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write-orflight · 3 years

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Watch Over Me: Chapter One

**Gif Not Mine**

Prev - Next

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: M

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: none for this chapter: innuendo, language

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

Summary: Steve Rogers learns about the future from a woman stuck in the past.

A.N This is my jazz club reader fic I’ve been talking about writing. This fic isn’t gonna be long but I like it so I hope yall do too. I’m not using my perm taglist because it’s different than my normal content. reply, message, or inbox to be tagged. Devil Has Lilith will be updated Saturday.

Slang used in this chapter:

Dish: An attractive Woman

Butter and egg man: The money man, the man who comes to town to blow a big wad in nightclubs.

Dip the bill: Have a drink.

Corn: Bourbon

Cake-eater: A ladies’ man

Jalopy: An old car.

Drop a dime: Make a phone call

Chapter 1: There's a somebody I'm longin' to see

“I can’t watch this anymore!” Tony said storming into the compound’s kitchen one night. Steve looked up from his sketchbook in confusion. “I can’t watch you sit in here another friday night. It’s tragic!”

“Ugh, not this again, Tony.” Steve says, sighing. Nat and Bucky begin snickering next to him, knowing where the conversation was going.

“Yes, this again. Cap, I excused it for the first couple of years because you were adjusting to the times but it’s been years! If you’re not on a mission, you don’t go out! Sometimes, when Pep is having trouble sleeping I describe your social life to her, puts her right slee--”

“Alright, I get it!” Steve cuts him off, slapping Bucky, who was in full hysterics at this point, in the arm. “I know my personal life is--”

“Non-existent?” Nat provides.

“Dead?” Tony adds, laughing.

“But it’s my personal life. I’m over 100 years old. If I looked it, you guys wouldn’t be questioning my staying home.”

“Exactly, if you looked it, I wouldn’t. But you are not that old yet.” Tony says. “Come on, let’s just all go out once. If you don’t like it, I’ll never make you go out again. I’ll even get you a coloring book or a model ship, or whatever old people do.”

“Fine.” Steve sighed, as the man next to him cheered. “But nothing like those places you typically go to. They’re too noisy and sweaty and--”

“Yea I got it, old-timer. We’re not going anywhere like that.” Tony provides. “My friend recently opened a restaurant where their back room is a speakeasy, very accurately themed, you need a password and everything to get in. You’ll fit right in.”

“Prohibition ended in the 30s.” Bucky says. “Long before Stevie could even drink.”

“Even still, work with me a little here.” Tony says.

“Fine.” Steve sighs.

“Awesome. Now, you’ve got to come in costume to these things so I’ve already taken the liberty of telling my tailor to make you guys something.”

“What if I had said no?” Steve asks.

“Oh, Cap. You should know by now I don’t take no as an answer.”

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Steve shifted uncomfortably in his uniform. It was almost exactly like the one he would wear out during down times in the war though he knew it wasn’t the real one as that one was in the Smithsonian. Still, Tony’s tailor did a good job with seemingly all the costumes. Tony looked almost identical to how Steve remembered Howard back in the day. Bucky was in a uniform that looked similar to his back in the day, Glove covering his metal hand. Natatsha was in a sleek red gown, white gloves and pearls that was more modest than he’d seen her wear but still made her look drop dead gorgeous.

Tony led them down a dark alley to what seemed to be a back door. Steve looked around confused as they entered the smokey hallway. At the end of the hallway there were two large doors and a lady with pinned up hair and a black shimmery dress, smoking with her feet propped up on the desk she was sitting at.

“Evening gentlemen.” She croons in an english accent. “And lady. Are you lost?”

“We have a meeting with Dr. Volstead.” Tony says, confidently.

The woman tilts her head back giving all of you a once over. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it?” She asks.

“Yes, it is. But I prefer the rain.” Tony says.

With that the woman stands and walks over to the large doors and knocks rhythmically 3 times. The doors open to reveal a large dance hall where couples are in full swing, laughing and drinking. A trio of girls crooned a faced paced song as a jazz band was playing behind them. For a moment, Steve did actually forget he was in the 21st century.

“Enjoy Paradise, my friends.” The woman smiles, before shutting the doors to the outside world.

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You were in the kitchen, taking a much needed headache break from the facade you had been putting up for your tables all night long when your Co-worker, Dalia, came up to you.

“Y/N, Y/N! You have to trade tables with me.”

You looked at her with a suspicious look. “Why?”

“Come on, It’s a 4-top anyway. I’ll even trade you the party table for it.” That made you even more suspicious. “50 bucks for it, come on.”

“Don’t trade, Y/N/N!” Your co-worker and friend/roommate, Jade added. “Tony Stark is in your section. I bet she only wants to give you 50 for it because she knows she’ll make 500.”

“Come on, that’s not even why.” Dalia groans. “Black Widow is also at your table and you know she’s on my ‘Celebrities I have to fuck before I die’ list.”

“God, are the rest of the avengers here?” You ask.

“Not all but you know who is here?” Jade asks. “Steve Rogers.” She says, in a mocking singsong tone, jabbing you. Your crush on Captain America wasn’t really a secret anymore after you confessed it drunk one night. “And he looks almost edible.”

You hum, you didn’t really feel like taking another table but this wasn’t a normal table. You doubt you had a chance but you weren’t passing up on serving Steve Rogers.

“I’ll make you a deal. I still want that 50 bucks and we share the table, I’ll consider splitting the tip.” You say, the idea of making your rent in a night did appease you.

“Deal.”

“Now ladies, I have a song to do.” You say, leaving the girls behind in the kitchen.

—————————————-

Steve, for the first time in a while it seemed, was having fun. Tony was right, he did feel like he fit right in here. He clapped with the crowd, as the three girls bowed and left the stage. The piano man stood up and took the microphone Steve could tell was only styled to look old but actually wasn’t that old.

“One more time for the Duclaw sisters folks.” The smooth voiced man said into the microphone, inciting another round of applause from the crowd. “Our next performer is actually the last of the night.” That incited a few ‘awws’ of disappointment. “Don’t cry just yet because Old Gary never disappoints, our next performer is my personal favorite. Sings like a Canary and the Cat who caught it.” That induces a laugh from the crowd and a small chuckle from Steve. “And maybe if you’re good she’ll come on for an encore later. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Sultry Sounds of Y/N L/N.” He says, moving from the mic back to the piano as the crowd cheers. Steve watches the stage as arguably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen seems to glide out from the backstage. She’s wearing a floor length silver gown that seemed to glimmer with every step she took. Her hair came down in long fingerwaves, pinned back so you could see the sculpt of her face. Steve would be lying if he said that wasn’t his favorite part of her facade. She had on simple eyeliner, foundation, and a bold red lip he could probably see from mars. You were beautiful, in a timeless sort of way.

“My, my.” She crooned in an sultry old new york accent that reminded Steve of the women he grew up around. “What would your wife say if she knew I was your favorite, Old Gary?”

“She’d agree!” The man called from the piano, inducing the chuckle from the crowd. And a deep sultry one from you.

“Well as they say, two’s just fine but three’s a party.” She winked at the old man in a way that would make Steve weak if he wasn’t already sitting.

“You ok there, Cap?” Tony said, snapping Steve out of the mystery woman’s trance. “You disappeared for a second.”

“I’m fine.” Steve said, fighting the flush that threatened to spread over his face. He looks out the side of his eye to Bucky, who was smirking at him knowingly. Of course, he knew.

“You know, you saying something about being good got me thinking, Old Gary.” She said, as the man softly played behind her. “A good man is hard to find. Great men are great, bad men are good sometimes too.” She winked to the crowd. “But every girl wants a good man, someone to watch over her.” Old Gary seems to take the cue to start playing her song.

“There's a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we're often told, ‘seek and ye shall find’” She began singing and it made Steve sit up in his seat. She had the kind of voice that was almost beckoning. She was becoming his own personal siren. “So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind”

“She’s a looker, huh?” The server, who introduced herself as Dalia, said as she sat down Bucky’s drink. “Y/N’s the main dish of this place.”

“I think I’m more interested in you, doll.” Bucky flirted, shamelessly.

“And I think I’m more interested in dames, Soldier.” She says, winking to Natasha who smiles coyly at her. Steve hardly pays them any mind as his focus was on you as you finished your song and thanked the crowd and waved while Old Gary helped her off stage.

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

You were changing from your stage outfit into your floor outfit when Dalia burst into the locker room.

“Y/N/N, I actually think I might have a chance with Widow. I mean, she’s kinda been ignoring me the whole night but when I mentioned I was into girls she smiled!” Dalia ranted, excitedly as you nodded. You turned your back to her so she’d get the clue to zip you up which she does. “Also, you should’ve seen the way Steve Rogers was watching you sing. He totally wants to hit that.” That makes you perk up a bit.

“I doubt it. I have it under good authority that he hasn’t hit anything in over 70 years. I doubt I’m what he’s been waiting for.” You laugh. “Still, it’s fun to think about.”

Dalia tugs you out of the locker room. “Come on, let's get back out there.”

You sighed before stepping out of the locker room and seemingly out of this century.

You fake laughed with a guest at the bar as you grabbed your tray of drinks and made your way over to the table that had been making you nervous all night. You placed the four whiskey rocks drinks on the tables.

“Courtesy of Dean.” You say, placing the drinks down. Stopping at Tony Stark. “Don’t know why? You seem to be the butter and egg man out tonight.

“Butter and egg?” He asks, looking to Steve and Bucky.

“Means money man, High roller.” Bucky explains, Steve nods.

“Ah, well I am that.” Tony says, laughing. “I must say Miss, what was it? Y/N?” You nod confirming. “I have to say you are quite the performer.”

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Stark. Go ahead, dip your bill.” You say pointing to the drink, Hoping they’d get the hint. They did of course, after seeing Steve and Bucky take a sip. You watch Steve grimace slightly at the taste of the liquor.

“Everything alright, fella?”

You watch Steve flush at the attention being tossed his way. You can’t help the confident smirk that graced your face knowing it was you that had Steve Rogers flustered. “I’m fine, I just don’t enjoy the taste.”

You hum. “Yea, it’s the big cheese’s favorite drink and he’s known for liking it rough.” You wink, somehow making Steve flush more. That made you want to push it more. “I’ve got some corn in the back they call the Y/N because it feels really good when it’s going down.” That makes Steve choke a little and induces a hearty laugh from the group. “Can I get you a glass, Soldier?”

“Y-Yea, I’d like that.” Steve flushes. It was almost fun at this point.

“I’d love to try the real thing.” Bucky says, flirting right back with a smirk you knew has to make every girl in the 40s weak in the knees. You didn’t indulge him though.

“Well, aren’t you a regular cake-eater.” You smirk. “I’ll be back with two glasses.”

“I see the serum didn’t enhance your ability to talk to pretty girls.” Bucky laughs as you want away. Steve can’t help but become a little distracted by the sway of your hips.

The rest of the night seemed to go like that. You bringing them drinks and flirting with the captain anyway you could just to see the pretty flush that spread across his face. But soon the time came for the superheroes to take their leave. As you sat the check in front of Tony, you brushed a hand over the Captain’s shoulder admiring the broadness of them.

“You’ll come back and see me, Sugar?” You say, phrasing it like a question despite it not really being one. Steve nods, dumbfounded by you. You smile and wink at him before walking away.

You’re in the kitchen eating the pizza you had ordered earlier when your manager, Dean comes out of his office for the first time that shift.

“Y/N!” You roll your eyes when you hear him scream your name. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m eating dinner. Something I could’ve done on my break if I ever got one.”

“You know you’re not supposed to be eating anything that couldn’t be made in the 30s. People pay for the illusion and if they see you gorging yourself on pizza, it ruins it.”

“No one’s looking in the fucking kitchen, Dean.”

“Uh-huh, and another thing. You know what kind of songs you’re supposed to sing.” You roll your eyes harder. You knew this argument was coming. “That song is from the 50s and you knew it.”

“None of those bullshit hipsters know who Ella fucking Fitzgerald is!” You yell. “Much less what years her fucking songs came out. That song killed and that’s all that fucking matters.”

“Change your set or you’re fired.”

That makes you laugh in his face. “Uh-huh, as if you’re going to find a singer who’ll work as cheap as me.” You say, brushing past him. “See you tomorrow.”

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

Steve comes back to the bar the following week. He tells himself that it’s just for a quick drink but he knew the real reason was because he could not stop thinking about you. He also knew you were probably just being friendly because it’s your job to. He just needed you to reject him so he could go on with his life.

He found himself in that hallway again approaching the woman he had seen last week.

“Evening, Sir.” She says. “Are you lost?”

“Umm.. I have a meeting with Mr. Volstead?” Steve questions, not really recalling the password fully.

The woman hums. “Nice night, no?” She says.

“I prefer the rain.”

The woman sighs. “I’m sorry. I typically would let you in because I don’t really care but technically I’m not supposed to let anyone who doesn’t know the password in… even if they are kinda famous.” She says. “The password changes every week. I’m sure if you ask Mr. Stark, he can find it for you.”

“Oh, no worries. Sorry for wasting your time.” Steve sighs, turning back out the building.

He’s approaching where he parked his bike when he hears a string of expletives being screamed followed with a car stuttering before not starting. He looks over to see a woman angrily get out of her car and lift the hood to see it smoking. The woman lets out another stream of expletives before kicking the tire and leaning her head on the roof of the car, defeated. For some reason, he feels compelled to go over and see how he could help. As he got closer he couldn’t believe his luck, it was you. He tapped you lightly on the shoulder and you turned with the beginnings of tears in your eyes.

“Oh, Soldier!” You said, quickly turning around to wipe your eyes and putting the facade you typically used with customers back up. “I almost got offended when you didn’t come back to see me. Imagine a broad’s old luck.” You said, smiling flirtatiously. Steve didn’t buy that smile for a second. He could see in your eyes you were still upset.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Oh, everything’s swell! This old jalopy has seen better days, gonna drop a dime to a friend hopefully--” You cut yourself off, switching into your normal speaking voice. “Listen, I’m sorry I just can’t keep talking like this off the clock. I’ll drive myself insane. Please, don’t tell my boss. I’m already on thin ice for not ‘maintaining the illusion’.”

Steve laughs, a weight suddenly feeling lifted off his shoulders. Suddenly you weren’t this mysterious woman who seemed to have all the right things to say and how to say them. You were human, just like him. “Your secret’s safe with me.” He says.

“Good.” You say, smiling briefly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ve gotta call Triple A for a tow.” You say, pulling your cell phone out. Steve had to admit it looked a little weird to see you with a cellphone in your olden days attire.

“How will you get home?” He asks.

“I’ll probably hoof it.” You shrug. “Or take the subway.”

“At night?!” Steve says, incredulously. “No, I can take you if you’d like.”

You look at him, hopefully. “I don’t want to be a burden.” You say.

“You won’t be one.” He smiles. God, that smile made you feel a little weak.

“Okay.” You smile back.

“Are you hungry by chance?” He asks, as the two of you walk back to his ride. “I was going to eat in the bar but I couldn’t remember the password.” He says, sheepishly.

That makes you laugh out loud. “Those passwords are such bullshit, Dean keeps changing them to keep it ‘exclusive’ but they always end up online anyway.” You say. “Every server has their own password, to keep track of regulars coming in. If you tell them you have a rose delivery for Mae, They’ll take you to my table no questions.”

“Mae?” Steve asks.

“For Mae West.” You explain, That makes Steve laugh again, of course you liked Mae West. “I could eat though. There’s actually a diner right down the road from here.”

“Perfect.” He says, straddling onto his bike. He raises an eyebrow at you when you hesitate. “Something wrong?”

“I’ve never ridden on a bike before is all.”

“As long as you hold on to me, you’ll be fine.” He says, smirking when he sees a flush creep over your face as he hands you his helmet. It was about time for you to be flustered by your interactions.

“I have no problems with that.” You say, placing that helmet on your head after you straddle the bike behind him. Your hands are tight around his waist as the two of you ride out of the lot, leaving Paradise behind.

Taglist: @buckybarneshairpullingkink

#steve x reader #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve Rogers x self insert #steve x you #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain America x y\n #captain america imagine #steve rogers imagine

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years

Text

We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow

Minghao: Chapter 4 (Broken Coastline)

Characters: Minghao x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, blood mentions, mentions of sleep seducing (If that’s a thing?), death mentions, lots of tension. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: So this is a bit short, but I’ve had a long week and have homework to finish. So I split this chapter in two.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Tag List- @studioreader @imtotallydef

Unable to Tag For Some Reason- @qiuscloud

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

We Might Be Dead By Tomorrow Master List

Chapter 4: Broken Coastline

You hadn’t come out of your room for nearly a week. You didn’t want to. The entire pack was downstairs and knew SOMETHING had happened between the two of you, they just weren’t sure WHAT had happened. And because they didn’t know any better, they were treating him rather normally. It made you sick.

Even if you didn’t have the energy to go and explain why they should hate him with you, you still just wanted them to go with it. They were now your pack too, you expected them to be just as upset as you were. Logically, you knew they had no idea what had happened, they probably all just thought it was a fight that had blown up. But they were wrong. You wanted them to side with you and to be mad at him for you because you didn’t have it in you to hate him.

The only time you’d allow him near you was at night. He would come and sleep in your shared bed at night, then he would leave first thing when he woke up so he wouldn’t upset you. But him just being there upset you. Knowing he was so close to you yet so far away upset you. Knowing he had done what he had done upset you. Loving him even after it all upset you. And it was just getting worse as they days went on.

It took everything you had in you everyday not to claw his golden eyes out of their sockets whenever you saw them now. Part of you even wanted to kill him for the hurt he put you through honestly, but you knew that would solve nothing and would only make you hurt more. He was still your mate after all, your cheating victim playing mate.

He just wanted you to forgive him. He knew it was selfish to want such a thing so quickly even though it had only been days since the incident. But he couldn’t help it. He loved you, he wanted you as close to him as possible all the time. That’s why when you said you didn’t care whether he slept next to you not, he jumped at the chance. Though you wouldn’t face him and you’d hide and retract under your covers till you knew he had went.

You’d hardly let him within spitting distance of you other than that. It hurt him deeply to hear your cries from downstairs. He knew he had broken you and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to repair you.

But he was determined to try whenever you’d let him, he’d do anything for you. Even if it meant getting the door slammed in his face every hour, he would still do it if it meant you’d even speak to another person because as of that moment, you hadn’t since it all happened.

You told him once that you did that from time to time. Whenever you’d go through something traumatic or tore you to your core, you’d go mute for a long time. He really thought you were joking when you had told him that, but now, after about a week of you being absolutely silent other than your cries, he knew you were telling him the truth.

Him and the other boys were shaken, you had become quite the chatterbox since they had known you and now all of a sudden you barely made a sound to breathe. Even when one of the younger boys would bring you food, you never said so much as a thank you. Which was strange for you, you were usually very respectful and grateful.

Now, it was like the light that had been burning inside you had been blown out. Like the laughter and all the joy had been sucked out of your lungs and replaced with depression and disdain. And it was all Minghao’s fault.

“Alright, I’m just gonna say it: what the actual fuck happened to (Y/N)?” Jihoon finally stated, slamming his hands on the table after Hansol had gotten no response from you while delivering your dinner.

There was a roar of agreement that spread throughout the table, “Yeah, she used to be so happy and cheerful all the time and now it’s like she… i dont know just want to die or something” Mingyu scratched the back of his head in worry.

“Yeah. So what the actual FUCK did you do to her Hao?” Jihoon stood up from his seat and pushed himself to stand in front of the younger wolf.

The other boys were upset that Minghao had upset you sure, but the quieter members of the group were the ones that were the most pissed off. You had gone out of your way to speak with them and connect with them. And suddenly it was as if you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone. Jihoon was one of those pack members and he was angry and wanted answers.

Minghao swallowed a lump that had accumulated in his throat before he spoke up, “N-Nothing happened. She’s fine. She just… needs some time is all…”

“Yeah?” Junhui rolled his eyes, “Well how MUCH time then? Because she’s definitely not getting better, if anything she’s getting worse by the day!”

Part of the younger Chinese wolf just snapped at his elder giving him shit. He wasn’t even sure why. He had every right to be upset and want answers for your odd behavior, they all did. But he hated the 3rd degree everyone started to give him and the fact that one of the boys he looked up to the most came for him too really sent him over the edge.

“I DONT KNOW OKAY??? She’ll be better whenever she feels like it! I dont fucking control her and she’s the one that decided to be upset with me! So how about you all just cut me some fucking slack and realize I’m just as messed up okay!” He snarled, quieting the rest of the boys whispers and small talk.

All the boys looked up at his now standing form, his eyes had shifted from their usual golden glow to their blood red simmering gaze. They weren’t used to such a level headed member of the pack going off so easily so it took them all for a bit of a spin.

Just as one of the alphas was about to speak up to tell Minghao it wasn’t his place to shout at Jun in such a disrespectful manner, they heard a bedroom door from upstairs close.

The entire kitchen and living room went silent as they listened to where the footsteps that stepped out of the bedroom where going. And of course, they began making their way down the stairs.

It felt like hours before your form finally appeared slowly making your way down the stairs. You looked… rough to say the least. Your hair was in a very messy bun that looked as if it had been caught in a wood chipper, your skin was paler and looked as if all the color had been drained from it, and your eyes were red and puffy.

You had streams of tears stained on your face and your nose was runny and leaky. You looked like you had been crying the entire time you locked yourself up in your room. You had a cotton blanket wrapped around your tired body and had been dressed in some gray sweats you had managed to steal from the market for comfort. You looked so weak that one good gust of wind could’ve probably sent you flying.

It sent a sharp pain to Minghao’s heart to see you so disheveled. All the boys hoisted themselves on their feet to basically stand attention to you after having not seen you in so long.

“(Y/N)?” He managed to whimper out.

You simply narrowed your eyes at him in return and made your way past all the boys to the cabinets. They all watched as you lazily grabbed a glass from one of them and positioned it under the sink and turned the water one. You waited for the cup to be almost full before you turned the tap back off and brought the cold glass to your lips before tilting your head back. You downed the entire glass before you sat the empty vessel down into the sink’s basin.

After regaining a bit of breath and composure, you made our way past them again, making sure to give Minghao your best look of anger on the way. Though to the guys, it looked like you were trying your best not to cry again after having not seen him in so long.

You made your way back up the stairs and retreated back up to your cave of a bedroom before hitting the door closed. The room stayed so quiet that you could’ve heard a pin drop to the floor with ease.

Finally, Joshua was the one to break the silence, “Dude… what did you do to her…?” He turned to Hao with watery eyes.

As Minghao looked up to defeat himself, he was met with 12 sets of teary eyes. They knew he had done something to absolutely destroy you based on your appearance just moments ago, they just weren’t sure what.

He let out a shakey breath before he sat back down on his chair with his hands covering his face, “You guys might want to sit down for this…”

(Updated 9/25)

#seventeen #seventeen au #seventeen angst #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt au #seventeen minghao #svt minghao #minghao #the8

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accio-victuuri · 3 years

Text

2017 BJYX Timeline : At First Sight.

Everything starts with a blank canvass. Oh we painted each others lives inch by inch. from black, gray and blue to colors we never thought existed. Two photos from different places, longing to be one.

Let’s start from the beginning of this whirlwind timeline. There will be very minimal interaction between our boys, but this will also be a good time to see how they were before working together. I wanted to paint a picture of XNINE’s Xiao Zhan and Idol Wang Yibo. Before their names got tied to the Untamed and each other.

They were doing their own thing, working hard with their careers, no clue that one chance meeting will be so important. Warning, this post is video links, image and information heavy. I am missing some stuff because this hell site refuses to save things and continues to glitch.

🡆 MARCH 2017

03242017 : The story starts when XNINE was a guest in Day Day Up. When asked, they always say that this is the first time they met. However, they did not interact at all.

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But there are definitely times on this episode where they pay attention to each other and it’s so cute. You can find different videos that will highlight these moments better than any screencaps can.

1. Web Stealing a glance at GG

2. First meeting

3. Gun heart - This is the gesture GG used when he introduced himself. The hosts all imitated him and teased, that included Web who smiled too. The same love gesture will be seen in the following years as “their thing”.

4. Doing the same steps for the dance.

5. Web allowing GG to pass and did not lift up the bamboo to trap him when it’s his turn.

6. Red string of Fate

7. Love at first sight-ology

When asked about this shooting, especially the segment when they were in the fields— GG said it was too cold. There is also CPN that the bag Web was using was GG’s.

03252017: Yin Yue V-Chart Interview with XNINE. GG talking about being scolded for not updating his video diaries and updating his fans. 😂 On the same day that this interview came out, he posted a selfie.

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🡆 APRIL 2017

04022017 : XNINE shanghai concert - BE A MAN. blessing us with this dance from GG. The next one is the one that the Untamed Cast were watching. He also posted a selfie for this night.

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Full video of the concert

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04082017 : The Wolf starts filming. According to GG, this is the drama that made him decide to really be an actor.

04092017 : Web attends the 17th Top Chinese Music Awards and wins Best New Idol. This also blessed us with the blindfold dance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AW9gM7tfyFM

04132017: Southern Metropolis Entertainment Interview - XNINE. GG sings Jay Chou’s Love confession on this one ( I died ). We also see his very shy side when people say that he is the Visual of the group. Also, LOL at Peng Chuyue’s face when GG says this.

https://youtu.be/X8Xoax8dIHM

04162017: Posts a selfie on set of The Wolf in the blistering cold.

04242017: XNINE “Say No” BTS is released.

https://youtu.be/wU_tKzK64Ns

04252017: GG posts a selfie.

04282017 : Release of Single “Say No” - XNINE

04292017 : Wang Yibo X Guan Xiaoton release of the song Once Again for the Once Again OST.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t0TT8y7VXNk

🡆 MAY 2017

05072017: GG posts himself with that stubble.

05292017: Another selfie in specs.

🡆 JUNE 2017

060172017 : Both GG and Web posted selfies for Children’s Day.

06082017: Zhelife

06222017: Another selfie. I’m side eyeing the date this was posted wtf. 622.

06232017 : Posted alot of selfies this time. This is one of those.

🡆 JULY 2017

072017 - Filming for GG’s “Battle through the Heavens” has ended where played the role of Lin Xiuya.

07032017 : GG posted a bare face selfie, wearing Stussy!

07032017: Adidas NEO CF for Web

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNYqVa58mgg

07102017 : Web CF for Estee Lauder. Our boi in shorts and white shorts, using estee lauder in the morning.

https://youtu.be/xeTT0QR_iKs

07192017: Idol Interview - XNINE @ Asian Music Gala. They won the Most Popular Group award. This is Where you can see a very quiet GG who does not speak at all. https://youtu.be/7dwA6WwD-5c

07202017: Cute selfie.

07272017: Posted a selfie photoset which includes the photo he sent to Web, apparently, in 2018. I’m a love at first sight believer, so I don’t buy the story that this was only sent in 2018. hahahah! don’t believe me.

🡆 AUGUST 2017

08042017: GG posted a Happy Birthday message to DDU for their anniversary. DDU weibo account responded with :

“Thank you handsome and attractive little zhan zhan! ( btw little Day Day won’t tell you that a colleague of us already became your fan. )”

08082017 : XNINE Metersbonwe photoshoot.

https://youtu.be/jM9lla6aF08

08152017: Episode 1 of Love Actually Drama aired with Web acting alongside Joe Chen. He played the role of Zhai Zhiwei who is an IT genius.

08162017 : First episode of the TV program "When we were young" airing. Web guest starred on this, for episodes 16-17 and played the role of Lin Jiayi.

08242017 : Web shoot for Once Again MV the making released.

https://youtu.be/-yn_st5vOO0

08252017: XNINE “be strong girl” campaign message. Have some encouraging words from GG.

08272017 : XNINE performs at Fresh Asia Awards.

https://youtu.be/PzGlTQ3Fga0

08302017 : “Unsurpassed Conference” ; Where we got this absolute gem of him not wanting to talk but ended up being a host on DDU.

Web : I don’t really like talking

Host : so you went to DDU

Web : I don’t know why I went too..

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjO5vIfD_PQ

🡆 SEPTEMBER 2017.

09052017 : Wang Yibo and Joe Chen video in an Amusement Park shooting the drama “Love Actually”.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__gIWih39Is

09162017 : Wang Yibo attended the “2017 Asian Influence Awards Ceremony.” and won Best New actor.

09222017: Web interview and photo shoot for Hey idol. This shoot is responsible for that photo where Web eats an orange like an Apple.

https://youtu.be/wCqVxog9i18

09232017: Selfie time again

09262017: Web and Wenhan represent UNIQ as they perform in TV Online Video Influence Ceremony

https://youtu.be/lc_cvlLtSaA

09272017: Web AD for KFC. Please watch this. He looks good in Yellow- dancing and eating chicken. I STAN THIS BOI!

https://youtu.be/ABH3BfZf4dg

🡆 OCTOBER 2017

10102017: Posted cute selfies with him as a cat and a Pig. hmmm. pig?

🡆 NOVEMBER 2017

11072017: Web’s Just Dance single is announced. This is the Theme song of 4th Xuan Wu Festival

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvsyOxC6cs4

11092017 : Filming of Oh My Emperor has finished. GG plays the role of Bei Tang Moran in this drama that will be broadcast in 2018.

11092017 : Web attends the Ifeng Fashion show event where he won Most Popular New Actor.

11162017 : Web recording the song “just Dance”. does the clothes he’s wearing remind you of another recording session?

11212017 : Web x Fashionable Photoshoot

11262017 : Attending and performing in Star Night of Mister Inke. His style in this one is really Joker-like.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75wtl-JAjis

🡆 DECEMBER 2017

2020 : Web is cast in the science fiction drama Super Talent/ My strange friend.

12032027: XNINE performs “ We want what we want”.

https://youtu.be/IJNIgPl8ImI

12032017: Web performs JUST DANCE in Tencent Games Carnival.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbIzvMut2CY

12092017: Photoshoot with Rayli

12122017: Photoshoot with Cheese Fashion

12132017: Photoshoot with NTSnap

12142017 : BEST TASTE releases one of it’s short films that include Wang Yibo. We see two personas in this feature and it’s really interesting.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YP83-bEOEv0

This one called “耳” Ear; about sounds. [What we heard can’t take away by time 🕙 ]all the good memories when we were a child, some one them we might not be able to remember what happened, but when you hear the sound/voice of them, they trigger our memories

12152017: Volunteer Union photoshoot / campaign

12172017 : Attending Tencent Star Charity Night

12202017 : Photoshoot feature with our street style AKA everyone's favorite Web flower boi spread.

12222017: "Just Dance" single MV release

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=asb8I3oqG00

12222017 : Winter solstice post from both of them. Talking about eating tangyuan. It’s of those mirroring posts, but again, could just be coincidence that they posted something similar.

12312017 : Web Participates in Hunan TV’s new year countdown as a Host.

*** Note 01 : In 2017, XNINE was transferred from EE media to Long Danni’s Wajijiwa Ent. Company. Some initial problems that they had was that their company was more interested in promoting them as actors and not as an idol group. They were also not kept safe in public venues which will be a recurring issue to GG as we go along other timelines.

*** Note 02 : I wanted to add Web’s Rossi posts and more pictures but it won’t save (will try again at a later date, but I think Web’s awards and projects are more important to highlight here). LOL. Thankfully, GG’s selfies worked. I mainly added stuff that they did in 2017 to give a sense of where they were career-wise.

*** Note 03 : Looking at how this timeline turned into a monster, I will probably split the 2018 timeline into two parts. Forever Summer Part I & Forever Summer Part 2. Seeing the amount of Activity these two did in 2018 alone is STAGGERING. Plus, this site is glitching with all the content when I save it so splitting it might be better. if you have suggestions, let me know.

#yizhan #bjyx #bjyx timeline

280 notes · View notes

thedumpsterqueen · 4 years

Text

Standards of Performance

Here it is!!!!! First chapter of my first fic on my new AO3! This is a multi-chapter, slow burn work. Please let me know what you think, I welcome screaming and incoherent asks about our fave special agent in my inbox. Full text under the cut, or you can find it through the AO3 link below.

AO3 link

Summary: You're the BAU's newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 1, Coffee Stains and Neckties

Words: 2388

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Warnings: Not much for this chapter specifically, but let’s just assume general gore and murder stuff, explicit language, and sexual content are fair game form here on out.

Enjoy! I’ll try to update weekly, if not more often. I’ll let you know when I have a more defined schedule!

“Fucking SHIT!”

You cursed as you felt the (very, very) hot coffee soak your new skirt. Grabbing as many paper towels as you could with one hand, you tried to sop up the mess on the floor. The stain on your outfit? A shame, but nothing compared to marring the assuredly expensive cream color of the BAU’s breakroom carpet.

A low chuckle sounded off behind you, and you froze.

For the love of god, please don’t be…

“Morgan! Please tell me you have carpet cleaner, oh my god. I don’t even know how that happened.”

Morgan grinned, as he typically did, sauntering into the breakroom with his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, the janitor's got it later. I was looking for you, team meeting in five. You all good? You look a little - ” he paused, probably searching for a descriptor that wouldn’t sting too bad, “ - rushed.”

You stood up, sighing. He was right, after all. You had stayed up late last night poring over psychology textbooks and only just woken up in time to leave your apartment. As the BAU’s newest profiling intern - whatever the hell that actually meant - the pressure of performing to seasoned profilers’ standards manifested in spending practically all your free time buried in research. Hence why your hair was coated in unbelievable amounts of dry shampoo, you were wearing your unflatteringly oversized glasses instead of your usual contacts, and why your frantic attempt at pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you got into work had resulted in the giant wet spot currently soaking your skirt.

At least the skirt was black.

“You’re right. Late night,” you said, rolling your eyes at Morgan’s suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“Not like that, I wish. Just trying to catch up. Don’t really want to repeat last week’s disaster,” you mumbled, referring to the first time you actually got to question a suspect, which had ended up with a wad of saliva hawked in your face. It was only your third week in the position, but damn, if that hadn’t let the wind out of your sails a bit.

“Hey, what did I tell you then?” Morgan asked, as you walked out of the breakroom together. “You’re not a true profiler until you get assaulted by a serial killer!”

“I’m not a true profiler until I finish the year long training program,” you pointed out, “so I think I could do without the spit in the meantime.”

Morgan laughed, opening the door of the team’s briefing room for you. “Well if we’d known you were gonna be so picky, we might have gone with someone else.”

“Who’s picky?” asked Emily, looking up from her seat.

While Morgan laughed and launched into a dramatic retelling of the event as if the entire team hadn’t already fucking seen it in real time, you took your seat at the table. Reid nodded in acknowledgment, and you returned it with a small smile. Damn if he wasn’t handsome, and ridiculously smart to boot, but you were pretty sure your chances with him withered and died when you asked him what he was doing after work last Friday and he answered with, “Reading.” Point taken.

Hotch swiveled in his chair to face the table and you suddenly became acutely aware of how much of a mess you probably looked. It’s not that you cared about his opinion regarding your general appearance beyond the basic standard of professional attire, but his always-intense gaze and stony expression had a way of making you second guess even your most confidently held opinions.

“Sit,” he said, his voice cutting through the rest of the team’s animated chatter.

It would have been hard not to notice how quickly they obliged, not out of fear, but rather a respect and deference so deeply ingrained that it almost gave you goosebumps. You’d never thought of yourself as a follower, per say, but if Hotch was what a leader looked like, you certainly didn’t fit into that category either.

He scanned the table, stopping on you. “New glasses?” he asked, with a single, slightly raised eyebrow.

“I, um, not really, just didn’t have time to put my contacts in,” you stammered.

“Hm,” Hotch said, “They look nice.”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, and you thanked him quickly, looking down at your shoes to conceal the pink that was probably spreading across your face. Hotch had a way of speaking that made everything he said sound like the absolute truth, which was probably why such an innocuous little compliment had disarmed you so much.

Still though, jesus christ. Get it the fuck together. You’re not Reid; you’re not smart enough to be this awkward.

Hotch, blessedly ignoring how painful you just made that interaction, addressed the team while JJ passed out files. “We have a new case. Three bodies, all found completely drained of blood in various woods, off hiking trails. Cause of death appears to be blood loss from severed carotid arteries, meaning they were likely strung up and drained before being moved to where they were discovered.”

Reid spoke up first. “Erm, what exactly do you mean by various woods?”

“That’s the unusual thing,” Hotch said, pulling up a map of the southwestern United States on the screen behind him. "Each body was found in a different state, one here, one here, and one here,” pointing to spots in California, Arizona, and Nevada. “However, local police discovered the bodies within hours of each other due to anonymous tip offs, and medical examiners estimate approximately the same time of death for all three.”

Morgan whistled lowly. “So what you’re saying is, this guy kills three victims around the same time and takes a road trip to hide their bodies in places he knows won't be discovered until he calls in.”

“That’s how it appears, yes,” Hotch confirmed.

Rossi shook his head, twirling a pen that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. “So, how are we splitting this up?”

You whipped your head in his direction. Splitting up? Of course, you should have known it’d only make sense considering the ground to be covered, but your quick mental calculations told you that there were six of them, evenly split into three groups of two, and one odd man out, both in skill and number - you.

“So, who’s getting stuck with me?” you asked, trying to beat everyone to the punch. Not that any of them would voice it, but if you couldn’t project confidence, you figured self-awareness would do.

When you entered the internship as a recent college grad around a month ago, you knew you’d be in way over your head. Everyone else on the team was a seasoned expert, and you were a 20-something with a degree in psychology who somehow managed to charm her way through the interviews of the BAU’s flagship internship program. It’s not that you weren’t smart, you were, of course, but comparatively? You were pretty sure this was shaping up to be a glorified babysitting program, and you were the baby.

“Oh, hush,” JJ said, smiling and shaking her head. You smiled back. JJ had gone out of her way to make you feel welcome, which you were unspeakably grateful for. Between her and Morgan, you sometimes felt like maybe when this year was done, you could actually belong on this team.

Hotch interrupted your pity party. “Rossi, you’re with Reid in Phoenix. JJ and Emily, you’re going to Vegas. Morgan, you and I are going to San Diego.”

He turned to you. “You’re coming with me.”

Your stomach flipped at his words. You knew he had the most to teach you, and you could observe him coordinating the entire investigation from San Diego, but the idea of your performance being directly scrutinized by your boss in such a small group made you more nauseous than excited.

“Please be aware,” he continued, “Garcia is going to have to deal with three times the inquiries as normal. I recommend you only contact her if the information you’re searching for is genuinely too difficult to find yourself.” He gave Morgan a pointed look, to which Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning.

“We’ll drop teams off as we go,” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.”

____________

As you settled into your seat on the plane, your mind spun, trying to review every piece of psychology knowledge you’d ever encountered. This wasn’t your first case, but it was the first one you got to travel for, which made it feel much more real.

The hours ticked by as the team reviewed the case. You contributed - not much, and nothing they wouldn’t have thought of without you - but it was something. Narcissist, craves attention and spotlight, physically confident enough to detain and murder three women at the same time. The method was throwing the team for a loop, however. Bleeding the victims out was clinical, relatively painless - uncharacteristic of the sexual injuries found on the corpses and the bravado with which the killer executed the rest of the crime.

When you, Hotch, and Morgan trudged off the plane in San Diego, you had been going at the potential profile for hours and even Morgan’s patience was wearing thin.

“Look, Hotch, let’s hold off on speculation until we see the crime scene in person, alright?”

Hotch nodded, and took that as a cue to head straight to the crime scene. You groaned internally - having barely showered this morning and spent half the day on a plane, your greasy hair and coffee-stained skirt would have greatly benefited from a stop at the hotel to freshen up.

It’s not like you have to look good to go stare at a patch of dirt where a dead body used to to be though, right?

____________

Turns out the aforementioned patch of dirt was actually a wooded grove off a hiking trail leading to a nude beach, much to Morgan’s delight. The site itself was uninteresting except for the way the body had been buried - covered up very securely, implying remorse, another characteristic that didn’t make sense with the initial profile.

This commonality between all three crime scenes was hotly debated on the video conference between the entire team when you got back to the hotel. Cross legged on the bed in Hotch’s hotel room, you listened to Reid and Rossi snipe back and forth on the laptop about what the burial method could mean for ten-plus minutes (“It’s clearly just a functional tool to properly hide the body, Reid.” “But you don’t know that, the significance of burial practices can tell us so much more beyond function, it can even tell us about his religious upbringing…”) before Hotch put a stop to it.

“What do you think?” Hotch asked you, turning and looking directly into your gaze. You were suddenly hyperware of the proximity between you two - sitting close enough on the edge of the bed that your thighs were almost touching. Morgan had abandoned his position on the other side of you to stretch out in the armchair by the window halfway through Rossi and Reid’s debate. Hotch’s eyes boring into yours from only a few feet away and the expectant silence of the other team members on the video call spiked your heart rate, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I… agree with Dr. Reid. I think it means something. The position of the hands, they were crossed across the chest, right? He didn’t need to do that. I don’t know if it means he was remorseful, but it was on purpose. I think.”

Hotch nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Let's move forward with that theory.” He turned back to the laptop. “Let me know how interviews with the loved ones go tomorrow. Let’s find the connection between the victims. Call me if you need anything.” After shutting the laptop, he turned to you and Morgan. “Let’s call it for tonight. Meet me in the lobby at 7 tomorrow.”

Having been excused, you and Morgan made your way to your hotel rooms next to Hotch’s. Morgan wished you goodnight, and you unlocked your door and practically sprinted into your shower.

After you got out, you looked around the room, towel drying your hair. It was nice, much nicer than anywhere you’d ever stayed. The abstract art on the walls and the modern, clean white lines of the furniture were lit by the soft glow of the sunset filtering through the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony overlooking the ocean. You poured yourself a glass of wine from the minibar (a reimbursable travel expense, right?) and stepped onto the balcony, breathing in the ocean air.

“Nice night, hm?”

You jumped, nearly spilling your drink down your front for the second time in less than 24 hours. Hotch was sitting in a chair on his balcony to the left of yours, reclining with his hands behind his head. Despite wearing nothing but your thin hotel robe, you felt the urge to avert your eyes from him. His suit jacket was shucked, tie undone and hanging around his neck, and the top two buttons of his white, collared shirt were unbuttoned. You felt like you were seeing something you shouldn’t have, like the cold stoniness of his exterior had shifted just slightly and allowed you a glimpse underneath.

It’s just a couple buttons, calm down. You’re the one who’s barely clothed in front of your fucking boss.

“It is. Shame we can’t go to the beach,” you replied, keeping your eyes forward.

Oh my god, three women were murdered and I just complained to my boss about not being able to go to the beach.

“You’re welcome to get up early and go tomorrow; might be a bit cold,” Hotch replied. You could tell from his voice he was smiling.

You mumbled in affirmation, continuing to avoid glancing in his direction. “Well, I just wanted to see the view, um, I’m gonna get to bed. Goodnight, Agent Hotchner!” You ducked back into your room, and you could have sworn you heard him chuckle before you slid the door shut.

After getting ready, beating yourself up mentally for your complete social incompetence, and tucking in under the plush, white duvet, you drifted off to sleep.

458 notes · View notes

shesawriter39049 · 4 years

Text

|ROLL DEEP|M| P.1

*Yoongi centered fic with a shared OT7 plot*

CH.1.1 CH. 1.2

**Operation: What’s eating blue!?***

_________________________________________________________

“Stop, this stopped being a you, thing and became a us thing the minute we chose to show up here tonight! You gave us an out and we stayed...we will always stay...”

1.2 K Sneak Peek

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Sugar baby AU/Suspense/Smut/Angst/Roomate AU/FWB AU

WC: 7K

Nonsexual Warnings: Mentions of drug use (Molly/weed/)Strong language/ Alcohol addictions/ brief mentions/ speculations of domestic violence/abuse

Sexual Warnings: Oral (M & F receiving) power bottom Min Yoongi, cum play, breath play, spanking, dirty talk, Slight overestimation, sex toys (Cock rings....) Semi-public sex (A chill little blow job in the car) The sexual warnings are for both parts of CH.1 so the smut is split in half!

NOTE: Just to clarify the dynamic Yoongi and the OC are roommates who hookup on the side, they are BOTH sugar babies to two separate people! So yes, that would imply that Yoongi and some of the other boys who are also sugar babies are Bi. There is no MxM but there is mentions of it occasionally….as well as some harmless ot7 flirting! Also all of the boys are introed, Tae and Joon just play a lager part here!

_______________________________________________

I guess, fuck where do we even start? Maybe, will go back to where it all technically started, which was the last time things felt...somewhat normal yeah?

So, that would be...hmm...about 2 weeks shy of you heading into Junior year at USC right? The day your boys picked you up at the airport, and the three of your treated Blue, aka TaeTae to brunch!?

Well, wait let’s back track a little it all started much eariler than that, because you weren’t even aware of your brunch plans until later in the day. So Initially the day in question kicks of with you, in oversized blacked out CHLOE shades, hungover as fuck, sat in at the airport one Sunday afternoon. Smack dab in the middle of Terminal 6, in a bar called Blu2o sipping on a Bloody Mary, scrolling aimlessly through Snapchat. While simotaniously being told for the very first time ...that you’ll be attending a “Haute Couture” themed charity auction...on Tuesday! Yup, the day after tomorrow! Thank god he can’t see your damn face right now, biting down on your straw to muzzle yourself!

“No, babe it’s fine, I’ll just hit Rodeo tomorrow morning, and I’m sure my nail and lash girl can fit me-Oh you...haven’t gotten... what ...your wearing either?” Parroting the words back In slow motion as if it would make the words sound better or something!

Oh for fucks sake! Bringing your forehead flush to the marble bartop already feeling a full blown migraine brewing at the nape of your neck. Giving yourself a couple moments to self compose, this man is so damn unorganized it’s unfucking real. His personal assistant better be the 2nd highest paid person within his entire company because…..This is far from new, I don’t even know why your suprised and I’d say you don’t get paid enough for this....but ya do! So you suck it up, lose the attitude and slip right into your “Yes sir” or maybe I should say ‘Yes daddy” voice.

“Don’t worry about it, I know your busy. I totally get it, your a 28 waist right? Of course, I remember...I remember everything you tell me….Ohhh your gonna let me put you in color too???” Eyes flickering up to the notification from your bank, noting a cute little 12k wire pending.

“Yeah, no, I see it, that should be good. I was thinking Versace or Cavili for you anyway...they have good prints to fit the theme, and if all else fails I have my card too…yup..just landed about..hmm... 30 minutes ago actually. Of course, stop apologizing, Sunday's are always your golf days, I get it, hey, tell the guys I said hi and enjoy your day. Text me later if you feel up to it..k....bye..”

Were you actually getting a little flustered there towards the end? It's the slight accent, isn't it? Honestly, it didn't take much for you to slip into “character” with him, even after barely being together a full month. For one he wasn’t an asshole, had a decent sense of humor, and he’s really fuckin hot...however there was one, little, well shit, not so little issue...you noticed while with him recently. Which, then sparked quite a few questions while also answering some that had been rattling through your head since the day you met. But will circle back to the fact that you spent a week on vacation with a man, while dressed in some of the sexiest pieces of 2019 couture! Yet..you barely got touched once outside of a couple chaste kisses and hand-holding while at the two fashion shows you attended together… so, yeah, yeah!

A low groan in frustration rattled from your throat as you continued scrolling through Snapchat, trying to come up with some possible outfit scenarios in your head! It’s kinda funny, how mynute all of that seems now though, how your definition of “Stress” that day was you trying to decide if your sugar daddy was gay, while also finding time to fit in a self-care day, shopping, and getting your books for school!! The fact that, that was what you considered migraine worthy, fuck, what you wouldn’t give to consider multitasking your only maltitude of “stress” again …..

Just in your own little world, mind swirling with a couple of stylists you’ve met along the way, considering the idea of them pulling some vintage pieces for you instead! What you should be doing, is scrolling through your contact list and texting said stylists, instead you find yourself more and more distracted. Getting lost in the mounds of snap updates from Jimin as he “modestly” sunbathed in a private villa in Italy. Then later sharing a glimpse into his shopping spree from Versace, no doubt a good 20k worth of Italian luxury spread out along the plush white sheets. Sending him a cheeky little “That’s my boy” with a couple of smug winky faces in response!

It’s still kinda crazy to think, things like that are considered normal within your world now, the fact that you aren’t even surprised at the number of gifts. Or, simply the fact that your barley 21-year-old best friend is sunbathing in Italy on someone else’s dime. Then again, you just got sent 12 thousand dollars to spend on an event that would last maybe all of 5 hours, while sitting next to a stack of Louis Vuittion luggage from your first class flight in from Vegas, technically. Opting to land there first after a long 15-hour flight, checking in at The Four Seasons for not even a solid 24 hours before coming home! Honestly?There was no real reason for the pit stop except it gave you an excuse to see a friend while also allowing you to unwind in one of your favorite hotels!

That sentence alone is actually absurd when you really think about it, the idea of you casually booking flights and suites in 5-star hotels as if you’re ordering off the damn dollar menu at Mcdonalds! You, the girl that was working two jobs at the Groove and mourning a piece of shit cheating ex boyfriend her freshman year of college.....is now reminiscing about catching flights to chill with friends and last minute finding dresses for Couture themed galas.Like, what the actual fuck is life.... Oh my bad, life at the moment is constantly being paranoid that you and your friends will get arrested! Life in this moment however...was a fucking perfect!

The friend you where meeting in Vegas was Hoseok by the way, the redhead was currently vacationing in Sin City for the next couple of days, typically residing in LA as well. Just Chillin’ before the semester starts, living his best life, which revolves around “OFF-WHITE'' shopping sprees, private dance lessons, and constantly taking thirst trap pics for his 10’s of thousands of followers online. He randomly texts you saying “I miss your face” you text him saying “I land at 8 tonight bring a bottle and sushi to room 605 at The Four Seasons hotel '' Simple!

Your initial flight, the one that was 15 hours, was originally from Paris, where you spent the last week or so with Jeong-su, being arm candy, sipping wine, sightseeing and of course shopping!. Barley 32 hours ago your Snapchat looked pretty damn similar, if not worse in comparison to Jimin’s but what can I say, you can’t be in the home of Givenchy and Gaulthier and not go to Givenchy and Gaultier!

What your life is, what you and your friends do, I mean, I think it’s safe to say it’s pretty self-explanatory yeah? The average 20 something-year-old in college isn't flying themselves out of the country or going luxury shopping without a little help. In your case, it’s typically thanks to a person you commonly refer to as “Daddy” now, the context behind the word however….is where you and your friends may differ from others…..

But that’s your business, your concern and more importantly your choice, and honestly for a while life seemed too damn good to be true...I guess looking back on it now, I guess that’s because it kinda was!

Sat at the predominantly empty bar alone, more than content by the silence, twirling your straw between your lips, as you scanned back over the shit show that was your schedule for the semester! Getting more of a migraine from that, then shopping or even the fact that you're still hungover and drinking on an empty stomach at half-past 12. Shooting a quick text to your redheaded best friend cursing him out for getting you drunk off your ass on a bottle of Yamazaki 12.

“Can I get anything else for you beautiful? Another drink or maybe an appetizer? We have damn good loaded queso fries if I do say so myself!” Waving the menu in your face playfully, the warm, inviting voice in front of you was the bartender, who’s had his eye on you since you swayed in. Even if you looked like crap for your standards you knew to most you were the farthest thing from it as you swayed into the bar like you owned the place. In your heels, and tiny little black dress, while an airport assistant trolied in your luggage behind you! Ohhh Blair Waldorf would without a doubt be proud!

“Mmmm…” Lips pursed in a slight pout as you raked over the menu, honestly, you were hungry and they have bomb ass fried pickles…..”Actually, yeah, I’ll get-”

“ 3 tall shots of whatever top-shelf Tequila you have, also add whatever she’s been drinking to my tab, along with an order of fried pickles with extra ranch…please and thank you!” Smoothly sliding his black card, and ID across the marble bartop for review.

Oh.

The look on the bartender’s face was fucking priceless, torn between shitting himself and maybe….nah, just straight shitting himself! Skin flushed, the sense of panic was clear as day, wondering if he’d overstepped that fine line between customer service and filtration. Considering whoever the person behind you is, clearly knows you well enough to know your food order. A forced bashful smile playing along his lips as he bowed out in acknowledgment, sliding the gentelmen back is ID and whispering out a faint “Yes sir, coming right up…”

The base vibrating through your ears instantly had you readjusting your posture, a strong tingle running down your spine, back arching ever so slightly. A playful smirk playing along your lips as you slowly laced your tongue back around your staw, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“You sure you wanna do that? My tastes are pretty expensive..” Tone blatantly flirtatious, yet you still hadn’t bothered to even turn around, that’s when suddenly you hear a deep arrogant chuckle rumbling low in his chest. Only...this sounds a little brighter? And like it’s coming from your left instead of behind you…

“Mmm, I’m sure we can handle it baby….”

You could feel the air shift behind you, it felt warmer, and there was a strong mix of scents flooding through your nose. Leaning back in your seat, pleasantly finding your shoulders, the back of your neck, and your head, cradled against a lean wall of silk. Sighing contently, naturally letting your body melt into his frame, nose running into your face as you smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. That’s when a gangle of veiny, porcelain limbs wrapped around your shoulders pulling you even tighter against him, only to find brown, sharp, cat-like eyes staring down at you, though a pair of translucent designer shades. Seemingly a little bit amused at how excited you are to see him. Long dark wavy locks falling messily into his face, a tiny silver hoop dawning his button nose. Tongue playing at the corner of his mouth, letting the tiny silver ball slip between his lips. This angle lets you really appreciate how sharp, yet soft his features were, an oxymoron that honestly makes no damn sense unless you see him in person….jawline sharp enough to cut glass yet he has the cutest cheeks ever when he smiles. It honestly makes no sense whatsoever and he’s one of the many reasons you have trust issues. Well, that and your line of work, considering the number of men you find out are married and still try and sneak around with you.

Then, as if to just make his presence known, there’s another pair of hands making their home along your body, gently squeezing your thigh. Except, he’s polar opposite to the person I just described, the man behind you is your roommate Yoongi, the man who just took a seat to your left, is your other roommate Namjoon! First off, he’s tall as all hell, and an offensively perfect shade of brown, he can’t even go into the burbs without being asked what self-tanner he uses. In which he smugly replies “Genetics” letting them sit there and try and google said company that makes that brand of self-tan. Streams of meticulously placed colored neo-traditional tattoos paint his skin, accompanied by deep dimples, and bleach blonde hair styled into an undercut, sides buzzed into the perfect fade.

“So you gonna get up and give me a real hug or what???” Placing a kiss in your hair as he pulled back, giving you room to hop out of your seat and right into his arms.

The Full thing is coming soon, this is from summer 2019, I just have to edit, and reread the full thing again! I also wrote the first 3 parts all at once..sooo if your exicted show this some love anddddddddd come let me know!

Love you as always,

Rocki

#Yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #namjoon #namjoon au #taehyung #taehyung au #bts au fic #bts au #bts smut #kpop smut kpop au #kpop au #min yoongi

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ashleyisdeviant · 5 years

Note

I had a dream the other night where Arin was a sex worked and Dan hired him bc he wanted to experiment with guys... I would write a fic about it, but I’m afraid of writing smut owo” so you can use the idea if you want!

A/N————————————

First off, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING ME MY FIRST PROMPT!

Second, I’ve already gotten a little too carried away with this so I’m probably going to post it in sections because it will be at least 4 parts or longer at the rate it’s going right now. For some reason I’ve gotten so lost in this prompt.

I love the idea and I love you for sending it to me.

There isn’t any smut in this part of the story but there will be plenty in the next.

So without further stalling, here is the first part of what I’m calling...

————Finding myself in you————

(Part 1)

“What the fuck am I doing?” Dan questioned as he fingered the rim of his mug, fighting the urge to look up at every jostle of the bell above the door. He was in his favorite coffee shop, having some hot herbal tea, waiting on a man he’s never met before to come through the doors. Nerves were getting the better of him and he found himself slowly loosing the battle within as he wondered how the fuck he let himself get to this point.

He had to keep reminding himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Everything was completely legal and he paid in full for this service. He felt an involuntary shudder at that word. “Service” made him feel like some kind of man whore or pervert. Still, that’s what it was. They were a company and they needed customers. He was just one of their customers

Another flow of hot tea passed his lips and warmed his throat as he thought about the man he had yet to meet. Dan wondered what the man would be like. The company he used had the option to request specific people based on their picture and a short description, but Dan chose not to do that. He wanted a genuine blind experience to really get an idea as to what he was feeling as of late.

Dan had always been one to try and be as truthful with himself as possible and lately he’s been feeling things changing about himself. Or rather, changing about what he was interested in. He has never be one to shy away from the thought of being gay or bisexual or anything like that, he had just never been interested in anything but girls so he always assumed he was straight. Lately he doesn’t know if that’s completely true anymore.

It started with a stirring in his stomach when he caught a glimpse of his band mate’s bare shoulders and back, broad and strong, muscles rolling beneath skin as he pealed off one shirt to replace it with another. He found he liked the feeling of a strong arm grabbing his shoulders. He shivered when a large palm pressed firmly on his lower back, warm and secure. It all got him thinking, got him wondering, got him wanting.

Dan bit his lip as a slow shiver worked it’s way up his spine. Glancing down at his cup he wondered what the man would look like? What would he sound like? The only pictures that would come to mind were very fit very muscular men, the kind that you would likely see at a male strip club or something. At that Dan felt his chest clench.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with those kinds of men, but he was having trouble seeing himself over top of one, or beside one, or maybe under one...

Dan was rooted so deep in that thought that he didn’t even hear the chime of the bells above the door, or see the figure of a man walking in his direction.

“Excuse me?”

Dan whipped his head up at the sudden voice.

“Yes?” He asked as his eyes were met with a warm brown stare.

“Are you Daniel?” The long haired man before him asked.

Oh shit, Dan thought as he realized who this man must be. He looked nothing like Dan would have thought a male sex worker to look like. He didn’t have rippling muscles or a short fancy hair-do. This guy was by no means chubby, but he had a fuller more delicate figure. His jaw wasn’t chiseled but rather soft and dotted with a thin layer of copper colored hair. His rich brown hair fell to just past his shoulders and he sported a light blonde streak. Full, pink lips curved into a humored smile as Dan finally snapped to attention.

“Uh, yeah.” Dan replied, wiping his palm roughly on his jeans before reaching across the small round table to offer up a hand. “And you are?”

The younger man hesitantly accepted Dan’s hand, giving it a small shake. Dan tried not to focus too much on how soft the other man’s hand felt in his.

“I’m Arin, I was sent by Evening Elation.”

“Right.” Dan said awkwardly.

A few silent seconds ticked by as Dan mentality cursed himself. He wrote music for a living. He studied improv. Why is it now, all of the sudden, Dan couldn’t think of a single thing to say?

Arin shifted his weight back and forth for a moment, then loudly cleared his throat.

“So, is that tea or coffee in your cup?”

Thank god they weren’t both idiots.

“Oh, it’s tea. This place has an amazing forest blend. Dan said as he picked up his cup and gave it a swirl. “Helps to fight off this cold weather.”

Arin nodded.

“Would you like something?” Dan asked gesturing towards the counter.

“Nah,” Arin declined as he made himself comfortable in the chair across from Dan. “Thanks though.”

The tightness in Dan’s chest eased as the conversation began to flow more naturally. He took a long sip from his cup.

“Oh dude, is that a mega man T-shirt?”

Dan glanced down at his oldish looking navy blue mega man shirt, the figure starting to peel off slightly.

“Oh yeah man, that games a classic.”

“It’s my all time favorite game.” Arin added as he shifted in his seat. Dan caught a glimpse of the shirt he was sporting beneath his grey jacket and couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Hey, your shirts pretty sweet too.”

Arin glanced down at himself and placed a hand over the print of two anime style girls in pink and blue fighting attire.

“Oh, thanks man.” He looked a little bashful as he added. “I drew them myself.”

“No way! Really?” Dan leaned closer to get a better look. “That’s so cool.”

He heard Arin give a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, I wanna create an anime for them one day. I think they’re really cute.”

Dan’s eyes flicked back up to Arins.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Arin shrugged a little. “I do a little bit of animation and I really wanna try it out.”

“You animate?” Dan asked as he leaned back in his chair. “That’s really cool. Me and my band mate Brian are thinking about getting a portion of our next music video animated.”

It was Arin’s turn to be impressed.

“You’re in a band?”

Dan chuckled a little and shrugged.

“Yeah. It’s a comedy band. Just a bunch of silly music and dirty jokes. Not what you would normally think of when you hear the word ‘band’ I’m sure.”

“That’s even better.” Arin grinned. Dan couldn’t stop the smile that split his own face. Arin really was kind of beautiful. “Do you mind if I look you up?” Arin asked as he pulled out his phone.

“I don’t mind.” Dan said truthfully. “Just don’t feel obligated to or anything.” Arin shook his head.

“No, I’m really interested.”

Dan placed his elbow on the table and laid his chin in his hand as he watched Arin. The younger man’s hair slowly falling down around his face as he leaned towards his phone. He heard the sound of his own voice singing as Arins mouth turned upwards into a smile. He bobbed his head in time with the beat and occasionally let out a small laugh.

“This is really good, Dan.” He praised. Dan felt his heart warm.

“Thanks so much.”

“Woah, check out that view count!” Arin snapped his eyes up to Dans overtop of his phone. “You’re a bit of a YouTube star, dude.”

Dan didn’t really know what to say to that so he nodded and dropped Arins gaze. He knew that Arin was still staring. He felt it like a hot iron on his skin. Eventually Arin slid his phone back into his pocket.

“So what other games are you into?” Dan asked to fill the silence. Arin took a moment to think.

“I like the first Zelda game pretty good. Recently played shovel knight and really enjoyed that.”

“Punch out?” Dan asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I haven’t actually played that one yet,” Arin confided. “But I really want to.”

“Oh dude!” Dan beamed, a smile spreading widely across his face. “That’s my favorite game! I have it at my place. You should come by and play it.”

That’s when Arin’s posture changed. It was only slightly but it still caught Dan’s attention. Arin’s smile slid into something more practiced as he nodded.

“Yeah man, I’m ready to go when you are.”

For just a moment Dan was confused in the sudden change in the air between them, then he remembered why he was even talking to Arin in the first place, why he was even sitting in this coffee shop right now.

“Oh.”

Dans stomach began to feel heavy again with nerves. He could back out right now if he wanted to, just tell Arin he changed his mind. But then he thought about how that might hurt Arin’s feelings. He really didn’t want to do that, and there was a huge part of him that still needed answers. Dan took one more steadying breath before standing and offering a unwavering hand to Arin.

“I’m ready.”

—————————A/N————————

There you have it. I hope you enjoy it and what’s to come! I will update within the next few days.

💋

#egobang #story prompt #alternate universe

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cptsdstudyblr · 5 years

Text

How I organize my studies with mental health issues

Hi :) I’m just here trying to survive a computer science degree with CPTSD, depression, anxiety, and some physical health issues. However, I’ve figured out a system that really (!!!) helps me keep organized and actually learn things despite all the challenges I face! So, I want to share it with you in case it helps just one person! This post is pretty long, but I promise it’s got tons and tons of amazingly helpful information in it!

I’m lucky enough to have a tablet to help me with my studies, but anything I show today can easily be done on a laptop or even on a phone, so don’t stress!

Initial Note Taking

I prefer to handwrite my initial notes if possible. Sometimes, my professors just go too fast and I have to type them, but if I have the option, I choose to handwrite them. I find that handwriting my notes helps keep my mind focused on the task at hand.

First of all, I’m a very tactile learner, so the act of writing helps me learn the material. However, I’ve found that there are tons of other benefits to writing notes by hand.

If you’re dissociating/anxious/etc., doodling is a good way to center yourself and help yourself calm down.

Handwritten notes are easier (at least in my non-professional opinion) to make neat and pretty, which can be a huge motivator.

Many classes have diagrams, and it’s super helpful to draw these out so that you’re more likely to remember them and so you have easy access to them.

For people who are nonlinear thinkers (NOT me at all, but I know some people are nonlinear thinkers), you can write your notes in any way you see fit - a circle, a mind map, a graph, even a dodecahedron if you so desire.

And there are tons of others I don’t have time to thoroughly explain!

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with typing notes if you feel that that works better for you. I have to do that for some classes (Geology, I’m looking at you), and I don’t prefer to type my notes, but some people find that they prefer it, and that’s totally okay! There are a few quick things to keep in mind if you choose to take typed notes, however:

I find it very helpful to keep a notepad near me so that I can doodle (again for dissociation/anxiety/etc.) and so that I can draw diagrams if necessary. I’m not talented enough to create computer diagrams quickly, so I usually draw them by hand even if I’m typing my actual notes.

Put in the effort to make sure you aren’t distracted by other things on your laptop! Typing notes can be a great thing, but technology is very quick to distract people. One method I find good for me is to make my notes full screen so that it’s harder to find things to get distracted by, but there are many methods for this.

Try to keep your typed notes tidy and organized. For me, this includes having consistent tab distances, changing font colors/styles (by styles I mean bold/italic/etc.) as necessary, and most of all splitting up my notes into documents by days or topics. I use Evernote, so it’s pretty straightforward to split them up, but even if you use another system, it’s wise to figure out a way to do so. Having one long document for the entire semester is not wise because it gets very overwhelming very quickly and is just plain hard to use.

The biggest help for me, however, is after I’ve taken my notes. I use Evernote to digitize my notes. It’s super easy to do (just take a picture in the app and it scans them like a PDF), and I find that having them digital is a huge help. It means a few things for me:

I don’t have to have every notebook with me to study - just the ones I need to take notes in. This is far more related to physical health for me because I just can’t carry that many notebooks without a lot of pain, but it’s also great for people who are forgetful due to mental health issues. All you have to remember is your laptop or tablet (or really, even your phone), so it’s much easier to make sure you have everything.

I can write all over them when I’m studying without ruining the original notes. I am a big fan of scribbling all over notes (writing mnemonics, drawing diagrams, marking what I know and don’t know, etc.), but I dislike damaging my original notes. This allows me to study as messily as I want without ruining anything.

I can make multiple copies of them if I need to - one for the class I took the notes in and one for my exam revision session. This is very helpful for people who aren’t feeling well enough to rewrite or retype everything into another place when revising for an exam.

Here’s what some of my digitized notes from my operating systems class look like (please forgive my very messy drawing - OS is hard to draw sometimes):

General Studying

This section refers to studying, but not for exams. This includes things such as doing assignments, reading for classes, and other such things. The most important thing for my studying is Google Tasks! I keep all my important due dates in there, even down to the time. Here’s an example of what my Google Tasks looks like:

Apologies for the blacked-out spot - that reveals where I go to school! I use this for every single thing that has a hard due date. This makes sure that I never miss a due date no matter how forgetful I am because my list of due dates is on my cell phone! I also find it extremely rewarding to tick the box when I finish an assignment, and even something as simple as that is such a huge motivator for me.

However, this isn’t where I plan how to study for the week. I do that - you guessed it - on paper. I have a journal (which you’ll get to see in another post) where I keep a lot of important stuff - including weekly study plan spreads! That sounds super overwhelming, but they’re incredibly easy to make and very simple to maintain. I’ll show you (artful pen to hide my school name)!

Let me break this down for you really quickly:

I have my pages divided into four (one quadrant per day plus one for notes), which works pretty well for me - I never run out of space. This setup takes me less than five minutes to make each week, and I find it works very well for me.

I like to write what classes I have each day at the top of the day just so I don’t get too confused (and I highlight it if I have an exam), then underneath that, I list everything I have to do study-wise.

I make sure to break each big task (e.g. “Study for Geology Exam) into smaller, more manageable chunks (e.g. “Make Geology flashcards,” “Revise Ch. 6 Notes,” etc.) all on different days of the week. This helps make each task seem way less overwhelming and makes me feel better about starting each task.

As you can see, my due dates are NOT on this sheet - this is more of a Study To-Do List than a list of my due dates. I do make sure to keep this updated so that I don’t miss any due dates, however.

You’ll also notice that I don’t have all that much listed for each day. It’s incredibly hard to stay ahead of things with mental health issues (I get that - I really do), but I find that staying ahead genuinely helps my mental health. If I have something to do every day, I feel productive and thus more motivated. It also gives me more leeway if I have a day where I can’t do any more than the bare minimum - I’m already ahead of schedule so I don’t need to panic. My best method for staying ahead is just to buckle down and do it. It’s not a great tip, but it’s all I’ve got (I’m allowed to struggle too - I don’t have everything together perfectly!).

Now, let’s talk about how to tackle each thing on this list.

Readings! When I have to do readings, my preferred method of note-taking is simply writing down definitions of keywords. Most of what I cover in the reading will be covered in the lecture, so I’m not too worried about jotting down every detail. However, making sure to note key words helps keep my brain engaged so I am less likely to zone out/dissociate/etc. Additionally, I can go back to those keywords to make flashcards later on.

Assignments! There’s not a whole lot to say about this one - every assignment is so different that I can’t say much beyond “do your assignments thoroughly.” However, a tip I find helps me a lot is to fully read the assignment and create a game plan before I dive in. This makes the assignment way less overwhelming and gives you concrete stopping points if you need a break.

Studying! will have its own section right below this, do not fear.

Studying

Watch this quick video (which is at the bottom of the text for some unknown reason?) of me scrolling through a study session, then I’ll explain how I study and why it works for me!

Let me just list my Studying Steps (TM) for you and break them down:

About a week before: Write all the information in a clear, consistent way.

By this I mean: Go through your notes/the slides/the textbook/anything with information and write it down freshly. I prefer (like usual) to handwrite this, but it can certainly be typed.

This is good because it requires you to reread and rewrite every piece of information, so you’re that much more likely to remember it. It also gives you all the information consolidated in one place. I like to split this up by topic (for me, each topic takes about 30 minutes to do) so that it’s more manageable.

This seems like a lot, and it is. But, you have to study and there’s no way around that, unfortunately. Try motivating yourself with small rewards (like food, stickers, or something fun) when you finish a topic.

When you finish that: Make charts and graphs for anything that requires charts and graphs.

The diagrams part is pretty self-explanatory. If you have diagrams, redraw them on their own sheet. This makes them less cluttered and you can write things like mnemonics on them without messing up anything else. Redrawing them is also great for muscle memory!

I also like to make charts of things that I need to memorize (this is a good tool, but isn’t always right for every subject). For example, if I need to know a lot of types of rocks, I’ll make charts listing each rock and its characteristics. This way it’s easier to find the information and (once again) muscle memory will help you out.

This can be done pretty quickly, and it’s a pretty brainless activity. It’s not hard to do, so you can do it while watching Netflix if you want to. I honestly enjoy this part, though, because I find drawing charts and graphs very satisfying.

About 3 days before: Make flashcards and study them consistently.

This is very important!

I like to use paper flashcards (just so I have to write the information once again), but digital ones work fairly well too.

Memorization is actually a fantastic tool to help with studying with mental health issues. Sometimes brain fogginess makes it hard to think of things that you know, but couldn’t recite. However, if you have it fully memorized, it’s generally much easier to pull out of the depths of your mind.

Once again, this is pretty easy to do (not quick though, sorry), and can be done while you’re doing something else more fun.

The day before: Go through your notes, annotate what you don’t know, and rewrite it until you know it.

This is the most important part of studying for me.

The evening before the exam, I go through every bit of my notes, charts, graphs, etc. and highlight what I 100% know.

Then, I take more paper (or often a digital piece of paper) and write out what I know, trying to focus my energy on finding ways to remember the information such as mnemonics, word associations, or the like.

I do this as many times as I need to until I feel good about how much information I have highlighted - I try to get to 85-90%, but that can vary by subject.

This is kind of tedious, but I find it easier to motivate myself since it is the final stretch. I’m also usually kind of stressed out about the exam by this point, so that works as a good motivator too.

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#studyblr #cptsd #depression #anxiety #mental health #mental illness #studying

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knittedkikwi · 4 years

Text

Ironsworn update

Ok, this one’s kinda long. I keep trying to have an adventure where Mira doesn’t need to fight, but I just roll SO BAD! I got 2 or 3 complication rolls this time around. I’m honestly surprised she was able to finish the vow. But ended with an opportunity, so now she has an entourage for the next couple of days! Story is below the cut. Summary down below.

Summary: Mira dissects a vine. Realizes she’s seen this magic before. Loses her way then loses her owl. Has weird dreams that tell the past (I wasn’t sure how to fulfill the price of an alliance is revealed when she’s by herself in the woods, so prophetic dreams it is). Runs into the guy who took her owl and beat the shit out of him. Killed the vines, turned the bad guy over to the town, got an escort to her next stop.

Where were those vines coming from?! Mira kept seeing them randomly sprouting from the forest floor, but she couldn’t find a source. She’d certainly never seen them while she was living here. What could they be?

Mira found a decently large vine and kneeled down to take a closer look. The vine itself was maybe 3 inches thick with a tough, mud colored outer shell. While the skin of the vine might have been smooth, here were dark bristles covering it. Mira pulled out the axe she’d gotten from the bandit and used it to barely sweep across the bristles. She could see some sort of spore fly off into the air. Anywhere on the axe it touched immediately started to rust. Mira then cut off a chunk of vines. Using the head of the axe, she maneuvered it into a position that let her see the inside of the vine. She’s not sure what she was looking for, but what she found was a perfectly normal bit of ivy. The shell turned out to be half an inch thick. The rest seemed to be more of those bristles growing out of what seemed to be your everyday, run of the mill ivy.

“I guess that explains why it climbs buildings, but I’ve never seen ivy do this.” Mira looked at Gabriel, face scrunched up in a look of confusion. For his part, Gabriel’s head twisted 90 degrees, like an exaggerated version of a dog confused by a sound. “It’s like something twisted them. Corrupted them.”

Mira looked at the bandit axe and realized the rust was spreading. She quickly tried wiping the axe down with leaves and was pleased to see that the rusting stopped. The axe still looked fairly solid. A bit of vinegar would probably get it back to good condition.

Mira glanced back to the vine in time to see the section growing out of the ground send out tendrils to close the gap between it and the rest of the vine. She watched with fascination as the tendrils formed that smooth shell. No bristles, but Mira didn’t doubt that those would appear soon. Was the other piece doing that? She looked to the side, afraid that she just sprouted another vine. Fortunately, she didn’t see any tendrils. Instead, she watched as the corrupted parts of it started to rapidly decay. In a matter of minutes, the ivy was the only thing remaining.

“It went back to normal,” she said, “like the gaunts…..THAT FUCKING MYSTIC!!!!”

Gabriel fluttered to a higher branch in surprise.

“It’s exactly like the gaunts! Something from nature being twisted and used against Ironlanders. Maybe the gaunts weren’t done yet and that’s why they went back to normal? Either way, there’s got to be something still powering this, or else the vines wouldn’t still be here. If we keep following them, we’re bound to find it.”

“Screech!” Gabriel landed back on Mira’s shoulder and looked further into the forest, in the direction of more vines. Mira started walking.

She followed the vines for hours. They slowly started to thin out, until eventually only one vine continued into the forest. However, her luck ended with the vine. She found the origin point, but saw nothing different from any of the other vines.

“Gabriel, let’s split up. There has to be something. A main plant? Or maybe a cave leading down to the roots? You check from the air and I’ll search down here. Meet up in 10 minutes?”

The owl gave a small hiss of agreement and soared off to the right. Mira started walking increasing semicircles around the vine. It had to be connected to something. If she could kill that, she could hopefully make all the vines wither away. Ten minutes of searching revealed nothing, though. She walked back to where she was supposed to meet Gabriel and sat down to wait. And wait. And wait.

Mira was getting nervous. The sun was starting to set and she wasn’t used to being alone at night. Admittedly, Gabriel wasn’t great at tracking time, considering he was an owl, but he didn’t usually stay away for this long. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see in the dark. It would be far easier for him to find her than the other way around. Maybe a fire would help him find her?

She started clearing a space and finding stones to ring in a fire. Fortunately, the almost ever-present rain of the Deep Wilds seemed to have taken a few nights. She managed to somehow find some sticks that were relatively dry and got a small, albeit smoky, fire going. Surely Gabriel would find her during the night. Mira prayed that Ferrous would guide him back to her, before falling into a fitful sleep.

*********

Her dreams were odd that night. She dreamt that she was back in Black Hall, but there were no vines. The village bustled with people, seeming very much like Grimtree. Mira walked to the edge of town closest to the forest. It felt like something was pulling her into the trees. She wandered deep into the woods, until she heard voices.

“The cave’s over here.” said a voice. It sounded like a young man, vaguely familiar.

“Excellent. This will work nicely.” This man sounded older. Mira found herself reaching for her axe, before realizing that it wasn’t there. She continued forward until she found a small passage in a pile of large boulders, leading down into an underground cavern.

“You promise this will work?” There! She saw two silhouettes in front of her, outlined by the light of a torch. One rough 6 feet tall, the other about 6 inches shorter with wild looking hair.

The shorter man was running his hand along the wall as they walked. They reached an area where the tunnel widened slightly. Mira watched the shorter man stop with his hand on a crack in the wall. She could see some small mushrooms growing from it. The taller of the pair stopped and turned around, letting Mira finally see the pair in the light. She recognized both of them.

“Yes, Hirsham, this will work.” The shorter man, covered in familiar tattoos, pulled the mushrooms free, causing a small amount of dirt to fall to the floor. He pulled something from a pouch and pressed it into the crack. “Place your hand on mine.”

Hirsham slowly reached out with his right hand. He seemed nervous about whatever this mystic was doing, but Mira could also see a hungry gleam in his eyes. “This will ruin those bastards’ farms?”

“Yes, it will ruin their farms. You’ll get to be the hero. The only one able to leave. Now quiet, I need to focus.” The mystic started to mutter under his breath. Ever so slowly, ivy started to creep around their hands and into the crack to the earth beyond.

********

Mira’s eyes snapped open. The world was gray around her, caught in that predawn moment after the night creatures settled down to sleep but before the rest of the world awoke. The small fire from the night was completely cold, burned out hours ago. She looked around, expecting to see Gabriel perched on her pack or in a nearby tree. But she was alone.

Mira stood, trying to get a better look, hoping to find some sign of her friend. She grabbed her bag, kicked some dirt on the fire for good measure, and started walking. She hoped he’d settle down and wait for her now that it was almost day. She walked maybe five minutes before coming across a small, haphazard pile of boulders. Her dream came back to her in a rush. She’d seen the boulders yesterday, but hadn’t noticed a passage. This time she knew what she was looking for. She cleared the leaves from the center of the formation, revealing a slope leading down into the earth.

“That motherfucker! He helped the mystic ruin his own town!” Mira was angry. How could he?! Those people were just trying to survive and he sold them out to that weird old man.

“Technically, I guess I did. But they had it coming.” Mira whirled around to see Hirsham walk around a tree. He had a burlap sack in his left hand, which was making a familiar hissing sound. “They really should have been nicer to those less fortunate than them.”

Mira’s eyes narrowed at the site of the bag. “They were mean to you? So you decided to burn their livelihoods. I don’t understand.”

“They weren’t just mean, they treated me like dirt!” Hirsham started circling around Mira, eyes full of rage. “All my life, I was the kid no one wanted. Forced to steal because no one would help me. Then punished because I did what I had to in order to survive. Then Kataka came into town. Said he could tear them down and lift me up at the same time. I just needed to help him find somewhere to plant something.”

“My dream WAS true.” Mira whispered to herself, eyes darting in confusion. She managed to refocus on Hirsham after a moment. “I don’t care how they treated you, this was too far. Betraying your town so you could pretend to be important. How many people actually managed to get out before you became the only person able to escape the vines?”

Hirsham smirked, “Maybe a third. The rest are huddling in their houses, completely dependent on me for food, firewood, everything. They take what I give them, and they’re happy about it! They think I’m helping them out of the kindness of my heart. You don’t understand the power I have right now! And you’re threatening to take that away.” Hirsham tossed the sack to the side with a thud that made Mira’s stomach turn. He reached behind his back and pulled out two hatchets. “I really can’t let you finish what you’re trying to do.”

Mira saw red and pulled out her own axe. She didn’t even respond before rushing at him. He was too fast for her though. He ducked out of the way, tripping her as she ran. Mira went sprawling and almost slid face first into a vine she hadn’t noticed poking out of the ground. She grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it towards Hirsham as she tried to stand. He brought his hand up in time to protect his eyes, but it at least gave her time to stand up again.

Hirsham lunged at her with his axes dancing in a pattern that would have been mesmerizing if he wasn’t trying to kill her. Mira pulled her shield off her back and moved in to meet him. They clashed back and forth for a few moments until Mira was able to knock away one of his hatchets. She took advantage of the opening and swung hard with her axe. He leapt towards his axe with incredible speed. For a moment, she thought Hirsham had managed to dodge her completely, until she realized he was holding his side. She saw a small trickle of blood leak through his tunic. Her satisfaction lasted only a moment as she realized an axe was flying at her face. She dove to the side and raised her shield over her. Hirsham was stalking towards her slowly though, like a wolf who’s prey was caught in a trap.

Mira took a moment to breathe, before realizing her wrist was starting to burn. She looked down and realized her axe arm had landed on a vine that she swore was not there earlier. Shoving down the panic welling in her, Mira quickly grabbed some dirt and rubbed at her arm where it was starting to blister and turn black. Unfortunately, Hirsham was running towards her again. Mira pushed herself into a squat and then lunged for his legs. He tried to jump over her, but she twisted at the last second and brought her shield up into his stomach. He landed on his back, near one of the vines. Mira watched as he stretched out a hand towards it and the vine started to stretch and move in his direction. His hand moved slowly in her direction, but Mira brought her axe down on his wrist before the vine could follow. Hirsham screamed.

“You’re able to control them?” Mira asked. “How?”

Hirsham shuffled backwards, trying to get away from Mira. He threw his remaining hatchet at her, which she easily knocked out of the way with her shield. She stalked up to him and brought the flat of her axe down on his ribs with a satisfying snap. Several, actually.

“How?!” She yelled. He continued trying to crawl backwards, slowly. Mira swung again, this time breaking his other arm.

Hirsham curled in on himself with a soft sob. “It’s part of the ritual! Kataka said since I participated I would be able to control them! It’s how I can leave the city.” He tried to cradle his bleeding arm to his chest, only to wince as it came in contact with his broken ribs.

“Ugh, you’re useless.” Mira said, as she rummaged around in her bag. After a moment, she managed to pull out the rope she had bought as part of her tent. She supposed now it technically was the tent, considering it was the only part left. For now, though, it would work nicely to keep Hirsham from running away. She took a moment to tie up is legs and bind his remaining hand to his ankles, eliciting several gasps of pain in the process.

When she was satisfied he wouldn’t be able to escape, she ran to the bag and opened it. Gabriel peered out at her blearily. He gave a small hiss of annoyance as she pulled him out checked him over for injuries. He seemed fairly sound, excepting a small bump on his head that she hoped would go away soon.

Mira planted a kiss on top of his head and said, “I’m so glad you’re ok! Would you be willing to watch him while I got get whatever…Kataka planted down there?”

“Screech!”

“Yes, you can sit on him if you want. Just try not to shred him too much. I think the villagers might want to speak with him.” Mira walked over to Hirsham. His eyes grew wide at the sight of talons as she plopped the owl on his head.

Mira walked back to the entrance to the cave, taking a moment to light a torch. She followed the path, which was exactly the same as from her dream. She walked quickly, until she reached the small room where she’d watched Kataka plant the seed. It had grown to roughly the size of her head now, with dozens of small vines sprouting from it and disappearing into the earth.

Mira arranged a couple of larger rocks together to make a holder for her torch. She then pulled out the bandit axe and started to work severing all of the vines growing from the seed. It took a few minutes work, and resulted in a solid layer of rust on the axe head, but she was finally able to detach the seed from the wall. Small shoots tried to grow from the seed towards the rest of the vines. Mira retrieved her torch from its makeshift sconce and used it to set fire to the seed. It lit quickly and burned with no smoke, which surprised Mira more than anything. After a minute, all that remained was ashes and a small, black seed, no bigger than the head of a nail. She flipped the axe around and poked the seed with the handle. Mira was relieved to see that nothing happened to the handle. No rot started, no new vines sprouted. Mira let out a small sigh and then gently picked up the seed and placed it in a small pouch before putting it in her bag.

She then headed back out to gather Gabriel and her prisoner. Gabriel had refrained from using his talons to tear up Hirsham’s scalp, but he hadn’t refrained from holding on tightly. She could see small streaks of red running down from where is toes connected with Hirsham’s head.

Suppressing a small smile, Mira undid the ropes binding Hirsham and gently pulled him to his feet. He let out a soft sob, but followed her without complaint. They walked back to town, Gabriel refusing to move from Hirsham’s head the entire way. Mira was gratified to see the vines dying, the outer shells falling away in flakes to leave only plain ivy. By the time they made it back to town, the sun was heading towards setting and most of the vine wall had collapsed. The other plant life that was being corrupted by it either dying or showing signs of returning to normal.

Mira marched Hirsham into the town square, looking around for any of the thugs she’d met the other day. “People of Black Hall!” she called, “I have stopped the vines that were destroying your town. One of your own had partnered with a rogue mystic to bring this blight upon you.”

Hirsham’s men had appeared from the shadows as soon as Mira started speaking. Others followed as she continued. “I killed that mystic for trying to do something similar to my town. But I leave the judgement of Hirsham to you. The man is a coward who preferred to hurt you and control you than talk with you.” Mira scanned the faces of the villagers. She saw shock, anger, and confusion throughout the crowd. The men who had stood with him before refused to look at her. “Now, he said you slighted him first. I suggest you all sit down and try to figure how what led to this in the first place. Maybe you can avoid this from happening in the future. For now, will you hold my oath fulfilled?”

A man shuffled forward, wizened with age and lean from hunger. His voice was surprisingly strong when he spoke, though. “Yes, we hold your oath fulfilled. Thank you, for freeing us from the vines. And our own foolishness, it seems. How may we repay you? We have no money or food, but we may be able to offer you something else.”

Mira gave him a smile. “I’m making my way to Longmark and then on to Baku. But you do not owe me anything. I’m sure that Hirsham will uphold his part of our deal, after all.”

The man nodded. “Perhaps, then, we could escort you part of the way. Now that the vines are dying, we’re free to leave. We’ll need to get supplies if we’re to restart our lives here. We can travel with you to Stonehom. It’s a couple days down the river road, which will give us some time to talk.”

The man had a strange look in his eye as he made this offer. Mira sensed that he might know more about Longmark or Baku than the average villager. “Thank you, sir. I would be glad of the company.” And she wanted to know what that look was about.

#ironsworn #rpg #one day she'll roll well #i hope

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amairawrites · 5 years

Note

⭐

I know most people who follow my tumblr came here because they read To Be Vulnerable.

So I’m going to talk about the story behind Fragile! You can go read it here.

It’s my least-read fic on AO3, currently the newest posted (I’m not counting chapter updates on TBV). But the abandoned WIP it came from is the oldest fic I wrote in the VLD fandom. Fragile was one of the early sections the fic, chronologically.

Stand By Me was always an ambitious project that I was never really going to finish – a full series rewrite, from the perspectives of Pidge and Shiro, completely abandoning the idea that this was ever supposed to be a child-appropriate show and diving straight into the very real effects of war on teenagers and young adults.

I, uh… clearly don’t do cutesy fluffy stories?

So, the basics: very slowburn eventual Keith/Pidge ship, left off at 36k words (some of which had been color-coded gray to mark it as no longer what I wanted), probably rated M or E for vaguely described awkward teenagers having their first time together and references to rubbing one out, and a whole lot of violence.

I adapted small bits of the show adapted to meet the tone or plot twists I had been planning. For example, when Ulaz first infiltrates the castle and flings Pidge across the hall, she collides with Keith, who cushions her fall, then gets back up to attack. In Stand By Me, he stays by her side and instead assumes a defensive pose over her to protect her.

A lot of it was working the song Stand By Me into the story as a thematic element as well as a way for the paladins to bond. Originally, Shiro sings it to Pidge when she’s stressed and upset and missing her family. Later, after he disappears, she finds Keith sitting in the observation deck (Did the castleship have one in the show? Who cares! You can do anything in fanfics!) singing the song to himself, and joins in.

I also jumped on the idea of the paladin bonds extending beyond paladin-lion to allow the paladins to connect to each other. It varied between characters, but the general idea covered sensing basic thoughts and emotions, as well as physical proximity and well-being.

Oh, and that everyone’s bayards could change shape with enough focus and a strong enough bond with their lion etc.

Ultimately, it shaped up to be a far more violent, raw, and emotional story than VLD was. I dropped it because I couldn’t figure out a satisfying ending after the major climax. I also decided a lot of what I had written earlier didn’t fit with what I was aiming for later, and that was a problem when I basically jumped around from start to finish and left huge gaps of plot development untouched. Then a lost of the plot points I was running with felt unsatisfying or downright bad, and then….

Yeah. I’m also a better writer now than I was when I started writing it.

And, if you’re still curious, I’m sharing another snippet of Stand By Me behind the cut. Feel free to message me with more questions about it, too!

Warnings for graphic violence in the first scene, and extremely mild sexual content between teenagers in the following scene.

Context: When Lotor’s crew encounters the paladins in the fanfic timeline’s equivalent to early s3 (Shiro is missing), it gets very violent very quickly. This is at the end of their third encounter, where Lotor is actually trying to kill them.

*****

“Keith! NO!” Pidge screams, spinning towards him.

His skin is split up the side, and she can’t tell where his blood ends and the red accents on his armor begin. The same red splatters up the blade of Lotor’s sword.

Time seems to slow as her bayard crackles to life. Lotor raises his arm for a finishing strike.

Lotor is a skilled, accomplished warrior. He could easily defeat opponents twice his size, one-handed and blindfolded. He has sent Pidge flying across hallways without any effort. In his eyes, she is not, and never has been, any threat to him.

Which is probably why, when Pidge lets out a feral screech and sprints at him, he barely gives her a second look, a flick of his sword.

A flick that somehow positions it perfectly for her to disarm him.

Keith meets her eyes and mouths some kind of protest.

She’s sure her mind has gone offline. Her body moves of its own accord. Distantly, she’s aware that the other Paladins are charging in behind her, and she knows they’re there, but they might as well be figments of her imagination, shades of reality that don’t matter. All sound is muffled, all thought ceases. She can’t do anything other than keep her eyes locked with Keith’s. She can’t hear anything other than his desperate, shaky breaths.

She can’t lose him, too.

The grappling hook of her bayard wraps around the blade and her hand yanks it back. Her head turns for a brief moment to track it as it skitters across the floor, as she crouches, scoops it up, and swings it upwards.

Through Lotor’s right thigh, opening his abdomen, and ending at a bone in his left shoulder.

His face is the textbook picture of shock, of surprise, mouth drawn open in a silent gasp, eyes wide, eyebrows arched, as though it was frozen in that position long before his own sword broke his skin.

Blood, purplish and hot, erupts out of his chest in spurts. Pidge relaxes her arm, nearly vomiting at the soft squelch his wound makes as she lets the sword drop.

Sound is back. Time is back. Everything is loud and fast and overwhelming and she’s going to be sick.

And Lotor falls forward, collapses onto her, leaks on her. Someone is shrieking, screaming, crying, and she doesn’t even realize it’s her until Hunk pulls the dying prince off and drops him to the floor. There are entrails on her thighs, and some sick part of her mind actually pauses to wonder if Galrans or Alteans have digestive systems configured like humans’ and maybe those are intestines?

Then, as if it’s not enough already, Lotor actually gurgles his final breaths, and Pidge tastes bile and acid in her throat, feels it in her nose, and – oh, she’s actually vomiting now.

She yanks her helmet off and scrambles over toward Keith, only for Hunk to grab her around the waist and pin her to his side.

“Hunk, let me go! Let me go! I have to – have to get to Keith. I have to protect Keith,” she half-sobs, her voice shrill and pinched. None of her kicks or punches have any effect, and his grip is starting to hurt even as his voice soothes, and she has no fight left in her anyway.

“It’s okay, Pidge. You already protected him. Lance and Allura got him, and he’s going to be okay.”

******

Lotor grins viciously at her, yellow eyes crinkling with joy at his handiwork.

Keith is dead.

He’s dead, and it’s her fault that she couldn’t stop Lotor in time. She cries out, lunges for him, but nothing she does can touch him. He’s too fast, too strong.

The walls start to curve and droop inwards and he just laughs over her.

Purple blood splatters out his chest.

Lotor hisses her name, her failure.

But it’s not Lotor anymore – it’s Shiro, and he’s dying on her bayard, and she’s killed him, she’s killed him, she’s a murderer.

“How could you?” he asks. Purple blood streams out of his mouth and lands on her face, and the droplets start to spread, consuming and erasing everything in their path.

He’s disintegrating outwards from his chest, and screaming at her, and she’s screaming at herself. The blood on her face is dripping onto her hands, staining them red and purple, and her skin turns black and dead.

He glares at her as she begs for him to stay, and she tries to claw at his shoulders but her hands are nothing more than bone now, and she can’t move. Then she can’t speak.

She can only watch as he vanishes, only listen as he tells her how she’s fallen, how she’s a monster, how she has failed.

Then she can’t hear, can’t feel, can’t…

“Pidge! Pidge! It’s just a dream!”

She lurches forward, gasping and coughing.

She’s in her bed, in someone’s arms. Arms that are rubbing up and down her back.

“It’s just a dream, Pidge,” Keith murmurs into her hair.

She bursts into tears at his voice, and he hugs her tight.

He’s alive. He’s here, done with his time in the healing pod, looking good as new. She doesn’t know how long she clings to his jacket, but he doesn’t complain.

“I… I was too late, and Lotor killed you,” she eventually chokes out, and he holds her tighter. “And… and then when I killed Lotor, it was actually Shiro.”

Saying it out loud brings on another burst of tears, and a third arm around her shoulders.

She whips around, at least as much as she can with Keith still squeezing her. The other three Paladins are in the room as well. Lance is next to her, his face the very portrait of brotherly concern, Hunk and Allura flanking him.

Right. Lance has sisters. He knows the sound of nightmare screams.

The smile on Allura’s lips is meant to be reassuring, but the concern creasing her brows ruins the effect and just makes her look bewildered. The waver in her voice doesn’t help either. “We came to let you know Keith was awake, but…”

The silence stretches into awkwardness, until Lance slides in behind her, all splayed limbs and smug smiles.

“We figured you’d get more use out of the handsomest pillow in the galaxy.”

Pidge giggles, despite herself, and Keith reaches past her to grab her pillow and whack Lance square in the face with it, finally smiling at his muffled “Hey!”

“Pidge,” Allura begins again, “will you be alright?”

Lance’s arms stretch out to her, his smile dropping from smug into sweet, and Pidge scoots up to him, letting him fold her in his embrace.

“I got you, Pidgita,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and it’s almost like having Matt here, and the tears well up again.

Keith snuggles up on her other side, and it’s almost like having Shiro there, and she finally cracks out, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Well, the beds weren’t designed to fit five Paladins, but…” Allura trails off, her tone all mischief. She and Hunk share a look before they both shrug and jump onto the bed anyway, to the immediate protests of the three under them. They crush their victims for a few ticks before Hunk peels off the pile and starts pushing the mess on the floor toward the walls.

“I’ll just go grab my mattress, then.”

It takes a few moments for his words to register, what with the distraction of Lance’s fingers combing her hair.

“Wait, really?”

He shrugs again, as if it’s obvious. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re already settled in, and Allura and I won’t fit on your bed too.”

They take up their vigil on the floor, mattress framed by all Pidge’s tech clutter, and she wants to thank them all for being so supportive, but the words that exit her mouth are, “You know, Lance, you’d have much better luck with the ladies if you were sweet like this rather than trying to be suave.”

“See if I come comfort you next time you have a nightmare,” he says with an exaggerated pout, but pulls her closer anyway.

Objectively, the pile on her bed can’t be comfortable for anyone except maybe Keith, who is curled up with his head resting on her chest. But the security everyone seems to get from each other, judging by their contented sighs as they settle in to sleep, overrides any anticipated aches and pains.

******

Pidge drifts into consciousness somewhere in the late morning. Her room is still dim, and silent aside from the soft sighs Keith makes as he sleeps next to her. At some point, the others must have returned to their own rooms, or got up to go about their day.

Slowly, she eases out of bed, careful not to wake him, and pads over to her bathroom. Her eyes burn and her face feels sticky and gross and the rest of her body has that odd sweat funk, and nothing sounds as good as a nice, hot shower.

She had taken it for granted, when she first got here, that there were giant showers in all the rooms and they used regular hot water. Over time, after eating nothing but goo for weeks on end and drinking what smells like moldy hot dog water entirely too often, she’s gained a new appreciation for the fact that Alteans don’t clean themselves with dust baths or wash in undiluted ammonia or something else equally unappealing.

However, not even the spray of water feels that great right now, as it stings against the previous night’s dried tears and sears into the raw skin of her cheeks.

Pidge blinks rapidly, but rather than clearing away the old tears, she only succeeds in bringing on a wave of new ones. A high, keening wail tears itself from her throat, bringing with it some kind of directionless grief.

Sliding down the wall of the shower, she hugs her knees to her chest and gasps, trying in vain not to cry.

“Pidge?” Keith, his voice still a sleepy rasp, pokes his head past the bathroom door. “Are you okay?”

She tries to answer, but only manages an unintelligible series of screeches and cries, her throat simultaneously weak and tight. A moment later, Keith’s face makes its appearance at the edge of the sliding shower door. She tucks her arms and legs closer around her.

“Hey, can I come in?”

This time, Pidge does manage to croak out a word. “Yeah.”

He leans in, hissing when the water strikes his shirt. “Fuck, that stings. Ugh. Give me a second.”

Pidge nods, and watches mutely as he pulls his shirt and jeans off, movements stiff and slow, far from his usual fluid grace. Now he’s just as naked as she is, and her eyes track to the jagged red scar tracing a line from his right thigh to his right armpit.

Raising an eyebrow, Keith sits across from her, angling his body so none of the water sprays directly onto the new skin, pulling his left leg in to hide behind. “Like what you see?”

Her face flushes, and she’s sure it’s just as pink as his scar is red. “Does it hurt?” She reaches towards his waist, before catching herself, flushing even deeper and snapping her hand back to her lap. “Sorry. I mean, I know it can’t feel that great, even with the healing pods, and… sorry. I should have been quicker to stop him.”

Keith scoots closer, grabs her hand, and pulls it to his chest. Neither of them breathe as he drags her fingertips down the line, to his ribs and waist and pelvis and thigh. His skin is so soft, taut against the muscle underneath it, and her blush probably covers every inch of her body now.

“It’s a little raw, and aches like a bruise,” he suddenly answers, making her jump and twitch back. His lips quirk up into a smirk and he twines his hand with hers. “Thank you, Pidge.”

“It’s Katie,” she blurts out. His eyebrow arches again. Shit, she’s blushing even harder now. “My real name is Katie.”

“I gathered, but….”

Her mouth works faster than her brain, and every word makes her want to die of embarrassment. “I mean, we’re sitting here in the shower, completely naked. It doesn’t really make sense if you don’t know my real name.”

“Sure, Katie,” he answers, smiling. “I already knew.”

“Oh.”

They keep their eyes locked on each other’s face as much as possible, occasionally dropping their stare downward, until it’s too much for Pidge, and she uncurls and flings her arms and legs out.

“Look! Just look! Holy shit, just get it over with!”

His eyes go wide and jaw falls slack. He bypasses pink entirely, instantly flushing a deep red all the way down to his sternum, even while his gaze roves over every inch of her. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he looks away.

“Well?” she demands.

“You’re… very pretty, Pidge,” he murmurs, hunching his shoulders up.

She giggles, hating the sound, but she can’t fight the grin on her face. She pulls her limbs back, sitting in a normal cross-legged position, and rakes her wet hair away from her face. Keith is still red all over, hunching so far that his face is half hidden behind his left leg.

Pidge looks him up and down. “Your turn?”

“Nooo, no please.”

“You’ll have to stand up eventually, you know.”

He doesn’t respond, only pulling his legs closer and folding them in front of his – oh. Ohhhh.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Keith.”

He grumbles some garbled string of words she can’t quite pick up on over the sound of the shower.

“Besides,” she continues with a grin and a nod towards his crotch, “he’s got good taste.”

“Oh my god.” Keith draws his arms around his knees and hides his face entirely. His blush spreads to his elbows.

She sighs. “At least move over so I can take my shower.”

“I – you know, fine. Here, look.”

He stands, slowly, his right side stiff and tense, and holds his arms out, turning in a circle for her.

He’s all muscle, lean and slim and dangerous. The defined V of the middle of his back is mirrored at the bottom of his abs. A small patch of fine hair trails down the middle of his chest, picking up again just below his navel and down to his crotch. The spray from the shower splashes off his shoulders and back as he stops and drops his arms, framing him with an ethereal mist. His hair is plastered to his face and neck, his mouth pressed into a line as he waits for her to speak.

Her eyes drift from head to toe and back.

He is gorgeous. How has she never noticed before now?

“Wow,” Pidge breathes, then immediately wants to smack herself for sounding like some dazed airhead – and feeling like one, too. She rises to her feet and sweeps his hair away from his forehead. “To answer your earlier question, yes, I like what I see.”

Keith half-gurgles, half-whines, hiding his face in his left hand, as his right goes to shield his groin. He and Pidge both let out nervous giggles. She slides by him, blushing so hard her head spins as her bare thigh brushes against his.

“Pidge!” he squeaks.

“Sorry, sorry. Here,” she grumbles, leaning out of the shower and grabbing an extra washcloth, “you can use my stuff.”

They retreat to opposite ends of the shower, facing away from each other, and hastily clean themselves.

“Hey Pidge? Can you get my shoulder? I can’t quite reach it.”

She turns back around, and before she can oblige, her eye catches on a series of small, puckered scars next to his left hipbone. Because curiosity has been known to override all her other senses, including common sense, she reaches out and brushes her fingers over them.

Keith freezes.

Slowly, his hand peels hers off of his hip. No other part of him moves.

He’s trembling.

“Keith?” Pidge lifts her eyes to his, only to be met with the most fearful expression she’s ever seen. “What happened?”

After a few deep breaths, he lets out a shuddering sigh and droops slightly, looking so ashamed that Pidge has to wonder if they’re self-inflicted. Or maybe he ran with a bad crowd, or –

“Cigarette burns from my foster mom, when she was drunk. My… fourth or fifth home, I think. The last home.”

Her mind short-circuits and her eyes jerk back to the scars. There are at least a dozen, some larger than others. She pulls her hand free from his and places her palm over the marred skin, holding steady even though he shivers and flinches away. She doesn’t miss his sharp gasp when she places her other hand on his right hip.

He’s so tightly wound, so rigid and scared, and she wracks her brain for the right words, coming up empty.

“There’s nothing I can say to make it better, is there,” she finally sighs.

Keith’s eyebrows raise slightly.

Pidge curls her fingers into his hips and mutters, “I suppose she’s lucky I’m not on Earth, because I might just kill her for hurting you.”

His eyebrows raise straight to his hairline.

“Shiro almost did.”

“What?”

“I mean, he didn’t, but he was so angry. He somehow got custody of me instead, even though he’s not an actual foster parent, and he was going to officially help emancipate me after he got back from Kerberos, but…”

She takes a step closer to him, and he draws her into a loose hug, as little of their bare skin touching as possible for it to still count as an embrace.

He brushes his hand along her left shoulder. “What’s this?”

Pidge knows what exactly he’s looking at without having to ask for clarification, the circle of odd spots that aren’t freckles but dust her skin like them. “Bullies in middle school. They thought it would be funny to stick the nerd with a bunch of mechanical pencils.”

She feels rather than hears his growl.

Then Keith dips his head down and presses his mouth to those little scars and her brain short-circuits for an entirely new reason. Her hands grip his hips even tighter, keeping him in place as she twists forward to tuck her head against his collarbone. The breathy sigh that earns her, hot against her neck, sends a rush of adrenaline straight to her chest.

Which means it’s the perfect time for her door’s comm to buzz. They jolt apart as though zapped.

“Pidge, it’s Allura. I wanted to see if you and Keith are awake yet,” comes the muffled voice from her bedroom comm speaker.

She quickly holds a finger to her lips and Keith nods. “Redirect comms to bathroom,” she states, turning to face the shower door, and a speaker next to it chimes in response. “Hey Allura, I’m just showering. We’ll be out soon.”

“Oh! Sorry, Pidge. Take your time. Is Keith alright?”

“Will do, thanks. He’s doing well, just a bit stiff.”

Keith chokes behind her, and she has to stifle her own laughter as she realizes the other way that answer could be interpreted.

Fortunately, Allura is oblivious to Earth slang. “I should have figured. He had quite a bit of damage to the underlying muscles. Even with the sleeping pod, it’ll take some time for them to be back to normal. Well, when you’re done, we have some data from Lotor’s ship that needs analysis.”

“I’ll be right on it. See you in a bit.” She waits a moment, then, “Reset comms to bedroom.”

After a beat, Pidge half-turns and very, very openly checks out Keith. “Just a bit stiff.”

“Oh my god, Pidge,” he groans.

She bursts into laughter, nearly cackling, as she quickly scrubs his shoulder. “I’m going to go dry off your shirt, and you can take your time finishing up.”

“Take my… what?”

Her eyes flick down again. “Just make sure it all gets down the drain.”

“Pidge!” Keith yelps, flushing bright red again.

She just grins and steps out of the shower.

Ten minutes later, after his shirt has been wrapped up in a towel and wrung enough that it’s only barely damp, Keith emerges from the bathroom.

“You’re terrible,” he says, scowling at her, wearing only a towel around his waist. He slightly purses his lips as he studies her sweatshirt. “That’s getting a bit worn out.”

“And too small,” Pidge grouses. “But I don’t have anything else.”

She towels off her hair, then does the same to Keith, and they quickly get dressed.

The look on Lance’s face as he sees them both exit her room together, hair equally damp, is so priceless that Pidge can’t help but start giggling again.

Keith just curses under his breath.

“Aw, don’t worry Keith,” she purrs, “I promise to do my level best not to think of it during our next group memory exercise.”

“Pidge!”

He’s bright red again, and looking more embarrassed than he was in the shower, but a ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

She can’t even remember why she had been so upset.

*****

#fragile #fanfic #WIP graveyard #Voltron legendary defender

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patchcreator · 3 years

Text

Signs of the Times

Quick growth is happening in these three locations of the indication, graphics and visual-communications sector. Are you considering jumping into the indication, BIKER VEST PATCHES, graphics as well as visual communications sector? Regardless of the evident all-natural linkups-- and also clients-- entering a new industry can bring big opportunities, along with substantial inquiries. Whether any one of these high-growth opportunities make sense for your firm's development is up to you. Nevertheless, you should realize your customers see these items being used-- even if they do not recognize what they're called-- as well as they might request for your input. Prior to purchasing the equipment to launch a new line, it's important to obtain as much information as feasible regarding these areas. Wide-Format Printing According to International Sign Association (ISA) study, wide-format printing is a growing market. A recent record, "Looking for BIG Opportunities in Graphic Communications and also Specialty Printing," shows that some 68% of study respondents suggested their wide-format print volumes were expanding. They additionally expect that growth to continue at regarding 31% each year. Survey participants additionally stated the greatest earnings came through printing banners, automobile graphics and also signs. In these 3 categories, over half of participants defined them as extremely lucrative. Yet wide-format printing additionally has obstacles. Nearly 80% of survey respondents suggested clients anticipate a faster turnaround on work in this niche, while print customers want to see the impact of campaigns and will certainly change prints a lot more regularly. Wide-format printing is a relatively new process that has grown rapidly considering that its inception. The initial wide-format inkjet printer was generated in the mid-1990s and also, from there, the field has actually expanded to larger media dimensions; the capacity to publish on various substratums; ink technologies, such as eco-solvent, ultraviolet (UV) and latex-based inks; and also the quick adoption and also renovation on the piezo-electric print head. The printing process is computer managed, with the photo being created on a computer system as well as developed into a digital documents. The data is then refined by a raster image cpu (SPLIT) for accurate output on the wanted media. If required, it then mosts likely to a laminator and also is used or installed to develop the final product. Wide-format printing generates full-color photos on media that goes to the very least 36 inches wide. Ink is discharged via numerous print heads-- each including numerous nozzles-- onto a substratum or media. These printers generally make use of piezo-inkjet heads, which function well with solvent-based, UV-cured or aqueous-based inks. The last stage prior to setup is finishing, that includes laminating. This protects prints, adds resilience and protects them from weathering. Laminates are available in a variety of coatings as well as structures, from matte as well as semi-gloss to gloss. Completing is a vital part of any print work, as the sort of finish will certainly impact overall price. Lamination can be hot or cold. The latter, which is one of the most preferred in our industry, is pressure delicate and also normally calls for time for the inks to outgas before the procedure starts. Warm lamination is taken into consideration an encapsulation technique and also is secured by the heat from the laminator's pressure rollers. Vehicle Wrapping as well as Vinyls Plastic wrapping-- for decorative or branding factors-- is a quickly expanding sector of the visual-communications sector. According to ISA's "Navigating the Visual Communications Space," 59% of wide-format printers touched this location as the fastest-growing segment of their company. While the methods of masterfully using a cover are important, material selection likewise plays an essential role. Selecting the appropriate covering material establishes durability, longevity and performance. One of one of the most essential variables for selecting the right product is determining the kinds of aspects with which the product likely will enter call to ensure that it can endure those conditions. Products include the kinds of movie utilized, adhesive and also processing/handling. There are 2 major sorts of plastic film made use of in the indication, graphics and also visual-communications industry: cast as well as calendered. The standard ingredients coincide in each product, yet the production process makes them various. Cast movie is the sector premium. It's thin, resilient and also extra versatile, enabling it to stretch quickly and comply with surface areas. When heat is used, there's much less contraction and it maintains its color. It is taken into consideration suitable for lasting applications, consisting of vehicle covers as well as fleet graphics. Calendered film is thicker and offers even more shrinking when subjected to warmth. However it's simpler to deal with and more economical. It's suitable for short- to medium-term applications, such as window and floor graphics, wall surface murals and signs. Adhesive systems primarily concentrate on the stamina required for removal from a substratum. They are identified based upon application (removable and also long-term) as well as make-up (water-based as well as solvent-based). Comprehending adhesive kinds is important for properly using them in any application. Recognizing the structure of the adhesive is equally as vital. There are 2 main types of sticky make-ups: water and solvent, with either being the weakening representative. Digital-Signage Systems There was confusion regarding what to call the digital-signage sector in its early days: place-based advertising, display networks, digital out-of-home, etc. With the industry's spreading as well as development, the interpretation currently is broad as well as extensively utilized. Digital signs is made use of to show various kinds of multimedia material in a variety of setups. Typically published theoretically, indicators convey all kinds of details: marketing, wayfinding, news and also even more. If paper is replaced by tv screens that are networked as well as online connected to a main web server while displaying electronic information, new creative and organization possibilities can arise. Benefits include content that can be targeted to the particular target markets, computer animated and also updated in real time. In addition, the web content's playback can be affected by points like artificial intelligence, other digital devices or data analytics. This is the significance of digital signage: interfering with standard paper signage to drive interaction. It all beginnings with 2 basic questions: What is the business or interactions possibility you've determined? What is the optimal end result of deploying the brand-new digital-signage network? If the answers aren't originally clear, develop consensus and also alignment prior to proceeding. These and also various other goals of a suggested network will give a framework for more efficient planning as well as a much easier release and also operational technique when they are agreed upon as well as effectively resourced, both with people and also capital. Objectives transform based upon the signs kind and overall web content method. Whether it's selling a lot more items, notifying visitors or educating employees, some goals could be very easy-- advertising everyday specials and also increasing sales, for instance. Such objectives are simple to track: Did sales of the promoted items boost? Others can be challenging to gauge, particularly when it includes simply involves informing a target market. For example, if your goal is to notify employees about an approaching health care meeting, measurement may not be needed. Just ensuring the statement visuals is published on time achieves the objective. Analytics devices can be as simple as tracking sales enhancements, or as facility as camera systems tracking the length of time audiences enjoy a display. There are two wide digital-signage categories: educational and advertising. Educational displays include electronic bulletin board system, menus, wayfinding, donor wall surfaces, occasion listings, traffic displays as well as news/weather/sports display screens. Marketing screens consist of digital posters and also billboards, video clip wall surfaces and also experiential/interactive displays. Understanding electronic signs can make a big distinction when picking modern technology like content-management software (CMS). Some CMS options may include tracking attributes, a vital consideration if the sign's key objective is advertising and marketing. Web content monitoring can produce repeat organization, but content is evolving with more facility, data-driven applications instead of straightforward slide shows. Content also is progressing, with programs and also audio-visual innovation offered that automates messaging as well as boosts importance. Programmers use information from different resources as well as anticipating analytics to make certain the message relates to the customer, area and also scenario. As an example, if weather data anticipates rainfall, umbrella ads can be instantly shown. The indication, graphics and also visual-communications sector is broadening right into plenty of new, high-growth avenues. If you intend to discover much more, the information is offered to help you make best use of these opportunities.

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marblesarelost · 6 years

Text

Change Your Mind, Change Your Life

CHAPTER TWO

A soft knock on her office door brought her back out of herself, and she looked up from her screen to the door. “Um. Come in?” Jane peeked around the door, her grin wide.

“I’M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!” She squealed, coming into the office, a wine bottle and two glasses in her other hand. “Oh my God, Darcy, this is amazing!”

“I know,” Darcy agreed, nodding excitedly. “Two seconds, Janey, let me save this, okay?” She bookmarked the article about Doom’s request to the United Nations and saved her notes before closing her tabs and screens and rising from her desk. Her desk. Yes, it was standard and she’d had one in the lab, but this was hers, in her office, and she was going to do a hell of a job because she knew that they were trusting her and she didn’t even have her master’s yet oh God. “Okay,” she said, turning off the coffeemaker and picking up her bag. “Let’s go celebrate.”

“All the celebrating,” Jane agreed. “I’ve ordered dinner and I went downstairs to Michelle’s and got you a chocolate orange.”

“You’re the best,” Darcy said, following Jane out the door and closing it behind her. The magnetic lock clicked, and she grinned at the nearest camera before heading for the elevator. “I guess Tony talked to you?” Jane’s ponytail bounced up and down ahead of her.

“Yeah. He explained everything, and I’m supposed to start meeting with some of his people in the morning to try to find a new set of assistants. Seriously, I’m going to need at least three to handle what you do,” Jane sighed.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss --“ Darcy shook her head, brown hair flying. “You’re not though. For…for the first time in…”

“Four years,” Jane said softly. “But I’m glad. I’m really glad, Darcy. I mean, I love you, you’re the sister I never had, but…”

“But I need to spread my wings. I get you,” Darcy agreed. “Well, the good news is I should definitely be able to afford my own apartment in a month or two, I’ve just got to save up for deposits and everything.”

“Yeah? That is good news,” Jane agreed. “Maybe next you’ll get a date.”

“Oh, shut up, I go out,” Darcy said, bumping shoulders with her friend. It wasn’t long before they were having dinner, Alessandro’s from downstairs. Darcy moaned just a little as she ate, the lasagna perfect, the breadsticks good and crunchy. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was,” she admitted, taking a long drink of red wine.

“Isn’t that usually my line?” Jane said, her smile quivering just a little. “Oh, this is going to be…it’s great, but I just know I’m going to miss you so much in the labs, Darce, I’m used to having you there…”

“Hey, now. Like I said, it’s gonna be a couple months before I move out anyway, I’m still gonna be around,” Darcy insisted. “And besides, I’m only five floors down from this floor and four down from the labs. It’ll be fine, Janey, we can have lunch together, we can go to the movies, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah. I know, and I know…Tony said what you’re doing is absolutely essential, really, for the Avengers, it’s just…I don’t like change in my personal life. It’s hard.”

“Awww. I know,” Darcy soothed. “But it’s not going to be that big a change. It’s not. And he promised me he would find you somebody good. So it’s gonna be okay.”

The next morning found Darcy up bright and early, her heels slightly muffled by the carpet of the building as she went downstairs to her office. Instead of her baggy sweater over a tee over jeans, she wore a black pencil skirt that fell just below her knees, white blouse, with a sapphire blue jacket for a pop of color. Her hair was up in a tight French braid, her bag replaced by the briefcase her Opa had given her for graduation. She nodded pleasantly to the few people she saw in the hallway of her floor, and went directly to her office, the door now bearing a brass nameplate; “Darcy Lewis, political analyst.” She couldn’t resist the smile that split her face, seeing it there, or taking a picture and sending it to her Opa and Oma. She had called them the night before, but that, that sort of made it a little more real.

She had just sat down behind her desk, coffee at two o’clock, notepad and pencil before her, when someone tapped on her closed office door. “Come in,” she called, and the door opened to show a stranger, an older woman with graying black hair.

“Good morning, Miss Lewis. I’m Linda, Linda Garrison. One of the attorneys for the Initiative.” Darcy rose from her seat, holding out her hand.

“Good morning, Ms. Garrison. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” the attorney replied, looking over the office. “Just started?”

“Yes, just yesterday actually.”

“Ms. Potts said that she’s going to be adding more analysts?”

“Yes. I’ll be heading the political team; of course we’ll leave the PR and the legal aspects to your team and PR, we’ll be offering political advice in regards to the different countries the Avengers might find themselves in,” Darcy explained. Ms. Garrison nodded slowly, her smile fading a bit, but never quite leaving her face.

“I head the legal team. I don’t know exactly how much we’ll work together, Ms. Lewis, but just in case there’s any friction between your team and mine, I’m who you’ll come to.”

“The same; I hope there won’t be any, though. I can’t really foresee any,” Darcy said, and Ms. Garrison nodded.

“Neither can I, right offhand, but one never knows, and it’s always best to know one’s peers and the chain of command. Well. I’ll let you get to it, my office is up the hall toward the elevator if you should need anything.”

“Thank you, Ms. Garrison. Good meeting you.”

“And you.” Darcy nodded, shook hands again, waited for the woman to leave before sitting back down at her desk. “FRIDAY, is there a way to engage do not disturb on this floor for the individual offices?”

“Yes, Miss Lewis. Would you like me to?”

“Give it another half hour, and then yes,” Darcy ordered. “Jane, any member of the actual Avengers Initiative, and Ms. Potts can override, but that’s it.”

“Yes, Ms. Lewis,” the AI agreed. “May I ask if the coffee provided was adequate?”

“Yes, it’s fine for now. I’d like to put in an order for a two pound bag of Thunderbolt French Roast starting next week, please.”

“Yes, Miss Lewis. Weekly or bi-weekly delivery?”

“Ah…biweekly for now, I’ll reevaluate once I figure out how much I actually need?”

“Excellent. Will there be anything else?”

“Not right now, FRIDAY, thanks so much.”

Her first real day of work as a political analyst went well, she thought. She read through the various articles and watched the news clips that had had aggregated over the last six months about the political situation of Latveria, taking careful notes, until lunch. During her lunch (a very nice lunch of fruit and soup, thanks, she’d had all the carbs the night before) she made notes regarding what she wanted her team to do from day to day, mainly research on what Pepper had called the short-term assignments, the political and social thoughts of the various countries of the world on the Avengers and whether they would accept assistance or not. “FRIDAY?” She asked once she was done with that.

“Yes, Miss Lewis?”

“What were the date parameters of the Latveria search that Tony ran?”

“Mr. Stark ordered a search for news stories regarding Doctor Doom and the political situation in Latveria between six months ago and two days ago, Miss Lewis.”

“Okay, new search, please. Same parameters except go back one full year, and update with any new stories that have shown up in the last two days,” Darcy ordered. “And keep it updated with new stories until further instructions.”

“Yes, Miss Lewis. That will take a few minutes, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine. Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Lewis.”

By the end of the week, she had the zero draft of her report, she had reviewed a dozen resumes for the team that had been sent on to her by Pepper, and she had a rough idea of how the countries in the EU and some of the Eastern European countries viewed the Avengers. She felt it was a good start. There were a few sticky points that she wanted to work out, but overall, it was a good start.

She spent the weekend combing through thrift shops and secondhand stores, looking for businesswear that number one, would fit, number two, wasn’t all black or gray, and number three, was good enough quality that if it didn’t fit, but could be tailored, she would be willing to make the investment. She could do some things, taking hems up or down, for example, but she preferred to let professionals deal with the jackets, for example.

Monday morning, she was in her office at eight-thirty, sipping coffee and looking over her notes regarding the actual national status of Atlantis. Was it a country? It wasn’t recognized by the UN, or by more than two or three other countries, one of which was Latveria, which was amusing as Latveria was a landlocked postage stamp, actually, in the middle of Eastern Europe. But Greece, Italy, and Greenland all three recognized it as a sovereign nation, and King Namor had given several interviews…she should really look into that. If the Avengers had to deal with something rising from the sea, which they had already done on several occasions, they should really have at least a working relationship with Atlantis. But how? They didn’t exactly have an embassy, it was common knowledge that most Atlanteans would die if exposed to air too long. She’d have to think about that.

“Miss Lewis, Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers have just gotten off on your floor, they seem agitated,” FRIDAY warned her.

“Thanks, FRIDAY. Unlock the door for them, would you?”

“Certainly.”

A few seconds later, Tony and Steve came into her office, both in mufti, which gave her the chance to appreciate Steve in jeans, thank you Dr. Erskine. “Really sorry about this, Darce,” Steve began as Tony pushed past him on the way to the coffee machine. He looked as if he had just rolled out of bed, possibly head first. That was definitely yesterday’s AC/DC tee he was wearing, and --

“Tony, are you still in your pajama pants?” Darcy asked.

“Maybe. At least I’m wearing pants, be grateful,” he said, picking up one of her novelty coffee cups. “You’ve got Rebel and First Order and Imperial coffee cups?”

“May the Force be with you,” she said, and he snorted.

“And also with you, Artoo.”

“Does that make you Threepio? Because you’re the snarkiest bastard in the building.”

“HA! No.” He poured himself some coffee, choosing, she noted, the “I run so I can keep up with the Doctor” cup. “Steve?” That got her attention. Tony was using Steve’s name. Not Cap, not Capsicle, not Captain Tightpants. Steve. Tony was being serious, or at least trying to. He turned her office chair around, sitting on it backwards, while Steve hovered near the doorway.

“Okay. Steve, close the door, get some coffee if you want, then sit down. Tony. Seriously. What’s going on?”

“About twenty minutes ago, I got a phone call,” Tony began as Steve, bless him, followed orders. “From the Latverian Embassy.” Both of Darcy’s eyebrows went up. “Doom is coming here, to New York, tomorrow. His bees are working overtime, because he wants to set up a meeting with the UN and ask, formally, for UN assistance in…” Tony looked at his coffee, took another sip, shook his head. “He wants to reset his government, I guess. Change Latveria from, let’s face it, a dictatorship ruled by a literal iron fist, to a constitutional monarchy.”

“Are you serious?” Darcy said when she could find her voice. “That’s…that’s nothing short of amazing.”

“Yep. That’s what the guy on the other end of the line said. I was informed because he wants to ensure that the Avengers know he’s coming on a diplomatic mission.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I haven’t had time to do more than a zero draft of my report, but I can email it to you, no problem.”

“And you’ve got time to finish it, Darcy, I’m not trying to rush you, but I -- we,” Tony corrected himself, looking guiltily at Steve, “want your general impressions and conclusions.” Darcy took a deep breath, blew it out.

“Okay. General impressions and conclusions? He’s been working on this for at least the last year,” she began. “Slow outreaches to surrounding nations, specifically Symkaria and Chernaya. Definite rebuffs toward Putin’s minions; there was a minor diplomatic dustup last year when he and a couple of his robots personally dropped off four Russian agents on the front steps of the Kremlin. It was…interesting, at least for a few days, over there, but thankfully, nobody got stupid.” She paused to sip her coffee, then continued. “He’s allowing at least some of his subjects to visit Chernaya and Symkaria now, and he’s put down two attempted coups by a couple of his colonels, both of whom would have probably wanted to keep the police state.”

“That…maybe it’s just me,” Steve said slowly. “But if you wanted to make your country free, why wouldn’t you just do that?”

“Because they wouldn’t know what to do with freedom, Steve,” Darcy explained. “They still don’t. It’s going to take at least a couple of generations before the general populace understands the difference between what they’ve always had, and what they have the chance for. Even a constitutional or parliamentarian monarchy is better than the despot he’s been.” She drummed her fingers on her coffee cup, trying to think of how best to explain. “They’ve lived under a very harsh rule all their lives. They don’t know anything but toe the line, don’t speak badly of Doom, or life in Latveria, or else you disappear. Allowing small groups to go experience what life is like in Symkaria and Chernaya for a week or two at a time lets the people see the difference between the countries. He’s lifted the ban on speaking favorably of other countries, yes, that was an actual law for thirty years, you couldn’t speak well of the United States or Canada or the EU if you were in Latveria. He’s upgraded the common standard of living for most of his people, if you’ll give me a second?” She picked up her tablet, ran a before and after image search on Google, handed it to Steve. “On the left, you’ll see a common Latverian farm in 1990.” A small house that could barely be called better than a hut. Four people, man, woman, two children, standing in front of it with blank expressions. “On the right, you’ll see that same farm last year.” The house behind the family, which now numbered eight, had obviously been expanded, a real metal roof rather than tin sheets on the top, there was a truck and a four door sedan in the background. “He imported, at his own expense, a work truck and a car for every Latverian farming family last summer. Gave it to them. Flip the screen.” Steve did so to look at a line of trucks painted in bright, cheery colors, the people standing in front of them smiling broadly, dark skinned and haired, dressed in Latverian folk costume. “That’s a tribe of Latverian Romani. He’s always been partial to them, his mother was Roma.”

“He’s buying his people things? Why didn’t he do that before?” Steve asked, handing her the tablet, his face blank. “Why didn’t he try to improve their standard of living before?”

“I don’t know. What I do know is that in the last year, maybe year and a half, I haven’t finished all the research yet, he’s been making huge strides in improving the standard of living and expanding and opening human and civil rights in his country, and that by itself is amazing. For someone to just…turn themselves around like this? It doesn’t happen. It really doesn’t happen. Not without some form of intervention, not without something happening personally to open their eyes to what they’ve been doing.”

“So he got Jesus?” Tony asked, and Darcy threw her hands in the air, shrugging.

“I don’t know if it’s Jesus, Odin, or Baba Yaga kicked the fear of her into him, but the results speak for themselves. Victor Von Doom has been making changes in his country and in his rule for the last year. Maybe you guys could go over to Empire State and see if there are any recent Latverian students who are willing to talk to you? I don’t know that they would, but it’s a possibility. All I know for sure is that the news stories currently coming out of Latveria, Symkaria, and Chernaya all point to a massive change in the governmental outlook, and the quality of life.”

“Huh.” Tony sipped his coffee again, leaning back in his chair, his eyes half-closed. “Steve?”

“I mean, I think it’s great,” Steve said slowly. “If he really is sincere about all of this, it’s great. Knowing that maybe in a time of world crisis, we could perhaps ask Doom for backup? Would be a huge advantage, honestly, because he’s almost as smart as you, Tony.”

“Please, tell me more about how clever I am,” Tony smirked, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Be serious. But on the other hand, what if --“

“IT’S A TRAP,” Darcy and Tony said at the same time, and Tony picked it up. “Yeah. It could be. Or it could be he finally took a page out of his old pal Namor’s book, and decided to build instead of destroy.”

“I know you want to believe, Tony,” Steve sighed. “I know you do. And honestly? I do, too. I’d love to have another ally, especially in Eastern Europe. But I can’t just…say I’m from Missouri, I guess.”

“Look at it this way, Steve,” Darcy interjected. “He’s doing all the right things, and has been for a year. He’s invested tons, literally tons, of money in fixing his infrastructure and his people’s way of life. And now he’s coming to the UN for help. He’s not stupid, not at all. He knows he can’t just say, okay now, let’s vote on who you want to represent you. The UN is going to want to send teams over there, they’re going to want to investigate themselves. Can you open your mind enough to give Doom the benefit of the doubt until the UN finishes their investigation, at least?”

Steve was quiet, looking down at his hands for a long minute before his shoulders rose and fell, and he nodded. “I won’t say I don’t want to be cautious,” he said, looking up at her. “But we can give a man a chance. Everybody deserves at least one chance to change.”

“Great,” Tony said, standing. “Then I’ll call the Embassy and let them know that the Avengers recognize and approve of Lord Protector Von Doom’s visit to the UN, and any unpleasantness will not be started by the Avengers.”

“And give them my office number, would you, Tony?” Darcy interjected. “If I’m your political liaison, they should call me from now on.”

“Fuck. You’re right, Lewis. My bad.” He had the good grace to frown, at least. “You just started the job, hell, we just created it, that’s probably why…”

“No, I’m not mad,” Darcy hastened to reassure him. “You’re right, it’s not as if we’ve made a big deal about the new position or anything yet. We can make an announcement after Doom leaves. We don’t want to upstage his visit, that wouldn’t be prudent.”

“Right. Okay. Get with Pepper on that, she’s got the embassy numbers. Cap, you good?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, rising as well. “Thanks for your time, Darcy.”

“Hey, it’s what I’m here for. My advice, honestly, cautious support and observation is the best way to go in this. If he’s for real, we’ll know it; it’ll take the UN at least a year, maybe two, to get the elections set up. If he’s not, he’ll fuck up and show the autocratic DOOM IS BETTER THAN YOU PEASANTS crap again.” She grinned, bumping fists with Tony. “Villains, real ones, can’t help themselves, they have to feed their massive ass egos.”

“Exactly. Come on, mon Capitan, let’s go get Danish.” The two men left her office, and Darcy shook her head, smiling, as she went back to work.

#darcy lewis #fanfic #fanfiction #Avengers #tony stark #steve rogers #Victor Von Doom #darcyland #The Darcy/Victor Von Doom fic that nobody asked for #political wrangling #darcy is smart #@subsilvernight #I love reblogs

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lord-rosenth0rne · 7 years

Text

The Outbreak, Pt. 1

I thought about this while at work last week and though I’d start working on a short story/novelle for it.

Kinda Zombie Apocalypse, virus outbreak sort of deal in the first person. Enjoy!

Rated: Teen at least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone thought he was a paranoid nutcase, myself included. That was one of the few things I knew about my father.

“Shit is about to go down, Elena. I’m coming down to get you and the kid and we’re headed up into the mountains. I have a bunker. It’s fully stocked for this purpose. There are enough supplies to last at least a decade for three people.”

That’s what he said during the ‘end of the world’ a couple of years back. He wouldn’t tell us where it was but harped on how important it was to get us up there and for us to get guns and learn to shoot. I had younger siblings I couldn’t abandon. There was no way I was going to get into a bunker with a man I only met once in my life and leave them high and dry if something horrible did happen. If they couldn’t go, I wasn’t going and I made it clear. And I didn’t really trust myself with a gun at that time. He wasn’t very happy hearing that but I was firm on the subject. The ‘end of the world’ came and went and all was well. No rapture. No machines turning against us. Nothing. He was wrong, big surprise.

Years later, however, he turned out to be right and I regret not heeding his warnings. He didn’t predict exactly this, but it had the same outcome. He was wrong countless times before, who could blame me? Who knew he’d be right this time or at all? Only this time was different. This time he was dead when everything went down. He had died of a sudden heart attack a week before the first attack even happened but he made sure to document each and every day of his life since the ‘end of the world’ incident on his laptop which was given to me the day of his funeral. He was cremated and was to be buried in a military plot in the middle of nowhere, among the many ivory headstones of other fallen heroes. He was a Marine in his youth. His experiences took a severe toll on his mental health.

At first, I just tossed his laptop aside. I was curious but I was also upset at his sudden passing. I was upset that he and I never really got to know each other. My family thought it was for the best. He and I were just too different. That didn’t stop him from telling everyone about me though, that he was proud of me despite not knowing who I was. I heard it from the people at his funeral and it hurt. He was proud of the idea that he had a child, it didn’t matter who.

I decided to take a look at the laptop around the time the first attacked happen states away. We really didn’t think much other than it being an isolated incident. Bath salts or some new psychological drug that could have caused someone to start to eat another person or whatever. I can’t really remember the details nor do I wish to.

Anyway, I started to look through the dinosaur of a laptop. It had to be every bit of twelve years old. I found he was an urban explorer in his spare time and at one point tried to download Photoshop or some picture editing software that was too modern. The laptop only had so little space and even if it had enough space, it clearly could not handle it. I combed through his archives, finding old pictures of his family, pictures of himself as he progressed through a biker and mobster phase with urban exploration photos mixed in, various tasteless opinions of the political power of that time, and a couple of videos he had done to update everyone on a stroke he had months prior to his death. The videos broke my heart.

As I searched through the archive, I found a ‘hidden’ folder. It wasn’t actually hidden to the point that I had to ‘show all files’ but it was under a folder labeled something different. For the life of me, I cannot remember what it was. It may have been military lingo or an inside joke for all I knew. I just remember opening it and finding a word file with coordinates, a list of ready supplies, and an aerial view of the mountains up north with a red circle over a patch of trees. It looked like he had taken a picture of the actual map and uploaded it that way. At the bottom of the page was a reminder to himself not to go looking for the physical map, that he had burned it while out urban exploring. I could only guess that he had memory issues.

Under that was another word document that was at least a hundred pages long, giving me a play by play of what his life was like. It was boring and full of paranoid ramblings, how other humans couldn’t be trusted and that he somehow knew the FBI and CIA were stalking him and so on. I was intrigued enough with everything but the ramblings to transfer the file over to my own up-to-date laptop, promising myself to one day get out there to look around. What struck me as odd is he repeated ‘Trust no one’ in his ramblings, yet he was willing to bunk with two people he barely knew. It seemed like he hadn’t gotten over my mother after they split.

I should have made my way out there sooner. At least then I could have saved my family and friends.

It turned out that whatever was happening, it was happening quicker than everyone realized. Those involved in that single incident started to turn on those around them and attack, chomping into whatever part of the body they could get to first. Attacks were popping up all across the country, even overseas in some places. The infection or disease seemed to be spread by biting.

The first attack in my small town happened at my place of work, of all places. It figured. I couldn’t tell if Murphy’s Law loved or hated me but it was sure there when all of this started. I was in the back of the retail store, unloading merchandise from a truck we just had received when screaming erupted in the front of the store. I rushed out to see that one of our regulars, an older gentleman, had attacked another customer, a younger man. It took several people to get the regular off the customer only for another to get bitten by the regular. It wasn’t until the cops showed up that the incident was resolved. Both victims were transported to the hospital while the regular was arrested and taken away. Guess who had to clean up that bloodied mess? Not any of us, that’s for sure. There was no way in hell that I or any of the other associates was going to touch it. The company allowed us to close the store four hours early so they could get a clean-up crew in. Blood is a bio-hazard no matter if you’re clear of diseases or not. There was even talk about sending the associates to therapy if needed. It was usually done for a robbery but this was an exception. Thankfully, I had a strong stomach and a morbid mind already so what I witnessed really didn’t bother me. It was surreal nonetheless.

The number of attacks grew. Before we knew it, our police force was gone and the hospital wasn’t a safe place to send the sick anymore. Whatever was changing people into these… things had infiltrated places that were supposed to be there to help you in an emergency. In hindsight, it was to be expected but as the saying goes: Hindsight is 20/20.

This… virus, for a lack of a better term, was destroying people’s minds and causing them to become animalistic. Their behavior matches something off the silver screen but they don’t look infected with anything. The news claimed that those infected weren’t dead, many of them still had pulses and heartbeats and color in their cheeks but they weren’t alive either. They looked… normal? Or at least, in the beginning, they did. Over the course of a single week, the people infected started to have pieces of them fall off, skin, fingers, and limbs, you name it, and they smelled horrible. The southern heat wasn’t making things any better. It made them stink to high heaven but let them move around easier.

Small communities started to come together to try to protect themselves. My area was no exception. The mayor appointed a group of able bodies, including myself, officers to help quell fears, retrieve stragglers, and forage for food as those who were handy with tools built a fortified wall around the small downtown. Shops were turned into homes, more were built in empty fields left over by historic hurricanes, and everyone just pitched in to help make things work out. There were a lot of elderly shut-ins in our area so I, along with a couple of others, would go out and retrieve them on a daily basis. That is if they were still ‘living’. A lot of our elders didn’t make the initial run and a handful of them was very stubborn. They would not leave their house no matter what. It reminded me of my own late grandmother.

The handful of doctors and nurses who took refuge with us screened everyone who came in once we knew what to look for. It wasn’t easy watching them turn away people who had symptoms of… whatever this was but was cognitive enough to know they were being rejected. This caused a lot of families to be separated. I was one of the lucky ones. I had my entire family with me along with a couple of friends. Looking back though, I don’t know if you could call that lucky knowing what came next.

A lot of people trusted our mayor. He was a good man before all this started but I think the uncertainty of everything and the pressure to make split decisions had taken a toll on him. No one thinks they’re going to be in this kind of position when the world decides it wants to go to hell with itself. He was as scared as the rest of us. Fear makes people do crazy and unpredictable things. If I had anything to say about what he did, despite what he did, I would say he cared very much about his people. Almost too much.

The mayor proposed a small autumn party for the survivors to ‘lift spirits and keep the faith alive’. I really wasn’t feeling very festive with everything going on but at the time I thought it was a good thing, especially for my younger siblings. I wanted them to feel like everything was going to be okay, all this was going to blow over and a sense of normalcy would return sooner than they thought. The kids in our community deserved to have a party to let them forget about the world for a while. A lot of them were having night terrors, afraid that the ‘monsters’ would come through the walls and eat them. As an officer, I did get a bit of satisfaction by telling them I would protect them from the monsters.

As much as I wanted to see the kids happy, I decided to skip out on the party with three others without the heads of the community knowing and head out to see what we could salvage from the nearby abandoned marketplace. Not that we really needed to, though. We had already gone through it a handful of times before but there was nothing really stopping us from going there to hang out. We donned our Kevlar armor, which proved faithful when it came to warding off bites, stun guns and gas masks in case of a raid and headed out. We had a couple of rogue groups come by during the community building who raised some Cain but it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be handled. We didn’t aim to kill any survivors either.

We were gone for maybe a couple of hours, screwing around in the large, empty building before heading back. It was the most fun I have had in a long time, since before the outbreak. We didn’t run into any of the infected either. It wasn’t until we made our way back that we felt something was seriously wrong. We didn’t see anything to indicate it. Music played in the distance at our camp. Nothing sounded or smelled out of the ordinary. We each confirmed that we felt this horrible knot in the pit of our stomachs that wouldn’t loosen up. Something bad had happened and we didn’t even know what. We rushed back as quickly as possible.

I will never forget what we walked in on.

#Short story #Pt 1 #Before I hit the hay #Zombies #Walkers #Infected #Apocalypse #First person #Just in time for Halloween #Part 2 coming soon #Now to bed

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