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cherrsnut · 3 months

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Hostage - Chapter 1

Finnick Odair x Healer!Reader

Summary: Up until now, your life has been a solitary one. Being the sole owner of an herbal shop, and apothecary to many fishermen who have been injured. Just when your life seemed to follow the routine you were so used to, your life turns a 360 when you’re suddenly taken away for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. This turn of events forces you to accept the idea the Grim Reaper is stalking close behind you, faster than you had hoped for.

Tags: Extremely Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Typical THG Violence, Forced Prostitution, Forced Lab Rat, Injury, Mental Health Deterioration, Psychological/Physical Torture, Death, Alcohol/Drug Consumption, Medical Malpractice, Fluff (bc they deserve it).

Word Count: 3.8k

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Chapter 1

Silence echoed throughout the walls of the streets, and for once it looked like the town had been abandoned, just like everybody had agreed to up and leave it in search of a better fate than what lay ahead of them, or perhaps all the citizens just simply vanished from sight. The breeze of the sea, just as icy as the ocean, seemed to catch on with the mournful mood of the alleyways. The tense atmosphere signaled the hidden mice to not even voice a squeak out of respect.

Even at the plaza, everyone was quiet, and their usually lively ambiance ceased to exist. Just by the sight of the ocean, you noticed just how the wind didn’t spare any mercy for all the attendees of the Reaping. Making this already melancholic ambiance much harder to ignore.

You looked around and followed behind the big agglomeration of people queuing up, making another step further into Panem’s hell. You pursed your lips together and gulped down nervously, patiently awaiting your death sentence.

There were people everywhere, too many people for it to be so quiet to your liking. Although the great majority were adolescents of the oceanic village, you had previously realized the older folks stood far behind you, their suppressed anxiety over their children’s safety due to the men in white, the Peacekeepers, stance in front of them. Their threatening military pattern removed any type of confidence of any caregiver to sneak in and take their child away without facing heavy repercussions. Stationed there to install and make the proceedings of the Hunger Games go as smoothly as possible from outside the Capitol.

The sea of heads that appeared in front of you made the stage barely visible, but you came across what looked like a Peacekeeper setting up a camera, of course, the Reaping was to be live-streamed. Just on top of a platform and above the stage, you were sure the crystal lenses would take up the view of all the adolescents present.

“Everything will be alright” You turned to look beside you, surprised to find a voice breaking the quietness you were starting to getting used to and assume it would prevail for the rest of the annual event. At least before the cries of children as they break their realization of being chosen, or the burning point of a mother’s distress breaks out in a horrible scream.

You assumed it was a pair of siblings, taking notice of the facial traits to be almost identical. Very blonde locks, both wearing the same warm coffee color eyes with freckles of the same hue spotted all other cheeks. And while they represented themselves in the body of the other gender, you found the boy to look somewhere about your age, his sister was a head smaller than him, and you thought it was plausible she just came of age for the nauseating event.

“I promise” he made an oath to his sister, interlocking his finger with hers. She breathed heavily, the limit of her sanity crossing over a soon-to-be panic attack. She tried to fixate her eyes on him, fighting off a barrier to gain herself back together, a battle she looked like she was going to lose. Her brother, which you finally recalled his name to be Philip, crouched down and enveloped her in his arms. An arm protectively around her back, while the other moved around her head in an attempt to massage it to calm her down.

Even in his arms, the little girl was visibly trembling, probably both from the fear and anxiety, that were purging an acidic bile up to her taste glands. The little girl’s forehead pressed on her brother's chest, finding comfort in his protective body.

“Just breathe deeply, ‘kay?” he reassured. His hard fingers were full of little lines of scars, some of which you could recall treating at the herbal shop, and crept up to hold her face. Philip always found himself surrounded by District’s 4 aquaculture, and it was bound to happen after long shifts handling the wires of the nets to eventually cause multiple physical damages.

Philip removed himself from the little girl and looked at her features. She struggled to do so, every time she tried she’d be under attack from another uncontrollable shaking. She could only grab onto his shirt, the shaking becoming increasingly harder with each passing second. The hand that was used to the hard labor of the sea, wrapped itself on top of his sister’s hand, much bigger in comparison. The warmth of their bond calmed her down just slightly, and he went to kiss her forehead affectionately.

“I’m here” his whisper was carried by the breeze that brushed her ear, which tickled her slightly. Upon noticing your heavy stare on them, Philip looked over to you. Both of your eyes interlock with each other. You tried to give him an encouraging smile, but the heavy situation still weighed you down, and your smile came across as a sad one. One that showed pity and understanding toward his sister.

He gave you a knowing look, before his eyes went to his sister, and suffocated further in his embrace to help her to get back to the queue. “I’m here” he repeated.

The stern voice of a woman, announcing a “next” brought you back to reality. You’d forgotten just how the line always moved rather fast, especially so when you had a tendency to drown yourself in self-pity. You were always alone while queuing up to sign in, and never had people you called friends. But you were content with the short company clients or injured patients gave you, just like Edna’s until she died. But you did wonder how it would feel in this moment to be in the company of another person, would you cry together? Maybe hug each other? Or maybe just stay silent unable to utter anything that wasn’t bitter. But this year you felt differently, you wished for the little girl’s safety just like your own.

You gave your hand to the Peacekeeper just as you told her your name, and she took it with the rubber texture of the black-gloved hand of hers. The way she held it was rather rough, but you understood it as wanting to keep you completely still for the pinch in your finger and not mess it up. The end of the buzzing sound coming from the long mechanism suggested the dna withdrawal was finished, accompanied by the slight pain of the tiny nick, so small you’d never consider it an injury.

The Peacemaker guided your finger, a blood drop visible forming, and pressed it on top of the inky empty box drawn on a piece of paper. Your name was attached next to it, with your general information written in smaller letters below it. You assumed the pieces of paper that were attached just like a book, were the enlistment of the possible Tributes of your District. But then again, you didn’t care enough and let that thought drift away just as fast as it came.

Another mechanism, this one much larger and formed just like a box had been stepped and decided to stay in that flat shape. A laser came from the bottom, scanning the blood accompanied by the noisy sounds of mechanical beepings. When it was all set, the Peacemaker simply bid you farewell and called for the child behind you.

You left defeated, another step closer to the selection process. The idea of you being chosen terrified you, and you could feel the anxiety taking hold of your bones. You prayed again in self-pity. Edna always mentioned the idea of sirens existing, and while you never truly believed in it, you prayed for them to listen to you. Every time, at the Reaping, for the past four years you prayed for them.

With an exasperated sigh flying out, you walked around the plaza trying to find a place to stand by and wait for your trial. That was until a hand tapped your shoulder and a raspy voice called out your name. You turned, even more surprised to find Philip along with his sister, both holding hands.

You looked at the boy standing in front of you, expectant as to why he had called you. He gave a quick glance to the little blonde beside him before he spoke.

“Hey, umm, you mind taking Emi with you?” your eyes trailed off to the girl, finally being able to give her face a name. Emi looked at the floor, a mortifying expression coming across her face.

“It’s just-” he tried to continue his explanation.

“Sure” you smiled at the girl gripping onto dear life to her brother. You took out your hand for her, and with unsettlement pumping over her brain, she brushed her finger across yours.

“So, Emi is your name” The statement oddly sounded like a question, but you wanted to make her feel more comfortable even in this terrible situation. To communicate with her, and make her see you as someone she could trust momentarily before she would hopefully turn back with her brother.

Her crystal eyes moved up to you and murmured an mhm before walking indecisively toward you. She looked at the ground when you told her your name, but you couldn’t feel any type of annoyance by it, not when her hands were trembling exaggeratedly. So you squeezed hers lightly in an attempt to make her feel more at ease in your presence.

Philp sighed and you noticed the heavy burden that lifted off of him. He gave you a small smile, the one he hadn’t reciprocated before.

“Thank you” his eyes shone, which only suggested to you the tears he wanted to pour out in that moment. You empathized with him, he probably didn’t have much time to take in the Reaping for himself, and rather give away his attention to his sister who needed him to be strong in her stead. A thought appeared one which you respected and showed sympathy for the mental work they put in for the sake of the younger family members.

“Don’t mention it” you smiled with him. You rolled your eyes at the girl holding your hand, and with the same smile, you muttered. “Let’s go Cupcake”

“Hello Cuties” Sing sang the woman on stage. Her peculiar fashion style nationally known for the Capital’s trends flied around with her sparkling personality. With the color theme of purple pink and pale yellow, shades lighter of the sunflower petals, she wore a design that resembled a kimono. The notable way how the coat of the fabric was placed on top of the other to keep it in a steady place, and with the addition of the belt, covering the whole of the waist until just below her chest, as a means to keep the clothing stuck and not untie itself. The completely yellow obi, name of the kimono belts, was adorned with some sort of lacing at the top and bottom of purplish-dyed sheep wool, with the addition of a pink bow wrapped around the obi.

The star of the fashion design was the sleeves. With a hole showing the shoulders and a few inches down the arm, the rest was covered in the beautiful colors of the spring. With many odd shapes and colors on the fabric. Which later opened up its sleeves up to three feet long. It gave off the impression of wings when the arms were pulled up. The rest seemed to just be decorations around her figure, from a fabric choker of purple as well as the striking head ornaments of the same color scheme presented.

Her voice was too optimistic for your liking, and the singing tunes brought up were as distasteful as her color choice.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be in your favor” The District 4 escort celebrated baring her teeth out with that pink tint across her lips, the same tint that decorates her eye shadow.

“But before we begin, The Capitol has brought us a special film for us” she again songed, and you were already starting to be filled with the irritation of her voice.

Emi was still holding your hand. She had kept a close distance from you, practically stuck to your form from the moment we were placed here. She tugged onto your long skirt, and you looked down to find her somber eyes looking up at you. Although you agreed to stay by her side, her added melancholy was starting to affect your already distressed mood, and even though you tried to calm her down she seemed focused on her overwhelmed state.

You smiled at her, with the film starting in ahead of you.

“War. Terrible war” You rolled your eyes up while making a hand movement in a sign to poke fun at President Snow’s repeated speech. Your mock seemed to finally crack a little smile on the little girl, and you were pleased to see her relax a tiny bit.

The film carried on, and your attention span had been but all gone. The Hunger Games were a devastating reality, that had already taken hundreds of children away. You couldn’t see the point of this little speech anymore, and right before the selection process at that. And it seemed Snow was trying to ridicule the Distrct’s anxiety. It exhausted you to no end to have to listen to the same words and the same images, and it got you wondering just why it had to be the same recycled film every single year.

You thought of Emi again. The very same thought appeared every single year, just why were we taking the consequences of a revolution none of us partook in? The only person that you knew who was alive from when the Revolution was still afloat was Edna, and she still lamented that she was just a child when it ended, and luckily enough she never got chosen as Tribute. And that thought only led to helplessness because even though it wasn’t in the least bit fair, there was nothing you nor anyone who would be able to do anything about it.

“The lone victor, bathed in riches, would serve as a reminder of our generosity and our forgiveness” It was the voice of a pragmatic leader giving a speech, sprinkled with sentimental music that made your stomach stir uncomfortably. The crease in your eyebrow knitting as you tried to forget the nauseating feeling from inside you, represented exactly in your self turmoil, you were disgusted.

You gulped down hard as the film finally ended. You gave Emi a quick squeeze to comfort yourself. She only gave you a pointed glance before directing her attention to the colorful escort on the stage.

“Alrighty. Now the time has come for us to select one courageous young man and woman” she informed, as you bit back your tongue to correct her misuse of words of man and woman for children.

“For the honor of representing District 4 in the 67th Annual Hunger Games” she continued. She then started walking over the large crystal sphere. Inside laid the names of all the girls that had been forced to sign in, inside a folded piece of paper. “Ladies first” she giggled further.

Her hand moved around the pieces of paper messily scattered around the sphere before choosing one. She quickly picked it up to her eye level, a sneaky smile appearing on her face.

You let out a breath, you had done your best to try and calm your nerves. The anxiety was way past the boiling point, and you swore your legs felt drunk.

The escort walks back to the microphone, and the only thing missing for her to further mock your emotions was to make a little dance around the platform, kick up some moves, or simply jump in excitement.

She opened the piece of paper. Your heart beating fast in the back of your throat, as another wave of anxiety filled every single pore in your skin. Her long nails made it difficult for her to open it, and as time passed on, you could feel yourself growing insane. You internally cursed at the escort, every cell in your body screaming at her to just finally read it. And before you knew it she called out a name, your name.

Everything just stopped in you, and if it weren’t because you’d be a dead corpse from organ malfunction, you could’ve sworn your heart just stopped. Your eyes were locked on the colorful woman, but you weren’t looking at her. You were staring into space, you were trying to assimilate the situation you just got yourself involved. But you couldn’t, there was something in you, and that something didn’t connect the wires that you were going to die sooner than you hoped for. The idea of being picked for the annual event was always at the back of your mind, what would be your reaction? You thought that rationally, you’d be upset, maybe crying as well, or perhaps straight screaming and begging to do a re-drawl.

But you weren’t, you were simply still. The look of every girl that had known you looking at you, and it wasn’t melancholy that invaded their intense gaze, but rather they were grateful they weren’t the ones chosen. As hypocritical as it made you, you were mad at them. Your internal anger was justified in your eyes, maybe because you needed someone or something to be mad at. But no matter how irritated you were, you’d done the same in their stead the previous three years you had attended the Reaping.

With another exhale, you came to yourself. You needed to get on the stage. You walked out to the corridor, but barely made a step when Emi tugged back on your fingers. Her eyes were scanning your facial expression. And the way she spoke your name suggested to you, she was beyond her shocked stage.

You gulped another chunk of saliva and got to your knees. You smiled at her, as brightly as you could force it out. And it occurred to you to close your eyes, because you knew you couldn’t force a reassuring look without the fear lurking behind it.

The military steps of the Peacekeepers echoed within every corner of your body so quickly and in a rushed matter. You kissed her forehead, as gentle as a flying feather, to put her at ease.

“I’ll be fine, Cupcake,” you told her as confident as possible, trying not to let the fear accumulated in you spill over the beautiful young girl. And so you stood up, another quick smile flashing over your face before walking the hall that would send you straight to a living Hell. You kept muttering those words “I’ll be fine” as if you wanted to console yourself unknowingly. For now, if lying to yourself is what kept you sane enough to act normally, even suspiciously so, you’d go for it. And once the situation avalanched over your entity, you could collapse and lament for yourself on your own.

You held your head high while walking, your form an empty shell void of any emotions. The very pink hue colored on the escort’s face became clearer with each step, she smiled brightly at you. The wrinkles shown at the corner of her eyes signal of her enjoyment.

“Wonderful! We have our female Tribute for District 4!” playfully expressed the escort, looking straight at your eyes. You walked up the stairs, with Peacekeepers in tow behind you.

The escort held up a hand to you, helping you get up faster, so she could back to her selecting process, although this time it would be a boy. All in her chillingly joyful manner.

Without hesitation, she placed the mic in front of you.

“So, dear, tell me, was that your sister?” she asked you, although it seemed she was asking on behalf of the whole Capitol.

“No…” your voice was weak, the intimidating audience just looked up at you which worsened your nauseating bitter taste. The escort eyed you, waiting for any further explanation.

“She’s my… friend” Her impatience only made your voice quieter, which she must have been content that your husky and throaty tone was speaking through the loud microphone.

The sudden realization came crashing now. Seeing the look of pitied people just below you, wishing you luck before you left for the Capitol, filled the shining of water in your sclera and, you hand was lightly shaking beside your thigh.

“Everyone, please! A round of applause for our lovely Tribute!” she called your name again. Her clapping was soon stopped at the awkwardness that she was the only one celebrating this. You breathed in and out heavy air.

“And now, for the gentlemen” announced the woman standing beside you. Of course, she was trying to salvage the situation. You looked at everyone, and they were all looking back at you. You were lucky enough to connect eyes with Philip, and while you never considered him to be a friend, you were happy to see a familiar face. He was the only one to provide you with that comfort. He looked like he wanted to say something through his eyes, and you responded with a tear swimming down your cheek, and following its path further down your neck.

“Vito Rosechaser” was called. The look of another adolescent, about your age or older roamed around his fellow friends, that gave him a sad look. He opened his mouth, surprised, and as the situation sunk deep into him, he walked down the hall, again with the Peacekeepers around him like frustrating flies.

Just then you’d taken in his appearance, from afar his eyes seemed dark just like his hair. Big build and muscles that suggested he’d worked hard in his life, and you lamented that he propably didn’t deserve this.

You looked at Vito at the end of the stairs, and his eyes briefly grazed yours before he stopped to look at the public. The mic was stolen from you.

“And finally” the hyper tone echoed throughout the plaza, loud enough to quiet down the crashing waves of the beach nearby. The breeze cold as snow felt like it had punctured your veins, and that icy hurt traveled through your body.

“Our Tributes from District 4” her white teeth never failed to show at the camera.

“Come on you two, shake hands” The oddly dressed woman grabbed onto the hems of your and Vito’s shirts, encouraging you two to do the action and let it be over. She stepped back, and the both of you looked at each other before gripping both of your hands.

“Happy Hunger Games!” she sang happily. It echoed in every single rib, deep inside your abdomen. A voice you’d never forget, you were sure of that. Even long after the Games, if you’d even be able to survive, you’d be waking up with this chilling lullaby she was singing.

“And remember, may the odds be ever in your favor”

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#finnick #thg finnick #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #the hunger games #thg #thg x you #thg fanfiction #thg x reader

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icequeenbae · 8 months

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You Bet Your Ass (m) | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Established Relationship, PWP, slice of life, fluff, smut

Warnings: explicit content, unprotected sex, anal (m receiving while being a drama queen about it), sex toys (picture fluffy tail butt plugs)

Word Count: ~3.6k

Summary: Baekhyun realizes that betting his ass for a petty argument with his partner was moronic. He is a man of his word though. He will follow through.

Author’s note: Yay, it’s time to celebrate another milestone!! Thank you guys for joining me on this wild ride haha I hope you enjoy this little somethin’ bbhorny times detected lmao This would be a little different rip Baek's ass but I just wrote that on a whim in a couple of days and thought it’s great for the occasion. Let me know if you enjoyed it!

Tags: @k-vanity @exo-writers-net @bbh-net @superm-net

Baekhyun’s eyes were rounder than the moon when he realized that he was wrong.

You were having a very out of the blue argument just the other day, and the fatal words had escaped his mouth.

‘Can you bet your ass that you’re right?’

It wasn’t even a real issue to fight about. The reason you got so fired up over nothing was alcohol, of all things. Neither one of you was willing to let it go and leave the other one having the last word, so...

Baekhyun fucked up.

‘When we confirm that I’m right, I’ll shove the fluffiest puppy dog tail butt plug up your ass and have you call me master.’

Baekhyun royally fucked up.

‘Might clamp your cute little nipples too.’

Baekhyun dug his own grave.

‘Or I will shove it up yours and have you eat your words.’ You simply rolled your eyes at him then, and to a clueless spectator it could seem like you’d forget about this petty argument by tomorrow.

But there you were the next day, standing right in front of your bed and drilling Baekhyun’s bloodless face with your eyes.

‘I told you it wasn't Bugatti. It’s number two on the list.’

Baekhyun was almost glad that you enunciated that, because he couldn’t see the screen in front of him. He stayed still for a bit, as if his soul had fled from his body, leaving him behind as a lifeless shell. His head was a vacuum, and his usually quick-witted mind was failing him at this crucial point of his existence. A few more moments passed before he slowly looked up at you, like a bashful child.

‘Heh,’ he laughed awkwardly, and you only offered him a perfunctory smile. ‘Rolls-Royce Boat Tail is more expensive? It seems like I’ve- made a mistake?’

‘You were totally wrong.’ You responded mercilessly, making him shudder.

‘Babe-’

‘Oh no. Forget it.’ You raised your palm, cutting him off. ‘I had to listen a-a-all night how ‘fun’ it’s gonna be for you to see me all fluffy-tailed and roughed up.’

‘I said no such thing!’ Baekhyun shrieked, quickly catching himself as you gave him a look. ‘Babe…’

‘Did you not?’ You huffed, crossing your arms on your chest. ‘I assume you also do not recall running your mouth about my nipples?’

Baekhyun licked his lips nervously and swallowed.

He remembered. He remembered how he initiated his own demise. Was he for real? And for such a nonsensical argument too…

Baekhyun dropped on his knees right in front of you, and you almost jumped from the sound of him crashing on the floor so dramatically.

‘Y/N-ie, I was in the wrong.’ He said, hugging your legs. ‘I’m sorry.’

When your ass is on the line, nothing would be beneath you, not even begging, right?

However, this did not faze you at all. You were so used to his antics that it only made you even more determined not to let him off the hook.

‘Oh, but Baekhyunie… What should we do? You’ve already purchased the device for the execution.’

This was the reason why Baekhyun avoided drinking as best he could. He didn’t just get himself into the most ridiculous entanglements, he also acted whimsically on his urges. Say, going to a specialized shop to buy the fluffiest looking tail butt plug and a pair of fluffy ears to match. He went as far as to tell the poor cashier that he was going to put it to very good use.

Well, he didn’t specify on whom.

‘Worry not, my love. I got some nipple clamps and a collar to complete your-’

‘Ba-abe-’ He muttered desperately into your thigh, hugging your hips even tighter. ‘Please, I can’t do it…’

‘Why is that?’ You huffed, although unable to resist the temptation to ruffle his soft blonde hair with your right hand.

‘I just can’t,’ he whined childishly, offering no reasoning.

‘It’s funny how you assumed that I was gonna do it the second we ‘confirm’ that you’re right. And now you’re a groveling mess at a mere thought, and I’m supposed to be the better man?’

Baekhyun knew you were right.

He also knew that if he whined for a bit longer, you would probably leave him be. But your words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was pretty obnoxious about this when you made the damn bet, and he was the one who initially suggested the punishment. And he was so sure he was right that he didn’t even try for a second to step into the loser’s shoes. He didn’t think it through, and now he had to stand by his word and meet his fate like a man. This was only fair to you. Maybe a little less fair to his butt.

You craned your neck forward to peek when Baekhyun became silent for too long. He did make you kinda angry earlier, you weren’t gonna lie, and you were almost determined to make him suffer for it. But he was still your partner, and you loved him. So, when you noticed that he was getting way too stressed about it, your hand moved smoothly to pet his hair calmingly.

‘Baekhyun-ah…’

‘I’ll do it.’ He said curtly.

His voice sounded small and dispirited, and it took you another second to catch his meaning.

‘Huh?’

This time, he made an effort to sound more confident.

‘I said, I’ll do it.’

That exchange took place last week. And he still couldn’t do it.

He made an unenthused attempt on that very day, actually. Made a huge mess on the bed, trying to utilize massage oil to get himself ready. Instead, he simply oiled up all of the sheets, and his entire body, and didn’t manage to get the butt plug anywhere near his ass. He was screeching and wailing and groaning – all that without getting it even 0.1 inch in.

You felt like watching it was worse than just doing it yourself.

‘Babe, just give up. I don’t want you to suffer like this.’

‘No. I said I’ll do it, so I will, I just need to prepare. Shall we reschedule for Saturday?’

He had probably hoped that Saturday would never arrive, but it did. And even then, he had yet to muster the courage to take on his punishment with dignity.

But it’d been an hour, and you were getting tired of watching him huffing and puffing, crying about the injustices of life and his poor asshole. He was buck naked the entire time too.

‘I’m also cold… Why is it so cold in our house? Can’t we afford heating? I should try and earn more money…’

You sighed.

‘Baekhyun, it’s not gonna work.’ You stretched your arms and legs before sitting down next to him. ‘Either quit it or let me do it for you.’

‘You? Do it for me?’ He shook his head. ‘Impossible. I’d like to preserve at least some dig-’

‘Lie flat on your belly. Right now.’ You ordered strictly.

‘Yes, ma’am.’

You smiled at his sudden obedience. He obviously trusted you to help him get it over with, but preferred to be strongarmed into doing this. To preserve some ‘dignity’.

‘Just relax, baby. You’re way too tense.’

Climbing on top of him, you poured some of that massage oil onto his bare back. You ran your palms up along his spine smoothly, and Baekhyun grunted like an old man.

‘God, you are just one giant knot.’ You muttered, putting a little more force into it.

Another muffled grunt escaped his mouth, this time sounding a bit more like a moan.

‘Here, here, grandpa. You can entrust yourself to me. Both your back and your butt.’

He grumbled into the pillow, and you could not make out his words. Instead, you went up his shoulders to knead the back of his neck. This spot was always sore, and he did not surprise you by suddenly going tense and groaning loudly before deflating into a lax mess.

‘You know what, Y/N…’ He mumbled between sighs of contentment. ‘You can fuck me in my ass right now and I won’t object.’

‘That’s the plan,’ you giggled, satisfaction washing over you just from seeing his reaction to your touch.

Of course, you knew all of his spots, both physical and emotional. It did not take you long to turn him into a whimpering puppy. The only thing missing was the tail.

‘Seriously though,’ Baekhyun spoke up hoarsely. ‘I think I’m getting hard.’

You tugged your shirt off and leaned onto his back, allowing him to feel your half-naked body.

‘Good for you,’ you purred into his ear, chuckling as he squirmed.

Hand snaking under his abdomen, you found yourself squeezing his length.

‘You’re not ‘getting hard’, baby. You are hard,’ you hummed, giving him a couple abrupt pumps before running your oily fingers over his lower stomach. ‘Let’s get you ready.’

Baekhyun whined and hugged his pillow, while you crawled towards the edge of your bed to get the discarded lube. When you shuffled closer to him again, you couldn’t resist slapping his cute round butt.

‘Ouch!’ He yelped just for the sake of it.

‘Don’t be so sensitive, sweetie,’ you mocked him lovingly.

‘You mean!’ He answered sulkily.

‘I am very nice! And I wouldn’t start a quarrel with me if I were you. My finger’s about to be shoved up your ass quite literally.’

He was whinging again, but quickly recollected himself, throwing a blue glove at your face.

‘At least use this.’

‘Are we playing doctor?’ You teased him lightheartedly.

‘Y/N, I’m gonna die. I’m literally dying.’

‘Okay, okay.’ You capitulated, putting the glove on. ‘Drama queen.’

It wasn’t like you were a pro in this either. He was the one who had put you in this position, not that you’d asked to do this. However, you did use the time in between his last attempt to pop his anal cherry and today to gather some helpful information. So, you were intending on using it to your benefit tonight.

‘You will like it more than me, that you can count on,’ you reassured him.

‘I seriously doubt it,’ he grumbled before jumping up. ‘Ah-ah-ah, what are you doing, I’m not ready!’

‘Sorry, I poured too much lube by accident,’ you smiled sheepishly. ‘Lie back down before it gets smeared all over the sheets.’

He kept complaining under his breath but obeyed.

‘Can you like… perk up your butt a little?’ You asked, trying to find a comfortable position to start.

‘No.’ He shot back unapologetically. ‘I’ll die.’

‘Why do you keep dying before anything happens?’ You reproached him. ‘You are such a pussy.’

Baekhyun turned his head around dramatically to glare at you.

‘What?’ You stared back. ‘Did I lie? Am I wrong?’

He turned back to his pillow and slightly repositioned himself, bending his right knee.

‘Good. Arch your back a little too.’ You pressed on his lower back, and he grumbled again.

‘You hate my guts, don’t you?’

‘I love you a million, baby.’ You replied with a smile, barely containing a schoolgirl giggle from locating his asshole. ‘Wow, I didn’t expect you to prepare. How neat.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ he replied, also laughing despite his embarrassment and frustration.

You traced his butt cheek with your index finger before rubbing his anus lightly.

‘Oh shit-’ He tensed up under the pad of your finger, and cursed again.

Giving him some time to adjust to the light strokes, you kept spreading lube over his sphincter.

‘Are you still dying, hon?’ You inquired. ‘Try to relax.’

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he gurgled into the pillow he kept holding onto.

‘We can stop if you-’

‘Just get it over with! And then I can proceed and finalize my death.’

‘What an honorable man,’ you noted sarcastically. ‘If you squeeze your butt like that, I won’t be able to do anything.’

He huffed like an intimidating hedgehog, and then sighed, giving up the last of his pride.

‘Okay. Just please don’t rip my ass.’

‘Have you seen the size of this plug? You’ll live.’

As soon as he relaxed enough for you to try something, you probed at his ring of muscles again. Praising him for keeping it more or less slack, you were able to insert one digit.

He was now only communicating in breathy curses, so you added more lubrication before slipping your finger out and inserting it back in just as carefully. It took a while for Baekhyun to get used to it and stop resisting the intrusion, and you were beginning to feel more and more like a doctor performing a procedure on him.

‘You’re doing great, baby. Two fingers in.’

‘Y/N… I can’t do this…’ He muttered feverishly, and you knew he didn’t mean it.

Frankly, he looked like he was simply in denial about enjoying this. But he had no idea that you would not rest until you found the most intriguing spot. It was the only reason you had agreed to the whole thing. You were curious about what would happen if you located it and stroked over it gently.

Like so.

‘A-a-ah!’ He jolted, and squeezed your fingers almost painfully.

‘What?’ You asked, unsure about his reaction.

‘That- what was that?’ He muttered, gripping the pillow case with his fist.

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It hurts now… But not before.’

‘It wouldn’t hurt if you relax! And I think it was your prostate. Didn’t know it’s that sensitive though.’

‘My wha-’

‘Can I stroke it again?’ You asked, enthusiasm reignited in you, despite getting rather stiff from the position you had to be in.

‘No! Leave my prostate alone,’ he barked, yet perked his ass up higher.

‘Getting mixed signals here. Should I read your ‘no’ as a ‘yes please’?’

‘Y/N…’ He whined, and you circled his spot again. ‘If you do, I think- I think I’m going to-’

‘Die?’

‘Come…’

You oh-ed in surprise. Not that you didn’t do your research, but the pace of this was unexpected.

‘Not yet. There’s one little thing left.’

You slowly slipped your fingers out of him, making him groan.

Finally, the intricate sex toy was in your hand, ready to be deployed. In several modes too, but your wrought-up partner didn’t need to know just yet. Thus, you had placed an important appliance under one of the pillows earlier.

After holding it for a few moments to make it comfortably warm – Baekhyun was a whiny little bitch, after all – you spread a sufficient amount of lube on it to make sure it’d fit easily.

Baekhyun could be heard cursing again.

‘Okay, come to momma.’

He emitted a growl, which thinned out into a whine.

You sat next to him and stroked his butt cheeks. Now that you were thinking of it, he would look pretty good with a fluffy tail. You didn’t know you had it in you, but now you certainly felt aroused at the thought of pulling at it as he fucked you. Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

‘Shit, it’s cold!’ He complained as soon as you pressed the metal body of the plug to his hole.

‘You are very high-maintenance, did you know that?’ You complained right back. ‘Take it if you wanna finish tonight.’

‘Why do you hate me so mu- a-ah-’

The plug slipped into him with much less resistance than you’d anticipated, and all that was visible now was the tail.

‘How is it?’ You asked, genuinely curious. ‘Baekhyunie? How does it feel?’

He kept breathing through it for another minute, and then managed to retort.

‘Like it doesn’t belong there…’ He tried to glance at his poor ass, but gave up halfway. ‘My life is a joke…’

‘I bet it is.’

He made an effort to glare at you.

‘Get over here.’ His angelic blond hair made him appear much less menacing than he wanted to.

You stretched out next to him, but not before removing the rest of your clothes to become equally as naked.

‘Fuck.’ Baekhyun cursed, burying his face in your breasts. ‘Remind me to never argue with you again, ever…’

‘I thought you were having fun,’ you ruffled his hair a bit, while he was letting you.

‘Yah. The pain in my butt hole isn’t really aligning with my idea of fun.’

You shoved him back slightly to get him off your chest, and groped his ass. The disturbance made him flinch, although not entirely displeased.

‘How would you react if I told you that this cute fluffy thing actually has a pretty handy remote?’

The blond looked confused, but only for a second – before you gripped at the base of his ‘tail’ and angled it.

‘Ah! Fuck this shit!’ Baekhyun moan-yelled, confirming that the toy was damn near his spot.

Chuckling at this, you leaned in to kiss his bare shoulder and reached under the pillow in the search of the said appliance.

‘There it is.’ You showed Baekhyun the remote. ‘I bet this will be nice.’

You clicked once, not giving your partner a chance to say anything.

‘Oh shit-’ He jolted in your arms, and clenched his jaw. ‘Y/N…’

‘I know, baby. I won’t ramp it up much.’ You promised, pressing your index finger to one of his nipples.

The tiny bud was firm, and you could see Baekhyun shiver from the touch.

‘Should’ve clamped them in the beginning…’ You mused, gradually increasing the vibration of the toy. ‘Does this feel alright?’

Baekhyun moaned in response.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ you snickered.

He didn’t let you laugh for much longer though, grabbing your waist and pushing you back down. Opening your legs roughly, he got between them and instantly pressed his hard cock against your labia.

‘Fucking hell-’ He gritted out, as soon as his hips snapped forward, disturbing the plug inside him.

‘This is kinda hot, I’m not gonna lie,’ you sighed, stroking his lower back. ‘Move or I will level your ass massage up again.’

‘Fuck no, I already feel like I could come…’ Baekhyun replied quickly, slowly retracting his pelvis before swaying it into you. ‘Shit, Y/N, it just feels so weird-’

‘Weird but nice, right?’ You lowered your hand to tug on his ‘tail’ again.

‘Oh god please-’ He sighed, dropping his head on your shoulder.

You could feel him shake every time you adjusted the toy. It was definitely affecting his prostate, and the sobbing he tried to muffle by your skin only confirmed it.

‘Babe,’ he moaned, renewing his slow thrusts into you. ‘You want my death or what?’

Snickering at his words, you playfully scratched his upper back with both hands.

‘Faster.’ You replied simply, grasping the remote again.

Baekhyun focused on delivering upon your request, and you physically shuddered with him. The vibration was quite literally driving him mad, so he was soon groaning in both pain and pleasure. His speech was incoherent, and you weren’t sure how many times you had clicked the button, but you could hear – almost feel – the vibration ripping through his tight muscles and abusing his prostate.

You knew his hips were moving on their own, more out of instinct rather than intent, but it was all fine. At this point, you just wanted him to finish. The buildup left both of you a complete mess, and the craving you had in you now was more of his euphoria, not yours.

‘I’m c- babe I’m-’ He tried to speak, but the intense sensation overwhelmed him to the point of squealing.

Readily clutching the remote, you pressed the button several times to avoid overstimulating him instead of prolonging his pleasure, and he still allowed a high-pitched whine to escape. He was trembling and writhing on top of you, and you could feel the hot creamy wetness pooling at your own entrance. The visual stimulation sent you into overdrive.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’ You moaned, eyes closing shut as you joined your partner in the oblivion.

It was at least half an hour later that you were finally able to untangle yourselves from each other, and free Baekhyun’s abused asshole. Not without him grunting and grumbling the entire time, of course.

‘Shit. I won’t be fucking sitting down for a fucking week.’ Your partner complained in a tired voice, flinching as his sphincter constricted again after the plug was removed.

‘Lying down is better anyways,’ you hummed, planting an impish kiss onto his butt cheek.

Baekhyun muttered something incoherent, and you were sure there was more diffident cursing in there.

You scooted closer to him and stroked his hair lovingly. Suddenly you realized that you did not employ all the inventory you had prepared.

‘Damn, we forgot about the ears and the collar too!’ You gasped. ‘Well, you can always wear them next time…’

You shrugged, trailing off, and turned to him, anticipating his reaction.

Baekhyun’s face assumed the most scandalized expression.

‘Next time?!’

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog, it is important to me and I appreciate your feedback💜 As usual, my asks are open~

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firewalkzwit · 10 months

Text

peace of mind // miguel o'hara x reader (4)

guys very minor detail but in this story i decided to errase the part where miles is an anomaly chased by the entire spider society bc i love him too much sorry :>

Masterlist

AO3 parallel

summary: In the eve of 2050, Spider-Woman is New York’s vigilante trying to maintain order in a revolting society, soon to collapse. The only reason to keep going is the hope for change, as the darkest hour is just before the dawn, but an unexpected turn of events will result in more than just New York to watch over.

(Contains some elements and references I gathered off other pieces of media to inspire the universe and, vaguely, the character.)

word count: 1.8k

Chapter 4

She turned and tilted her head at the sight of another Spider-Man in a pink robe and an empty baby carrier. "Don't freak her out like that Miguel, she'll run away from us!" The Spider-Man opened his arms as he chuckled trying to lighten the mood. He rested a hand on her shoulder "Don't worry, most of us aren't like him. I'm Peter, but I'm sure you guessed that.. Wow, you really are on the tall side, kinda' like Jess, huh Miguel?" Miguel sighed behind them, shaking his head in a theatric performance of exhaustion as he jumped up into the platform that had descended from the ceiling earlier. She introduced herself without opening up too much, trying to shake off the commotion of the sole idea of the canon itself. Behind Peter followed other Spider-People who gathered around her, checking out her suit and asking her all sorts of questions about her dimension and how she ended up there. She was soon warmed up by the feeling of their kind welcome, and a part of her felt very comforted by the existence of a place like the Spider-Society, where there was thousands of people who understood what being her felt like. Despite the uncanny nature of being united by being forced to live a series of events that more or less made them all the same person, it felt good to know she wasn't the only Spider. While she leaned more on the introvert side, she was very friendly and welcoming to those who approached, even having a sense of humor if one teased it out of her. As she held trivial dialogue and received more information that Miguel skipped mentioning about being a member of the Spider-Society, she analyzed everybody thoroughly, gathering information on their character based on how they composed themselves around her. While Peter was the first one of the group to approach her, he soon wandered off in the search of his newborn baby, which awoke brief curiosity in her given the fact that his unconventional fathering gave him the questionable idea to allow a baby to roam freely with web shooters of her own. Around her stood Gwen, Hobie, Pavitr and Miles. Visually, the most arresting was easily Hobie, his suit tuned up with uncountable punk accessories which reflected great fashion taste, vintage for someone from her times but a timeless sense of style nevertheless. Pavitr quickly caught onto her character and sarcastically pulled some humor out of her, which gave her a relieving sense of peace. Being able to laugh reminded her of how much she longed to interact with other people without her mask, even if her new acquaintances surged thanks to it, being able to hold a conversation of no grave significance with strangers felt like a breath of fresh air she would probably never get in her dimension, where people were increasingly reclusive and asocial, and those few who were close to her were no longer around. Miles was the youngest of them all, and radiated the same friendly energy that seemed to be able to get her to open up so fast and so easily, she unwinded with them like she'd known them for a while, which wasn't usual in her character. The fact that all these people had so much in common with her made her feel closer to them, even though they were still strangers. She however, felt the closest with Gwen out of all of them, easily attributed to the fact that she was the first Spider-Woman she got to talk to since she arrived. Whenever they crossed words they understood eachother, causing her to giggle under her breath in a contention of excitement.

Miguel seemed to have derivated the responsibility of dealing with her to the group, who assumed the implicit task with no opposition, touring her around the headquarters and giving her a more detailed tour around the place, allowing her a chance to also meet some of the other Spider-People in the way. She quickly gathered that Spider-Men named Peter Parker were an overwhelmingly common sight, which contrasted with how different her new group of friends seemed to be between eachother. Despite the standard Spider-Person similarities, they all had different names and unique suits, which she thanked for thoroughly as she struggled to keep up with how many Peter Parkers she was greeted by in the short spawn of time she had been walking and swinging around the lobby. As they walked, the watches of the group lit up, and the hologram of another Spider-Woman allerted them of an anomaly they had to take care of in another dimension. Which to her seemed like a shocker was handled by the group like another Tuesday afternoon, quickly gathering to leave. "It was really nice meeting, you but we gotta' run." Miles exclaimed as they ran and soon disappeared in the multitude. There she was left with nothing but her own company, soon realizing she was completely lost on what followed. Miguel had communicated to her in a strange and rather unsettling manner that she was recruited to be a part of the Spider-Society to fight against the collapse of the multiverse, she had been made aware of the threat Spot posed to it and how it was their job to try to eliminate him, and had been given her own gizmo including a rich tour of the place, now what? She stood looking around. Seeing how everyone made their way to somewhere, she eventually realized she needed to get going herself. She found her way back to headquarters with some help of the other Spider-People, and as she entered she felt the contrast of the light in the lobby compared to the darkness of the office, which resembled an eerie bat cave. Her swift and agile movement dodging dozens of questionably placed gadgets and screens was performed in complete discression, which was not intentional, but almost an instinctive way of moving that she could no longer detach from herself, even when she wasn't playing Spider-Woman. She hesitated on whether to call out for Miguel or not. Her interactions with him ranged from absoulute intensity to awkward silence, and he was very distinctive from the other Spider-Men, not only by his height and the unique appearance of his suit and physique, but also his strange lack of a sense of humor. Unlike herself and the other Spider-People, Miguel failed to make a single joke in the spawn of time they'd spent together, and when he did try it came off as a mean bark, or a passive order. He sure wasn't her favorite Spider of the bunch, but he scared her enough for her to want to make a good impression on him. She was serious in the workplace and as far as her critical-self could tell, her performance was quite decent, however it would take more than that to gain a reputable name, as she assumed most members of the strikeforce, with the exception of Hobie, aimed towards a similar goal. She webbed her hair into a pony-tail, using the comfortable and limitless source of unconventional hairties.

"Miguel? You around?" She hopped onto the central area of what she could only call 'the cave', looking around for the Spider-Man. "You're still here?" An unwelcoming voice that only could be perceived as a sigh came from the floating platform. "Well, I haven't been told to do otherwise.." She struggled to find the propper words to express herself with, her tongue tripping on her own palate as she spoke. The platform descended in it's usual slow pace. "Fair enough, you're free to go. I'll let you know if we need you here." Her head tilted in confusion, was that it? She thought to herself about the disappointing outcome of her visit, after such a chilling premise of 'the fate of the multiverse', she was left with no tasks or anything she could do to help, and the fact that Miguel himself wasn't rushing to find Spot and 'retire' him only made her think it was probably harder than it seemed. "Is there really nothing more I can do?" Miguel jumped down from his base, walking past by her. "It's okay, you've done... enough today." What was that supposed to mean? The tone with which he spoke was holding back hostility, probably referencing her failure at stopping Spot back at her dimension, but it was ridiculous to hold any grudge at her for it, not only had he been just as futile as her, if not more, but she still had plenty of energy to run on anything else necessary. He was clearly dismissing her, but his speech had frightened her enough to make her wish like she was more useful. At least if the multiverse did collapse and they failed at completing their mission, she could be obliterated from existence knowing she tried her best. "Look, I get that my performance back home today was subpar, but I now know stuff I didn't. I really don't intend to brag but I think I'm good enough to do something around." She expressed calmly but persistently, following behind him. "I know you're good, you think I'd take you in if you weren't?" Miguel retorted before volatilely pushing devices and equipment out of his way, he seemed to be holding back aggression, yet visibly upset. "Look, it's good that you have that drive, but it's not necessary right now. Go home, I'll contact you through your gizmo if we need you." He didn't wait for a reply, leaving her alone in the cold office after sending her off. She shrugged to herself calling a victory for the rather snappy compliment. Still, she lingered thinking about Miguel's attitude, wondering what was the cause of his temper. Whatever it was didn't stress her much, as he seemed short-tempered himself and quite prone to lashing out, like he did back at her dimension. The more she thought about home, the more tempting resting seemed and the more greatful she was that Miguel considered her dispensable for the day.

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse fanfiction #atsv #atsv fic #atsv fanfiction #angst #slowburn #friends to lovers

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davidmariottecomics · 6 months

Text

Burning a Resource (Or How I'm Leaving Twitter)

Hey again!

Yesterday, I drew and posted a little comic on my various socials (reposted here) about how I'm gearing up to officially shut down my Twitter. And I want to talk a little bit about why it isn't an immediate thing that I'm doing, and some thoughts I've had on losing what has ultimately been a really valuable resource in my personal and professional life, particularly in light of how it has gotten people jobs.

Why am I Leaving?

The long and short is I can't ethically stay. I find Elon Musk to be detestable as a human being and wish him nothing but ill-will, in the same way that he uses his money and resources to push ill-will upon the world. And under his reign--because he certainly treats it as a kingdom--the site had gotten a lot worse in a bunch of ways. For months, people have been describing the overall site's decline into far right views and activism. You can see all the problems of greed and bad business sense at work as so many functions have gone offline or been shunted to only being accessible behind a pay wall. There're increasing problems of the user experience--I know someone who has basically given up on Twitter because the site makes them "verify their identity/that they're human" multiple times a day, and then directs them to the Twitter Rules, without any sort of guidance on how any rule that Twitter has may've been violated. And, yes, there are a lot of services that I've elected to use despite having compunctions about them, but that's uhh... living in a capitalistic society and having to make decisions on how far you're willing to flex and while that's not a morally great feeling, it's part of how we have to exist at the moment and being cognizant of the decisions we make around these things is an important part of navigating further use. And this point, I am not going to keep using Twitter.

Why am I Staying?

That all said, I'm not leaving this exact moment. I'm not sure of my exact exit date. By the end of 2023, certainly. But I have a few things I'd like to wrap up before I go, and I want to briefly walk you through them.

First off, let me just say, this is also very highly influenced by my age. I am of the age when I have never worked at a company that didn't have a social media presence while I was there. I watched in real time as platforms like Twitter and Facebook became a regular part of business--through promotion and connections--and how that was added to workflows as I was coming up. I think a lot of the people who've had an easier time detransitioning from socials are folks who were not trained onto it from a young age. But that's not my case and I want to make sure that the business and personal aspects of my life that have been entangled in Twitter are compensated for in other ways.

To me, the most important loss that will come from this is of community. And that's why I've continued to stay above all else. There are a lot of folks I'm connected to on Twitter that I don't have connections to other places. Functionally, I like Bluesky a lot. I'm about to hit 1000 followers, which all told, is pretty good. I have over 4 times that on Twitter, but I would guess a significant portion of that difference is not on Bluesky because it's invite only. And while I may have connections here and there on other platforms, they're pretty diffused and I am not using most of those platforms regularly enough to actually know who all is where. Like, despite everything I just about Bluesky, it's my second largest platform above Facebook (not counting the IDW Sonic Squad page), Instagram, and on anything else, less than 100 people are set-up to regularly see my posts, and that makes the way I use social media harder to do.

And the primary way I do use social is to find and connect with creators and help promote their projects. So, this week, I'm setting my Twitter up with scheduled posts and through whenever I deactivate, I'll still have my posts going out about new projects that are important to me and to the people who worked hard on them. I think their work deserves whatever boost of recognition it might get from my social presence there.

In the coming weeks, my other big project will be to get as much contact info as I can. I have found so many artists that I really like on Twitter and I want to be able to reach out to them when I want/need to. I want to make sure my friends and I exchange ways to communicate outside of this. I'm taking this upon myself because that's, I dunno, my role? Editors tend to be the ones to reach out when we have a project. So I want to make sure I'm doing my part of be proactive about keeping that up.

Finally, I want to make sure that I'm not completely out of touch with the other personal and practical parts of Twitter. I follow Genshin Impact because I think the game's fun. I frequently get updates on it through Twitter and should probably make sure if I want to continue those updates, I'm aware of how to get them otherwise. I follow journalists and sex workers and activists and unions and smart people whose thoughts I don't want to lose and dumb people who post real funny and just like... my friends and I'd like to make sure they aren't lost in the ether either.

How We Collectively Move Forward Earlier this week, Becca and I got to do something pretty cool and talk to a class of sequential art students. If you were one of those students and are now reading this, hi! But we were asked to attend to give sort of a really cumulative look at working in comics from the point of view of an editor who has been at this for a long time and from a working freelance artist who does a lot of tabling at shows and indie work and is also still looking to get in and start doing work at bigger companies. As part of that, we talked to the kids about the advantages of tabling at and attending cons and how to go about meeting editors at shows and generally, how best to get the attention of an editor.

One of the things we talked about was with Twitter becoming less of an option, one of the more accessible ways to get on an editor's radar is going away. Not that editors like to be cold DM'ed necessarily, but as someone who has found a lot of talent through specifically Twitter and who recognizes that interstate, much less international, travel for cons is expensive and taxing, it sucks to lose that resource. And that's compounded by a lot of other resources going sideways--like, DeviantArt and ArtStation and some of the other art sharing sites have become hotbeds of AI theft bullshit and were full of NFTs before that. Some of the other potential social sites that could be used to promote your art like Cohost or Mastodon or TikTok are not always the best at discoverability or a good match to how you interact online (I don't really use any of those platforms). It's tough.

As has been said time and time again, it's neither fair nor particularly productive to have a significant portion of your work day be crossposting a million times and places and slightly different formats hoping to have your work hit where and when it needs to. Making comics is often a 2nd shift job, or a 4th & 5th shift job as you're trying to do more consistent work--be it a day job or non-comics freelance, plus caring for a family of some sort, plus the act of making art being a different job from the act of promoting it being a different job from the act of actually running an independent business to do all these things.

My only real solution is, y'know, collective support. On my own website, I have a Friends page with links to the sites of people I like and have worked with or like the work of. I know that the Cartoonist Cooperative has a talent database of their members. There's a fairly new Adult Artist Webring. One of the best things I think creators can do with their peers is equivalent exchange projects--be that getting blurbs from or having your friends/peers post about your new project on their platforms, exchanging promos of projects on Kickstarter updates or just reposting each other's stuff, making ad swaps so if you have an indie project, you can put an ad for your friend's thing in it. I think other people should of course have Friend-type pages on their websites, and I am always appreciative when an artist reaches out or declines a project and recommends some other folks they know. It's a major part of how things build in this industry and how we do maintain connection outside of social media spheres.

And, from an editorial perspective, one of the things that's really tough to navigate sometimes is how welcome you are in some of these spaces. I've mentioned Discords before, and while they can be a really great communal resource to the artists in them, there are a lot of very regular, valid reasons why artists might not want an editor in that space. So it does have to be considered and measured where and how folks are presenting themselves to get that visibility and traction.

My last thought is y'know do try your hardest while also, again, accepting that this is a ton of work all the time and is often done on top of other work, to figure out what makes sense for you to reach out to people. If you aren't able to go to cons and meet editors, or you're only able to go to cons where you don't think many editors are attending, how do you move forward? Well, maybe your solution is to do a lot of anthologies that have a mix of talent involved and might get some extra eyes on your work because it also includes people who are known names that editors follow. Maybe your solution is to get an agent who can send your work out to editors on a regular basis and let them know when you're looking for work. Maybe your solution is to get a hold of cool comic and zine shops and see if they'll do consignment on your books, even if you aren't local, because they're local to where publishing is. Maybe your solution is to look up if a company has a talent director/scout type role and to reach out to them, rather than editorial directly. There are alternate ways to both social media and cons to get your work in front of hiring folks eyes, thought they also require a bit of leg-work and luck.

Because I've talked about it a lot, here are the other places you can find me online.

Bluesky Instagram My Website Patreon Tumblr Buttondown Linktree I am on Cohost, Mastodon, Facebook, and LinkedIn, but don't really use them actively, so not linking here. You can email me, though I ask you please follow my rules on the contact page. If we know each other, you can ask for my Discord handle or my phone #.

Until next time! What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Solve This Murder (Podcast), One Piece (Manga), The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon (Book), Reverse 1999 (Video Game), Joe Pera Talks with You (TV show), Witch Watch (Manga), Freakazoid (TV show), Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas (Troy Little's graphic novel adaptation), drawing a little comic and generally trying to do a little more art to go with my writing, when the cats do understand their new litterbox.

New Releases this week (11/8/2023): Godzilla Rivals: Round Two (Editor on most of it) Sonic the Hedgehog #66 (Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog: Knuckles' Greatest Hits (Editor) Sonic the Hedgehog: The IDW Art Collection (Editor)

New Releases next week (11/15/2023): Godzilla Rivals: vs. Mechagodzilla (Editor)

Announcements: If you'd like to have me on your podcast, Twitch stream, at your convention, signing at your store, talking to your students, whatever, feel free to hit me up via my contact page. To those first couple things, sorry a few podcasty/Twitch-streamy things have been delayed. We've been having some headphone/mic technical issues, but that should be fixed soon.

Wanna support me? Visit my webstore, my Patreon, my Kofi, or my eBay. And you can always visit Becca's portfolio/shop/Patreon/Twitch streams too.

It may feel futile as all polling already shows we aren't being listened to, but email, call, or fax your representatives to demand a ceasefire in Gaza and the stopping of a genocide. There are also plenty of places to donate your time and money.

Pic of the Week: Enjoy a little comic about leaving Twitter.

#comics #comics editorial #godzilla idw #leaving twitter #comic #I know I posted the comic by itself yesterday so sue me #finding comics jobs #finding artists

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medi-melancholy · 1 year

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end of year thoughts, mostly about art stuff

so much of what i drew this past year was just like, oc designs or sketches, nothing i could categorize as my usual “finished art”, but now i’m wondering if i should maybe start posting all that kind of stuff because like. well. any art is art

i guess i just still get self-conscious about the majority of my art being concept sketches + designs, mostly for original stuff, because that isn’t what grabs attention or makes money, even if it’s what i’m most passionate about and what i personally feel i’m best at :’)

i’ve grown more comfortable almost always only sharing that art personally among friends because at least then i know i’ll hear a response or feedback, especially, again, with original stuff. i post the same art here or on twitter and it’s like 15 likes total combined so. lmao. a bit demoralizing if there’s no actual interest there

with how my physical health has destabilized in some ways, getting back into posting what i draw is going to take a lot of motivation, because i put effort in to even just sit at my desk for a few hours, to use my hands, to keep my eyes on a screen, and getting very little acknowledgment when i do post what i’ve worked on is ehhhhh

on the one hand, it feels nice to not have to stress about not posting much, because i don’t have a good idea of how many people actually care or enjoy my art, i guess. i have no clue what my follower count does besides Exist because i can easily name the same few people who engage with my art without fail, and i’m eternally grateful for them. i can only assume most of the hundreds just left tumblr over the years. that’s fair, i’ve been here for nearly 10 years now lol

on the other, it’s tough to feel seen or successful without a proper or widespread platform. if i did more fanart, specifically fanart for popular stuff, that gets attention, but no one would stick around if i didn’t keep drawing for the same things. and that doesn’t feel true to who i am at all, and an unhappy existence isn’t a sustainable one

i know one solution to more engagement is simply to post more often, which leads me back to the question of, do i just want to post everything that i do draw, regardless of if i think it’s good or bad, regardless of how ‘finished’ or ‘clean’ it is? posting more = drawing more, though, and that isn’t always possible for me. disability’s a bitch! bad luck and unpredictability are bigger bitches

i’m excited to get back to drawing, because i am at my core an artist, and if i stop creating things one way or another, i wouldn’t really be myself, i at the very least wouldn’t be happy. having to take months and months away from drawing because of the fucking conga line of illness and health complications and being busy has been tough, and it’s made me think a lot

i guess i’m working on figuring myself and what i want to do out in some new ways, and that’s ok. i’m just happy to be alive, you know? it wasn’t a bad year for me, or a particularly challenging one. i think it flew by, actually, which i think is great. it was a good time. i hurt a lot, and cried a lot, i was sick a lot a lot a lot, and bad things did happen, but that’s ok. i’m still here. thank you for being here, too, friend. ❤

#like if you read if that's ok. not in like the 'need to see the range of attention caught' kinda way but like #just checking that it's been seen i guess? if that makes sense #and if you have any thoughts or feedback that is cool too!#had some healthy cries and talks today and i'm just lettin my mind air out and befriend the thoughts or let them pass if needed

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 years

Text

sweet & sour | part 1.

Summary: Y/N L/N. Ex-member of the girl group Lemonade. Ilvermorny was great until everything fell apart between her and her group members. Needing a break, she decides to transfer to Hogwarts.

Warnings: none

Pairing: george wealsey x black!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N I: so many off canon things, so many

(Series Masterlist)

You sighed loudly as you stuck your earbuds in your ear. They were your old in-ear monitors turned headphones. You couldn’t believe you still used them… well, you couldn’t believe a lot of things. Like the fact that you only had two years of schooling left. One year until the wizarding world deemed you an adult and thrusted you into the real world after giving you one more safety net year of school. You couldn’t believe the fact that those final two years weren’t at Ilvermorny. You were on the Hogwarts Express. It was either Hogwarts or Beauxbatons since your mom moved to Belgium but you couldn’t speak French very well. Your mom tried to send an owl, bless her, before giving up and going with normal mail. Freshly changed into plain Hogwarts’ robes— not nearly as cute as Ilvermorny— you set down your cat and fell asleep in the compartment.

Fred, George, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia were looking for an empty compartment on the train or at least one with enough room for them. Five people didn’t exactly leave a lot of room for others. Angelina blamed Lee for being late to the platform and the reason that they were searching the whole train now. It was their last year doing this. The train, quidditch team, being in Gryffindor robes. Oh, and kicking Cedric’s ass in quidditch while playfully acting like they didn’t like the Hufflepuff head boy.

“Oh, what about this one?” Alicia pointed. “Only a girl and a cat.”

“And she’s asleep,” Lee added.

The five of them nodded and entered the compartment. Alicia sat down first without a care. Angelina and Fred— still dancing around if they were a couple or not— sat down across from you. That left Lee and George to take the bench that you were on. Lee carefully avoided sitting on your cat and George tried not to touch you with his knee as he sat down. They enjoyed each other’s company while you slept blissfully.

Your cat, Salem, got up before you did. He took a chance to meow at every new person in the compartment before jumping to the floor for his second round of napping. The train jostled and you went from leaning against the side of the compartment to slowly slumping over into George’s lap. The others started laughing hysterically at the fact that you didn’t wake up from it, didn’t even stir. The conversation switched from quidditch to the mystery girl in George’s lap.

“I wonder what year she’s in? Doesn’t look like a first year but there’s no color on her robes,” Lee said.

“Definitely not a first year. She’s got to be new,” Fred said. “Never seen her before.”

Angelina gasped as you turned over and they could see your face properly now. She pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through her following list on Wizgram.

“LC. I can’t believe it, fuckin’ LC is going to Hogwarts.”

Lee shook his head. “LC? Ex member of Lemonade LC? Made two solo albums after leaving randomly and then a song saying she hated everything LC, no way.”

Alicia immediately grabbed the phone and soon it was passed around until all five of them confirmed that they were staring at LC from the girl group Lemonade. Well, now they knew where you were. It shook the entire wizarding world— worldwide— when you first left the group after the back to school album in fifth year. And then after two solo EPs with no explanation, you disappeared. The entire summer had gone by without a single post on Wizper or Wizgram from you. It was like you didn’t exist, that you had been some collective figment of everyone’s imagination.

The piano music had stopped playing in your headphones, causing the rumble of the train to be loud in your ear. You started to stretch before realizing your head wasn’t on the compartment side but something that felt a lot like a person. Quickly, you jumped up while muttering apologies. You look at Salem who provides no help other than to jump into the lap of the redhead that you had fallen asleep on. You grabbed your cat and gave everyone a wave.

Lee had no problem saying what they were all thinking. “Shouldn’t you be on a bus to Ilvermorny or something?”

You snorted. “We take the Amtrak from Horned Terminal like a normal wizard. School bus, ha. We’re not No-Majs.”

“No-Majs?” Alicia asked.

“Oh, right, um… muggle? That’s what y’all call them?”

They all just repeated your term ‘No-Maj’ with a bit of intrigue. Lee went back to his question. You scratched the top of Salem’s head.

“I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Can we ask why you left Lemonade?”

“Like I said, I just n—”

Your phone ringing cut you off. You picked it up and answered. The friendly voice of your manager, Jim, blasted through the phone. He was always so loud that you had to put him on speaker and spare your ear. Sometimes, you wished Jim would use patronuses instead of the phone so you could have better volume control. The conversation started normally like it always did. Small talk, Ilvermorny, more small talk. Finally, the question he always asked came up.

“Do you want to go back out there?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug that he couldn’t see.

“I know it’s scary but the longer you put it off, the harder it is to get back out there.”

“My last performance they all showed up to the concert yelling mudblood until the entire crowd turned on me. I don’t know if I can do that again.”

“Alright,” Jim paused. “I’ll call you again next month, see how you’ve settled. There should be an owl coming for you in a few days. Have a good time, kid.”

“I’ll try.”

You hung up the phone and looked back at your train buddies. You shoved the phone into your bag.

“Life became hell at Ilvermorny after the article.”

“That your parents are muggles, who cares?” Alicia started. “Besides, your mom is T. Dylan. That’s awesome! My aunt has like three of her handbags.”

“I’m glad someone thinks it’s cool. I don’t know about Hogwarts but blood purity at Ilvermorny is practically a life or death sentence. Newmaj marks you an absolute loser.”

“Newmaj?”

“New magic, new to the magic world… no one ever said our names were creative. Anyway, all of Lemonade are purebloods. Jim and I knew to keep it hidden.”

Fred ran a hand through his hair. “That’s rubbish. You were the best in the group anyway.”

You laughed.

“Thank you but even I know that’s not true. Hailey’s stage name is AI for a reason, she’s a literal dance machine. Nola’s vocals couldn’t be beat… I’m not even sure how I made it into the group.”

Angelina dropped her head onto Fred’s shoulder. “Is that stressful? Ilvermorny’s dual track? I think I’d die if all I did was perform.”

You shrugged. “I mean if you want to be an entertainer in America, you take the Ilvermorny dual track. Every witch or wizard’s done it. It’s all I’ve known since first year.”

The train pulled into the station. You stuck to your train buddies as you got into a carriage. They tried to explain Hogwarts as best as they could while the carriages headed towards the castle. That was already the first change. Ilvermorny looked like all the fancy Ivy League No-Maj schools. Hogwarts was a literal castle. The five friends started guessing what House you’d be in.

“What was your House at Ilvermorny?” George asked.

“Pukwudgie… don’t laugh! Us Wudgies are the best House.”

That made them laugh harder. You rolled your eyes and let them make fun of the clearly superior Ilvermorny House. Everything had you in slight awe as you entered. Sparing you the awkwardness, McGonagall called you up first. Whispers already started going around. It didn’t phase you. You didn’t spend years in one of the biggest girl groups and not expect people to talk.

At the same time, you wished that they wouldn’t. Ilvermorny’s dual track was for those who knew that they weren’t taking a normal job in the wizarding world. They weren’t going to be herbologists or work in Magical Congress. They weren’t going to run wand shops or bakeries. Everyone on the dual track knew they were performers. Or working backstage— Charms class in Dual track had Fridays dedicated to safely performing fireworks or setting actors on literal fire. It also meant that you didn’t know anything but performing which was a problem because now that wasn’t your life anymore.

The counselor at Ilvermorny said it’s just an anxiety that you’ll eventually get over. She thought a year off at Hogwarts and then coming back to graduate and continue your path was going to be good for you. You wanted that too. Merlin, you’d give anything to be back on stage. Before the girls found out you were a Newmaj, they were your best friends. Lemonade did everything together. You all joined the cheer team together, moved into the same dorm, hung out at one member’s house every holiday. And in an instant, after that stupid article dug into your family life even though Jim had made that a forbidden topic since debut, they turned on you.

Ilvermorny tried to make it work. You guys were a group that got popular while still in school. They wanted you to stick it out. The album was already done for the opening of fifth year. Your vocals were already there. You guys had been practicing the dance routines already for the concert. And then the article. You were out of the group no matter how much the administration tried to push it. The girls wanted you out and it was announced that same week that you were leaving Lemonade.

The lie was that you injured yourself beyond belief and didn’t want to bring down the group now that you were at half the skill that you used to be— everyone wished you well and you’d be releasing a solo EP to make up to your fans. It worked for a bit and then your former members weren’t satisfied. They said the article wasn’t lying and the administration was covering your ass. Your first concert was your last when the music was drowned out by the yelling of mudblood over everything. And now you were lost as you sat underneath a hat yelling:

“Hufflepuff!”

Your train buddies seemed a bit dejected while one table was cheering wildly, already yelling how they got LC. You sat at a table littered in yellow. A boy stuck out a hand.

“Cedric Diggory, Head Boy.”

So, he was the year above you based on what Alicia said about how prefects worked at this school. You shook his hand.

“(Y/N) (L/N).”

“I know.”

“Right, Lemonade.”

“Well, yeah, that and Professor McGonagall just said your name.”

“… right.”

Not being LC from Lemonade was going to take a lot of getting used to. You realized that when you entered your dorm and, for the first time ever, you weren’t with your members. It was being alone and it felt weird.

“Well, this is your stop. If you don’t mind me asking,” Cedric started. “Single room? Not many people have them. I think Amar’s the only Hufflepuff who’s not a prefect that has one, medical stuff.”

“I have dorm anxiety… lots of anxiety if you were to ask Susan. Fifth year wasn’t the easiest. I’m just trying to start over if I can.”

“Does dorm anxiety extend to parties?”

“I don’t think so?”

“Perfect. Ravenclaw’s hosting the first one in the RoR, fifth year and up. Get changed and knock on my door when you’re ready to go.”

“RoR?” you asked.

“Room of Requirement. You know, you picked a good year to transfer. Harry stopped Voldemort and Hogwarts might actually have a fun year again. So, are you up for it?”

“I guess.”

You changed, gave Salem his nightly scratches, and knocked on Cedric’s door. He led you through the castle that had more stairs than you knew what to do with. And they moved. When you didn’t want them to. Your teachers back at Ilvermorny would have been appalled to find that out. All of your staircases were meant to help students get to class quicker, not make them late. These stairs also were jerky instead of moving with a smoothness. But the Room of Requirement was cool. You weren’t sure if Ilvermorny ever had that. If it did, none of Lemonade had ever discovered it.

At least one thing didn’t change. Whether in the US or the UK, a party was a party. Music playing, alcohol that wasn’t even being kept away from the fifth years, snacks, groups of students dancing, talking, playing dumb games. Yeah, at least that was the same. When your train buddies approached, Cedric felt comfortable to leave you so he could go to his girlfriend who briefly introduced herself as Cho Chang.

You were grateful that they kind of took you in. The problem with Lemonade was you five only had each other and the cheer team. It was hard to tell if everyone else wanted to be your friend because they wanted to be your friend or they wanted to say they got a picture with you.

You weren’t sure about your train buddies but aside from a few questions, they didn’t seem to care too much about knowing a girl group member. You were definitely getting stares from everyone else though. People couldn’t help themselves. Fred or George, you couldn’t tell them apart, shoved a cup of firewhiskey in your hand.

You had planned on nursing it the entire night but then a Lemonade song came on and you downed the cup before replacing it with another one. They took you to the rest of the train buddies sitting with some other people. You met the younger Weasley siblings and their friends.

Everyone chuckled as both you and Harry stared at each other, starstruck for different reasons. The British Wizarding War might not have affected you guys but everyone still knew who Harry Potter was. How couldn’t you?

Lemonade was his favorite group— Forest was his favorite member but you had always caught his eye. It felt weird to be seeing you in person. The one time he ever felt jealous of another wizarding school was when Ilvermorny the school year started late in fourth year so their Winter Ball was held the same time as Hogwarts’ special Yule Ball and Dumbledore said that Lemonade had to cancel. The Weird Sisters were still great but everyone had wanted to see the girl group.

“Is this what happens when two famous people are in the same room?” Seamus broke the staring match as everyone laughed.

“Sorry,” you said as you played with the rim of your cup. “I’m normally not starstruck. It’s just kind of crazy meeting the Harry Potter.”

“I mean you’re from Lemonade, everyone knows you.”

You chuckled. “Thanks but saving the world is infinitely cooler than dancing in high heels.”

At some point through the night, you felt your fake social skills that you put on for fans slowly slip away. The real you got comfortable enough to make an appearance. It helped that people tried to ask more about Ilvermorny than Lemonade.

When dumb games like Truth or Dare started, they didn’t bring up your members but other things. Your train buddies had spread the word to their circle of acquaintances about how you looked on the train when anything about it was brought up. The same wasn’t done outside the circle. You tried not to draw too much attention whenever you got up to get snacks or a drink because everyone wanted to talk to LC not (Y/N). You had dodged pictures although you knew that secret pictures were being taken.

You hadn’t made a single post since the fail of a concert. You were going to deactivate your account completely but Jim had convinced you to at least leave it up. You came back to the circle with drinks for you, a girl next to you named Ginny, and a boy on the other side of you named Neville. They said thanks and informed you of the stupid dares you had missed.

“(Y/N),” Ron said, it took you a minute to respond because you were so used to LC. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“That’s all you’ve picked all night,” Alicia piped up.

“PR,” you said simply. “Still used to watching my image.”

Ron just nodded and went back to thinking. “Is that one interview true? The one where Nola said you weren’t asked to the dance?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry but how did no one ask you? She’s lying about that.” Angelina pursed her lips while everyone nodded in agreement.

“Actually, she was telling the truth.”

“What?”

“Well, kind of. I did get asked by a few people but it was because everyone thought they had a chance now that I had been taken down a peg for being a Newmaj— muggleborn, Merlin, I’m not going to remember that stupid word.”

“Muggleborn is stupid but Newmaj isn’t?” Dean teased.

“Newmaj is definitely cooler. We sound badass.”

“As badass as Pukwudgie?”

“Will you all stop making fun of my old House!”

They all started laughing. “It’s Pukwudgie. Pukwudgie. How are you saying it with a straight face?”

“Literally shut up.”

“Literally,” Dean and Seamus tried to mimic your accent.

“I’ll hex you into next week.”

“Uh oh, Freddie. I think the Wudgie’s mad.”

“It appears so, Georgie.”

You pulled out your wand, making everyone stop to look at it.

“Woah,” George said. “That’s cool looking.”

“Thanks. Everyone loves a good Jonky.”

“Jonky?”

Hermione became interested in something she didn’t know. You handed her your wand. She started admiring the shine to it and the faint smell of fruit coming off of it.

“Yeah, Jonker’s Wands are some of the best in the US. Damn expensive too but pearl-infused wood isn’t easy to make so it’s worth it.”

“It smells nice,” Luna commented.

“Yeah, I got a pear tree. I always thought the lemon tree would have picked me but nope. Pear tree wood, unicorn hair core, ten inches, flexible. The Jonky J’s engraved right in the handle, it’s the real deal.”

She handed it back after admiring it some more. “That’s a brilliant wand.”

Angelina laid herself out over Fred’s lap. “Newmaj, No-maj, Jonky wands. America sounds cool.”

Cedric and Cho came over. You felt him tap on your head and looked up.

“Filch just passed Hufflepuff, best if we leave now before he goes back to our floor.”

All your friends got up. “That means he’ll be passing Gryffindor soon.”

The party began to clear out in rounds as everyone slowly left the Room of Requirement and tried to avoid getting busted being out past curfew. You and Cedric froze when you heard running on the staircase above you. He took a chance and looked up. Filch was chasing a different group of students. The boy grabbed your hand and quickly you two made your way back to your House before getting caught yourselves. You chuckled as you leaned against the wall adjacent to your room door.

“I haven’t done that in forever.”

“Really?” Cedric tilted his head.

“Yep, you can’t be hungover and perform. Late night rehearsals mean a lack of late night parties. We only get to do that maybe twice a year.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Well, my members used to be all the fun I ever needed.”

“We’re going to get you out more. From parties to quidditch matches. Welcome to Hogwarts.”

“Quidditch?”

“I’m going to act like you didn’t just ask me what quidditch was and go to bed. See you tomorrow. Try not to look hungover if you get Professor Lupin first, he notices everything.”

You said goodnight and retired to your own room. Jim would have lost his mind to find out how much firewhiskey you drank. At most, you all would have been allowed one cup for the whole night. You definitely had more than one cup. However, you looked a lot better than some other students.

Sleep deprivation from many late night dance practices meant that you already knew how to look like a functioning student even when running on empty. Cedric just shook his head as he handed you your schedule— it didn’t look like you had been to a party at all. He sat down next to you after doing his prefect duties, watching you mark up your schedule.

“What is that?”

“The most functional tool in your life. Say what you want about Newmajs, at least we know how to use a damn pen.”

“What’s wrong with quills?”

You huffed a laugh. “Everything.”

You shoved the pen into his hand and made him write on his own schedule so he could feel how smooth the pen wrote. Cedric just crinkled his nose, thinking it was weird. You weren’t surprised. Phones weren’t even a thing until five years ago. And even then, wizards only used it for Wizgram and Wizper. Text message? Send an owl. Call? Send a patronus. The only reason Jim even called you was because you were on a moving train and he didn’t feel like having his patronus running around the various compartments to find you.

Your phone got the most action because of your mother who was very grateful the wizarding world started adding a bit of muggle technology to their lives. She would much rather text you than try to work out owls. Although, she still did every now and then because that was a part of your world. The boy handed you the pen back.

You ate toast and listened to Dumbledore make important announcements, including a reminder about a deadly forest. You nearly choked because why would that even be on campus?

“And the schedules have been posted for Quidditch tryouts. Ravenclaw will be held next week Monday and Tuesday. Slytherin has the pitch after for Wednesday and Thursday. Hufflepuff gets Friday and Saturday. Gryffindor will finish the end with the following Monday and Tuesday.”

You turned to Cedric. “Two questions.”

“Two answers.”

“Again, quidditch? And when are cheer tryouts, he didn’t say.”

“One, literally the most popular sport. Two, cheer?”

Cedric showed you his team picture, turns out he was on the quidditch team.

“Oh! Quodpot. Yeah, I know that.”

“What the hell is quodpot?”

“Literally the most popular sport in the US. That’s right, I think I remember someone saying it’s the exact same but our quaffles explode and yours don’t?”

“They explode?”

“Yeah, makes the game so much fun. One year, Ted singed off his bangs because he caught the quaffle just as it exploded. It was great,” you said through laughter at the memory.

“Well, I don’t know how great that is but to answer your second question, there is no cheer team. I’ve always wondered about that. Do you all really cheer at every game? That’s such an American thing.”

“Yes, it’s really a thing. How is there not— this is unacceptable.”

“Where are you going?”

“Um, Professor Sprout, duh.”

Cedric watched you march up to the faculty table. You were also earning looks from everyone else. It wouldn’t die down for a few weeks but soon everyone would see (Y/N) and not LC. Until then, you accepted the eyes. You rocked once on the balls of your feet.

“Professor Sprout, we have a serious problem. I have just been informed that Hogwarts has a lack of cheer teams.”

The rest of the faculty tried not to laugh. Professor Sprout shared an amused look with McGonagall and Dumbledore.

“We do not have cheer teams, that is correct.”

You nodded.

“Well, school spirit is very important as we all know. And it’s been proven somewhere I’m sure that cheer teams increase spirit at quodpot— I mean quidditch— games by at least two hundred percent. I think we can all agree that spirit increases would make for a more enjoyable game.”

“They would.”

“Right, so can I start one for Hufflepuff? All we need is a sign up time. That’s it. I can handle the room and the outfits and everything else. I was in training to be Pukwudgie captain at Ilvermorny, I know what I’m doing.”

She looked at the other staff. “I think that’s a brilliant idea. Professor Dumbledore?”

“Do you need the quidditch pitch for try-outs?”

“No, sir. Just a classroom where we can put up mirrors. It’s not even a try-out, whoever wants to join can join.”

“None of the seventh floor classrooms are in use anymore, they should do.”

“Thank you.”

You marched back to the front of your table. All of Hufflepuff looked at you, the other tables getting silent as well. You put on a dazzling Lemonade smile.

“Hi, everyone! Cheer team for quidditch. It’s happening. No experience required, all you need is a love of cheer and dancing. Sign-ups are this Friday. Let’s go Puffs!”

Cedric snorted into his drink. You were slowly killing his image of LC from Lemonade. The longer he talked to you, the dorkier you got.

(Part 2)...

#george weasley x black!reader #george weasley x reader #hufflepuff!reader

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ufonaut · 2 years

Note

You seriously are judgemental of people for not liking soulless corporate shit that turned Great Darkness from Swamp Thing into Crisis Big Bad and is a way for new gen to have their big moment before fully putting them to sidelines? Come on.

that's my fucking point, it's not soulless corporate shit any more than the original crisis on infinite earths or zero hour: crisis in time were. you think those were made with no concern whatsoever for the books they might sell or the way they might rejuvenate a stagnant universe?

an indescribable boom of miniseries followed crisis, look at the ridiculous amount of new titles between '86 - '88 (longbow hunters, the demon, doctor fate, the phantom stranger, the crimson avenger, underworld, slash maraud, wild dog, blackhawk, power girl, peacemaker, etc etc without naming even half of them) and that's not even counting things like batman: year one that existed solely to establish the post-crisis origins of dc's bestsellers or any of the ongoings affected by the crisis or started as a result of it.

similarly, and take it from someone who owns every piece of zero hour promo material and has spent weeks painstakingly going through every solicitation of 1994, zero hour: crisis in time had quite literally over 80 (eighty!) tie-ins and an entire month after its finale dedicated to promoting the seven entirely new titles born from it.

and they're both generally acknowledged as some of dc's absolute heights! it's a formula that works with varying amounts of success, that's true, but you can't possibly compare stuff like dark nights: metal that's created solely for the purpose of selling merch while still framing the jl trinity as its main characters (how about bruce's entire black lantern arc for no reason whatsoever? diana using the helmet of fate? because they're mr scott snyder's specialest little perfect soldiers, right?) and playing around with violence & gore for the sake of violence & gore... to dark crisis' meticulous set up starting with infinite frontier (2021) #0-6 and slowly making its way through justice league incarnate #1-5 and beyond. you just can't.

it's idiotic to claim dark crisis is a platform for the next gen to have their big moment and nothing afterwards when it's bringing back legacy characters who haven't had the spotlight in decades -- oh, excuse me, did you forget alan scott & todd rice were main characters in infinite frontier? did you forget the jsa will be main characters in dark crisis starting with #3? how about cameron chase or cameos from forgotten 90s heroes like jared stevens/fate? or villains like hank henshaw? -- and that's counting pariah and the great darkness, who seem to be mutually poisoning each other towards this ultimate end in what's frankly some utterly compelling writing. hell, even joshua williamson talking about how he brought kyle rayner back because there were no other plans for him post-seemingly-dying-in-space in green lantern 2021 says a whole lot about the care dark crisis is handling its cast with and the genuine love for the medium going into this. you know that whole recent debate about writers who don't read or whatever it was? you can tell every single person involved in this latest crisis does read and does love comics as an art form. it's exciting! it's legitimately going back and looking at the original crisis and at zero hour in ways no modern event has dared! it's a book about legacy that actually understands its subject matter!

and you know what? even if it was all about the next gen getting their big moment, i would still welcome it because i'm sick to death of batman, superman and wonder woman and i'm sick to death of the universe revolving around them. why don't you want to see levi kamei deal with the great darkness like alec holland once had before him? why wouldn't this generation be given the same chance previous ones had?

i can see you've never once bothered to look at any of the behind the scenes discussions that have gone into dark crisis, and that's fine, but it doesn't make you any less of an idiot to come here with empty talking points everyone's passing around like a game of telephone because they saw a meme on twitter. i think dark crisis (on infinite earths) is one of the best things that could've ever happened to modern dc and disliking the fact that it approaches comics the way they had in the eighties and nineties simply means you don't understand comics or have no real love for them.

(x)

#dark crisis #dark crisis on infinite earths #jsa #justice society of america #green lantern #kyle rayner #swamp thing #pariah #the great darkness #asks #anon

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banschivs · 2 years

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@jokethur : ❝ this would be a great time for you to say something. anything. ❞ SENTENCE STARTERS / / ACCEPTING

Stilted though her movements are as of late, she'd managed to at least feed the Ranchi Goldfish in his bowl something before her arm halted awkwardly, hand hanging above the rim. Two bulbous eyes peer out from Goblin's swollen red and white speckled head as if counting the flakes of feed Nix still has pincered between her fingers. It's her working hand and yet they move as if bone scrapes upon bone when she seemingly realigns her brain with what she was doing before Arthur had made his case. He'd caught her in one of few brief flashes of habit — Goblin has been fed precisely on time for every meal, even in her silence and disillusionment — and her eyes seemingly have yet to adjust to his company, despite her ears having heard every word if what he has just said.

Since the explosion at their home that Riddler and his wet groupies seemingly claimed credit for, the masked freak has amassed a wider following. Rumours still spread of Nix's disfigurement or death seemingly being the cause for how quiet she has suddenly gone on every single platform. Desperate fans scramble for even the smallest crumb of evidence to keep that which they obsess over alive somehow, even if they don't know that it's true. Were Riddler dead on the sidewalk, after the assault of Arthur's bare fists, this chaos would never have erupted. Bruce's fault. In an astounding show of stupidity — even in Nix's uncharitable opinion — he'd collared his only existing relative in front of an audience of onlookers. Hooked Arthur like a fish on a line and demanded mercy for the same bastard who'd tried to blow him up — who did blow her up. All the while the Wayne brothers were holed up doing whatever it is they do that consistently amounts to nothing at all. Arthur had finally removed himself from the adulation of a figurehead in a cape and bat ears that had seemingly enraptured him so for months, to finally make progress. To finish it. The same brother he'd forsaken everything for stole it from him, as he was always going to. Only now does he look to her, when the avenue he'd actually sought after betrayed him. When everything else is stripped to ribbons of exposed and decaying skin.

Riddler is still alive. Riddler needs to die. Both are true, and she doesn't scoff at him in his moment of desperation. I want you as my partner on this, he says, but the words land like stones on cement. Flat, hollow sounds, in the wake of something better having crumbled. Nix's jaw works from one side, to the other as teeth grind. It isn't for irritation, but rather an anxious habit she's adopted since being launched across her own home. It's akin to the swaying of her head, though even that's stopped. That grating screams in her ears as whetted canines dig deeper trenches in her lower gums. Her mouth is never not flooded by blood these days. Arthur wants a partner. As if she'd ever been anything but, and as if she'd never fought him to be just that. He thinks he's solved his problems with some miraculous brainwave that no one else could have manifested, but Nix has been left behind and forgone without her say for a while now. His sudden revere for a brother he'd never met and still doesn't know had only pushed her further afield. Mere decoration, she thinks, were it up to either of them.

It's true, in a way. She'd have decorated the walls of that groundfloor had she not cleared the space. No thanks to either Wayne.

He begs her for a response that he knows will be stilted and weak, no matter what. It isn't her fault and it isn't his, either. But it is a constant weight, her lack of life. Nix's shoulders slip and fall south under the weight of it all, and what she finds to be a confusing lack of surprise. She asks, quietly, “ Why? ” But knows it isn't enough. So she swallows that rotten lump of flesh turned ash in her throat and lifts her head so her eyes meet his. Hers lack the bite of a storm he might paint within them himself. She's solemn instead, tired, and asks a question she thinks she already knows the answer to. “ Why now? ”

#jokethur #have you ever seen modern family?#the episode where she's been telling him abt this amazing chopped salad he should try and he's ignored her forever #then like one guy tells him to try the chopped salad and he's like omg honey you should try this chopped salad its amazing #and she goes absolutely ape shit at him??#throwing groceries and shit and he has zero understanding as to why she's so mad #this is arthur and nix's chopped salad :)

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jimbuchan · 23 days

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Achieve Composure From A Salesforce Data Loss Event

If you have never been the recipient of an interruption of business due to a data issue, or worse, a catastrophic failure, count yourself lucky, as It has been said that it's only a questions of 'when' an event like this will take place. For those who have planned carefully for such an occurrence, these folks will have the best chance of success for ensuring their data gets back to normal operating procedure in the smallest amount of time. Like any emergency preparedness plan, there exists many facets to ensure the process works when needed, with the plan itself being just the beginning. If your enterprise is gifted with not only a plan, but the preventative maintenance to reduce or eliminate a data-loss, you will have not only the greatest chance of recovery, but perhaps also the confidence to act quickly when needed. No Plan? Plan To Fail Salesforce for decades have proven that their downtime and redundancy are top-shelf among CRM providers, which have remained a very low occurrence. This reason alone ranks at the top of the stack as to why some firms have no backup / recovery option, but it doesn't have to be so as even some form of data retention is better than no protection at all. If there were no ongoing changes to your Org, a non-recovery plan may be well-founded as the recovery time of such outages to the Core Platform (i.e. Sales Cloud / Service Cloud) are rare, and at all times, the communication from the Salesforce team has been swift. However, there are many other, more likely reasons as to why a Data Recovery / Business Continuity plan should be adopted. Count The Ways While the chances of a Salesforce Platform outage itself is low, other, more likely causes should be the driving force to prepare today for an unlikely event tomorrow. Consider the possibilities that may come from internal issues such as a power-loss, brute-force attack or a code-deployment with inaccurate or missing data. While these events may have even a slight possibility of happening, you will instantly see the benefit of having prepared ahead of time. Take for instance a data-load that goes awry where financial data is affected due to a single row that is off by 1 decimal place. It could take hours (possibly days) of deciphering the root cause, especially where an integration path exists.

It is at these times when a backup solution will be a great asset (and antidote) to get your data back to equilibrium. It's no different than having an insurance policy with a large, tangible asset when a disaster strikes, as without it, the costs alone could set you back more than what you bargained for. With a plan at the ready which includes an automated and recurring Backup and Restore regimen, you get not only peace of mind when data-issues occur, but at the same time enforce compliance and data retention. By storing your data in a location outside of your premise, you are automatically following a best-practice that for years to come will be relevant, especially if your firm has requirements for safeguarding your data for a specific length of time (i.e. 7-10 years). The Only Way To Carnegie Hall - Practice With your documented plan in place, your enthusiasm for overcoming threats or recovering from unintended data loss should be at an all-time high. But what happens if an issue occurs a few days after your newly minted plan? This gets us to the final critical step in your process which is the testing phase, and while it takes just a small amount of effort, it may surprise you how often it's not practiced. With the majority of time spent on the plan itself, going through a mock-test will bring 2 things to light. Identification of gaps in your documentation, and clarity of the restore process. Practiced regularly (i.e. each quarter), you can be confident that when issues occur, you have the knowledge to proceed with a cool head having gone through the entire process. It's the same routine that firefighters adopt on a daily basis, and if they regularly perform drills in an effort to save lives, practicing your plan every 3 months is a small price to ensure your team is alert and ready for any data issue that comes your way. In short, don't wait for the problem to show its teeth… assume it will happen by being proactive.

__________________________________________________________________________________________ Title Image by Insider Art | Root Cause by ThinkReliability

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aryacollegeofengineering · 24 days

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Role of Sencha Ext JS in your engineering career

Sencha Ext JS for Engineers

In today’s world, there is a great demand from successful companies. It is important to be valued by the customers. Creating a perfect product that meets the client’s top requirements helps students of best engineering colleges in Jaipur reach success. Companies usually strive to make inner processes as smooth as possible. They value time and know how the real costing. Due to this, the software companies refer to the Ext JS framework when they require to create something complex yet user-friendly.

The Essence Of Ext JS And Its Components

Ext JS is a well-known JavaScript framework that is used to create complex web and mobile applications for numerous devices. Its UI components has over 140 pieces and include grids, forms, menus, trees, HTML5 calendar, panels. Such an extensive library is a real treasure, as it boosts up the development process and makes the end product perfect for its users.

This type of software stands apart from different other types. Such applications are very sophisticated and labor-intensive. For instance, a document management system requires a significant time to be developed and completely tested. Enterprise-level applications are based on automating inner business processes and improving a company’s efficiency.

Companies have their huge online platform where they sell tons of different items. This company just cannot exist without a particular system that helps students of top engineering college in Jaipur organize all the processes related to storing, selling, buying, etc. It is basically an order management system that has to deal with the payment processes, shipping goods, purchase of new goods, stock count, etc. Thus, this system may require many different components like a grid to sort and group orders, items, payments, etc., an exporter to create reports, layouts to make every element look good, and so on.

Why Do Enterprises Choose Ext JS?

Ext JS is a common choice for most enterprise level projects. This is because it lets you to save time on development and make the process easier, there are no compatibility issues, many multiplatform benefits, and you get great support services from Sencha. None of the free frameworks do the job better than Ext JS because they do not possess the power and convenience that the Ext JS framework does. Of course, students of engineering colleges in Jaipur can compare it with several free, open-source frameworks, but it would be pointless to do so.

Some giants like Apple, Adobe, Cisco, Microsoft, Nvidia, Samsung, and others prefer Ext JS over others. All their products are extremely effective, user-friendly, and visually appealing. This was achieved due to the extensive components library that is optimized for desktop and mobile devices. Both types of applications can be easily themed, and makes every brand unique.

Reasons to choose an Extension of JavaScript are as follows:

Faster Development Process

EXT JS has multiple UI components that are ready to use, this cuts the time spent on software development. Consequently, it allows companies to save money and stay within their budget.

Fast and Easy Prototyping

With the help of Sencha’s “designer” tool, developing a prototype by the students of private engineering colleges in Jaipur takes lesser time when compared to a project done from scratch.

No Compatibility Issues

While working with DOM manipulation methods, an individual can easily face some issues related to browser compatibility. However, Ext JS lets you utilize JQuery or something similar, Ext JS's advantage lies in multiple UI components that go along with it.

The Value of Integrated Tools

The main objective of the Ext JS framework is to allow developers to design perfect and scalable web apps. With all of Sencha’s components and additional tools, an individual can pace up the software development process. Everything is meant to work together very smoothly.

Comparatively, other frameworks are only microframeworks and provide the developer with one small part of the solution required for the app development. So, consequently, very often they have to combine other frameworks and libraries together. Therefore, the long road to the final result requires more effort, time, and resources.

Sencha’s Support

The Ext JS support team works quickly. Once students of best BTech colleges Jaipur posted a question or an issue on their forum or sent an email, the working solution is to be delivered to you ASAP. It helps you save time on software development. This thing is very rare for free, open-source frameworks. Some of them have no support, so one of the few options you have is to ask other experienced developers a question somewhere on the Internet and hope to receive an answer.

What Are The Major Benefits?

For many years already, big enterprises prefer Ext JS to other frameworks. There are various reasons for it. Enterprise developers value it for accessibility, flexibility, ease of use. On the other hand, the big companies always keep in mind that such an approach in development will save precious time, effort, and money. Some of the major benefits of using Ext JS for complex projects are as follows:

Higher team productivity

Using Ext JS increases the development team efficiency. It integrates into the dev environments easily through IDE plugins.

Lower development costs

Ext JS framework is a box solution that helps you keep everything in one place. There is no need to look for complex choices or reinvent the wheel; students of top BTech colleges just choose what you need and take it. This will save time for the end-product development and, as a result, allows you to stay within the budget.

High-quality product

Due to the extensive library that contains different types of UI components, you should receive a perfect product in the end. No matter who are the end-users of it, either your employees, or your clients, Ext JS will ensure the user experience is at its maximum possible. The difficult and professional widgets will create a compelling UI.

Conclusion

Ext JS is a perfect framework for individuals who need to create custom software within a short time and with less effort. It does have a paid license, but it will pay off once you launch the product. The Ext JS framework guarantees you a fast launch, perfect run, and reliable support. No matter whether you create a product for your company or clients, the final result will speak for itself.

Source: Click Here

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educationtech · 1 year

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Sencha Ext JS - Revolutionize Your Web Development - Arya College

The Essence Of Ext JS And Its Components

Companies have their huge online platform where they sell tons of different items. This company just cannot exist without a particular system that helps students of top engineering colleges in Jaipur organize all the processes related to storing, selling, buying, etc. It is basically an order management system that has to deal with the payment processes, shipping goods, purchase of new goods, stock count, etc. Thus, this system may require many different components like a grid to sort and group orders, items, payments, etc., an exporter to create reports, layouts to make every element look good, and so on.

Why Do Enterprises Choose Ext JS?

Reasons to choose an Extension of JavaScript are as follows:

Faster Development Process

EXT JS has multiple UI components that are ready to use, this cuts the time spent on software development. Consequently, it allows companies to save money and stay within their budget.

Fast and Easy Prototyping

With the help of Sencha’s “designer” tool, developing a prototype by the students of private engineering colleges in Jaipur takes lesser time when compared to a project done from scratch.

No Compatibility Issues

The Value of Integrated Tools

Sencha’s Support

What Are The Major Benefits?

Higher team productivity

Using Ext JS increases the development team efficiency. It integrates into the dev environments easily through IDE plugins.

Lower development costs

High-quality product

Conclusion

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silverloreley · 1 year

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That is great that you are happy without using all these social media platforms... I often feel that I would be happier if I lived my life in real life more and made real contacts instead of fake ones on social media and kept things private instead... but people are just glued to the phone or the laptop and it's hard to convince them that real life communication is more interesting...

Mind you, the fact I'm fine without social media doesn't mean I have this great social life outside, I spend a lot of time with my nose in books, on my writing, or just in my head, and I have a couple people I can count on being mostly there when we are together (aka offline and really communicating), plus some great virtual friends I met here, and that's about it, nothing overly special, just good enough for me.

And yes, people have become addicted to this stuff and it's a bit tiring finding those who are not, but they exist, I promise. Few, perhaps, but more than you think. Don't try to convince others, live like you want and they will see and follow, and you may find likeminded people on the way.

#question answered

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conwaymccoy · 1 year

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Choosing Sharepoint Online Backup

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