouble.”

Camila nodded understanding what he was saying. She didn’t know anything about the kid, having just met her, but between her comment inside and Coco revealing she needed guidance, it was obvious that she maybe wasn’t exactly happy with how things were and as a result wasn’t making the best decisions. Camila didn’t want to judge, but she didn’t want to be naïve either.

“I don’t mind, but maybe give her some time to warm up to me. She may still be a minor, but she’s almost grown. I don’t want you to drop her off here and then she takes off and I have to send out a search party.”

Both laughed but Coco knew she was being somewhat serious, and her fears weren’t unrealistic. Nodding, Coco sighed.

“I’m just trying to do my best you know. I’m trying to spend more time with her, get her to have a more normal life. My mom is crazy and being close to her isn’t good for anybody.”

Camila laughed again and Coco looked over, eyeing her. She quickly held her hands up in defense.

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just laughing at how many times I’ve said the same shit. My mom was the same. Sometimes she was polite or on a rare occasion nice, but those times were few and far in between and more often than not she was just cold and detached. The only time she was warm was when people were looking. For me, my Abuela was the one that was really my mom in my eyes. My mom was toxic, still is, so I feel you.”

Coco nodded, thankful that she wasn’t laughing at him. It felt nice to have someone that understood and could relate. Having a better understanding of the situation now, Camila nodded.

“Let me get a little closer with her. Take her shopping or for coffee or something. Let her feel like she had a choice and if she’s game, I’ll hang with her as much as she’d like. OK?”

Coco agreed and leaned over, pushing his shoulder into hers softly. His smile was just as soft.

“Thanks, Cam. I appreciate it. I’ll talk to her.”

Coco gave her a last grateful look and then walked into the garden himself, following Letty and walking along side her. Camila watched from the porch, Coco pointing and picking strawberries with Letty, Taza gazing at the yellow butterfly that was perched on the stem of a tomato he was eyeing. She leaned against the pillar with a look on peace on her face as she watched the men walk around. It was finally fully donning on her that this was her family. That one that she had always dreamed for. A little unorthodox, sure, but a family nonetheless and she realized just how much things had changed since she’s moved her. She’d gone from the quiet, lonely girl in town that was unsure about everything to a woman who had a home made to her liking, a man that wanted to marry her, a job that she loved and a family to go with it. Abuelita had always said that she would have a life she was happy with, she just had to be patient and have faith and like always, she had been right. Looking over to the right, Cam looked at EZ who wasn’t actually picking anything, just looking around and enjoying the fresh air. His eyes raked over the garden feeling proud of his girl and continued looking around until they landed on Camila who was already watching him. He smiled and made his way back over to her, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist. She brought her hands up and placed them on his chest, softly massaging his collarbones and shoulders.

“What’s got you smiling so much?”

Shrugging, Camila looked around the garden once more before returning her eyes to meet his.

“Just how much my life has changed. How if I would’ve read the sign on your dad’s door, I wouldn’t have come in late and maybe would’ve never ended up in the position to meet you. Or to have any of this.”

Pouting, EZ reached up and ran his fingers through her hair, watching as the wave tumbled right back down to lay on her shoulder.

“You still would’ve had this garden whether you met me or not, preciosa.”

Shaking her head, Camila corrected him.

“I didn’t mean ‘this’ as in the garden. I meant a family.”

Her voice cracked slightly on the word family and EZ tugged her into his arms, one large hand cradling the back of her head as he spoke to her.

“Well it’s all yours now. You’re my Old Lady. Everything that’s mine is yours.”

Pulling away, she looked up at him.

“Old Lady?”

EZ laughed and nodded, taking her face into his hands.

“Yeah. Old Lady. Unless,”

“No, no! That’s just the first time you’ve said that.”

With a shrug, EZ smirked.

“Normally I guess I should’ve asked you first, but nothing is normal so what the fuck.”

Camila agreed with a nod and a smile, reaching up and pressing her lips to his.

“Call me your Old Lady more often.”

Nodding, EZ let his hands go back down to her waist, hands inching to her lower back and pressing her into him.

“Our anniversary is coming up.”

Camila’s eyes twinkled.

“I would say I’m surprised you remembered but what don’t you remember?”

The couple shared a laugh as well as a kiss and were interrupted by Angel coming up, wrapping his arms around their necks, damn near choking them as he dragged them into the garden.

“Come look at my plant, that shit got big as hell.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“Your hair looks nice.”

Karlene looked up from the floor, halting her mopping as she heard the older Reyes brother’s voice. She smiled immediately and shook her head, tossing her long hair around to show off the vibrant cherry red.

“Cam dyed it for me this weekend.”

Angel smiled and took a seat at the bar, in front of where she was mopping.

“You guys spend a lot of time together.”

With a nod, Karlene continued making her way around the stained floor.

“Yeah. She’s my best friend to be honest. She reminds me so much of my sister.”

Angel took a sip from his beer.

“I assume that’s a good thing.”

Karlene nodded enthusiastically and halted her mopping once more.

“The best. After my sister passed, I didn’t think I’d ever have someone that I could lean on like her. My sister was the best person I ever knew. She always looked out for me, protected me, made sure I was ok. I loved her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Cam is like that too and I’m thankful for her and that you guys have let me help out around here and with Vicki and just gave me a place to belong.”

She was out of breath by the time she finished, and she laughed as she tried to regain some air. Angel smiled as she did, happy that she felt comfortable enough to open up. He didn’t know everything about her, but he knew enough from Cam who had told Angel to offer an ear anytime he could because she could use it. Looking around the clubhouse t make sure Camila wasn’t anywhere around, Karlene leaned into Angel a little closer, whispering.

“Her birthday is coming up at the end of this month. What do you think I should get her? I thought maybe something for her garden or for baking, but she already seems like she has everything she needs.”

Angel agreed, having been dealing with the same dilemma himself, as well as the rest of the guys. Cam was simple and modest, never picky or asking for anything, but that was because anything she needed or wanted, she got for herself. It had proven difficult for the boys to pick what to get her because of that and he gave an apologetic smile.

“I don’t even know. We’ve all been trying to figure it out ourselves. I know that her and EZ will be gone Friday night, going out for their anniversary. We’ll all be here though so you can hang with us while we try to think of something. Gilly was talking about maybe doing a surprise party for her here. Nothing crazy, just the usual people. We’ll talk Friday, see what we can get her.”

Karlene beamed and gave him a thumbs up. Angel stood from the bar and made his way outside, Karlene finishing up with her mopping and grabbing a soda before heading out to the yard to see what everyone else was doing. Stepping out into the California heat, she walked out to where a few of the buys were working, Letty looking at her from the corner where she was perched next to Coco. Karlene smiled, but Letty didn’t return it and Karlene simply shrugged it off. The kid obviously liked her space and wasn’t quick to jump in and trust someone.

Coco on the other hand tapped her knee with the back of his hand and gave her a warning look. She looked at him at the contact and shrugged.

“What?”

“Be nice.”

“I am being nice. I just don’t know her.”

Knowing that he couldn’t argue with that, Coco led the conversation in a different but still similar direction.

“So, Camila…”

Letty nodded, her eyes pulling away from the redhead and looking at Coco.

“She’s cool. EZ’s like a puppy after her.”

Coco laughed at that. It was true and ever the observer, Letty had picked up on it. Coco thought back to Cam saying that she should get to know Letty first and he tested the waters.

“You guys should hang out. Maybe go shopping or get your nails done. I don’t know, do some girl shit. She works over in the bookstore that has the café, maybe you guys could go and get some coffee.”

Letty pondered it for a few seconds before shrugging.

“Sure. Sounds cool.”

Coco’s smile was bright and he leaned down, pressing a kiss into her hair as she stood up.

“If we’re gonna be friends though, I should probably tell her that you’re not my brother.”

The two shared a small laugh and Coco nodded, standing with her.

“Yeah, maybe you should.”

“Is there anything I shouldn’t tell her?”

Coco’s brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

Rolling her eyes, Letty motioned between the two of them.

“Like should I tell her the part where your mom is a crazy fuckin’ bitch and destroys everything she touches including our family or should I skip that?”

Heaving a sigh, Coco looked at her deeply.

“Tell her whatever you wanna tell her. She’s a good listener, she won’t judge. She may even help you out.”

Letty couldn’t hold back the scoff as she laughed.

“Help me out with what? How could she know what its like? Her grandmother seemed like a saint.”

Shaking his head, Coco tossed his arm around his daughter and began walking to the clubhouse with her.

“You two have more in common than you think.”

taglist: @caramara3 @lostgirl219 @mrsjaxtellerfan @actuallyazriel @vannabanana1995 @unnecessarypineapplesstuff @thegreat-annamaria @negansdirtygirl22 @svintsandghosts @piccasoe @tobesurroundedbysplendidthings @jadert15 @lovejn29 @may114 @meltingicequeen @spiced-reads @redheadonfire20

#el destino #EZ x Camila #ez reyes #coco cruz #angel reyes #Mayans MC #imagines #letty cruz #mayans imagine

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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The Eras of Lana Del Rey: Lookbook no.9

Hi to anyone reading,

Hope you’re okay! AND that you didn’t end up here because you searched the Lana Del Rey tag so you could see people ranting about her-you’re about to be very disappointed. Sorry. This is not about to be some Question for the Culture discourse because the world is bleak enough right now and the last thing we all need is to be reminded of that saga.

Being a Lana Del Rey fan is easy, they said. She’s not a controversial artist, they said. And yet 2020 had to do what it does best and fuck everything up.

Whether people like her or not, it’s made me so angry reading all the abuse she’s been getting about her appearance for the last couple of weeks, because I really thought that if we could agree on anything it was that attacking individuals for the way they look because you dislike something they’ve done (with the exception of shit like racist tattoos and blackfishing) is, you know, awful and judgemental as fuck? Like you do realise when you treat the word fat as a pejorative that the fat people you don’t have a problem with understood that you meant it as an insult too? I think what all those people tweeting about Lana’s weight, and that includes some of her fans, are forgetting is that she was in her early 20s when she was thrust into the limelight. As much as there’s this conspiracy that her dad bought her a career in the music industry, she’d made the decision to go it alone and had lived in a trailer park as a struggling musician for years. On top of that, we have the unreleased tracks with lyrics seemingly referencing an eating disorder in her younger years. OF COURSE her body is going to look different. Why is it that we treat weight gain as an inherently bad thing without any insight into the other factors that constitute a person’s “health”? It’s fucking insane that so many feel they have the right to comment on other’s bodies in the first place and it breaks my heart that she might be reading these comments. This wasn’t intended to necessarily be a rant about how much I love this woman but all the shit I’ve read about her on the internet these past few months have pushed me to it. You'll respect your queen of alternative music or I shall stan twice as hard on your behalf. You can thank me later when you come to your senses xoxo

I’d love to say it was intentional that I finally finished this post the week Violet Bent Backwards Over the Grass was released but that would imply I have my shit way more together than I actually do. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve only heard L.A Who am I to Love You so far 1). because I want to wait for the hard copy for the rest and that doesn’t turn up til September and 2). because I do not have my shit together, lol. That being said, there is no doubt in my mind that I am going to love it-one thing I have always loved about Lana’s lyrics is how well they paint a picture and this is something that poetry only more freely allows for the exploration of. That ability to create such a strong narrative voice and atmosphere is a talent that extends to her visuals and the production of her records too, and is something I really missed when it comes to the Norman Fucking Rockwell era. I’m just going to say it: a strong aesthetic is to NFR as memorable songs are to Lust for Life. Lacking. Am I allowed to say that as a fan? The collaborations don’t do it for me, okay, and as as NFR is concerned, aside from The Greatest/Fuck It I Love You video which went down the whole neon surfer girl route, it’s hard to identify a cohesive theme. It’s understandable that at this point, she would want to just focus purely on the music, and it goes without saying that NFR will stand the test of time in that regard but I don’t think we can deny that when people think of Lana in the future, it’s not gonna be a green windbreaker that comes into their heads.

^Illustration credit to Filip Kozak (https://filipkozaksart.tumblr.com/?fbclid=IwAR3vwLX2pNxoFNhTPD1ky14LllPqlLtL1GxGlD79xuHxdtzcHLw-6aNBZWo)

And here’s where this Filip Kozak illustration comes into it; after years of it sitting in my camera roll for years, it finally has a use. There’s really nothing better to illustrate how mundane life has become this year than the disproportionate level of excitement my photo-hoarding-self experienced realising it would fit perfectly into this post and is thus eligible for deletion. Up there with being able to fit a whole box of biscuits onto the shelf at work rather than having to individually take out as many as I can and then shove them on top of the existing box of biscuits one by one. Truly riveting content on this Tumblr page. Back to the point-by using this as my stimulus for the post rather than the Lana Del Rey albums as outfits tag that went round on Twitter, I can conveniently exclude NFR as an outfit inspiration category, and that saves me from having to buy a charity shop windbreaker with its price bumped up 150% by some upper middle class Depop e-girl or boy who uses the word peng as a descriptor like it’s a nervous tic. To make up for leaving out NFR, I’ve tried to branch out a bit and do the outfits not just based on the music videos or album covers but also from street style and stage looks and photoshoots from around the same period too. It was hard not to be influenced by the general “vibe” and sound of the albums either when I was planning outfits, whether it’s the grand, orchestral instrumentals of Born to Die or the 70s psychedelic rock inspired riffs of Ultraviolence and hopefully that’ll show as well! Enjoy:D

Born to Die (Release Date: 27th January 2012)

It’s been 8 years, and when you ask most people what they think of when they hear the name Lana Del Rey, they’ll probably dismiss her as the one who sings about being sad and doing coke and sleeping with older men. That’s the Born to Die impact. Say what you want but it’s one of only a handful of albums released by a female artist to have spent more than 300 weeks on the Billboard 200 chart and it really established the mythos of “Lana Del Rey” because before all this, before all the think pieces from other women claiming she’d set feminism back hundreds of years with her music, before she ousted grayscale Effy Stonem as the queen of angsty teen Tumblr (which as you can probably guess was a subsection of the internet I was very much engulfed by, lmao), she was just Lizzie Grant, a relatively normal aspiring singer songwriter in her early twenties. But as Lana Del Rey, she was someone else-some beautiful, mystical being that personified the sentiment of being born in the wrong era. Whilst every other singer’s record labels seemed to be trying desperately to thrust them into the future and keep them on top of all the musical and stylistic trends, it was refreshing to hear someone whose music and visuals captured all the most glamorous elements of the past. Part Priscilla Presley/Jackie O reincarnation (the National Anthem video really illustrated how Lana is just as much a storyteller as she is a musician), part high level mobster’s wayward wife à la Michelle Pfeiffer in Scarface, she was the good girl by day and the bad girl by night, and I think that’s a duality we can all relate to or would like to think we’re interesting enough to relate to deep down.

Her style from around this period was EVERYTHING. She had those grungy Tumblr girl elements, the camo jacket and the oversized pieces and the leather jackets, but she also heavily drew on the styles and silhouettes of the 50s and 60s with the beehives and the new look Dior inspired cinched waist dresses. Even now in 2020, I think this period is what most people would think if they were asked to describe Lana’s style. I made sure I got the grungy pieces in there with the chunky boots and the vinyl and the oversized leather but the foundation of her looks back then were usually these daintier throwback pieces like the white silk dress and the corset and the mint fur trimmed coat (House of Sunny’s Penny Pistachio coat).

Favourite lyrics from the album? “Now my life is sweet like cinnamon, like a fucking dream I'm living in” from Radio. Nobody asked but I’m gonna give it to you anyway.

Born to Die: The Paradise Edition (Release Date: 9th November 2012)

Lana’s Paradise EP contains probably my absolute favourite song of her’s, Ride, and with that, the beautiful opening monologue that will stay in my mind forever. This era was of course ushered in by Tropico, the short film that included the premiere of the songs Bel Air, Body Electric and Gods and Monsters, which established the ethereal tone of this period-it’s in the name, after all. Both the album and the videos were other-worldly and leaned heavily on religious symbolism which I’m sure pissed off many a middle-aged bible basher at the time. Most prominent in her lyrics were reflections on the freedom of the open road which corresponded with visuals of biker gangs and desert dwellers and modern interpretations of the Wild West, as was an attempt to capture the nature of the so-called “American spirit” which as Lana portrayed it shared more qualities with a kind of celestial, transient being than any kind of solid concept or identity. She played an emotionally detached stripper and a haunted saloon-style-bar singer (almost looking like a runaway bride) and Eve the “first woman” all in the same album and honestly, if that’s not iconic, I don’t know what is. We saw SO many incredible red carpet looks in this period too which built upon this idea of her as the fallen angel tempted by original sin that Tropico established; I feel like this era was all about laying bare the soul of the character she played, this broken, delicate but ultimately liberated being that was so dangerous to the idea of the strong, stable modern feminist ideal. She went about it in COMPLETELY the wrong way in a post that betrayed the ignorance of the privilege she has as a white female performer, but I think this is what she was getting at in it and Ultraviolence only went on to bolster her critics.

In response to the criticism she still receives about the choice to wear a Native American war bonnet in her Ride music video, I’d like to say that it really seems like she’s learnt from that-actions speak louder than words and so though it’s not my place to say whether this makes up for that error, the work she’s done with Native American reparations-focussed foundations since and the money she’s donated to the cause says a lot about her intentions. Again, I want to stress that it’s not my place to say! But it’s a detail that is often overlooked so I thought I’d mention it here.

“I was a singer, not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet. But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky, that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.”

Ultraviolence (Release Date: 13th June 2014)

AH, Ultraviolence. My favourite of Lana’s albums and imo, a masterpiece. ONE skip. ONE. Sorry Guns and Roses. I got stoned in my back garden and listened to this (for research purposes ofc, heh) and ended up deciding that this is what I want to listen to when I die (also whilst stoned). It sounds dramatic but listening to this album in that state of mind is such a heavenly experience that I’d be too zen to notice myself slipping away into nothingness on the basis that if I didn’t as long as I could stay in that bubble of awe, nothingness forever wouldn’t be so scary after all. I know, I know, that sentence has big Jaden Smith’s old tweets energy. But if an album is what helps me get over an existential crisis, I beg you allow me the nonsensical ramblings about how I felt like I was ascending into the stars.

Though in terms of the lyrical content the public perception is probably correct, I think the reputation Ultraviolence has as Lana’s darkest, most gothic album (which is something I’ve in incorporated into the outfits I put together) is mistaken; instrumentally and visually it drew more on 70s psychedelic rock and the bohemian counter culture of the period than anything, and her stage looks are a clear reflection of that, and also the outfits I was most excited to channel. It seems counter-intuitive to the moody atmosphere I associate the tracklist with but it’s my go-to summer album; it’s raw (probably her most stripped back work along with NFR, lots of the songs are barely edited) and it’s gloomy but let’s be real, hot as fuck-don’t bother making a sex playlist, just put Ultraviolence on shuffle, and you’re good to go. This was the album where Lana debuted some of her most criticised lyrics and where the notion that she glamourises abuse comes from, one of the points she also seemed to be getting at in the Instagram post, but imo it’s fair to say that she sang truthfully about the initial allure of a dangerous relationship and the nature of the mindset that facilitates staying with somebody poisonous where you do feel like you’re nothing without them. Turning horrific experiences into romantic tragedies is how Lana has always made her music and yeah, out of context there are some fucked up lyrics on the album, but policing how a woman expresses her trauma and complaining that she glorifies weakness because she wrote honestly about the reality of a complicated partnership is hardly any more “feminist” than the lyrics themselves. I can only guess that the reason Lana felt the need to bring up this criticism in 2020 is because these darker themes are going to be revisited in her upcoming album and that in spite of the issues with the way she expressed herself, this time critics will be more accepting of how she chooses to address these themes.

On a lighter note “yeah my boyfriend's pretty cool, but he's not as cool as me” will always be a great line. Simple but effective. If my boyfriend ever is cooler than me it’ll be doing Lana a disservice.

Honeymoon (Release Date: 18th September 2015)

Considering that a lot of other Lana fans are of the opinion that this is her best album, I find it weird that I really don’t remember all that much about this period, other than High by the Beach being released and then hearing Salvatore and Freak for the first time. I guess because she didn’t do a Honeymoon specific tour and didn’t make that many public appearances in this period? It was definitely harder for me to find visual reference points beyond the HbtB music video and the cover art, so I mostly drew on the general vibe of the album, a cinematic accompaniment to a summer in Italy or the South of France, filled with exotic instrumentals and the sense of impending romantic doom that Lana does so well. I suppose if I associate the visuals of this era with anything it’s idyllic florals and warm tones, bygone country club pool days, a rich American’s vacation in Southern Europe, long walks on the beach (and as our Lord and Saviour Jujubee once said, big dicks and fried chicken). Apparently inspired by Lana’s relationship with Francesco Carrozini, it’s a hazy story of some ultra-feminine, submissive archetype becoming unhealthily enchanted by a mysterious “foreign man” who’s ultimately not all that good for her, which as the story goes turned out to be quite prophetic. Going against the grain, it’s my least favourite of her albums after Lust for Life, but in spite of that, I will always remember how obsessed I was with the sax riffs (I think? I don’t know my instruments all that well so forgive me, lol) on Freak and I definitely understand why it’s a firm favourite for so many.

“You could be a bad motherfucker, but that don’t make you a man.” was truly a cultural reset of a line.

-on an unrelated note, OMG, I never realised how I have my mouth open in literally every fucking photo I take, somebody tell me how to pose, please and thank you-

Lust for Life (Release Date: 21 July 2017)

Lust for Life is a controversial one. On the one hand, I appreciate that this album was the victory cry of a happier, more independent, politically-aware Lana in spite of it apparently being a far more optimistic sounding album than the one she wanted to release, but on the other there were way too many collaborations for me and this meant that the album lacked a sense of cohesion and the characteristic narrative thread that usually runs throughout her tracklist. Aside from Love, Cherry, Get Free and Tomorrow Never Came, most of the songs on the album aren’t hugely memorable and it’s a crying shame that a collaboration with STEVIE FUCKING NICKS of all people left so much to be desired. Coming from two witchy icons, I expected something absolutely magical so maybe I was setting myself up for failure, but come on. We could’ve had a real anthem there.

Aesthetically speaking however, this is one of my favourite eras for Lana, which is unsurprising when you consider the tracklist contains references to both Woodstock and Coachella. I’m not gonna lie, I think seeing Coachella fashion in my early teens was my style awakening-I remember seeing Vanessa Hudgens’ outfits and being like, wow, I want to be her (oh, what a fall from grace)-so the late 60s/early 70s flower power groupie style Lana adopted in this period really spoke to me. It was all long hair and dreamy pastels, and this era included some of the most head-to-toe coordinated looks we’ve ever seen from her. Of course I couldn’t completely abandon the grungy touches that I love, that I tend to associate with the early Lana street style days and the Paradise and Ultraviolence music videos rather than with this album, but I’m never gonna pass up an opportunity to whack out a good floral two piece and putting together Lust for Life inspired looks is the perfect excuse to do that.

So, that marks the end of this post! If you made it to the end, thank you so much for reading! I have a Yesstyle lookbook and review to edit but now that I’ve finished that, I’m trying to go down more of a style inspiration focussed route with my lookbooks rather than just putting together outfits from clothes I’ve just bought (though I might still do one every so often to bring in a new season-let’s just ignore the fact that they’re all blending into one bc climate change for now, one catastrophe at a time please universe). I find that if you have a specific idea in mind of what you want, it’s super easy to find something similar on Depop and Ebay and that way you avoid buying new things and also take old things off a person’s hands that might otherwise end up being thrown out by a charity shop and then dumped into a landfill from there. Something I’d LOVE to do before this year is out is put together a lookbook based on the most stylish TV shows of the last decade, but that probably won’t be for a while-even so, if you have any recommendations of series to watch which could fit into this category, let me know!

To finish, I need to go a little bit off-topic so forgive me, but I truly don’t know why this even needs to be said: WEAR A FUCKING MASK. IT IS NOT A POLITICAL ISSUE. IT IS A BASIC HYGIENIC PRACTICE THAT HELPS SPREAD THE STOP OF A HIGHLY CONTAGIOUS DISEASE! RUDIMENTAL SCIENCE! NOT A CHANCE TO PROVE HOW “EDGY” YOU ARE! SERIOUSLY, STOP MAKING A FUCKING PANDEMIC ABOUT YOURSELF! NOBODY ENJOYS WEARING THEM BUT THEY HELP PROTECT OTHERS! SO UNLESS YOU HAVE A VALID MEDICAL REASON NOT TO BE WEARING ONE, DON’T BE A SELFISH PRICK!

Sorry to sign off on a rant-y note with something that has nothing to do with Lana, lol, but all the stupidity has been grinding me gears lately and I had to let it out on behalf of all retail workers: if we can wear a mask for 9 hours at a time, YOU can tolerate the mild discomfort of wearing one for 10 minutes. I know this doesn’t apply to the majority of people but there’s always a couple of arseholes, isn’t there!?

Stay safe,

Lauren x

#ldr #lana #lana del rey #fashion #fashion blogger #style blogger #outfit inspo

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thistangledbrain · 3 years

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Hi there👋🏼

I’m Scottie, and I’m a 44 year old autistic mama of 2 Autie boys. I also have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (classical type).

I had been thinking of starting a blog recently, and when FB kicked me off for 30 days again for something silly right at the start of ASD Awareness Month & the kickoff of a “blog like” string of posts, I figured this was as good a time as any.

Short intro:

I didn’t know I was autistic until pursuing a diagnosis for my youngest son, a few years ago. Talking to his therapists about him, they wanted to know how I understood him so well, and how I could explain things he didn’t have words for (he was in his early teens before we pursued a formal diagnosis), like what meltdowns feel like & how we handle them. That led to the understanding that I was also on the spectrum.

Although my oldest hasn’t been formally diagnosed (sorry but I don’t have $1500 for each one of our “formal” tests, so we have to go off therapists and other shit), it’s very apparent he’s also autistic (he and I are classed under “Asperger’s”, if that label was still relevant, anyway). My youngest is a senior in HS who is a history buff & gamer, and my oldest is a sophomore at UMW, pursuing a degree in physics. They’re such incredible humans, that I wonder how they came from *me*. ☺️

So, April is Autism Awareness Month, and I wanted to actually divulge to my friends what it’s like inside my brain (for some reason, they’re genuinely curious lol), so using this handy 1-30 meme, I figured I’d do that.

A little more background: I’ve held a number of pretty interesting jobs, but the one that’s the most important to me is that I served in the United States Marine Corps when my oldest was small (joined at 24). I get a lot of curiosity from fellow vets and other auties about autistics in the military, and this is a topic I love to speak on...so just ask, if you’re curious. ☺️ Yes, I was actually a damn decent Marine, and collected some awards and certifications in my short time that mean the world to me. I happen to believe the military is actually an ideal environment for auties, if you like to push yourself. (For any curious, my MOS was 6152 - CH-46 Airframes.) I *absolutely* still consider myself a Marine (“Once a Marine, always a Marine”, as the saying goes). Honor, courage, commitment, and all the core leadership values are just naturally part of who I am as a person. And I might be “old and busted” now, but I still bite. 😉😁

The rest of my working career was spent in construction (I *love* to build, create, and work with my hands), and working with horses and dogs. Dogs are my “special interest”, and I am a fairly successful “rehab” foster for a myriad of guardian breeds, like the Cane Corso, Neapolitan Mastiff, Dogo Argentino, Dogue de Bordeaux, Great Dane, and many others. Great Danes and Cane Corsi are my favorite breeds & I adore working with both. Behavior interests me far more than obedience, though I LOVE a dialed-in working Corso, and have one who works our little rescue farm. I’m proud of his training, and the training of another who I spent a year dialing in as a service dog for another disabled Marine vet friend. (Side note: I don’t generally recommend Corsi for SD work. This was a unique need, situation, and bloodline.)

I’m a “dog nerd”...whether it’s behavior, training, health, or the various breeds and their traits, I can talk dogs with you all day. Dogs enable me to be successfully social, too, and are why I have a large network of good friends...which was impossible before I got into rescue and training. I can be as gregarious as a NT, if there’s a dog attached to me LOL...

But, a few years ago, EDS killed any hope I have ever again of holding a regular job, and even limited my ability with training.

I went through a complete identity crisis, which I’ll probably write about at some point. I feel like I’m clawing my way out of that and finding my footing again, and I’m hoping this blog will help anyone else - whether you’re an Autie, raising one of us little heathens, otherwise disabled, or just curious what it’s like to step inside the brain of someone who doesn’t think like most people.

If you’re new here, just know that I cuss like a ...well, like a Marine...I’m blunt, direct, honest, and I genuinely don’t have time for haters.

Autism is called a spectrum for a reason. I might not be like any other autistics you know...until you “get to know me” a little (easy...I’m an open book both online and off). I always encourage NTs (that’s Neurotypicals, or you “normal people” - whatever THAT means) to get to know as many autistics as you can, to help dispel myths and misunderstandings.

As a friend said - autism is simply a different operating system. You have an android and I have iOS. We can still communicate, but we just process information differently.

So welcome, pull up a chair, and know that it might get weird.

After all...if it wasn’t gonna, would you be even all that interested in being here? 😏

#autism #autistic #ASD #autistic women

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ellewritesathing · 4 years

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So Close - S.S. XXXI

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist Prev. | Part 31

Word-count: 4k+

A/N: soooo uh some rambling ahead but you can skip this if you want!! i’ve been writing so close on and off since like august of 2019 which is a little insane to me. i loved the beginning of so close because it was just like whacky incidents, and i realise i can’t change the entire teen wolf plot but it’s my fic and i can make it lighthearted if i want to. so here’s to trying to fix the mess i’ve made and get back to the fun stuff!! hope you like it!!

Deaton wanted to keep you overnight for observation, but there was no way your mom was letting you stay in the animal clinic by yourself. Melissa was a force of nature when it came to her kids, and the only person who could convince her that it was okay to let go was you or Scott - and Scott was never any good at arguing.

“Mom,” you said quietly, taking her hand in yours. Her voice was so loud and strained that she didn’t seem to hear you at first, so you gripped her hand more tightly and tried again. It was hard to focus with the lights so bright. “Mom, I can stay here. It’s one night.”

“One night?” Melissa repeated, still strained but quieter. “It’s not one night. You haven’t been home in- Do you even know what day it is?”

“Mom, it’s one night.”

“Months. It’s been months,” Melissa argued, barely even listening. “You weren’t even here for your birthday! It is not one night. It’s- it’s-”

“One night.” Your voice was hollow but you needed to keep it together. For her and for everyone else. “You can stay here the whole time. I’m not going anywhere else. I promise.”

Melissa was quiet. She looked at you, then over your shoulder to Scott, and then to Deaton. You could feel her heart rate dropping in your hand as she came to a decision. “Alright. One night.” She sighed and rubbed her forehead with her free hand. “Do you need anything from home? I’ll bring you some pajamas, toiletries, your pillow… anything else?”

You shook your head and Melissa squeezed your hand again, shaky as Scott pulled her back and helped her out to the car. Once you were sure they were gone, you put your head in your hands and started sliding down to the floor.

“Hey, hey, hey-” You weren’t sure where he came from, but Stiles put his hands over yours and tried to get your attention. “Hey, look at me. You’re okay.”

“Stiles, I’m not okay,” you whispered. Your eyes burned, maybe from the tears, maybe from the lights. You couldn’t tell. “I’m seventeen now. I- I missed my birthday and I’ve died at least twice in less than a year. And I’m- I hurt you. So badly. There’s no coming back from that.”

“Of course there’s coming back,” Stiles said. He didn’t waiver, no matter how much you tried to push him away. “Y/N, I have done so, so much worse. And you’ve never given up on me.”

“That’s different.”

“How is that different?”

“It just is!” You pulled your hands away from your head because it wasn’t helping anyway. It was still too loud. “Because you didn’t hospitalize Lydia. Or kill Scott. Or blow up-”

“Well, I kidnapped Lydia. Maimed Scott. And I’m pretty sure I’m responsible for at least two shrapnel bombs,” Stiles said. “So. You know. It’s kind of the same.”

You were quiet enough that Stiles took it as a sign that you agreed, or at least that you were considering it. He laced his hand through yours and it was difficult to focus on anything that wasn’t the blood flowing through his fingers.

“Stiles,” you said carefully, “It’s different because we’re sitting here and I- I can’t focus on how guilty I am because all I can focus on is the pit in my stomach. I am so hungry, and it’s so selfish. All I can think about is-”

“You’re still hungry?” Stiles asked. “You ate like an entire pizza an hour ago.”

Somehow, you managed to avert your eyes when you were already avoiding eye contact. “The food made me feel sick.”

“Okay, well, it’s not a full moon ‘cause that was a week ago. So maybe it’s just because it’s been a while since you had anything to eat,” Stiles said. “Your stomach just needs to adjust to normal again, that’s all.”

You wanted to believe him, you really did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. All you could do was muster up a smile and let Stiles kiss your forehead, doing your best not to think about how badly you wanted to rip his throat out.

---

You weren’t sure what was worse: spending the night on Deaton’s exam table or knowing that your mom, Scott, Stiles, and Deaton were all watching you. They didn’t even take turns; all far too concerned for different reasons to sleep. To be fair, it’s not like you slept either, but that wasn’t out of concern. It was because they were too loud and you were too hot.

A cold shower once you got home did nothing to help the pounding in your head. The water hit the shower walls so hard that it was deafening, and you couldn’t cool down no matter how low you turned the temperature. Just like the night before, it was insufferable.

And you were still hungry.

You dug through the fridge and stuffed all the food you could find into your mouth before one of your loved ones came to check on you. That’s how Stiles found you on the kitchen floor, drinking orange juice straight from the bottle. He got a weird smile on his face and you nodded at him.

“I thought a couple of raccoons broke in,” Stiles said, head tilting to the side as he gestured to the trash can piled high with wrappers. “But I’m pretty sure raccoons are less messy.”

“Very funny, Stilinski.” You rolled your eyes and patted the ground next to you. “Sit with me?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t,” Stiles said. He rocked on his heels as he pretended to think about it. “Got a surprise for you that isn’t on the kitchen floor.”

“A surprise?” you asked, pulling your legs up to your chest and setting the juice to the side. “What is it?”

“God, do any of you know what the word ‘surprise’ means?” Stiles said with an exasperated sigh, clearly more at something or someone else than you. He held out a hand to you. “Come on. Come here and I’ll show you.”

You let Stiles pull you up but didn’t say anything else as he did. Whatever this surprise was, you were sure that you deserved it. So much had happened, even if everyone wanted to pretend it hadn’t. Even as Stiles led you through the house, you could hear your mom on the phone with the school upstairs. It made you feel sick.

“Stiles, I think we should just-”

And then he opened the door and you saw a very familiar, very beat up Porsche on the street with some very familiar, less beat up people leaning against it.

“Oh, my god. Is that-”

You looked at Stiles for a second and he nodded at you, then you made a run for it. Isaac caught you, but you’d sprinted into him at such a speed that you knocked the wind out of him and rocked the Porsche. He laughed and said something you didn’t process as you turned and wrapped Cora up in your arms. She was uncomfortable under your grip but she let you hug her to your heart’s content.

“What are you guys doing here?” you rushed out. You were holding their hands to keep from drifting away. “I thought you were still in Argentina. The last time we talked-”

“We were,” Cora interrupted slowly. “Then you stopped answering our texts, and a few days later Stiles called.”

“And you actually answered?” you teased.

A few months ago, that would have made them laugh. Now it made them smile in a way that didn’t quite reach their eyes and broke your heart.

“So how much of it have they told you?” you asked.

“Told us what?”

“Don’t you dare, Lahey. You can’t lie to me for shit,” you said, pulling your hands back and crossing your arms over your chest. As the conversation became less ecstatic, you became more aware of the sun scorching your skin. “Cora, what do you know?”

Cora took a breath and looked at Isaac before speaking. “We know you were possessed by the nogitsune and then Scott turned you. Into what is unclear, but Derek said that if it’s you then it can’t be anything that bad.”

It made you smile at least. Derek never would have said anything that mushy to your face. You took a breath and focused on relaxing your muscles. “Okay, okay,” you sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m a little-”

“Crazy?” Isaac asked.

You glared at him and he shrugged it off, but you still held his hand as you led him and Cora inside. They didn’t ask questions about what happened or how you were dealing with it, they just sat with you and talked about anything else. Scott and Stiles joined you guys after a few minutes, and so did your mom when she eventually needed a break from all the bureaucracy.

Even though Isaac insisted he was fine, Melissa still came back with bowls of food and some drinks. She made his plate just like she did when he came over after fights with his dad and when he was staying with you. For the hour or so you spent together, everything felt normal.

And then Stiles bumped over a glass during one of his stories and scrambled to pick it up, cutting himself in the process. It was like someone electrocuted you. Everything inside of you lit up and it took all you could not to attack him. A sickening feeling of not being in control flooded inside you - a ghostly reminder of being possessed - when you called out for Scott to get you out of the room.

For a second, Scott didn’t look like he understood. He clicked but Cora was faster thanks to growing up with plenty of werewolves still learning control. She had you out the room and up against the stairs in seconds, claws sinking into your arm. You cried out and pushed her away but Cora was far stronger than she looked.

“Hey, look at me,” she said, hand coming up to hold your head in place once Isaac took hold of your limbs. “Breathe. Stop focusing on the anger. Focus on the pain. Pain makes you human. Pain makes you heal. You understand?”

“Let me go.” You didn’t recognize the growl that came out of your mouth. Everything about this was so disgustingly similar to being controlled by the nogitsune, so you did your best to listen to Cora. “Pain makes you human,” you repeated in a labored voice. “Pain makes you heal.”

Isaac let go before Cora did, and she let go before you were ready for it. Your breathing slowed back to normal but your brain was pounding out of your skull.

“Is that- Is that what’s gonna be like?” you asked. “On the full moon, I mean. Am I just going to … to lose control like that?”

Cora looked over at Scott and Isaac shifted uncomfortably next to her. Scott sighed and sat next to you on the stairs.

“Not always,” he said, very carefully choosing his words. “It’s going to take everything you’ve got on the first few not to lose control, but it will get better. You’ve seen it with Isaac and Boyd. With Liam. You know how to do this.”

“I don’t think I do,” you said in a small voice. You looked over Scott’s shoulder and between Cora and Isaac and your eyes landed on Stiles. He was looking at you too, but his eyes were full of concern for you while yours were full of something else. Guilt. You could have killed him. “I think you should take me back to Deaton.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get them to take you back. Scott and Stiles stayed with you while you explained everything to Deaton from the light and sound sensitivity to insatiable hunger and then losing it altogether. He was quiet for a few moments as he thought and then he retreated into the backroom.

You did you best not to eavesdrop but it was difficult with the new hearing that you couldn’t control yet. Luckily for you, Stiles squeezed your hand and it was almost impossible to focus on anything else.

Deaton came back with a metal drinking bottle. He set it down in front of you and gave you a smile. “You’ll feel better after drinking this.”

“What is it?” you asked, untangling your hand from Stiles’ to grab a hold of the bottle. As soon as you unscrewed the top, you felt that electricity turn back on.

“I think you know.”

“Well, I don’t!” Stiles said next to you. “Is someone gonna explain to me what’s going on? What’s in the bottle?”

“Blood,” Scott said. You should have known he could smell it.

“Blood?” Stiles repeated. “Why blood?”

“I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to this,” Deaton said. “But it seems Y/N spent too much time without a beating heart. She needs something to keep her alive and in control, and that’s what the blood is for.”

“Does this look like control, Doc?” Stiles asked. “Black eyes and a death-grip on a water bottle?”

“I think it looks like someone who’s trying,” Deaton said. “And who needs a moment alone to drink.”

Stiles looked ready to argue again but either the look on your face or Scott’s hand on his arm got through to him because he closed his mouth. Then he wiped his face and nodded just before Scott led him out of the room.

Deaton disappeared again and then it was just you and the bottle.

The bottle full of blood.

Blood that was sticky and warm as it slid down your throat. Blood that made your entire body tingle and feel alive. Blood made the light not feel blinding and finally, finally drowned out all the noise. Blood that fixed your hunger.

---

“Are we all good?” Melissa asked when the three of you got home again. She looked like she’d been pacing ever since you left, stopping only when she heard Scott unlock the door. “Or do I need to get Cora back in here?”

“We’re all good,” you said, squeezing Stiles’ hand lightly. He still seemed freaked out from earlier but you knew he didn’t mean it. “Why do you look like you have bad news? Did something happen to Dad? No one’s said anything about him since I got back-”

“No, honey. No, it’s nothing like that,” Melissa said. She was about to reach out but seemed to think better of it. “Why don’t you sit down?”

“Mom,” you said hesitantly. Your hesitance didn’t stop you from sitting on the couch and holding onto Stiles’ hand with two of your own. “What’s wrong?”

Melissa took a breath. “So I talked things through with the school. They’re willing to let you finish summer school and test out with them so you don’t have to repeat sophomore year.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Stiles asked. “Summer school?”

“Because you missed the last few weeks of school, it’s either this or repeating the year,” Melissa said. When you didn’t answer, she continued, “The tests are at the end of this month.”

“The end of the month?” you repeated. “That’s in like-” You stopped to frown. What day was it?

“Three weeks,” Scott said, sounding awkward from his armchair.

“Three weeks.” Every single thing that could go wrong in the next three weeks flashed through your head, as well as the realization that passing these tests would take up every waking moment of the next three weeks. “I can’t do that in three weeks. I- I just got back. I don’t even remember what I was doing before I was- you know. I can’t- Three weeks?”

“Hey, hey,” Stiles said, wrapping his hand around yours. You didn’t realize how rough you’d been on them during your freak-out until he held them still in his own. “You can do this. Lydia can tutor you when you’re not in class and I can-”

“Stiles, isn’t there a full moon in three weeks?” you asked. “You said the last one was a week ago.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Stiles said. He shifted slightly and looked at Scott. “But we can figure that out.”

“Can we?” you asked.

“Of course we can,” Scott said, snapping your attention back to him. “We’re all here for you and we’re not going anywhere. Okay?”

You bit the inside of your lip. He wasn’t going to listen to your doubts; that just wasn’t how Scott was. He believed the best in people. “Okay,” you said eventually. Taking a deep breath, you stood up and made a list of all the things you needed to do. “Okay. I’m gonna get my stuff together. When do I start school?”

“Tomorrow,” Melissa said. “It’s Tuesday.”

“Tuesday,” you said under your breath. You nodded and started heading for your room. “Tuesday. Three weeks. Full moon. I can do this.”

You reached the top of the stairs when you heard them whispering downstairs. Despite how wrong you knew it was, you focused your hearing on the whispers. Somehow, it worked.

“You really think she can do this?” Stiles asked.

“I have no clue,” Scott said. “But I think she’s gonna try.”

---

Apparently, spending ten hours a day locked up in your room studying and only taking breaks to train with Isaac and Cora wasn’t exactly how everyone pictured you spending your time once you came back home. They were worried about you, they said. You needed a break, they said. Come to the scavenger hunt with us, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

So now you were in Deaton’s animal clinic, sandwiched between your friends and thinking about the mountains of chemistry you had to get through when this was all over as you listened to Lydia explain the rules.

“Okay, any questions?” she asked, hands on hips, after wrapping it up.

Isaac held up a hand. “Uh, yeah, I’ve got one.” He jutted his chin out in Liam’s direction. “Who’s the kid?”

“I’m Liam. Scott’s first beta,” Liam answered. He looked at Scott before adding the ‘first beta’ part but he should have looked harder and talked less.

“Oh, you are not his first beta,” Isaac said, pressing himself off the wall.

Liam was getting ready to square up and you jumped out of your corner to put one hand on Isaac’s shoulder and wrap your other arm around him. “Okay,” you said, forcing a smile. “Isaac, this is Liam, the kid Scott and Stiles kidnapped. Liam, this is Isaac, turned by Derek but-”

“What I meant was: any questions about the scavenger hunt?” Lydia asked, straining her voice to keep calm over the noise.

“No,” you said, nudging Isaac lightly. “Right, guys?”

“No,” Isaac repeated after a few seconds, eyes not drifting from where they locked on Liam’s. “No questions, right, Liam?”

“Right,” Liam said after another few seconds.

“Great,” Lydia said. “Grab your first set of clues and partner up. No cheating.”

You didn’t want to leave Isaac when he still seemed ready to pick a fight with Liam, but he was already skulking towards the table with the clues and maps. He picked one up and asked Scott to be his partner since Malia and Cora wanted to be together. Stiles grabbed the things and rushed over to you before Kira and Liam had the chance to scramble together the stuff to be your partner. The two of them looked very awkwardly at one another while you bit back a laugh.

“Well, why are you all still standing there?” Lydia asked. “Go scavenge!”

Not only were you and Stiles an excellent team, but the two of you were also extremely competitive. That’s why you were surprised when - after blowing through most of Lydia’s clues - Stiles pulled you into the alley that stood between the store and Jeep.

You laughed as the two of you got tangled up and almost fell into the wall as a result. “And now?” you asked, holding onto his arm to keep you both steady. “I thought you wanted to win.”

“Of course I wanna win-” Stiles was so close that you could have heard his heartbeat without the super-hearing. “Liam and Kira? They’ve got no chance.” He pressed a kiss to your neck and looked back up at you. “Scott and Isaac? Please.” Another kiss. “Our only competition is Malia and Cora and the emotional baggage on that team is-”

“Nothing compared to ours?” you teased, lifting a hand to the side of his face. Your thumb traced his cheek and you leaned in to kiss him. “I miss this,” you said with a sigh after pulling away. “I miss you. These past few weeks-”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles said. He moved some hair out your face and dropped his hand to your neck. “We’ve barely seen each other.”

“After my finals,” you promised. You leaned in and gave him another kiss. “Now let’s go kick some scavenger hunt ass.”

“Oh, you know it!”

---

Three weeks - that’s how long you had. Three weeks of awkward study sessions with Lydia because you couldn’t stop feeling guilty about hurting her. Three weeks of training with Scott and getting your ass kicked by Isaac and Cora. Three weeks of spending absolutely no time with Stiles.

Your three weeks were up.

After tossing and turning the whole night, slowly going crazy from the lack of sleep and the near-full moon in the sky. Sighing, you rolled over and checked your phone. Four hours until you had to be up to take your test. Hesitantly, you opened up your chats and clicked on Stiles’ face.

‘Hey, are you awake?’

You put your phone on your chest and stared up at the ceiling while you waited for a response, but it turned out you didn’t need to. Not even three seconds later and your phone started vibrating.

“Did I wake you?” you asked in a low voice.

“No, I, uh- I don’t sleep that well by myself,” Stiles said, even though it sounded like he’d just woken up. “Are you alright?”

“Nervous.” You stretched out and started fiddling with your covers. “Stiles, what happens if I show up today and someone gets a papercut? Am I just going to freak out and attack some poor kid?”

“No, of course not,” Stiles said. You could hear him shaking his head. “Scott’s taught you how to control it, alright? And I’m gonna be right outside with a very special juicebox. Nothing’s gonna make you freak out except the Geometry Section.”

He always knew what to say, but something still didn’t sit right with you. It wasn’t something that you could explain, but Stiles was one of the only people who’d listen to you try. Listening to him breathe over the phone, you knew that tonight wasn’t the night to try to explain it.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too. I feel like the only time we had alone was at Lydia’s scavenger hunt,” Stiles sighed. He stretched out in your mind and the thought made you smile. “Got any plans after your tests?”

“Lunch with the most understanding boyfriend in the world?” you asked.

“Okay, well, then he’ll understand if you cancel on him and go out with me, right?” Stiles asked. “Or, like, I could go with you guys and we could all pay separately-”

“Shut up,” you laughed, tilting your head back into your pillow and trying to be quiet. The line went silent after you did and, even though you could still hear Stiles’ breathing, you asked, “Hey, you still there?”

“Always,” Stiles said without missing a beat. “I was just listening to you laugh.”

Despite the fact that it made your heart jump, you said, “Weirdo.”

He laughed and then it got quiet again. So quiet that you thought he’d fallen asleep again just before he asked, “You still there?”

“Always,” you said quietly. “I should get back to sleep but, uh, will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” Stiles said. “And I’ll be there at seven to take you to school, okay?”

“Thank you,” you yawned. “I love you, Stiles.”

“Yeah, I love you, too.”

Part 32

#so close #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles slow burn #mccall!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite

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