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danddymaro · 7 months

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Flattered | Vincent Sinclair x Reader

I watched it again lol.

perhaps fluff, ( YK, as far as slashers can get with fluff)

Word count: 1483

Flattered

Your finger lightly petted the falling wax that gently ran down the long, white candle, toying with it betwixt your thumb and pointer before it cooled into a thin coat over them.

You released a little hum before using a nail to peel off the remains with ease, soon feeling just a bit happy with how soft your skin felt afterward.

Though, the delight was short-lived.

- It usually was.

Boredom had you sitting here with a halfhearted gaze, wondering if you'd ever get out.

The man that held you captive did nothing much but put himself to work, occasionally looking back at you to confirm that you were still there.

As if you could go anywhere else but under his nose.

It made no sense as you didn't know where else you could go but sit, making you wonder why he did so, so often.

"I'm not going anywhere," you reminded him in a soft voice as you then lay back on the bed there.

It was the only thing that had been saved from the touch of the melted substance he worked with, and you were grateful. You were surrounded by it.

"Can't," you mumbled before closing your eyes tiredly.

Like hell you'd try anyways when his brother was lurking anywhere the masked one wasn't.

'I'm better off here,' you inwardly mused.

If you were completely honest, you preferred being stuck with this man instead.

At least he just kept you there at a distance, something the other one had trouble doing when you first got into town.

You didn't even want to think about what he would have done to you if Vincent hadn't intervened, pulling you to him with a sort of claim that had you conflicted.

Because you didn't know if being with him was going to be better or worse, luckily, things had gone pleasantly thus far.

-You weren’t dead and that counted as a victory.

He didn't try and touch you, excluding the few moments his soft hands grazed your cheek, feeling the texture of your flesh to what you concluded was inspiration to his more innocent work.

Gently his fingers trailed the line of your lower lip, and as you tried to follow the movement of the exploring digits, your eyes practically glowed at the act.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think of it as anything other than utter interest, but even then he adored the look you possessed.

You quickly lost your initial cowering when you realized he wouldn’t draw lower than our jawline, or roam anywhere else other than your face.

So, you let him do as he pleased, occasionally voicing out little teases that got you little, flustered responses.

‘Having fun?’ you questioned him while trying not to laugh to much at the way his movements would be interrupted by a sudden, minuscule jerk that would be akin to a stutter in someone’s voice.

You noticed the way his fingers would tremble, and for whatever reason it was ….cute.

For just a moment you opened your eyes again, a half-lidded look pointed to where he continued to run the warm metal utensil over little mistakes he’d made.

You blinked your eyes open wide before you suddenly turned your whole head, your face pointed to his direction, your entire body soon following the movement until you lay at your side, observing.

‘Is that what he’s been up to?’ you asked yourself, realizing how it made sense the amount of times he stared at you, studying.

"Is that me?" you asked with a touch of a smile, asking from where you now sat, your legs hanging off from the side of the bed.

At the finishing details, you finally found yourself eased enough to ask just as he took a step back to give it a final once over.

Granted for the past few days, you hadn't talked , but the simple boredom of all those hours had you begging for some interaction.

At your question Vincent turned back to you and nodded slowly before looking down, shifting awkwardly.

You watched as his hands toyed with the tool he held, and as you observed, you detected what was perhaps bashfulness.

His lack of words made his body language much more exaggerated, that was for sure.

But, of course, you didn't mind much.

"Can...um...can I get a better look?" you asked with a crooked smile, waiting for his response.

His head shot up and he looked at you for a long minute before he nodded.

You weren't sure why, but you felt a bit amused before you walked over to him and the wax figure, eyeing it as it was just at your height.

Your hand went out to touch it before it retreated, and you looked up to the massive man, uncertain,

"Can I?" you asked, afraid to ruin his work.

Though, he nodded fiercely, the hand closest to him hesitating before it reached for yours, guiding it towards your replica's face.

That's where you started, petting an eyebrow before skimming down it's chin.

You then brought the hand to your own face, feeling the difference with awe.

"It's amazing," you said while looking op to him, the single eye that stared you down holding appreciation.

Though, you could hardly see it as it was hidden by the shadow of his mask and jet black strands that had framed his face.

"You're really talented," you told him, flattered by the work, moreover appreciating that he had only used you as a muse and not the base for his sculpture.

"I'm nowhere near your skill, but maybe I can sculpt you sometime, " you joked while looking the work over more.

He even caught the fabrics of your clothes right, making you softly sigh.

It had only been a silly remark, because you doubted you could pull it off anyways, but he seemed elated.

his hands both took your wrists captive as he turned you towards him, the act nearly tearing a scream out of you in frightened surprise. Other than the first time he’d practically tore you out of his brother’s brute grasp on you, it was the first time he’d used any real force.

He lightly shook you as he bent down a bit, looking down with a tilted head, not speaking, but communicating with a nearly muted hum you found somewhat endearing.

Quickly, your terror subsided as you took in his response.

"Ah, You like that idea?" you said with a short chuckle, and he nodded quickly, excited.

"I'll take that as a yes," you said as you eased your wrists out of his grip, only doing so thanks to the dying pressure of his hands.

He'd never had anyone try and capture his likeness.

Not even he bothered to do so.

But you had offered, and it was something he didn't know he yearned for until he watched you try and mimic the steps he'd taken to create yours.

You explained to him how you’d work on a much smaller scale, the figure no larger than six inches, giving you a small enough goal that didn’t require all of his precise touches.

He helped you start of, slowly guiding you with silent advise and little nudges you smiled at.

You were somewhat sloppy, and when you weren't, you were far too considerate, your pace careful, almost afraid of messing up.

Soon after, he let you try your hand while he sat back and watched for hours, giving you the workspace needed to become familiar while he stayed out of the way.

However, it didn't mean he sat back and did nothing, because he found the sight of you moving around his usual workspace to be charming as you copied many of his movements , even the unnecessary ones.

It was cute watching you move around in his apron with no real direction.

He’d help you out, but given how determined you were to do it on your own, he refrained from it after you pleaded with him on the first attempt.

Flattered was in no way near what he felt, because it was far greater.

In his sketchbook he recorded the various faces of your process, the purse of your lips, the lines of frustration and consideration that decorated it too.

-And especially your moments of little victories as you saw your efforts pay off.

Even the light smudges of dried wax you had dotted on your cheeks as you wiped them occasionally had been captured.

He recorded it all on paper, and hoped that after he finished the moments, you thought of them as fascinating too.

Gently his fingers ran down the slick wax that protected his face, realizing how warm he felt beneath the mask, his cheeks flushed with color that spread over his ears too.

for a moment you looked back at him, his living muse smiling preciously.

#vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent x you #vincent sinclair x y/n #house of wax x you #house of wax x reader #House of Wax #house of wax x y/n #house of wax fanfiction #house of was fanfic #Slashers #slashers x reader #slasher fics

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moralesmilesanhour · 9 months

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teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 5 [RE-UPLOAD]

summary: presentation day!

wc: ~300+

A/N: hiiii so I'm re-uploading because the original version of this post wasn't letting me link to the next part lmao. I promise the epilogue exists I just couldn't edit the post my bad

prev end

You released a shaky breath as the group just before you wrapped up their presentation. Miles gave you a sidelong glance, noticing the way you clutched your lab report in both hands. You felt him elbow you softly before the two of you took your places at the front of the classroom. Before pulling up your slideshow, he gave you a quick thumbs up and a lopsided smile from behind the laptop. You smiled back at him, and began reciting the results of your lab report.

Miles watched you slowly get comfortable talking as the presentation progressed. The strength and clarity he had heard the other day slipped back into your voice and made it solid. Something clicked when he realized the grin hadn’t left his face for the duration of your part.

The presentation didn’t drag itself out, and was over as soon as he got done working through your chosen problem on the whiteboard. It was the trajectory of a rocket being launched into orbit, nothing crazy. To him.

In a rare show of leniency, Ms. Jones ended class right before the bell.

“Excellent work, everyone. Enjoy your weekend!”

A cluster of backpacks all but swarmed the back door and filtered out into the hallway, excluding you and Miles.

He was doing the neck scratching thing again when you turned to him.

“Thanks for working with me, I think we did a pretty good job,” you said.

The boy nodded wordlessly, and you raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

“Y-yeah, I just…”

Miles shook his head.

“Do you still need to study? For English, I mean.”

You shrugged and answered, “I’m almost done with the book, but I could come over tomorrow if you want.”

If you want.

Miles sniffed. He didn’t “want” anything.

“I mean, we gotta essay coming up, so…”

“Ah, shit, I forgot about that. My final draft’s not even finished,” you winced, throwing your book bag over your shoulder. “Alright, tomorrow, then. Same time?”

Miles fought back another smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Yup. Don’t eat up all my momma’s food while you’re there, though.”

“No promises.”

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

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southern-fried-simpin · 2 years

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Taking a bath with the Gotham Bois 🛁🧼 | Part 1

A/N: Excluding Bruce because, where I’m at in Gotham, he’s still a child.

Warnings: Implied nudity, baths (obviously), Jerome, teensy bit of nsfw content, fluffy things

Jerome Valeska

“I don’t need a bath!” “You are literally covered in blood.” “NO!” “I’ll get in with you ~”

Boi took his clothes off right there, no shame whatsoever, he absolutely did not care that the blinds were open either

But before you both actually get in the tub he stops in his tracks and just starts rummaging through your cabinets and/or the bathroom closet

Finally he emerges, buck ass naked with a triumphant grin on his face and holding bath bombs, some bath oil, salts and a rubber ducky for each of you because obviously it’s not a proper bath until there’s a rubber ducky, c’mon Y/n get with the program

Congratulations, you have successfully gotten Jerome in the bathtub 🛁

But now you have to actually get him to wash himself and not constantly try to grope whatever parts of you he can get his hands on…Good luck and Godspeed, partner.

Eventually you get him to allow you to wash him if he gets to wash you

And lemme tell you, he is having the time of his life not just because he’s being washed by you, but also because of the bubbles and brightly colored bath bombs

It wouldn’t surprise me if Jerome didn’t get to have fun little bath toys and such growing up so this is lowkey therapeutic for him 🥺🥺🥺

Baths are now a regular occurrence in your household, so just be prepared to repeat this entire process at least once a week

Jervis Tetch

Nervous Boi ™

You asked if he wanted to bathe with you while you were both discussing your plans for that night, assuming he would successfully pull off a heist he had arranged that day.

The kicker? It’s the first time you’ll have been intimate with each other, aside from maybe changing into a disguise in the same room after needing to get the cops of y’all’s trail

The poor man nearly choked

He tried to regain his composure and act all charismatic but he was failing. So. Freaking. Hard.

So spoiler: the heist was successful! Now he just has to calm his nerves before going home to his wonderful Alice!

And there you are when he walks in the door: wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and you look so cute he has to pretend to clear his throat so you don’t hear the little squeal he let out when he saw you 🥺

So, finally it’s bath time: Bath is setup with some nice oils and some green tea bubble bath (because ya know…tea ☕️) and now you actually get to partake in the lovely bath you’ve drawn! Yay!

However Jervis has suddenly developed some stage fright

“Jervis, is something wrong?” “Oh no, nothing at all dear! I just…um…well-“ “Aw, darling, are you nervous? Here.”

Boom. Robe is gone and so is his stage fright, you have his full attention, and his admiration.

Oh, he can’t believe how beautiful his Alice is. And he’s very vocal about it.

“My darling Alice, I do so wish we had done this sooner, all the flowers in all of Wonderland aren’t nearly as beautiful as you ~”

Cuddles while bathing 🥺

Can and will whisper sweet nothings in your ear while he washes you

He loves the feeling of you washing his hair

He practically purrs when you do it but don’t tell anyone

Loves bathing with you and usually is the one to propose bathing together from then on ❤️

Jonathan Crane

So it’s pretty normal for Jon to be in a constant state of…not dirty but not clean either

He’s more of a quick shower kinda guy and he will usually wash with literally just a bar of soap. Shampoo? Conditioner? Sorry we don’t know her.

Usually you’re okay with it, as long as he doesn’t smell of sweat and fear toxin, but one day you just lose it.

“Let go of me, I’m not finished wi-“ He rambles woefully about his work as you drag him to the bathroom.

He lays eyes on the bathtub and there’s panic in his eyes as he realizes you are now undressing him the way a mother would do her toddler who played in the mud outside. (Don’t worry he’s fine with it he’s just shook atm)

“No! Hey-“ he groaned and ran his fingers frustratedly through his hair “I took a shower yesterday I don’t need anotherAH-“

You pushed him into the bathtub because face it, honey, he wasn’t going to go peacefully

He’s so busy pouting and muttering about how he’s “wasting precious time that could be spent perfecting his toxin” and “Doesn’t even need a bath” that he didn’t even register you undressing until you got in with him

At which point, he fell silent and wasn’t sure what to do when you started washing him, he almost leaned away from your touch but stopped himself

It might take a few minutes for him to stop being so nervous, he’s shy 🥺 What?! No he’s not scared, he’s the Master Of Fear!

He’ll ask if it’s okay for him to wash you before making a move and when you say yes, he suddenly gets this look on his face like he’s this 👌🏼 close to figuring out the answer to a question on jeopardy

And then he immediately shifts from determination and being methodical to a soft gentle boi as he goes to wash your hair

Btw Wash his hair and then just watch as he becomes completely and utterly relaxed, he’ll literally start purring like a cat

Okay so maybe taking time to bathe isn’t that bad

He’s going to still be a little apprehensive towards baths, just because he’s a workaholic but once you’ve got him on board, he’s happy to get in the tub with you

Edward Nygma (Post-Riddler)

So unlike the other men on this list, it was actually his idea to bathe with you!

In a rare moment of Ed wanting to have a simple, and not an exceedingly extravagant, date with you, he opted for a date night in.

However, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t made the bath itself exceedingly extravagant. 😅

You come home from work, drop your things by the door, too tired to carry anything but yourself to your shared bedroom and gracefully plop onto the bed.

Then, from the bathroom, you hear Ed’s voice: “I hold water, but I have no hands, I run but have no legs, and I am…pretty much required in every house and home…what am I?”

You raise your head exhaustedly, “A bath…or…” you try to not bring down his mood but you’re also so tired. So you walk into the bathroom and there’s your adorable nerd standing next to a bath with rose petals, plenty of bubbles and floofy towels for the both of you 🥺

“It was actually a bathtub, but you were close enough, I suppose.” He is already undressed so the only thing left to do is for you to get undressed and get in the bath together 🥰

Lots of kissing and cuddling ❤️❤️❤️

Also playing with bubbles (it’s you more than Ed, but he’s not complaining)

And of course: facts about bathing and showering 🤓

“So…wait…people in the Middle Ages only bathed four times a year?!” “Yup, after Christmas, on Easter, at the end of June, and the end of September!”

#gotham x reader #jerome valeska #gotham #jonathan crane #gotham edward nygma #jervis tetch

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allycat004 · 10 months

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Perfect to Me

Disclaimer: This is fluff with mentions of smut. This fic was based off of and inspired by a Chapter in a book I'm currently reading, Mile High by Liz Tomforde.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female reader

Summary: You are had a bad day and on top of that begin to feel self-concious about your body. Steve comes home and finds you crying then comes up with a way to cheer you up.

Word count: 1,452

I woke up this morning hoping today was going to be a good day, but things did not go the way I had hoped. I dropped my coffee on the way to my internship and something I had been working on for weeks was deleted, it was gone. The only thing I really had going for me today, was my date later on with Steve. It was the one thing I had been looking forward to all week.

I ended up getting home earlier than I had anticipated so I decided to take the extra time I had to finish a book while making sure I had time to get ready. After I finished my book, I decided to have a small snack before I got ready. Then when I was done I showered, did my hair, and did my makeup. When that was all done with, I went into my closet to pick out my outfit.

Recently, I was trying to go out of my comfort zone because I was really self-conscious about my body, my curves. Being with Steve and having his support along with his encouragement was really helpful. So, I decided to go with the pleather jeans that I got at the mall a few days ago, a corset top, and my panda dunks. I laid out my outfit on my bed and took a deep breath then started to put it on.

After having to jump to pull my jeans all the way up, I tried to button them and they won’t button. I tried three times and they still wouldn’t button, when I had bought them they fit me perfectly. The thing is, is that my body weight fluctuates all the time or I tend to be super bloated some days rather than others, I guess today was just one of those days where I was more bloated than usual.

“ You’ve got to be kidding me, no, no, no, please don’t do this to me right now. “ I whined and sat on the bed trying to relax myself and not get super worked up. I took a few deep breaths then put my top on, which I had no problems with. So, I decided to wait a little bit before trying to get my pants to button again because I didn’t want to give up on them just yet.

I got up, walked back into the closet, closed the door behind me, and stood in front of the mirror that was hanging behind the door. The moment I looked at myself in the mirror, I knew coming into the closet was a bad idea. One look at myself was all it took for me to become self-conscious and due to that I started to try and take off the jeans, but they got stuck on my thighs.

“ Fuck, son of a bitch ! “ I slightly yelled then I looked back up into the mirror because I couldn’t help it and saw how the jeans looked stuck to my thighs. Which was my breaking point and I just started crying and put my face in my hands.

“ Y/N- baby, what’s wrong? “ Steve asked, which caused me to snap my head up because I didn’t know he was home, I must’ve not heard him come in.

“ I- n- nothing. “ I sniffled.

“ Sweetheart, you’re crying, what’s making you so upset? “ He asked, then came into the closet, stood behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed my shoulder.

“ I- i’m just having a bad day, that’s all. “ I wiped my face and then explained to him what had happened today leading up to now, excluding how I felt about my body at the moment.

“ We all have bad days Y/N, it’s gonna be okay. “ Steve said then he rested his head on my shoulder. “ Now, besides what happened today, what else is causing you trouble, hm? “ He asked and I sighed because I knew I couldn’t lie to him.

“ I- I just… I really don’t like my body. “ I sniffled and looked up into the mirror and made eye contact with him, he was frowning, but quiet.

“ Do you trust me? “ He asked.

“ O- of course I trust you. “ I replied.

“ Okay… here, let’s get you out of these clothes, alright. “ He said, but waited for confirmation that I was okay with this, I hesitated a little before nodding. After I gave him permission, Steve helped me out of my clothes and now I was just standing in front of the mirror in my underwear with him hugging me from behind.

“ Okay, let’s try something… tell me some things that you like about yourself. “ He said.

“ …. Nothing. “ I replied as I looked up into the mirror.

“ Come on Y/N, I know that’s not true. “ Steve said.

I sighed and looked at myself for a little bit before I said anything. “ I like my eyes. “ I said.

“ I love your eyes baby, they’re so pretty… what else? “ He replied as he kissed my cheek, which made me smile a little.

“ uhm… I like my hair, how long and shiny it is. “ I said.

“ I love your hair, now what else? “ Steve said.

“ That’s it… “ I replied as I looked at him in the mirror and he just nodded.

“ Alright… then tell me what you don’t like about yourself. “ He replied while looking back at me in the mirror, making eye contact with me.

“ I don’t like my thighs. “ I whispered, then I watched him place his hands on them.

“ I love your thighs. “ Steve said as he gave them a light squeeze. “ I like them when I rest my head in your lap and I especially like them when they are warming up the sides of my face when I go down on you. “ I laughed a little at his response, which caused him to smile. “ But what I like most about them is when you’re sitting on my lap, facing me with your thighs straddling my legs because I like getting to see your pretty face. “

“ What else is there that you don’t like? “ He asked and I thought about it for a moment and let my eyes wander.

“ I don’t like my stomach, I would like it to be flatter. “ I said as I looked to the side and away from the mirror.

“ I love your stomach. “ He replied and I felt his hands graze over it, which caused me to look back into the mirror. “ I love how soft it is, that I have a little something extra to hold while we’re cuddling… or fucking. “

“ I- Steve ! “ I laughed while shaking my head.

“ Just being honest here Y/N. “ Steve said with a boyish grin.

“ Well… I also don’t like my boobs. “ I said before he could even ask me to name something else and he looked at me like I offended him.

“ You’re kidding, “ he replied “ There is no way that’s true, those are my two favorite things. “

I laughed, “ I don’t like that they aren’t the same size. “ I stated.

“ Which is okay because you’re only human baby, plus I don’t have favorites. It’s impossible for me to pick between them. “ He said as he kissed my head and I chuckled.

“ I don’t really like my stretch marks.” I said and I watched in the mirror as he glided his hands along them then wrapped his arms back around my waist.

“ Well I love them because I think that it’s pretty fucking cool that your body can adapt, I mean don’t you think that’s awesome? “ He said and I smiled.

“ When you put it that way, yeah.. It is pretty fucking awesome. “ I replied while chuckling and he kissed my cheek.

After all of that, I felt better and we decided to stay in for the night. I put on some pajamas and we ordered in and watched our favorite show while cuddling in the living room. Since we were both getting tired, we decided to head into our room and cuddle in. Steve pulled me in close and I rested my head on his chest, he then kissed my head and started playing with my hair.

“ I know that you won’t love your body every single day, but that’s okay because I will love it for the both of us. I will also be there and be your biggest supporter, to help cheer you up like I did today. You are perfect to me Y/N and you always will be. “ He whispered and my eyes teared up a little bit.

“ I love you Steve Harrington. “ I said

“ I love you too baby. “ Steve replied, then he kissed my head and eventually we both drifted off to sleep.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fandom #bodypositivity #self love

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prideofcelestia · 2 years

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❝ he stands you up on a date without meaning to but later comes to apologise and comfort you ❞

« gender neutral reader »

« scenario »

« pairing - solomon x reader »

« request by anon. simeon's part »

❝ Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference. ❞

— The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

i. when curiosity calls, my footsteps begin to echo on their own

If the Devildom was a maze of secrets, this sorcerer was an explorer. His alert eyes observed and recorded every little detail. He noticed how the roads there had a habit of rearranging at will to include and exclude routes so one often came across new additions.

While on the way to meet you for a date, when Solomon stood at a familiar intersection only to find a new shortcut (apparently) to his desired destination (you), he couldn’t resist the urge to take it. He reasoned that he was running a little early so he might as well indulge himself and see where it leads to.

But.

Curiosity killed the cat…

His decision proved fatal because the path he took was a mischievous one and played all sorts of tricks on him.

Time slowed down there.

What felt like minutes to him were hours for you.

ii. when did the warmth i felt turn into this cold loneliness?

You tapped your feet impatiently and looked at your watch. The tickets that you held in your hands felt heavier than it had done a few moments ago.

What was the point when the movie was over?

Your mood was ruined as your hand wrapped around the tickets, wrinkling them. After throwing those in the bin nearby, you summoned Asmodeus because you didn’t have the strength to walk all the way back alone.

The Avatar of Lust looked crestfallen as he wrapped his arms around your trembling shoulders and rubbed your back soothingly.

“Oh [Name], don’t cry hon. I’m so sorry. Something must have come up for him to go to the Valley of Thorns.”

…

…What?

Freeing yourself from his hold, you stared accusingly at him. “Asmo, what’s this Valley of Thorns?”

Asmodeus looked uncomfortable as he swayed back and forth and tried to avert his gaze. He should have kept it inside the darkest part of his heart but it was too late now.

He spoke hesitantly, “Well… I saw him earlier. He took the path to a place in the Devildom reserved for extremely skilled sorcerers. It’s called Valley of Thorns. I wondered why he wasn’t going to meet you… I’m sorry I didn’t stop him.”

So, he deserted you for business. A phone call wouldn’t have hurt. Right? Then again, it was Solomon. He had the tendency to vanish for weeks on end without prior notice. It was foolish of you to expect special treatment. Work always came first with him.

To be fair, he had become the strongest sorcerer by himself and he’ll keep improving long after you are gone.

Still.

You needed someone who could value your time.

The time that he had in abundance and you had in the palm of your hands — so fleeting and fragile.

Time.

You gulped the bitter feeling of betrayal and moved on. “Let’s go back home, Asmo.”

iii. if you hear me tapping on your heart, keep an ear out for the “i love you”

The call came at 2 in the morning. Since nobody called you that late at night, your sleep-addled brain expected the absolute worst. It must be an emergency! You didn’t want to ignore the phone call only to learn in the morning that Beelzebub was out eating pillars that were the foundation of the house or that Lotan had flooded the entire house and you could have possibly drowned.

Putting the D.D.D against your ear, you said drowsily, “Mmm?”

“Thank goodness you picked up. [Name] I’m sorr-”

Cut!

On second thoughts, switching off your D.D.D sounded like a good option. Sadly, there was no peace for you in the Devildom because you soon heard audible taps on your window.

Getting up abruptly, your fingers dug into your bed sheet in horror when Solomon’s familiar voice made you sigh in relief. At least, that feral bastard was safe. For the most part, that was.

Huffing, you walked to the source of the sound and parted your curtains. Your complaints died down in your throat when you saw the exhausted look on his face. “[Name], can I come inside?”

Before you could come up with a witty retort, he lost footing but quickly summoned a spell to be suspended in midair. While floating, he turned to you with a sheepish grin and innocent eyes.

You let him inside to stop the madness.

After dusting his cloak and stretching, he walked towards you and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t show up. Quite a few things happened. Asmo texted me saying that he had told you about some of it.”

He sighed dejectedly, “I thought I was taking a shortcut but it turns out that it was a cursed road that likes luring people in. As I later realised, it was the path to the Valley of Thorns and it’s designed to be challenging to reach the place. I was exhausted by the time I met all the sorcerers who live there.”

He looked conflicted as a deep frown settled on his features. Shuffling on his feet restlessly, he said, “I’d have liked to stay and chat with them but I came back at once.”

Your anger was nowhere near gone so you turned around sharply and spat, “So why did you come back? You could have had your date there, right?”

“Because no one there was you. I wanted to see you and spend time with you only.”

The sad lines around your eyes didn’t escape him and he was glad to see those melt a little.

With his signature smile, he asked, “Would you like to cuddle now that I'm here?”

“No. Not until I get that date you promised.”

“Okay. No problem.”

He magically summoned a screen on your wall and the movie you had plans to watch earlier started playing. Without ado, he plopped down on your bed and offered his arm as a pillow. “Our own movie theatre. I can be your personal blanket so come here.”

“...No thanks.”

He raised his eyebrows without making any sign of pulling his arm back. “I just fulfilled all your conditions right?”

Pouting, you said, “... Yes... Okay so... Let me bring popcorn and I better find you lying in that exact position when I come back! If you move, I'll kick you out!”

As you raced out with a grin, you could hear his low chuckle and some soothing words.

“I swear that this time I’ll keep my promise.”

#obey me #obey me x reader #gender neutral reader #obey me x mc #gender neutral mc #obey me!#obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x mc #angst to comfort #obey me one master to rule them all #shion script #obey me scenario

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imjustasimpxd · 1 year

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All Actions Have Consequences | Chapter Three

➬ Kento Nanami x Fem reader

Pairing : Mafia Kento Nanami x fem reader

Summary : They say evil actions can be done with good intentions, this is especially true for Kento Nanami. Growing up, he was taught to always remain honest, respectful, and hard working. For the most part he was, that is, until being fired from his job forced him into a financial chokehold. Desperate to figure out a way to provide for his wife, Nanami crosses paths with the leader of his country’s biggest underground mafia empire, deciding to secretly work under them in order to make ends meet. We know desperate times call for desperate measures, but how long can Nanami hide this vile profession from his wife before it comes back to bite him?

Word count : Almost 4,000 words

Warnings : slight kissing and affection, Nanami is anxious and nervous, mentions of “verbally abusive behavior”,

Author’s notes : reblogs are appreciated!! I appreciate all feedback on my writing so that I can know what you guys liked and what you think I should improve on😊

Disclaimer : this is a work of fiction and should in no way, shape, or form, be taken seriously.

Side Note : this fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

Nanami had one hand on the wheel while his other was kept intertwined with yours, fingers rubbing back and forth in a gentle manner across your skin. His touch was so tender, so loving and patient: a complete contrast to the way he was feeling on the inside.

Although he was clearly trying his best to deliver a calming and peaceful atmosphere through his actions, there was still an undeniably heavy sense of tension looming around the two of you.

The radio loudly played an upbeat melody that could be heard from all corners of the vehicle, however, the car ride over to your parent’s house still felt silent all the same.

Nanami’s muscles were tense as his hand gripped around yours, his face adorned a slight scowl, and even his voice when he did speak up felt hesitant and quiet.

Despite the unconvincing “I’m just tired from work” he had given earlier when you asked why he seemed so uptight, you still knew something was troubling him. You resisted the urge to ask him again because you knew what kind of answer you’d get, but regardless, it didn’t change the fact that you could practically feel the conflict brewing inside him.

You didn’t have to be a detective to know why he was acting this way, you were all too familiar with the anxiety your husband displayed whenever it came time to see your father in person. There was an ever-present sense of dread that seemed to settle around him whenever meetings between the two men took place.

A wave of guilt festered inside your stomach as you gazed at your husband’s nervous expression, noticing the subtle tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel beginning to pick up its pace.

It pained you to make him go when you understood how much he was dreading it, however, it pained you even more to continue to watch your own husband and father not get along.

Sure it wasn’t as big of a deal right now since you hardly saw your parents, but what about holidays? What about family gatherings? Were you supposed to just exclude your own husband from those meaningful events to avoid any conflict arising?

What about when you had kids? How could you bear letting your children see the way their grandfather would treat their own father? Would your Dad even love your children the same knowing that they were just as much a part of Nanami as they were of you? What if one of the kids looked like Nanami? What would happen then? Surely your father wouldn’t verbally abuse his own grandchild the way he did his own son-in-law.

There were so many questions, so many uncertainties arising because of the conflict between two of the most important men in your life. This marriage wasn’t just the bonding of two people, it was the bonding of two families as well, and if either of those families wanted to live in peace together then they’d have to find a way to get along.

None of this would fix itself, and frankly, none of this pain and frustration was going to disappear either unless you did something about it. So, no matter what it took, in order to create a better future for everyone involved in this unity, you promised yourself you’d work your hardest to get your father to see Kento Nanami the way you did: As the selfless and kind man he truly was.

You didn’t know exactly what it was about your husband that seemed to always set your father’s teeth on edge, but regardless, you’d stand by Kento’s side and defend him against anything your father could throw at him. Because Nanami wasn’t just some random guy you used to have a class with during college: No, he was the first man you ever truly felt valued with.

Of course, there had been other men in your life before your husband came along, even one you almost married. And it’s not like any of those men were bad people, one in particular you had known since you were a young girl, and even back then he had always been tremendously kind and sweet towards you. But regardless, it didn’t change the fact that they all, including him, had been arranged by your father to be your potential husband.

No matter what meaningful gestures they would commit, or whatever affectionate words that would slip past their mouths: none of it could convince you of their feelings. It may have come off as hard to please now that you thought about it, but honestly, with the temptation of a mountain of wealth only accessible by your hand in marriage, who wouldn’t blame you for being skeptical of every man your father pushed towards you; no matter how loving they truly were.

It was a dreadful way to live: never knowing if a man’s affection was given based on his actual love for you, or for his selfish desire to gain your money and position by marrying you.

That’s why you turned down every suitor your father sent your way no matter how upset it made him, and that’s exactly why you married Kento Nanami instead.

Because Kento Nanami was the first man who showed genuine affection towards you without knowing anything about your wealth and social status.

In fear of the same uncertainty arising with any other man, you had kept your family’s identity a secret from everyone when you attended that college; so Nanami was never even aware you had a sky-high inheritance lingering around you.

However, even when you finally did confess your background to him, Kento Nanami never once become greedy because of it, nor did he ever give up on pursuing you despite your father threatening to take away any money he’d get if you married him.

Whether it was something as simple as his gentle gaze when it remained on you, or something as monumental as when he blatantly declared that he would willingly work multiple jobs just to provide for you: either way, in your heart, Kento Nanami had proved that he undoubtedly loved you for you, and you only.

You had heard every compliment known to man, received every bit of “special treatment” a man dating you should give, but none of it felt special until it came from Nanami. The words “you look beautiful” had been spoken to you millions of times already, but it only ever had you blushing when it was said by Nanami.

Because with him it felt real, it felt genuine.

“Is this just an act?” “Does he really love me like he says?”

Those words had anxiously rummaged around inside your brain with every man you had been with; every single one except the man who now sat next to you, the same one whose hand was clasped around yours as he pressed the brake pedal in response to the red light straight ahead.

“Does he really love me like he says he does?”

You never had to ask yourself that question when it came to Nanami; he had already assured you of that answer millions of times through his actions alone; and he would continue to do so for as long as life would allow him.

That’s why, no matter how hard it was to feel separated from your family, or how painful it was to hear “you deserve better” from the people you were close to: you wouldn’t yield in your fight to defend your husband.

He was hated not just by your family, but by your friends as well, and anyone else who cared for you: because all they ever saw him for was a greedy little gold-digger.

However, you prayed that would change tonight, and you were already starting to feel the slightest bit hopeful about that possibility since your father had willingly invited you and your husband over for dinner.

Maybe this was a turning point?

Maybe… things would finally change… for the better…

The car quickly came to a stop in the circular drive of your parent’s house, its headlights illuminating one of the most achingly beautiful houses Kento Nanami had ever seen.

He had been to your parent’s mansion several times, and even now he couldn’t deny its breathtaking structure and design. The exterior was draped with dozens of stone columns and a couple of large balconies; the fountain that stood in the middle of the yard was flowing at a rapid pace. Even the panels lining the windows and doors looked as if they cost more than Nanami’s paycheck. Everything about the house itself was beyond mesmerizing, but it wasn’t exactly the same case with the people who lived inside.

A shuddering breath escaped Nanami’s lips as he turned off the car, his hand anxiously reaching to grasp the handle so he could get out. However, before he could, your voice suddenly filled the air, stopping him in his place before he could open the door.

“Ken?”

His head quickly whipped around to look you in the eyes. “Yeah?” He questioned, curious to know what you were needing.

“You don’t have to be nervous about the dinner, okay?” You spoke frankly, watching Kento’s eyes widen, his face soon rotating away from you in a sheepish manner once you began exposing the thoughts he was hoping to keep concealed.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re-t-talking…” Your husband quickly scrambled to deny your veracious assumptions, his words stuttering past his lips as he attempted to convince you otherwise. But no matter how hard he could try, you’d never fall for it, and deep down, a small part of him knew it too.

“Ken?” You spoke in order to get his attention, placing your hand reassuringly on his shoulder subsequently. “You don’t have to worry about tonight, I’ll be there the entire time, okay?” Your fingers softly caressed his back, watching as his head turned towards you once again, his heart softening instantly once he met your gentle gaze.

“I know.” He spoke with a hushed sigh, his hand reaching to hold the one you had placed atop his shoulder. “I just don’t really feel like being belittled tonight.”

You felt your heart sink at the way your husband’s expressions lowered, the color seeming to drain from his face as he sat there, contemplating all the things that could go wrong once he stepped foot inside that beautiful mansion.

It was painful to have to witness, but in the end, you knew this would all be worth it if the relationship between your husband and your father improved.

“I know honey,” You agreed with him, lifting your free hand to swipe away the few strands of blonde hair hanging across his forehead. “But hey,” you continued, “if at any point you feel uncomfortable, then just tell me and we’ll leave, alright?”

A gentle smile stretched across your face as you spoke, followed by one last sentence your husband didn’t realize he needed to hear before now.

“We’re a team Kento, and I don’t plan on switching sides anytime soon.”

Nanami’s subtle scowl immediately softened at your words, his heartbeat slowing momentarily as he stared at you, wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Even after marrying him made you lose your livelihood, and caused a separation between you and your family, here you still were, willing to defend him at a moment’s notice if it were necessary.

“Thank you sweetheart.” Nanami leaned forward to place an affectionate kiss on your forehead, his words soft and warm as he mumbled them against your skin.

“You’re welcome.” You answered, a gentle giggle suddenly tickling at your throat when your husband’s lips began to linger on your face, trailing down to plant a couple more kisses on your cheeks and the tip of your nose; then continuing as his lips started to journey down towards your neck.

“Ken! Stop, we need to go inside!” Your hands moved to find his chest, using it to push yourself away with another bubbly giggle.

“Don’t worry love, they won’t care if we’re a little late.” He teased, allowing a bold smirk to line his lips as he started leaning back over the center console, hoping to finish his work.

“Mr. Nanami! Don’t say things like that outside my parent’s house!” Your hands lifted to cover your face as you felt a familiar warmth painting across your cheeks. You were blushing hard, embarrassingly hard; almost as if this was your first time ever being kissed by him, or in general.

“Hmm, looks like someone’s a little shy tonight.” He shook his head playfully at your behavior, chuckling to himself as he watched the way you blindly swatted him away. “Guess you want me to wait till later then, huh?” He added, immediately earning a flustered “Yes, please wait!” as you continued to cover your face, still hopelessly failing to hide the crimson shading traveling across your cheeks.

“Fine,” He pulled away, a soft whine lacing with his tone as he spoke. “But I’m continuing where I left off when we get home.”

Your eyes peeked from behind your hands, finally placing them down at your sides again when you saw him reach for his door handle. Once he stepped outside the vehicle, Nanami’s body then made its way around the front of the car to stop at your side, grasping the handle to pull your door open and offering a hand to help you out.

As your hand laced with his, using it to step out of the car, Nanami glanced behind him, eyes looming over the beautiful mansion he had been dreading the entire car ride over. His breath became staggered once more as he stared that luxurious house down, his brain already preparing itself for the argument-filled evening he figured was coming his way.

It would’ve been an understatement to say that Nanami was not looking forward to hearing your father’s insults tonight. However, an even bigger understatement was to say that Nanami was quite shocked when he was greeted with a warm smile as your father opened the front doors to the mansion.

“Well look who it is. I’m glad you two made it!”

The both of you stood frozen in place, eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before you. There your father was, smiling ear to ear as held the door open for the both of you, his appearance suggesting he was actually happy to see you two.

Nanami quickly glanced down at you in search of answers, hoping maybe you knew what was going on. However, when he inspected your face, he saw a perplexed expression that matched the one spread across his own features; telling him you were just as confused as he was when it came to the sudden shift in your father’s behavior.

“Please, make yourselves at home.” He grinned, motioning for the both of you to step inside.

Make yourselves at home? Nanami had never been welcomed in this home, at least not by your father. So to stand there, and watch the same man who used to curse Kento’s very existence, now act friendly and welcoming towards him, as if the two men were old friends, was truly a sight to behold.

“It’s good to see you dad.” You quickly broke the silence by stepping inside, lacing an arm around your father’s back to give him a gentle hug.

“It’s good to see you too darling.” He responded, his arms wrapping around you as well to return the hug. Your father’s eyes then glanced up at your husband who had just finished walking through the doorway, his lips parting to surprisingly acknowledge the man. “And Kento, my dear boy, it’s good to see you.”

Your husband almost fainted right then and there. This had to be a dream, right? Because there’s no way he was hearing this right now. Maybe there was another man named Kento coming up behind him and that’s who your father was speaking to. That had to be it! Because there was no other explanation that made sense.

However, as your husband subtly looked over his shoulder, he found no one: meaning those words really were directed towards him.

“Oh um,” Namami quickly cleared his throat as he turned back around, “-it’s good to see you too sir.” He stuttered, still feeling awkward and overwhelmed by the whole thing.

After shaking the hand that was held out to him, your father then went on to spell out the itinerary for the rest of the night. “I have to go help your mother real quick, but there’s a bunch of people here to see you two, so please enjoy yourselves. Dinner will be ready in just a little bit.” His smile was wide and bright, his hand lifting in the air to send a friendly wave to the both of you before he walked off, leaving you and your husband silently standing by the front entryway; minds still overflowing with confusion.

“What was that?” You felt your husband’s gentle voice whisper near your ear as he joined you at your side, his arm lacing around your waist in the process.

“I don’t know,” you glanced up at him. “But he did say he wanted to make amends. Maybe that’s what he’s doing?”

Nanami doubted that immensely. He was fully aware that people could change with time, however, even given the amount of time it’s been since their last interaction, he still found it awfully suspicious that your father’s attitude could have changed this much by now.

“Just try to give him a chance okay?”

That was the very last thing your husband wanted to do, although, as he looked down at you, taking in that hopeful expression you were wearing, he knew exactly what you were thinking. You weren’t as skeptical as he was when it came to your father’s recent show of behavior. In fact, the whole thing seemed to bring you some reassurance that tonight might actually turn out the way you’d been praying for. Even though Nanami wasn’t convinced, he didn’t want to demolish that optimism you were clinging to, so he knew he’d have to cooperate.

“Okay, I will.” He forced a smile, retracting his hand from your waist and moving it downwards to entangle your fingers with his.

You flashed him a thankful grin, allowing your head to lean against his arm before your lips separated to speak once more. “I wonder though,” You began, eyes squinting to investigate the rest of the mansion from where you stood near the front door. “Dad said there were people here to see us. But I thought this was just a dinner between the four of us?”

Come to think of it, Nanami did recall your father saying that. I guess his words just hadn’t even registered yet due to the shock you both were in at the surprisingly friendly atmosphere you were greeted with earlier.

Still, now that he thought it over, that might be playing a part in your father’s behavior. With the presence of other people around he would be forced to behave, lest he wanted to risk receiving a bad reputation.

Not that it would probably even affect him that much if he was talked about as being “demeaning” and “harsh.” With full control of one of the largest food companies in the entire country, the man didn’t exactly have to worry about losing his position over something as minimal as being “bad mannered.”

But regardless, rumors and gossip is annoying to have to deal with, so the existence of people other than his family could prove reason enough to be acting as friendly and kind as your father was behaving.

“Maybe he just-” Nanami had begun to speak, however, his words were quickly jerked to a halt when the thunderous sound of a man’s voice suddenly called out your name.

“Hey, Y/n!!”

Both Kento’s head, as well as yours, jerked upwards in unison, eager to identify the voice that had interrupted your private chat.

A quiet gasp immediately escaped your husband’s lips once he caught sight of the voice, instantly recognizing him as the tall and arrogant individual he had always hoped to avoid: Satoru Gojo.

“How are you?! It’s been so long!”

Nanami watched as the bothersome scene took place right before his very eyes. Your hand suddenly released the grip it had around your husband’s fingers and immediately your arms stretched in the air for when the white-haired man would quickly engulf you in a tight hug; his hands seeming to instinctively slick themselves around your waist in a manner that made Nanami’s eyes twitch in annoyance.

The two had never met, but Kento had heard enough stories from you to realize who this man was: the one you practically grew up with due to the fact that your family’s companies were in partnership with each other.

Your husband was fully aware that the two of you were apparently very close to each other, however, he never realized exactly how close until he heard you open your mouth to speak to the man.

“Toru! I didn’t know you were back from America yet. Why didn’t you tell me?” Your face lit up with excitement, a gentle smile adorning your lips as you gazed towards the man’s mesmerizingly cerulean eyes.

Wait “Toru?” So you had a nickname for him too? How long has that been in use?

“I just got back a couple of days ago,” Gojo responded, only just now releasing the grip his arms had previously captivated you in. “I was going to tell you, but your father invited me over so I figured I’d surprise you when you got here instead.” A wide grin spread across the man’s face as he kindly glanced down at you, his eyes looming with a sense of familiarity that made your husband’s hands irritably tighten into fists.

“Well, you certainly did.” You laughed playfully, witnessing the way Gojo’s eyes peered behind you to glance at your husband, the one you left awkwardly standing near the front door.

“And you must be the handsome Kento I’ve heard so much about,” Gojo made his way over to Nanami, holding his hand out in order to formally greet him for the first time.

Your husband did his best to hide the scowl manifesting across his face since he knew you were looking, but gosh it was hard when this man was already getting on Nanami’s last nerve.

What’s with that smirk plastered across his face? Was he mocking him? What about the handshake, what was that supposed to mean? Was he trying to be rude? Or had the man just been in America too long that he was just used to that by now?

It had only been a couple of minutes since meeting him, even less time actually interacting with him, but even so, Satoru Gojo was proving himself to be a pain in the rear; well, to Nanami at least.

Still, as much as Nanami wished he could grab your hand and yank you both out that front door, he knew there was no way out of this: meaning he’d have to actually acknowledge the white-haired man he always dreaded having to meet. So, after a quick clear of his throat, your husband finally obliged and stuck his hand out, uttering a simple sentence in the process.

“Just call me Mr. Nanami please.”

If you want to see what the mansion in this episode looks like then click here🤗

✴️HELLO GUYS, I apologize for being so inactive lately! I’ve just been EXTREMELY BUSY. School has been honestly so mentally draining right now, to the point where I wasn’t even getting much sleep. So because of this, I was way too stressed out to even be able to write anything. However, while it’s still difficult, I’m doing better now, and was able to FINALLY come out with chapter three of this series! SO PLEASE ENJOY!✴️

Series Taglist : @4lch3mist @hellobinayxo @haikioo @deepinballs @bunnslut @importanthingsthatiforget @lucacangettathisass @djarum04 @aerangi @atsumulovemail @nanagoswife @hyperfixationsporfavor @mykuronekome @clxvxer @unknownrat08 @fat1mafushiguro @burnch @vflvr @hojicha-expresso @mvteria @helloitsshitzulover @rafs13 @fushigurvos @erenputurchildreninsideme @adequate-superstar @vinkiesz @nanamin94 @thebadbatch @izukuisbaby @simp-lauren @citrusteaa

⚠️Attention people on my tag lists⚠️ - it takes a LONG TIME for me to tag all of you, so please, out of curiosity of me, leave a comment or reblog at the very least since I’m taking the time to tag you <33

This fic, and everything else I’ve written on my blog, is mine and only mine. I work very hard on everything I write so do not, under any circumstances, modify, copy, or steal my work.

If you want to be tagged in any of my works, whether it’s for a certain fandom, certain character, etc. please let me know in the comments below so I can add you. :)

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marsrize · 2 years

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SURPRISE! [Part 5 of 5]

Part 1: Here | Part 2: Here | Part 3: Here | Part 4: Here

Summary : Jason tells Marinette the truth.

Chapter 5: My life is a joke

It was Sunday, early in the morning. It was time for the meeting between the members of the Bat-clan and especially between the siblings. Well, with the older ones. Damian and Marinette were far too young, so they had stayed with Alfred. Damian had protested vehemently, but surprisingly (for him at that time), Marinette was the one who made him submit.

"I'm blood, you have no right to exclude me I'm not a child!"

Dick was trying to calm Damian down, when Marinette spoke up.

"Damian... Can't you shut up a little?"

"You-..."

"If you don't want to be treated like a child, then don't act like one."

Damian stared at her, then gritted his teeth in obvious anger. He was about to retort, but Alfred cut the conversation short.

Bruce had left a will. He'd had one prepared for a long time in case something happened to him as Batman. The will had been changed many times by Bruce, with his adopted children being added as they came along.

Thus, each of them had received a share of the Wayne legacy (yes, even he had a share, which shocked him to no end). And Jason discovered that Bruce was actually planning to tell him the truth. How? Each of them had also received a letter. In his letter, Bruce explained his exchange with Sabine's mother, as well as some detailed research he had done on the origin of the Cheng Family. Jason sighed after reading the letter. He had opposite feelings. He was relieved to know that Bruce had never intended to hide this truth from him. Angry that he hadn't done it sooner... Lost too... What to do now?

He finally sighed.

Jason needed to be honest with himself. While everyone went to the cave, Jason took Dick aside and whispered a few words in his ear.

"I want to... try to get to know her a little... Give me a week to get to know her, I'll make my decision then."

"Are you sure, Jay?"

"I don't know. We'll see."

That was how Jason forced himself to stay at the Manor.

He'd started by trying to talk to her a little bit, though he wasn't the best at building a relationship with people, especially not with a child. And even less with the child who didn't know they were related. It was afternoon and Alfred had prepared a snack.

Damian was busy practicing in the Cave with Cass.

Dick was present and eating an apple.

Marinette was eating a bowl of fruit. There was orange, kiwi, pieces of banana, apple and other fruits...

"Hmm... So, Marinette, what do you want to be later?"

She looked up from her bowl at him. She smiled at him.

"I'm going to be the Knitting Fairy."

He blinked several times.

"The Knitting…… Fairy...?"

"Yes. That way I can create lots of clothes with my superpower."

" .............................."

"And I could work with the Tooth Fairy! And Santa Claus!"

" .... I see..."

He had not expected this answer and had no idea how to react. He glanced at Dick. He motioned him to NOT disagree with her. He glanced to the side where Alfred was squeezing an orange to make juice. Their eyes met. Jason swallowed and then remained silent.

He discovered that day that she was still an innocent little girl...

And that wasn't the only thing he was wrong about.

Marinette was in reality a little angel.

The girl was very respectful. Jason realized that she regularly helped Alfred and had a talent for baking. She was very quiet and actually spent a lot of time in her room playing with her legos, doing puzzles or drawing... She also liked to read a lot, so she spent some time at the library. Alfred told her that she had recently started taking sewing classes because she wanted to make her own clothes... (to become the knitting fairy... Because "fairy" was a profession in Marinette's head...).

He eventually confronted Dick.

Jason felt like he had been openly mocked.

"Dick, what is this sh*t? Why is everyone spouting crap about the kid?! She thinks fairy is a job. She's so quiet I sometimes forget she's there. I've never seen her get into trouble with anyone, I can't say the same about Damian. Explain yourself!!!"

"I... I was surprised too Jay... I don't come to the Manor that often, you know it. The thing is, every time I came, Bruce had done something new and crazy... I assumed it was her asking but Alfred told me that Bruce actually tended to exaggerate things when it came to Marinette."

" ... "

After his conversation with Dick, Jason was left alone in his room.

Jason was sitting alone on his bed. He held his head in his hands.

He seriously felt like shooting himself somewhere.

Why had he believed those fools when they told him that Marinette was a spoiled brat?

The end of the week had arrived.

Jason had made the decision to take Marinette with him. Dick was already too busy with Damian and his role as Batman. It wasn't really the kid's fault, the league of assassins had destroyed him completely. Damian needed time and exclusive attention to be reintegrated into society. Tim had taken the CEO position temporarily, but Dick still had to help him. In other words, Dick didn't have time to take care of Marinette. And to be honest, that wasn't his role, since the child's biological father was alive and well.

Marinette was also small and needed attention. And Jason had time to take care of her.

Dick offered to come with him, not to talk, but to provide moral support. The three of them sat down together around the kitchen counter.

Jason then took his courage in both hands to announce the news to Marinette.

"Marinette, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Okay."

"Here goes... Bruce is... Bruce isn't your biological father. It's a bit of a long and complicated story but, to sum it up I... I am your father."

Marinette blinked several times. Then she looked at him strangely, as if he were a complete idiot.

"Yes, I know."

Jason blinked repeatedly.

"You... already knew?"

"Yes?"

Jason stood there, completely frozen. Dick's mouth was open like a fish. He wouldn't be of any help.

" Papa told me about it a long time ago... Why?"

Jason still didn't know what to say, his brain working at full speed. Bruce had told Marinette the truth, but hadn't seen fit to tell him? The prime subject in this story?

"...You didn't know?..."

" ........... "

"Jason...I send you a Father's Day message every year...well especially the last three years."

" ....Wait a minute. That's why you're sending me "happy day" in June?! I thought you had the wrong date!!"

Marinette looked at him this time with a clear poker face. She then turned to Dick who had remained silent during the exchange. He too seemed to be just as shocked as Jason.

"Is stupidity transmissible by DNA? I'm starting to fear for my future..."

Jason was starting to feel the urge to cry.

Dick burst out laughing.

Marinette moved in with Jason that same week.

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

Thanks to everyone who followed this little story! Without the support, I probably wouldn't have continued. Thanks again♥

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

Tag list : @ prettylittlebutterflie,@ mic-is-dead , @ ouch-whytho , @ yurijay , @ unoriginalmess , @ vroomtaka , @ khneltea , @ starling218 , @ throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen , @ lunabey2sky, @ kking13 , @ literaryhiraeth , @ frieddonutsweets , @ depressed-bitchy-demon , @ yasmin-rdz , @ laurcad123 , @ toodaloo-kangaroo , @babylovebug18

#maribat fic #dc x miraculous #miraculous x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #maribat bio dad jason

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you-have-been-frizzled · 1 year

Note

I share your hate of Forkle, but was wondering your specific reasons or an analysiss?

What ending do you think Shannon will do for him??

Sorry this is very Forkle-based...

*bops you with wrapping paper tube* no apologizing! especially if it gives me a chance to rant about fork man

i have a few lists that i will compile here, i also think that in a darker version of kotlc he could easily have been a grommer that i go into more detail here

he broke into her room while she was sleeping who knows how many times when she was a little girl

he asked Sophie to meet him (a grown man) on a island alone and when she took Keefe with her he told her she had to come in the cave with him alone

he just about left Dex for dead in the Neverseen hideout and only brought him because Sophie refused to go without him. Dex was a innocent child and wasn’t just anyones child he was a member of the collective’s child, someone who he worked with side by side for years, and he was still willing to leave him behind

Dex ended up with scars because he didn’t bring enough elixirs for him.

he thinks of Sophie as an accomplishment and doesn’t expect her to want him to think of her as anything more (Everblaze, Page 447.)

he will act very cryptic and only give out bits of information, just enough that she will look into what he was talking about then act proud and flatter her, saying things like “i underestimated you kids”when she and her friends figure out the thing he wanted her to know.

he will tell her about problems in the world making it sound horrible and hopeless, then saying this is the thing we made you to fix, but that’s your choice

he’s constantly dehumanizing her because she is the Moonlark and it’s her job to change things and this is what she was created for. going from treater like his child to a weapon at the drop of a hat

he doesn’t see her as a person he sees her as the moonlark his creation. he doesn’t see her as a child he sees her as his tool and he does care about her but in the wrong way

excludes her parents from the conversations and tells her she has control over her life, not them, like she isn’t a young teen

he told a fourteen year old that if he and the rest of collective died Sophie and her friends would take their place, not caring about what kind of pressure that would put on her. then admits to grooming Sophie and her friends to lead the Black Swan one day

he is constantly reading her mind and never lets her have her thoughts to herself, giving her no sense of privacy to the point that’s she’s close to desensitized to it at this point.but he expects her to not read other peoples minds

he put all this importance on Prentice and told a child that they where going to use her to brake into prison and almost got a child killed (they could have done that without her they have dwarves)

finds it funny to exclude Sandor from conversations that could potentially put her in danger

he calls her his moonlark. which sounds sweet until you realize that’s her project code name he’s literally calling her “my creation” aka “my weapon”

now that that’s over with on to what i think Shannon will do with him.

his brothers wanderling was mentioned to be bending over as if it was waiting for someone, i do think he’s going to get killed off.

probably in the final battle Sophie hopefully doesn’t trust him as much by then (but that’s a bit unlikely) and he sacrifices himself for her. as he’s dying he makes her promise to not let her mind break and to keep being his moonlark. her anger at his death makes her win the battle then she breaks down. his plating would probably a line something like “and he where finally where he belonged, where he wanted to be, back together with his brother” (it had be better than that im writing this at one am)

what I want to happen is

for him to slowly lose his mind over his brothers death. now he’s depressed, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense. frokle and his brother where close as any two people could possibly be without being in the same body. it make’s very little sense for him to be as sane as he is when he literally lost a part of him.

i want him to make little commets here and there that make you go “uhh that didn’t sound like a sane person” but then brush it off. as time goes on his behavior becomes erratic and unpredictable and even Sophie starts to feel uncomfortable around him at times, but she brushes it off because he just misses his brother. then i want him to have a mental breakdown in front of Oralie Sophie and Keefe. where he reveals that Oralie is her bio mom, and ends up hurting Sophie by grabbing her. when they get out of the situation Sophie is shaken and when they go back to look for him he’s gone.

#sophie foster #kotlc #kotlc forkle #mr forkle #project moonlark #thanks for the ask!#forkle hate o’clock #masked messengers #keepblr #the keeper of the lost cities #keeper of the lost cities #forkle neg

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nobody7102 · 1 year

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Sometimes I just wanna bitch about a movie in peace

A rant

I have a distain and dislike for the movie “Blonde” I’ve made no secret about that.

And while reviewing the Oscars I was happy that Blonde didn’t win any awards and my sister got all “preachy” about how “you don’t need to hate on it so much”

Her words verbatim were:

“Blonde, Tar, Elvis, Babylon, The Fableman’s, and the banshee if Inisherin all didn’t win any awards, none and TopGun Maverick would have been in the same boat is not for the one award. Not just blonde, wins could have been spread out amongst the other movie aside from blonde but none of them won”

and when I said “yeah there where definitely a lot of snubs” she said:

“I’m just saying you don’t have to hate on blonde that much. Even if it is bad because it took a Lot of work for everyone off screen. Not just how Ana was treating people about it”

I’m just gonna say this then I’ll be done talking about it:

This is not just “not liking how Ana handled fans” which regardless, she disregarded fans and historians who were trying to say “hey this isn’t a biopic it’s not really how her life played out” I love Ana as an actress but if you can’t at least say “I see and understand what you’re saying” when receiving feedback about ANOTHER PERSONS LIFE then at least show a little more respect instead of just saying “it’s the fans fault for not understanding it”

I have my other reasons for not liking it. I know a lot of work in a lot of effort went into it.

And those people do probably most definitely deserve to be rewarded for putting in such a good effort, but if it gets awards, then it’s helping to push out a false narrative of a woman who never really got a say if she wanted her life story to be told or not.

Not to mention the false narrative of her relationships, her health, and her upbringing and experience.

The Director and the writer of the book it was based off of didn’t see any problem with over sexualizing Marilyn or excluding the fact that she loved to educate herself on her films and how the film industry worked, she had her own production company, or that she was very religious.

It’s a false narrative and if it’s pushed out to the world then they see Marilyn as something she wasn’t even more than the world already does.

And we aren’t even going to mentions how disrespectful “Zombie Marilyn” is because that’s a whole other level.

It’s presented as a “biopic” when it’s a “historical fiction” it mocks the trauma she went through and excludes important details and information about her life.

She never hated “Marilyn” as the movie shows, we(the public) never really new about half of the situation the movie depicted and we never will: the writer and director just came to their own conclusions.

Like… can she just let me bitch in peace? I know I’m hard on it but that’s because I have more information about Marilyn’s life then the general public does.

I have a right to not like the movie and no shade to the crew/production I’m sure they did a phenomenal job and I do still love Ana as an actress but I just love her a little less.

You do not play god with a persons life, that includes when writing/directing a “biopic”

#rant #nobody shouts #blonde #blonde netflix #blonde 2022 #marilyn monroe #norma jean baker #norma jeane mortenson

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ysapawithfeelings · 2 years

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From Basher to Believer

I’d always been on the slender side from when I was a kid until I graduated from college. When I started working and adult life happened, my metabolism started to slow down. I had minimal movement and maximum exposure to all the food I could ever want in the world. When I turned 25, that was when gaining weight happened regularly for me, and family and friends began to notice. In hindsight, I wish I did something about it the first time it was called out, but of course, I dismissed the ‘harsh’ observations at the time, and I was probably in denial too.

By 28, I was officially overweight. This did not come as a surprise. However, I was also diagnosed with polycystic ovaries (PCOS), a hormonal disorder common among women of reproductive age. This condition was also a contributing factor to my rapid weight gain. My sugar was at a pre-diabetic level, and my cholesterol was sky-high. I started taking maintenance medicines for these – Metformin, Atorvastatin, and contraceptive pills. My OB kept saying these weren’t enough. I needed to exercise and stick to a healthy diet. I did not budge. Maybe it was a combination of stress at work, lack of time, and yes, laziness. I would rather sleep or hang out with friends than strain a muscle on my free time (which was not exactly abundant)—if you get my drift.

By 30, I was at 185 pounds and was diagnosed with obesity. In fact, dark spots suddenly appeared on my feet, as a result of “popped veins” because my feet could barely carry my weight. I would crash diet for several days and then resume eating unhealthily. I would also get nauseous from time to time because I also had anemia. The weakness and fatigue were palpable. People around me expressed concern more and more often. Some suggested that I go to the gym, but I silently sneered at the thought of ever going there. Because I didn’t know better then, I silently mocked those who would post workout photos, when in truth, they were worth emulating. They took care of themselves the best way they can, and not everyone had the will power to do so.

When I turned 33 and I got retrenched from my previous job at the height of the pandemic along with thousand others, I suddenly had too much time on my hands. All the books were read; all the errands were accomplished; all the chores were done. I guess I felt so sad and empty that buying a stationary bike online seemed like a good idea. That was the first thing I purchased from my separation pay. Side trivia: I never learned to ride a bike without the training wheels because my parents were overprotective when I was a child. At least now I could ride a bike without falling flat on my face. 😊

It was probably around July 2020 when I started doing indoor cycling for about 20-30 minutes a day. On days that were extra dull and lonesome, I would pedal for an hour until I couldn’t feel my legs. That got me exhausted enough to sleep earlier at night. That was also the beginning of things changing for the better. I also decided to be more carefully aware on the kind of food I ate, but I never really excluded carbs and desserts. I still drink milktea as much as I’d like—but with lower sugar level.

By the end of 2020, I was able to lose 28 pounds, then 35, then 45 in the ensuing year. Whenever I’d get bored with cycling, I would search for easy home exercises on Youtube. I bought an exercise mat (which is quite tattered now), and I also did Zumba. I highly recommend MadFit! I didn’t do crazy-hard exercise routines that I knew I wouldn’t enjoy. I wanted to move, but I also wanted to keep it fun. I also chose the music that best resonated with my soul while exercising. The amazing thing was, I just didn’t feel lighter on the outside—I also felt lighter inside.

Several months after I got hired by Accenture, I decided to enroll at Anytime Fitness, so I could still exercise on some nights after work. I’ve never been happier to realize just how wrong and ignorant I was back then about people who went to the gym. It was a slap on the face for the judgmental person I used to be. Devoting time at the gym was not easy at all. I’d get lazy every now and then, and I'd bail, but whenever I did go, I felt physically (and even emotionally) better.

These days, my weight has gone on plateau, but the important thing is to keep moving—no matter how minimal. I have to admit, there are days I feel sheer frustration when I see that I’m gaining some pounds again, but I proactively remind myself that I’ve come a long way, and that’s enough. I’m still a work-in-progress, and I just want to embrace this journey, wherever it may lead me. It also makes me happy being able to fit in my old clothes again. A small win is still a win, and slow progress is still progress.

So to conclude this rather long story, and if you’re still reading at this point (thank you), I guess here are the “best learnings” I can share:

Something always seems impossible, until it isn’t. It’s hard to start, but all worthwhile things have to start somewhere.

Go at your own pace. Rushing to meet your goal will only birth frustration.

Don’t keep checking the weighing scale. The more important thing to check is how your body feels. The body never lies.

In losing weight, you also begin to realize you’re losing the weight of other people’s opinions that never really mattered. You do you.

It’s not always a bad thing to remember the past. Looking back reminds you of how far you’ve come. The first person who should be proud of yourself is you!

“And I said to my body, softly, ‘I want to be your friend.’ It took a long breath, and replied, ‘I have been waiting my whole life for this.’” ~ Nayyirah Waheed

#fitness #exercise #workout #health #health and wellness #transformation #mantra #progress #healthy lifestyle #wellness

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stellar-waves · 6 months

Text

staring down the sun [10] *

⏯ chapter index

⚠ warnings: canon-typical violence

. . .

the saints are coming

. . .

Connor had always approached things as if he was an artist. Or at least he tried. Even when they were kids, Murphy would dive right in to do something, while Connor wanted to take a step back and think first. Every hair-brained scheme they’d ever done was a work of art to him. Sure, some were executed better than others, but that meant he could learn from the mistakes. And Lord knows Connor has made plenty of mistakes in his life.

He can’t help envisioning a flawless, movie-like assassination. He paints a picture of himself and Murphy hailing as heroes, á la Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, with Elena gushing over them and approving of their job well done. Connor smiles as he finishes explaining his idea, but the smile fades as he sees Murphy shaking his head with a smirk that reads more like idiot instead of genius. Connor expects that from his brother, though.

Looking at Elena, her face reads differently, her eyebrows pressed together, and her nose wrinkled in pure disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m the lovestruck damsel in your little fantasy?”

A huge lump forms in Connor’s throat, and his cheeks grow hot as Murphy laughs his ass off. He must have explained it wrong or something because that’s not what he meant. “That’s not what I meant…”

Murphy’s laughter grows, and Elena doesn’t budge from her icy stare in Connor’s direction. He feels the sweat beading up along his forehead, and his heart beats faster.

But Elena lets out an exasperated sigh. “Forget it,” she assures, yet she’s still pissed.

Connor stumbles on his words as Murphy’s giggles fill the awkward silence. “It’s just…I didn’t think ye would want to be part of the action…not that ye can’t…I mean…I figured ye would…”

Murphy finally calms down, wiping tears from laughing so much. “Oh my dear brother, ye really fucked that up.”

Elena shifts her glare to the darker-haired MacManus, shaking her head. “It’s fine,” she says, still clearly irritated. “But you might as well use me for something.”

“She’s got a point, Conn. She did kill those two motherfuckers before we could even get in the door.”

Connor chews on his lip, mulling over the idea of Elena having a more…active role. Maybe he’s avoiding that consideration because he wants to protect her. Perhaps he doesn’t trust her completely. It was different including Rocco and Romeo in their endeavor. They wanted to be there. Elena does not. She made that clear back at the church.

She had kicked Connor and Murphy out of Smecker’s office with a pack of cigarettes like some sad consolation prize for excluding them from the conversation. And although he tried to mentally pull her thoughts right out of her head so he could make sense of everything, he caved and followed his brother outside. Once they were on the church’s steps, Connor took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly like he was expelling all of the tension. He looked over to Murphy, who was blowing smoke rings into the air as they stood in the moonlight. The glow of the church created a soft golden haze behind them, contrasting the cool blue hue of night in front of them.

“Babysitter, huh?” Murphy broke the silence.

Connor took another drag, inhaled through his teeth, and exhaled through his nose. “That’s not what she meant,” he assured, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

Smecker came out as they stamped out their cigs, and Murphy handed the pack back to him. His smile was both triumphant and mysterious as he offered the brothers a second smoke each, to which they obliged. He walked down the steps and stared up at the night sky, placing his weight and his hand on his left hip. The boys looked at his back as he smoked, wondering what the clever detective was concocting in his brain.

“Boys,” he called out without turning around, his face still pointed toward the stars. “A little bird tells me it’s raining in New York.” Connor felt Murphy’s confused face turn toward him, but Connor kept staring at Smecker. A little bird. The panic of uncertainty crept back into his lungs, proving more harmful than the tobacco. Smecker turned around, and his eyes glistened from both the church lights and his deep regard for the MacManus brothers. “And remember…be careful.”

“Well?” Murphy’s voice interrupts Connor’s thoughts, forcing him to blink everything back into focus. His brother’s eyebrows are raised, waiting for the answer that Connor’s still unsure of. But patience was never his brother’s strong suit, and Murphy shakes his head while turning his attention to Elena. “Fuck it. Here’s what yer going to do, lass…”

Connor’s instinct is to protest his brother, but he listens to Murphy explain how Elena will take out the guards so they can slip into the building undetected. Then he continues with Connor’s plan, this time with the addition of Elena as their backup, covering any blind spots as they assassinate the entire drug ring. A wave falls over him, something that strangely feels like…relief.

“Then we head back to the motel and throw back some Irish to celebrate.” Murphy swipes his palms together, smiling. “Right, Connor?”

Yeah, relief. His lips curl up one side of his face as he confirms. “That’s the plan.”

The boys do another check of their guns, pulling the slides back on each one to make sure they’re loaded and ready. Elena does the same with her Glock. “Ready?” she asks.

“Aye,” Murphy quietly answers, then they both turn their eyes to Connor.

Honestly, his confidence is strained, coming in waves over the past several months. Like a true struggling artist.

He blinks away the doubt and nods, and the three of them separate into two and one as they take their positions.

Two suppressed gunshots pop in the air, and the two dark-dressed men by the door fall dead. Murphy raises his eyebrows at Connor, silently boasting that he was right about Elena. But Connor remains cautious, not ready to celebrate just yet. He motions with two fingers for them to go, and they slowly walk into the building.

Usually, something would go wrong by now and throw the plan off track. But the brothers quickly kill every man inside, their two-handed aim still marked with incredible precision. No bullet is wasted, piercing each criminal and spraying their blood into the air.

The boss attempts his escape as his cronies fall around him, running away like the coward he truly is until Connor grabs him by the back of his neck. He drags the man back into the middle of the room, placing him on his knees as the brothers pull their rosaries from under their shirts. They move in sync as they point their guns at the back of the guy’s head, reciting their family prayer together.

And shepherds we shall be. For Thee, my Lord, for Thee.

Power hath descended forth from Thy hand.

That our feet may swiftly carry out Thy command.

So we shall flow a river forth to Thee.

And Teeming with souls shall it ever be.

In Nomine Patris, et Fili, Spiritus Sancti.

Two more suppressed gunshots ring in the air as Connor and Murphy each fire their Berettas. Then everything is quiet. Connor and Murphy stare at the dead man on the floor, blood pooling under his head, or what’s left. Once upon a time, they would smile in triumph, feeling quite arrogant in their natural talent for killing. They were younger, naive, invincible. Now, after all they have lost, but in all they still have left, the MacManus brothers look at their success with humbled eyes.

They hear breathing still laced with adrenaline behind them, and Connor and Murphy turn around, knowing they will see Elena. She almost seems frozen, her body half in the doorway, peering around the corner at them. Her hands grip her Glock, lowered cautiously but still ready to fire. Her breathing steadies as she stares back at the boys, her eyes briefly drifting down toward the body at their feet. She looks back at them, her eyes locking with Connor specifically, and she relaxes her arms, still holding her gun in her right hand as she approaches them.

Murphy bends down to roll the boss onto his back while Connor can’t tear his eyes away from Elena. She doesn’t say a word, she simply moves closer. Connor looks down, and his heart swells at the sight of her left hand offering two clean copper pennies.

. . .

⏮ [9]

[11] ⏭

#boondock saints fanfic #connor macmanus x oc #the boondock saints #boondock saints #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #fanfic #fanart #illustrated moments #staring down the sun

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hopper-miller-lvl5 · 1 year

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Orbit Reflection

CVL has been an experience for me, this is the first time a project hasn't gone according to plan and there's been a lot to learn from that.

Beginning with LO1 the goal was to demonstrate my understanding of relevant theoretical / conceptual frameworks through independent led research and critical reflection. There was a lot of research and reflection done in this project, I dug into a lot of topics all to do with motivation, organization and productivity. I read into the psychology of planning and why its so helpful. I continued by gaining a scientific understanding of how best to approach the planning process. I also dove into human motivation, and how to leverage that motivation by taking notes from things like video games. In terms of reflection there were many instances I had to take a look at my project and understand I was steering it in the wrong direction. The biggest of these reflections was when I realized I was designing a system I personally wanted, not a system which fit my own brief and user persona. Through it all I've begun to understand how necessary it is to take meaningful looks into where my project is heading and if that aligns with my goals.

Moving on to LO2 the goal was to demonstrate my ability to problem solve using different approaches and defining your ideas in relation to audience / user / viewer. This went hand in hand with my reflections, It took me multiple attempts to get things right, some really setting back my progress, but ultimately resulting in a much more considered and purposeful design. I did a lot of experiments that are nowhere to be seen in my final product, from glassmorhpsim to gradients. I tried to make things work but ultimately I chose to exclude those ideas in the name of accessibility. I really had to consider my user first and their relation to the practicality and nuance of designing a tool, not an art piece. While I did create a lot of things that didn’t make the final cut, I think large amounts of experimentation lead to a better end result.

Finally LO3, the goal was to generate effective communication that demonstrates: solutions that show an awareness of contemporary practice within professional contexts, and work that shows a high degree of creativity and aesthetic judgment. I really think I nailed it here, this time around I paid a lot more attention to the minute detail and best practices in industry. All the spacings are a multiple of 8 that goes for the text as well, I did this because I know it has some implications when a website goes to be coded. I also picked up the habit of auto layouts which really helped me change things up quickly and is getting me more industry ready. I also gave some big attention to accessibility. It's something I can't ignore in industry so it's another skill I need to continue to implement into my process. Outside of this my solution really takes my theory and runs with it. For motivation I really took inspiration from video games who've already put in the work to create motivating skill tree systems, there was no need to reinvent the wheel I just applied the idea to a new context. For planning, we all know it's important, but I wanted to make it as easy and painless as possible. I apply conversational AI to a new context, planning. By doing so I applied something that already works to solve a problem that needs a solution. Overall I think my solution feels modern, considered, and brings justice to a conceptual good idea.

Overall theres been a lot of trial and error through this brief, this isn't where I thought I would end up, but I'm happy it is. However the big takeaway from this whole process is with projects this long there is a constant need to re-examine your idea regularly. I got so caught up in creating for myself, instead of my user person, it lead to having a lost of time lost and work to catch up on.

#t3 #cvl brief

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appalachiangrowlergravel · 1 year

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Day 1

We were all up before 6:30am with a 9:00am target departure time. Showers, hotel breakfast, final gear checks and we were ready to go. Our first stop was Fonta Flora brewery for pictures then we were off.

Official starting point. Fonta Flora Brewery.

We cut through a few neighborhoods and parking lots to find a bike path that paralleled the Catawba River. When the path came to an end we got on a two lane road that ultimately led us out of town. In a blink we completed our first hour and our first 10 miles.

Somewhere during our second 10 miles we got our first taste of gravel. We had a little uphill and downhill so we got to get a feel for our bikes in a relatively comfortable environment. Good thing because the rest of the day would test our strength and skill. Mile 11-25 took almost 2 hours. The first 25 miles of our 50 mile day didn’t cover 1/3 of our elevation gain.

First gravel road.

After mile 25, the roads were pretty much all gravel. Miles 25-36 were all uphill. The goal that we kept in our heads was the descent at mile 36 which would bring us to Betsey’s Ole Country Store.

A view along the way.

About mile 39, I was chased by two dogs as I came near the end of Maple Sally Road. I must have exhausted them because they didn’t chase Paul or Philip. They were just having fun with me, I guess.

We all pulled into Betsey’s around 4pm. We hydrated on Gatorade and got our salt and sugar fixes with peanuts and M&Ms. Both FedEx and UPS made deliveries while we were there. Neither driver was willing to haul us up the last stretch of road.

Forgot to take a picture we were so exhausted.

While there, we also met a gent who was doing some inspection work for insurance companies. He and his wife travel to rural spots throughout NC for their employer. Somehow we got on the subject of his service in the army in Viet Nam. He saw similarities in the lushness of our forests and Viet Nam jungles. For the most part, all we saw all day was Forest with shafts of sunlight and the occasional mountain vista.

Excluding a 12:30 lunch stop, miles 25-41 took us over 3 hours and we climbed approximately 2000 feet. Two thirds of our climbing were done with 9 miles left to go.

The run up to the start of our final climb paralleled Wilson Creek, a scenic a wild river. If we had time, I’m sure the fishing would have been good.

Wilson Creek.

Our final 6.5 miles of the day were all uphill. We needed to ascend 1900 feet before we reached our camp for the night. The climb came in three stages. The first was steep. The second was steeper at nearly 15% grade for 3/4 of a mile (FYI, typical rails-to-trails are 3% max). And the third was so gradual it felt like going downhill. The last 9 miles took 2.5 hours.

Last pedal strokes of the day.

Finally in camp by 7:30pm, we set up our tents, hung our bear bag line, and ate dinner. Early to bed. No bourbon tonight.

Directions to camp for the last rider in.

Home for the night.

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le-trash-prince · 1 year

Text

One of the coworkers I’m closest with is very autistic leaning and we relate a lot to each other despite a 10 yr age difference. Like he tells me that he greatly appreciates that when I’m done with our conversation I just straight up walk away without following the social norms of ending a conversation. He has sound sensitivities too and gets really stressed out when his schedule is thrown off.

It also feels very validating that he also prefers being back at the office as opposed to when we were WFH. A lot of times it feels like as introverts that we’re supposed to prefer working from home or being hybrid. He’s a POC too, which also makes me feel better because there’s this narrative that as POC we’re better off working from home. And I’ll be honest, seeing business media outlets talk about how minorities should all be working from home for their own benefit feels like a trap. It feels like we would all just be pushed out of sight. Given the statistics that WFH workers work longer hours while receiving fewer raises and promotions, I am very suspicious of any business media outlet that says minorities should push for their right to WFH.

Like yes, there are a lot of challenges I face at the office, there’s micro aggressions, there’s sensory challenges, there’s a commute, but it’s still miles better than WFH. And now that I’m back in the office, I love my home more than I did when it was the location of all my stress.

I have struggles with interpreting tone and facial expressions when I’m speaking, but when I’m listening to someone else speak, I rely heavily on visual input to understand how they feel.

So I spent an entire year having no idea how any of my coworkers felt about me because they were (understandably) not comfortable with being on the camera all the time, and I didn’t have the ability to ask them to turn their camera on or their filter off.

It’s really difficult to work as a team member with someone when you don’t know if you’ve said something that either they didn’t understand, or it came across as rude. And without that information, there’s no way for me to know when I need to apologize for something or clear up a misunderstanding. When we came back to the office, there were people who I’d either been close with or at least gotten along with, who now were extremely cold and short with me and went out of their way to exclude me from things, and I still don’t understand why.

Being on the webcam was also really difficult because I felt like I was always being looked at, and therefore my expression had to constantly be “on,” which is not natural for me. It’s also hard for me to gauge when it’s appropriate to speak in a group setting, and working with internet lag makes it even more difficult. Being spoken over or speaking over someone else causes me a lot of stress.

The lack of structure was also really difficult for me, and the brief period that our company tried hybrid work was even worse. Shifting locations throughout the week and seeing a different group of people every day, depending on who was in the office, was completely mentally exhausting. I could not get my brain to a functioning level. It took six months of us being in the office full time for me to recover from the burnout of being unmoored from the routine and stability that I need.

Anyways, it’s just nice to know that I’m not the only one who feels like I’m both happier and more productive at the office despite being part of multiple demographics that say I should feel otherwise. I think it is a subjective situation and I get really frustrated at the sentiment that anyone who wants an in-person office environment is siding with greedy corporate overlords who just want to keep an eye on people, which is what I have been told to my face on multiple occasions.

#rant

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tangiblejournal56 · 1 year

Text

12/28/11

These past couple of weeks, a whirlwind of activity & emotion, some good, a lot rotten to the fucking core. I sit & try to eke out what exactly I’ve been through & the weight of it all feels crushing, as though I couldn’t find the start of pulling myself out of it all long enough to compartmentalize it & store it away. My usual process of dealing with it all. Perhaps the link to why my temper has been shorter, my energy running low. I type this out now because the thought of writing it down yet still seems like a feat, I am as yet incapable of executing. I will start off slow, no order of importance as you will soon see. More of an order of what I am able to deal with in this moment, an attempt to build myself up toward spewing out the rest of it. Among all of this procrastination masquerading as prologue, I will begin.

Max. The past few weeks (excluding my first couple of nights with him upon returning) we have not slept together. Slept next to each other, yes, but without engaging in sexual congress. Neither one of us has made any moves toward each other, & it just never happened. I told myself I wouldn’t try for anything, as it was clear that we were only ever going to be friends, something I pathetically need to remind myself of, as my longing gets in the way of reality more often than than I’d like to admit. So the curse of abstinence was keeping me company. While dealing with the fact of my grandmother’s impending death, I had a bit of a breakdown. Max saw it coming, picked me up & took me to get a bottle of gin & ingredients to make his meatloaf, even purchasing me a pack of cigarettes. We went to his house where I got wrecked on a lot of G&Ts, & we watched cartoons & movies. Eventually I couldn’t stay up any longer in my drunken state, & lay down in his bed, crying heavily. He came & held me, keeping his arms around me & letting me bawl into his shirt. I didn’t see him again for a few days. When we next met up something seemed a bit off, like he was annoyed with me, his patience & entertainment for my silliness seemed needled down to nothing, & I wondered what I’d done to bother him so much. I wondered if perhaps I’d come back & wasn’t the girl he had thought me, or if he was no longer the boy who had liked that about me. As if one or the both of us had simply & quietly outgrown each other. He certainly acted accordingly.

Then Josh came home for xmas, & Max came over after work to see him & my family. He & the boys went out to the bars while I stayed in, making my grandmother’s xmas present. They returned with my brothers drunk & Max well on his way, with more beers in hand. I stayed up with them a bit, through some of the absurd “Hobo With A Shotgun,” but eventually went off to bed. I awoke later to Max taking his clothes off & joining me, crawling beneath the thick comforter & clinging to my body for warmth. I don’t recall whether it was he or me who initiated the sex, but it occurred, in grand fashion. Passionate & trying to stay quiet, lest my parents in the next room overhear, even leaving a hickey on my neck, a first since we were sixteen, which I spent most of the holiday trying to mask & failing. He left the next day & I busied myself with my family & Shawn’s arrival.

Monday night, after our respective family celebrations, he picked me up, excited to show me his gains. He was wearing a plain black teeshirt with his new pair of one-of-a-kind jeans, a prototype too expensive for mass production, a gift from his sister-in-law, the head of this particular brand’s men’s design. He received three other like pairs. We went to his house & set up his new blu-ray player, & put in Woody Allen’s latest, “Midnight In Paris,” which I’d been anxious to see. I began drinking the gin I had left over in Max’s freezer & found myself drunk quickly. Mostly in response to Max’s snapping at me, his impatience at my drunken chatter throughout the film. This came unexpectedly, as he usually has no problem with my chatter, & he himself usually is the source of the chatter during most movies we watch together. I suppose I was probably annoyingly excited at the context of the movie, some of my favorite writers/surrealists being portrayed in such interesting worlds, but I still did not expect his actually telling me to shut up at one point. My feelings smarted from the comment so I tried to burn them back with more alcohol, & texted Shawn & Thom. I told them my night was miserable & they told me the same. Shawn offered to come pick me up but I demurred. Thom ended up calling me to relay a full account of his evening with Shawn & Josh, fistfights & drunken revelry. His story got my head spinning & I stumbled to the bathroom & informed Thom I needed to get off the phone & puke. It was a small amount, & Max slipped in with a glass of water, & back out again. This was a first, he’s never seen me drunk enough to throw up. I’m sure it came as somewhat of a surprise. Eventually I rejoined him, freshened. He was watching a bad television show & we chatted for a bit. He made a pizza & forced me to eat a slice so that I had something in my stomach. I couldn’t hold my head up for long, so I went off to his bed & passed out.

I woke up to his arms tight around me, we’d slept through the whole night like that, which is not a regular occurrence. Seeing him there, his pale strong arms in stark contrast with the black of his teeshirt, his face, half-buried by blanket in the morning light, it had a warming effect on me, like lying in the sun in the dead of summer. I ran my hand up & down his thigh, & he looked at me through slitted eyelids, helped me unbuckle his pants. “Well, someone woke up in a good mood,” he remarked, smiling. I grinned, buried my face between his arm & chest, “You just looked so good in that shirt,” I mumbled, bashful suddenly. The sex was silly & laughing & playing around, the mood light & affectionate. I sat atop him & told him we needed a diner breakfast, to have a badventure day. He laughed, I climbed off of him, we got dressed & departed. The first stop was Denny’s, “We gotta carb up!” he insisted, in anticipation for the heavy purchasing he was about to embark upon. The second stop was Best Buy, where he deliberated & pretended to consider my opinion upon new televisions I don’t know anything about, but bulshitted an answer because he wanted my preference. That same old fun game we play where we pretend my opinions mean anything. I say this good-naturedly, as I really don’t care a bit for technology. Racha was there working, she helped us load the final choice into his car. This was a necessary purchase, he couldn’t have a blu-ray player without getting a hi-def television, that would be absurd. Along with a new set up of course is required new blu-ray movies to watch on it, which is how he ended up with “The Tree of Life,” “The Dark Knight,” & the complete “Rocky” collection. Throw in an HDMI cable, frozen pizza & whiskey, he was set. All in all I watched him drop over a grand in two hours. It served only to enhance his good mood that began with such a lovely wake-up. Watching him put together his new television & setting everything up was so damn attractive, it really intrigued me. Made me quite impatient to watch him put together everything in our future apartment.

To sum this whole entry up, he acts cold & hot towards me, & I don’t know to what end, or just how to interpret it all. In short, everything is pretty standard to how it always is with him. I guess I can’t really ask for more than that, right? It’s at least a still point in my hectically turning world. That’s all I have the energy to contemplate right now. Next entry I’ll catch up on the rest. Maybe.

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