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unholybinchicken · 14 days

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(technically Thursday because of the time zone)

I did this a few weeks ago but haven't really done it lately so thought I'd do it today. I've got so many WIPs tbh so it's hard to pick just one (also I made a nice little cover art thingy for it on canva so gonna do this more regularly)

Tagging: @unholy-fabray, @yeasymuffin, @dedenneblogs, @lansangprincess, @blossoms-and-possums and anyone else who wants to share their WIPs.

General premise: this is a snippet from the Harper McLean character study I'm working on (Harmerie endgame of course). It was a hard choice between that, more of chapter 3 of i'm open to falling from grace and chapter 6 of stranded on the line where i lost you. This is a (mostly) canon-compliant fic and the part I've written so far contains references to ice addiction, alcohol and intravenous drug use.

Sneak preview under the cut

21st November, 2007

Harper McLean is born at 10:30pm in the back of her mum’s older sister Michelle’s old Holden Commodore, in the waning hours of a neighbourhood get-together. There’s still a dent on the car from New Years 2000, when her dad ‘borrowed’ it and accidentally hit a tree. It’s unregistered, unroadworthy, the paint is peeling in places, and someone put a Kevin-07 sticker on it a few weeks ago without asking, but Justin McLean and Nicole Webster didn’t really plan to have the baby today of all days.

Michelle and Nicole are the only sober people at this party, and Michelle’s the only one with a car, albeit one that shouldn’t touch a road, ever.

None of them realised that there was going to be a baby to plan for at all until a couple months ago.

Had they known, Nicole would have probably tried to give up partying, booze and smoking much, much earlier. Her first thought as she’s going into labour in the back of Michelle’s car is how much she really, really wants a fucking cigarette right now.

Or something stronger.

After all, if Justin can be high out of his mind for the birth of his first child, why can’t Nicole?

Against her own wishes, she resists temptation and stays sober. Someone has to. Michelle puts on the radio as the baby girl makes her grand entrance. The speakers are muffled, and the signal is fuzzy, but she can faintly make out ‘Rehab’ by Amy Winehouse.

Michelle, seeing how exhausted her sister is, asks Justin to cut the cord before they go to the hospital together. Justin is ranting about ghosts and home invaders and John Howard and God knows what else. His voice grows louder and louder and more and more agitated. As her eyes meet the familiar scar on Justin’s arm, his favourite injection site, Michelle wonders if he even realises he has a child now.

She cuts the cord with a set of nail clippers from her handbag and briefly considers letting Justin hold the baby, his daughter, but he can barely stand, and his words come out slurred and disconnected.

Truthfully, she’s not sure if she should let this man within ten metres of her newborn niece. She’s not sure what possessed her sister to sleep with him in the first place.

Probably the same thing that’s coursing through his veins right now, she thinks.

Nicole was always an avid reader, at least before she hit puberty and she started hanging out with the local dropkicks and doing drugs, all while things turned to shit at home. Mum died, then Dad succumbed to his own substance abuse problems and went to jail, and so Michelle and Nicole were passed around from relative to relative until they settled with Nanna Louise. It was the closest thing either of them had to a stable home, but they soon learned that nothing lasts forever. Nanna Louise died, and things went from bad to worse. Knowing that going to school wouldn’t pay the bills, Michelle dropped out to become a florist. Nicole was different; there was a time when she wanted to go to uni and become a teacher. She wanted to travel the world and marry a handsome man, have a nice house, two kids, a dog and a white picket fence. But that was then, and this is now.

She, like her sister, dropped out of school in year ten. She’s unemployed. There’s no dog, no white picket fence. The only income she has comes from Centrelink, and, more often than not, it’s used to fund Justin’s drug habit. Her life didn’t exactly turn out like she pictured it.

Well, almost. She has her daughter, who’s tiny, but who has her mother’s eyes and nose. They get to the hospital, and as the nurses clean the new baby up and keep an eye on the new mother, Michelle goes outside to smoke a cigarette.

When Nicole eventually comes to, Michelle asks, “What are you going to call her?”

“I was going to name her after Nanna Louise,” Nicole says, frowning. “She doesn’t really look like a Louise, though.”

Michelle contemplates asking if Justin has any ideas, but she knows he’s not sober enough to contribute anything productive to the conversation. “No, she doesn’t,” she agrees. “She looks like you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. She’s got your nose,” Michelle says. “And your eyes, I think.”

Nicole smiles. She looks at her sleeping infant and says, “Harper. Harper Louise McLean.”

#wip wednesday #my writing #unholybinchicken #ao3 #harper mclean #justin mclean #heartbreak high

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total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

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okay. panopticon talk made me think about a milgram total drama au with warden noah. i will elaborate on what that is later.

Total Drama Milgram Experiment? Anon is it that obvious that I'm a Psychology student? Are you using these buzzwords to intentionally get my mind racing with Ideas??

Listen to me. I'm grabbing you by your shoulders and shaking you, please listen to me. In a TD Milgram experiment, Chef would be the warden/experimenter. Or maybe Chris, at a stretch. The whole point of the warden/experimenter is to be an authority figure, and Chef the closest thing to authoritive we have.

But Noah could always be the learner. He's Chris' assistant, after all, so having him as the confederate in this experiment make sense.

And now I'm thinking of a whole AU where the TD cast are forced to experience a whole circuit of morally charged psychology experiments.

Let's say that this whole experiment is a late-game challenge, post merge, and the competitors are tasked with 'teaching' a 'learner' (Noah), the same set up as the actual experiment itself. But the real goal of the challenge is actually to disobey Chef and show an inkling of compassion for the student.

Maybe this is part of the hypothetical Total Drama Dirtbags instead, and the challenges are geared towards teaching 'bad' people things like Ethics and Morality. But instead of the fake cast introduced during the Celebrity Manhunt episode, it's an All-Stars adjacent collection of the 'antagonists' and 'villain-adjacent' competitors across the first two generations. (I'd add gen three, but I haven't watched PI yet.)

So you'd have the obvious villain characters like Heather, Alejandro and Scott, alongside morally grey characters like Courtney, Duncan and Jo, paired with characters who aren't traditional antagonists but have the potential to be so like Eva and B (he's not villainous, but that boy carries around ice carving tools and knows how to hotwire explosions- he's nonconventional, and probably anti-authoritarian, and would make such an interesting antagonist due to his hypercompetence). Chuck in some polarising characters like Gwen and Lightning for flavour, and you've got yourself a cast chock full of potential.

So the challenge begins with the final four; since the experiment itself is a one-person deal, having it be an individual challenge close to the finale makes the most thematic sense- plus, learning when to defy authority as a moral objector is a pretty advanced Morality and Ethics lesson, so it would make more sense to present this moral dilemma later on in the season. I won't make any concrete statements here, but Courtney's definitely one of the final four here.

So she gets to go first.

Courtney is ushered into a sterile room, housing two desks and a doorway. At one of the desks, the one closest to the entrance, Chef is sat almost boredly. He's dressed smartly, like a scholar, with moon-rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and a clipboard clutched between his hands.

The other desk, which is vacant, is situated against the wall next to the other doorway. On the wall itself is a switch box, displaying countless switches labelled "15" to "450"; there's a warning sticker peeling off of the box next to the "450" label, reading "WARNING: FATAL". Above the switch box is an empty screen.

Courtney stands awkwardly at the centre of the room, waiting for Chris to enter and explain what her challenge is, or for Chef to do the honours. After a few uncomfortable moments (during which she can feel Chef's judgemental stare boring into her back) the door opens, revealing the grinning face of Chris McLean, tailed by a reluctant looking Noah.

"Noah? What are you doing here?" She asks. He wasn't part of this seasons' cast, after all.

"This guy," The cynic points towards Chris, who's arms are crossed over his chest in a self-satisfied manner, "decided that my 'contractual obligations' included helping out with this challenge. I think it's a load of bull-"

"Thank you, Noah-it-all! What he means to say is, as my personal assistant, Noah was just jumping at the chance to help me out with this next challenge!"

The pessimist rolls his eyes, but doesn't offer any rebuttal.

"Speaking of, this one's gonna be a little different than your usual challenge; I call it 'The Mind Electric'."

Chef stands from his seat at the door-most desk and gingerly removes the bowler hat from his head. As he approaches the trio, he displays the hat before Courtney and Noah.

"You two'll pick out a role from the hat. One of you will be the Teacher, and the other will be the Learner."

"'Teacher'? 'Learner'? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I lost my teaching certificate in the mail, so can I just go or...?"

Chris narrows his eyes at Noah for the snark, then turns to face Courtney.

"A good question! You'll find out soon enough. Now, take your pick from the hat."

I'm losing steam, so I'll just summarise the rest of the 'challenge' here.

There's two folded papers in the hat, both of them have 'Teacher' written on them but since Noah's in on the act he claims to have picked 'Learner' instead. Chris leads Courtney and Noah through the doorway by the second desk, revealing a smaller room; it's mostly empty, save for the electric chair at its' centre.

Chris straps a reluctant Noah into the chair, explaining that it's a "variable of the challenge" and "nothing to be worried about", then leads Courtney back through to the first room. Chef's already sat back down at his desk, and Courtney is instructed to sit at hers (the one with the switchboard).

Once she's sat, Chris leaves the challenge site entirely, claiming something about the dangers of electricity as he does so. Chef then takes over as the main authority over the challenge, handing his clipboard to Courtney and telling her to recite what's written on it into the microphone at her desk.

On the clipboard is a series of passages, followed by a list of multiple choice questions about the passages (each question has four answers, labelled 1-4). Courtney reads out the first passage and it's questions, and Noah's answers appear on the screen above her (the screen displays a glowing number, 1-4, depending on his answer). Unsurprisingly, he gets them all right.

Until the last question. Which he gets wrong.

Chef instructs Courtney to flip the first switch- a "controlled electric shock" to work as punishment for getting the answer wrong. She does so, and a muffled yelp resounds from the doorway beside her- the door was left ajar, so she can just barely hear it.

The challenge continues, and Noah gets more answers wrong. Each time, Chef instructs Courtney to flip the next switch. She quickly realises that the intensity of the shock Noah receives increases with every switch, as his surprised yelps soon devolve into genuine cries of pain.

Courtney starts to question the validity of this 'experiment', but Chef emphasises the fact that, if she stops, she'll lose the challenge. She has to go on.

Courtney, being the competitive person she is (and not at all because she, as a teacher's pet, always questionlessly adheres to authority), continues.

From the other room, she can hear Noah's begging and crying. "Please, I don't want to do this anymore! It hurts! Please! Stop! It hurts!" She feels guilt crawl it's way into her gut, sharp nails dragging against the lining of her stomach and threatening to make her puke, but Chef insists that she has to carry on or she'll lose. So she continues.

Eventually, she finishes all of the questions on the clipboard (there's a few page's worth, so it takes about ~10 minutes). She's flipped the majority of the switches on the switch box, and Noah's pitiful sobbing has gone eerily silent in the other room.

Chris re-enters the room, a sombre look on his face.

"Huh. Didn't think you'd actually go through with the whole thing. Looks like someone's failed the challenge."

Courtney's understandably outraged at the prospect, because she did exactly as she was instructed to. But that's just the issue; she was supposed to question the immorality of the situation, not just blindly follow instructions.

Chris asks if she wants to see the state she's left Noah in, heavily implying that she's either killed him outright or severely hurt him. Courtney's hesitant, but eventually concedes that she should at least see the consequences of her actions.

So she's even more outraged when they enter the smaller room to see Noah playing Candy Crush on his phone, entirely unharmed. Not a single indication that he'd been shocked at all, despite the heart wrenching cries and sobs she'd been tortured with.

Maybe Noah gives a demonstration of his acting skills here? OR Maybe Chris decides not to let Courtney see Noah, leaving her in the dark to stew in the guilt of what she might've done. 🤷‍♀️

Uh. Got kind of carried away there. Oops?

#don't recite the ancient magics to me wizard. i was there when they were written.#in other words please don't speak psychology to me because I Will Fixate #(i.e. PLEASE fuel my psychology interests)#kinda ran wild with this one here. made a whole ass AU out of torturing the 'antagonists' with psychology experiments #y'all aren't ready for the stanford prison experiment challenge!!#total drama #silly ideas #i'll think of a proper au name for this later #might expand this into a full hypothetical all-stars adjacent season AU 🤔#replies

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biremmdbeautywellness · 5 days

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ear-worthy · 7 months

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Human Resources Podcast: The History Of The British Transatlantic Slave Trade

The Human Resources podcast defines its mission as "Exploring the true story of British involvement in the transatlantic slave trade and how it touches every part of the nation."

That's an admirable -- if not seriously overdue -- one. Sadly, in the U.S., a sizable contingent of its white citizens view an accurate retelling of the shame of slavery as a narrative that makes them "feel bad" and, as such, is to be avoided and expunged from the history books.

Thankfully, Broccoli Productions’ critically acclaimed slavery podcast Human Resources which was first launched in 2021has now returned for its third season. The podcast is hosted by political journalist and Novara Media contributing editor Moya Lothian McLean. As the host, McLean offers listeners a unique perspective on the perpetuation of the slave trade. She is a descendant of black slaves and white slave owners. Imagine that holiday dinner.

As a host, McLean excels, throttling lectures in favor of historical perspective and the connections between the slave trade and the upper crust of English society. As I listened to the first two seasons, it became abundantly clear that profits and greed overwhelmed any trepidation in English businesses about their machinations in the Transatlantic slave trade.

In the first season -- June 2021 -- an episode details the history of the Greene King pub chain in England. The family business had deep ties to the slave trade hundreds of years ago. Today, the family pub chain now supports several causes that promote racial equality and expose the sordid past of the slave trade.

In a January 2022 episode, McLean details how the much cherished British railway system was financed, in large part, by profits derived by the Transatlantic slave trade.

In perhaps its most riveting and disturbing episode in late May 2021, McLean and her two guests -- Dr. Madge Dresser and Dr. Sami Pinarbas -- weave a narrative of how the British upper class -- including Sir Robert Peel Jr, who served twice as the British Prime Minister in the early 19th century -- were directly linked to the slave trade.

The 10-episode weekly series focuses its just launched third season on the period in which slavery was abolished in Britain, in 1807, and what happened after.

“[We’re] kicking off season three with 'Inventing Race', which examines how the British transatlantic slave trade created conceptions of race that still dog us today - and have even been adopted by those they marginalize,” McLean tweeted.

Previous seasons of the podcast have explored how the transatlantic slave trade impacted modern Britain by diving into the history of the British monarchy, the original Great Western Railway, Scotland’s slaving history, and more.

The podcast has also featured appearances from a number of contributing experts, including early modern Britain historian and professor Brooke Newman and Sheffield Environmental Movement founder and journalist Maxwell Ayamba, among others. It's not surprising that the Human Resources podcast has received numerous accolades. Other shows that Broccoli has produced include We Were Always Here with activist Marc Thompson on the lives of people that were affected by the UK HIV epidemic, and documentary podcast The Stitch Up on the damaging effects of the fashion industry.

This U.K. podcast that does not hold back in exposing how the tentacles of the Transatlantic slave trade hooked themselves in the core of the British Empire, from scientists to railway executives, and from nobility to businesses.

It's a podcast that's been tried here with the 1619 Project, which was attacked by conservative media and politicians. The 1619 Project, named for the date of the first arrival of Africans on American soil, sought to place “the consequences of slavery and the contributions of black Americans at the very center of our national narrative.”

Was America founded as a slavocracy, and are current racial inequities the natural outgrowth of that? Americans who answer yes wish to explore the past so that we can reshape the future. Americans who deny that grim reality wish to isolate themselves in patriotism on steroids, ignoring all that does not conform to their view that we are a nation conceived in liberty, and dismissing any inconsistencies that challenge its founding principles?

Listen to the Human Resources podcast.

#podcast #podcasting #racism #history

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gazelleculturelle · 1 year

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DESTINATION PEEL FESTIVAL GOURMAND

La 4e édition de Destination Peel festival gourmand, qui s’étend sur la rue Peel entre les rues de Maisonneuve et Ste-Catherine, a débuté lors de la fin de semaine du 4 mai. Ce rendez-vous festif, un atout majeur au rayonnement du centre-ville, continuera jusqu’en octobre prochain. Depuis quatre ans, cet événement est une invitation aux épicuriens, gourmets et amateurs de gastronomie et créativité culinaire. Il leur donne rendez-vous en plein cœur de Montréal pour une célébration de tous les sens dans une des artères les plus achalandées au Canada.Destination Peel Festival Gourmand met en valeur la diversité des restaurants de la rue Peel, une artère iconique de notre ville. Les établissements participants sont le Campo, Chez Alexandre, Ferreira, Fiorella,Ibérica, Livia, Pizzeria No.900, Pub McLean’s, Ryu, Soubois, Vasco da Gama, Universel Déjeuners-Grillades et Zante. Cette nouvelle édition offrira une gamme de dégustations, d’ateliers culinaires, de soirées découvertes de repas et des accords bières et vins de chez-nous. Elle sera plus vibrante et festive que jamais avec des performances de Dj’s, de musiciens et d’activités pour toute la famille.La rue Peel sera transformée avec des aménagements extérieurs colorés, l’élargissement des terrasses des établissements participants et une oasis urbaine. Destination Peel Festival Gourmand proposera uneexpérience et une atmosphère unique pour les amateurs de cuisine locale. Peel Festival Gourmand est une production d’Impact Media : une entreprise spécialisée dans l'organisation d'événements de grande envergure et de festivals de rue populaires ainsi que dans la gestion de sites. En collaboration avec ARC Peel, Impact Media a développé une solide expertise dans la planification et la réalisation de projets événementiels, tels que le Formule Peel, un événement de prestige se déroulant durant le week-end du Grand Prix du Canada.

#festival

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delightmdaesthetics · 1 year

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tiredbeescom · 1 year

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A Regular Kick-Up by John 'HB' Doyle (Reproduction) - Standard Postcard

A Regular Kick-Up by John ‘HB’ Doyle (Reproduction) – Standard Postcard

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biremmdbeautyandwellness · 2 years

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cosmoshunger · 3 years

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ROSSROSSROSS WHAT IS THIS SECRET PJO PROJECT OF WHOM YOU SPEAKETH

Aha, I believe you mean “Jolly-hockey-sticks the SECRET PROJECT aka cheesy boy band music”!

Well well well, I won’t divulge much about this one since a) it’s a secret project which so far I’ve done a terrible job of keeping secret and b) it could take until next summer to write it, rewrite it and post it, but have a little extract:

If Piper had to listen to one more song by Jimmy Buffett, she might just murder her chauffeur.

Gritting her teeth, she resisted the urge to shout as he mumbled along to When Salome Plays The Drum, half the lyrics missing and woefully out of tune. She picked at the threads of the dress her father’s secretary had forced her into - a hideous frilly primrose number which clashed horribly with her olive complexion. “It’s a prestigious school, Piper,” Jane had admonished her when she’d turned up that morning in her usual outfit of denim shorts and a tie-dyed hoodie. “You can’t turn up looking like a tramp.” She’d continued her lecture as she tugged Piper’s hair into a severe French plait, digging false nails into her scalp. “Many girls would kill to get into Southerby, you know? I had to pull a lot of strings to get you a place. At least show a little gratitude.”

It wasn’t that Piper wasn’t grateful, exactly. She’d just rather her father talk to her before shipping her off to another on a long list of private schools.

#spot the sneaky mbmbam reference #wip game #heroes of olympus #keep your eyes peeled #piper mclean #my writing

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minidovecomics · 6 years

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lost guns v2 #456 - melting

check out more of my comics at mini dove comics, @retail-comics, & @sketchesmick plus like the facebook page for more comic news.

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nycspirit · 7 years

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you've heard of elf on the shelf, now get ready for...

#lucas steele #great comet memes #natasha pierre and the great comet of 1812 #great comet #anatole kuragin #denee benton #natasha rostova #war & peace #broadway #pierre bezukhov #dave malloy #oak onaodowan #grace mclean #britain ashford #gelsey bell #ghost quartet #steele on a peel

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depressedacadamia · 3 years

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Blood will have blood

Summary: Being a healer during a war was a job that only few could handle- seeing soldiers who risk their lives was not for the weak. But Will questions everything as a powerful but very young demigod is about to die before his very eyes.

A/N: Day two of Will solace's bday week!!! I know I could have written another 3 Days in the infirmary fic but I thought I'd give some angst because I haven't done it in a while and I listened to somone talk about Patroclus' death; it was in the Podcast Let's talk about myths, baby! It's suuppperrr good but that episode had me close to tears. Thnks to @solangeloweek AND THIS IS REVENGE FOR THAT REALLY GOOD BUT SAD FIC BY MY FRIEND; THEY KNOW WHO THEY ARE. Anyways, love from me <3 !!

Read on A03 Masterlist

“Move!” Will yelled as he hastily brought medical supplies to the healer who was working on fixing someone’s foot which had been sliced off.

“Fucking Gods, sending their kids to fight their battles, They don't know when to stop, do they?” Will gritted out aggressively as he crouched down by his patient- a powerful but young demigod who had been severely injured in a vicious fight.

Will washed the bloody cloth in the water and produced a clean one, at which he gently cleaned the wounds. He could feel their life force thinning, their heart beating softer and softer. He had given the demigod all he could- ambrosia, nectar and as much treatment as he could offer; but they were in a war- he couldn't dwell too much on the patients who he couldn’t save.

“If you don't require urgent treatment, you need to leave,” Will announced. “ Starting now, we are under triage. Red patients will immediately be accepted, yellow will have to wait- the walking wounded will have to consult their nearest field medic. I repeat, As of now, we are in triage!”

“Will, a new wave of patients are going to come soon- apparently the enemies have launched a fresh attack and our side wasn't prepared,” Kayla mumbled, handing out supplies to the healers. Will groaned but his frustration was quickly overcome with worry: how would his friends on the frontline fare with this fresh assault?

He worried for some of his siblings who had chosen to be soldiers over healers, he worried for people like Annabeth Chase and Piper Mclean- He even worried over Percy Jackson.

But most of all he worried over Nico Di Angelo. He was not concerned over Nico dying; he knew his boyfriend very well and the chance that he’d let someone else kill him was practically impossible. But he did fear Nico overworking himself, it was almost unavoidable.

Alas, he couldn’t worry about his boyfriend, he was in a war after all and he had to focus on his job- to heal the others.

“Will-” An urgent voice tugged him from his thoughts. “ Isn’t there anything else you can do for them?” The soldier pointed at his wounded younger sibling. His bruised, bloody face was contorted into a grim expression as his hand gripped the hand of the dying soldier.

“We can’t do anymore,” Kayla informed sadly. But as Will watched the young patient slowly being dragged to Thanatos, he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't this child's time yet- that's what they were, a child.

They were fighting a war, children were fighting a war while the almighty sat in their thrones above and watched it as if it were simply a film. Innocent children like the one beside Will were dying and.. And - and the gods just expected them to continue.

“There is something I can try,” Will started quietly. “But I can’t guarantee that it will work.”

“Will, you can’t-” Kayla quickly cut in. “You know how draining it is on your body and you've never tried it on somebody with such grave injuries before.”

“But I can still try,” Will told Kayla. His mind was made up- if his friends were out there risking their lives on the battlefield, this was the least he could do; risk his life to save this innocent, and powerful demigod. If this went right, their quick recovery would be essential to winning.

Kayla knew that nothing could stop Will as he peeled off his gloves and placed his hands onto the cold skin of the soldier. Will’s hands danced slowly around the bloodstained chest and abdomen of the soldier and every once in a while, his fingertips would accidentally brush against the wounds dipping the tips of his nails in a crimson substance that was still warm.

He glowed, as he healed- he always did. But his hands felt warmer than usual and when he felt it was time, he pressed his hands into the bloody wound that no longer poured blood- for there was no blood to pour. Wil drained himself, trying to heal what he could but it was to no avail- this child had died. There was nothing Will could give.

But he refused to let this be it- It couldn't be! The Gods couldn't let this child die, they were not a soldier- they were a child for god's sake!

So after he had given everything- all the healing power that he had been blessed with by his father, he found himself with his hands pressed into the lifeless body of the child. And slowly, as he weeped over their corpse, with every drip of his tears, he felt a little more of life ease into the child again. And so he bellowed.

He cried and let the tears pour into the wounds, healing, no- bringing the child back to life. They steamed down his face as he mourned as grievers do. He clutched at the child’s chest that no longer beat and he felt the life before his grow stronger. He heard a little ‘ba-dum’.

Then, the soldier opened their eyes and took a deep inhale.

There was clapping and laughter and crying as people across the infirmary watched the miracle being performed by the Head Healer.

Will felt a smile across his face. While he felt weak, so very weak, he felt pride as he looked at the child, who bleated as they choked air into their lungs like a new born baby goat, their cheeks rosy again.

And then he felt pain. Excruciating pain. It twisted and burned. He heard screaming, the scream of a mother who has lost their child before realising that it was his own voice- his hands, once covered in the blood of the child shot to clutch at his chest only to feel a warm thick liquid coat his hands like water running out of a tap.

He gasped for air. Urgent hands were on him, lifting him onto a stretcher as people immediately fell silent. The room, celebrating moments ago, fell into a trance watching. The healers worked desperately, tearing open Will’s clothes, working as fast as they could.

Will coughed and coughed and as the blood stained his lips he let out a small smile. His small smile turned into a laugh covered with his coughing which only forced up more of the substance as it trickled slowly down his chin.

“Will? Will?” Kayla asked desperately, watching him choke. His lips turned crooked as his face paled, displaying his freckles dusted across his nose and cheeks.

“Please frame these last words: Fuck the Gods,” He whispered, content with his last moments before he suddenly shot open his eyes as he recalled that he had forgotten something. “ Oh- and tell Nico that I love him and that jazz.”

His voice was weak and the blood began to dry on his hands.

“Tell me what?” A confused, alarmed and horrified voice echoed from the other side of infirmary belonging to a warrior holding their helmet under their arm and stygian iron sword in their hand.

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existtolaugh · 3 years

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Had a prompt idea and managed to find an hour or two between breaks at work and my commute to write a short little story. It is not proofread or as long as most of my other works, but I was inspired and wanted to write this after seeing the movie. This does contain some spoilers from Black Widow.

Giggles 04 - Natasha and Yelena

"I - No, Yelena, you're doing it wrong. Here, use your other arm - No, your OTHER other arm..! I.."

"I think it looks better than yours, if I'm being honest."

It was a busy few days for the Black Widows, but after all the fighting and running that they have had to endure, they forgot that it was possible to have fun every now and again. Sure, maybe they should be planning how to break Alexei out of prison, but one thing lead to another and Yelena insisted she could perform a better three point pose than Natasha herself.

"No, it doesn't. If you push up with that arm, you aren't going to have enough balance. It isn't about looking good when you land, it's about getting back up." Natasha tried to explain to the younger Widow.

"So you're telling me that you Avengers aren't constantly thinking about how you are going to look on the covers of magazines and television? Natasha, you can't fool me." Yelena retorted as she tried to keep optimal balance in her three-point pose just to defy her sister's advice and prove her wrong.

"Well, when you save the world multiple times, you don't have the energy to think about fashion all that much." Natasha tried to explain to her wobbling sister. "I can tell." Yelena spoke. "After all, I'm the one with the stylish AND practical vest." She smiled.

"It's tacky."

"Got more pockets that you." She shrugged, almost completely falling over and losing her balance at the notion. Luckily, Natasha was there to catch her sister, hands pressed against her sides to ensure she wouldn't fall on her face.

..Which caused the younger of the two to shoot up with a soft gasp.

Natasha blinked, thinking at first she just startled her sister. But no, that wasn't it.. All of a sudden, some memories began to wake up in her mind that she had forgotten about after all these years..

Memories of play fighting with Yelena in their childhood home of Ohio. While Natasha would usually win, having already been trained as a Black Widow, she would occasionally let Yelena win just to make her feel good.

But she would never, ever let Yelena win when it came to their favorite sport, which was tickle fighting..

"Yelena..?" Natasha asked, her sister turning around to face her, doing her best to keep her composure and play it cool after her reaction. "I.. Yeah? What is it?"

"Do you remember, when we were kids.. We would play a game.." Natasha smiled a little bit, Yelena's cheeks darkening and trying to avoid the topic which she knew her sister was trying to get at. "I was very young. I do not remember such.. Such trivial details!" She said, which caused Natasha to smile a little wider. "Are you sure? Because I remember your favorite game.." She took a step towards her sister..

But Yelena would not be caught off guard so easily..

Already reaching for Natasha's arm, Yelena tried to pull her sister in and drag her to the ground. Both Widows since arriving at their safe house had stripped of their jumpsuits, and were in more casual attire. Both in tank tops, socks and pajama bottoms, which had swayed in the air as Yelena tried to flip her sister onto her back, though Natasha would not be taken down so quickly and easily..

Wrapping her legs around Yelena's arm, she pulled her down with her and pinned that arm with her legs, leaving her sister with only one arm to defend herself with, though Natasha was swift and managed to pin the flailing arm above Yelena's head.. In their tussle, it caused Yelena's top to rise and expose her stomach.. And left Natasha with one free hand, wiggling her red nails above the belly of her younger sister..

"I..! You release me this instant..! I'll.. I'm not even ticklish anymore..! Those childish games don't matter..!" Yelena said, her belly sinking in as much as possible as if to defend itself from the ever approaching claw of doom.. "Uh-huh. Theeeeen this won't bother you?" Natasha smiled before her nails struck their target, the right side of Yelena's exposed tummy, causing a squeak to slip through her lips, trying to roll onto her side and keep composure before cracking..

But Natasha's hands were more dedicated than Yelena's lips.. Which began to slip into a wider and wider smile, before the unthinkable happened..

..She began to giggle..

"Cuhut.. Ihit ohohohout..!~" Yelena snorted, Natasha's nails skittering closer to the middle of her sister's belly in retaliation to her sign of resistance. "Say I win." Natasha said, wanting to retain her undefeated streak of tickle fights with her sister. "NOHO! I wihill ehEHENDUHUHURE FAHAHAR WOHohorse tohohorture behefore ahahadmiHIHITTING SUHUCH LIHIhihies!"

"That never stopped me before." Natasha teased, deciding how is the perfect opportunity to use one of her secret weapons. Leaning down, she puckered her lips and blew a massive raspberry right on Yelena's helpless belly button, and her expression said it all. Eyes closed in a howl of silent laughter, the wheezing Widow arched her back and kicked her legs before losing herself in a fit of fulfilling and adorable laughter. "NOHOHO! N-Nahahatahasha wahahAHAHAI -"

She was cut off by yet another raspberry, her lungs unable to make a sound to properly exemplify how the ticklish girl felt, but the way her stomach quivered, the way she shivered, the shaking of her legs, it told a story of a girl who has not been tickled in over twenty years and forgot how ticklish, yet in love with the sensation, she was.

For a moment she felt like a little girl back in Ohio. For a moment she looked up at her blue-haired older sister. For a moment she heard Don McLean on the radio. For a moment she even saw their mother, or as she was known to the girls as the mighty tickle momster, sneaking in to join in the pile of ticklish fun the girls were having, only to exhaust themselves and fall asleep in a cuddle puddle on the floor.

She had forgotten those wonderful memories, and it took Natasha to remind her of these things.

But she was an adult now.

And she could fight back.

Natasha had let her guard down just long enough for Yelena to shoot her legs up and wrap them around her sister's body and arms, rolling her onto her back and pinning her down. Natasha was so distracted with tickling the younger woman, she had forgotten how formidable of a fighter she had grown up to be.. "I.. Wait, Yelena..! Okay maybe we've horsed around enough..! We should get back to work an - "

"Nyet." Was all Yelena said, smiling and digging into her sister's hips, causing her to instantly enter a fit of squealing and wiggling, tugging at her arms trapped between her sister's legs, if not to fight back AT LEAST cover her face to hide her burning cheeks from the teasing smile that was looking right at her. "Come on. Fight back. The big bad Avenger can't handle a little tickling? You have beaten gods, robot armies, S.H.I.E.L.D., even. Why can't you take your younger sister tickling you?"

Yelena was loving this, and Natasha could tell, even as she struggled wildly to rescue her hips from the dreaded assault they had no option but to endure." YOHOU.. AHAH WEHEHE NEHEED TOHO FOHOCUS!" She tried to explain through her laughter, hands flapping to try and reach Yelena's hips. "We didn't need to focus when you were tickling me. Maybe you should learn to focus. What's our next move, huh?"

Natasha couldn't believe she was stuck in this situation. She couldn't believe it even more when Yelena began to squeeze right into her thighs. "AAGGHH! STAHAHAP! WAHAIT I..!" "You what? Give up?"

Natasha was willing to do a lot to get Yelena to stop, but under NO circumstances would she give up. Not to Yelena. Not to somebody she has never, ever lost a tickle fight to. Managing to barely squeeze a hand free, she went for the one spot she knew she could win..

Yelena was too distracted to notice at first, but when she felt Natasha wrap an arm around her ankles she almost panicked. Toes curled in their socks, Yelena had to act fast.. And dove for Natasha's ankles.. Both girls managing to lock each other's feet in headlocks, once more finding themselves on equal footing - no pun intended.

Natasha peeled off the socks before her, trying to act quickly, knowing that she had to get Yelena to surrender first before her own soles were attacked. Feeling the cool breeze brush against her toes was warning enough that Yelena had ripped those socks off and it was all or nothing now..

Natasha went right for the arches, scratching her nails in which elicited a shriek from Yelena's lips, which was almost as loud as the squeal that crawled out of Natasha's throat when Yelena skittered her nails into that bare heel, both girls rolling around on the ground, refusing to release each other, both girls wanting nothing more than to prove the superior fighter in the art of tickling. Both were so equally matched, but both had their own unique ways to fight back..

Natasha was so skilled, her nails sharper and more precise, as if every wrinkle was forced to be stimulated in the most ticklish ways possible. Yelena, however, was more frantic. Unpredictable. Darting back and forth between different spots on Natasha's feet, the older Widow unable to keep up with the frantic nature that she had to endure, even moreso when Yelena tried to press her own feet into Natasha's face to both hide her soles and to annoy the Avenger into surrender more quickly..

"YOHOU.. LEHET GOHOHO!"

"YOHOHOU FIHIRST! AAGGHH STAHAP!"

"YOHOU FIHIRST!"

"NOHO YOHOU FIHIRST!!"

One had to give, but neither one was willing to lose. Yelena couldn't lose, she had to prove herself to her sister. Natasha had to defend her streak. But only one was willing to go the extra mile to drive her sister crazy.

"N-NOHOHO! AAHHAHAH ST-STAHAP THAHAT! W-WAHAHAIT!!"

Once Yelena began to nibble into Natasha's toes, she had no idea how to react to this situation. She had been tortured, broken, and endured horrors beyond what she was capable of knowing how to cope with, yet still walked forward and tried to be the best person she could be.

But what she learned on this night was toe nibbling was something she had no idea how to handle.

"AAGGHHAHAHAH I GIHIVE I GIHIHIVE!! YOHOHOU WIHIHIN!~"

Yelena stopped, Natasha tapping out on the floor as the younger sister pulled her feet free.. Finally.. She had won.. Catching her breath and laying across the calves of her fallen foe.. Smiling and turning her head to look at her..

Both girls were tired, their hair stuck to their face.. But they smiled at each other.. "Who's.. Ahah.. Who's the winner now..?~" Yelena asked, panting as Natasha chuckled.. "Fine.. Yohou are the behetter tickle master.. I hehereby grant you the rank of Master Tickler.." Natasha said with a smile, for the first time in a while just feeling happy to be with somebody who she could consider family..

"Good.. Now say my vest is cool.." Yelena added, Natasha shaking her head before laying it back down on the floor.. "Yeah, no.." She said..

She was then laughing her head off when Yelena went back to nibbling and scratching those sensitive soles of the Avenger.. "OKAHAY OKAHAHAY IHIT'S COHOOL!!~"

It wouldn't be too long after this that they would fall asleep in each other's arms on the floor, very much like they did when they were little girls..

Little did the Widows know, they would once again enter combat with the mighty Tickle Momster in the not too distant future..

#tickle #tickling #Black Widow #Natasha Romanoff #Yelena Belova

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biremmdbeautywellness · 3 months

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