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#i suck at fashion but hey it’s aliens who care
vollzeh · 2 years
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i showed my friend some superjail episodes, and afterwards they said to me, “I expected the triplet’s clothes to be more revealing ngl,” so I deliver my vision on what I think that would look like… :3
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for-male-readers · 1 year
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nightwing x reader
the reader in this one is gender neutral for the most part, but since this is a male reader/oc blog that’s who it’s targeted to. thanks for reading! this is my second post for the week lol so see you next week with another oneshot or maybe another series installment who knows 
its short i know leave me ALONE 
    Meeting Grayson was one of the worst days of your life. Work sucked and it seemed the entire city was against you. Being in your line of work, it wasn't irregular to feel like that, but today was just one of those days. To finish off the night, some freakshow in an alleyway decided you looked ripe for a mugging and slammed you into a brick wall, head bouncing against it, hard. He held a dull blade to your neck and asked for your belongings. You sighed, trying to keep a sob down. You felt someone land at the end of the alleyway and start to say something, but you managed to slap the knife out of his hands and kick one of his knees in. You snapped your eyes to the end where the second stranger was standing, now frozen in the middle of his sentence, and decided he wasn't an active threat, so you spun on your heels and started walking back home.
   "Hey!" you heard before the same landing noise came from two feet in front of you. He was shorter than you but was wearing the most ridiculous suit ever. It was blue and black and his mask didn't help make him look any more serious.    "Don't 'hey' me, what the hell are you wearing?" you couldn't stop yourself before the sentence came out. He looked stunned like nobody had ever called his fashion sense into question before. "Whatever you want, you aren't getting it dressed like that."    "Ouch," he smiled, and even though he really looked stupid, it was so pretty. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right. You hit your head pretty hard back there." He shifted his weight like he was nervous but his face said otherwise; he was smirking.    "I'll be fine, I can take care of myself."    "I don't doubt that; I saw what you did back there." You stared right at him, unimpressed. He said it like that was the pinnacle of self-defense you could produce. "Not everybody can do that."    "Listen, dude, I've had the day of my fucking life, if you wanna get in my way too, be my guest. I need to feed my dog," you shoved past him, "Get lost."    You still felt his eyes on you as you walked away. That was on the corner of 37th and second ave, almost a year ago.    Unfortunately, that wasn't the first time you had to fight your way out of an interaction having to do with Grayson; a month later you woke up to TwoFace absolutely suplexing a bucket of ice water on your face.    "What the fuck?!" Great question, really, but it wasn't like you were in the capacity to ask a better one.    "Don't worry, no harm will come to you, so long as I get my NightWing, as promised!"    "You fucking slut, this is a fucking Armani dress shirt!" You kept moving the ropes tying your hands together to slip out of them. "Do you know how fucking much this cost me? I'll fucking kill you." You realized he didn't think to tie your feet down. Not that it would prevent the inevitable, but it would have slowed you down. You got your hands on his gun and threw it across the room, (for some reason, he was alone in this warehouse) and you simply knocked his ass out.    Grayson got there a few minutes later, to find you, hands covered in blood, and outside of the warehouse after managing to break the locks on the chains keeping the doors closed.    "Took you fuckin' long enough," you mumbled, again shoving past him. You waved at the other two heroes accompanying him, Red Hood and Starfire, you think. You had to peel the dress shirt off you before the walk home, though, because if you spent another second wearing it in the Gotham air, you were sure to catch some sort of cold.    "I can fly you home if you would let me," the alien said, obviously with kind intentions, but you refused.    "No, thank you, I have to do some thinking anyways, a walk would do me some good." Red Hood stopped you with a hand on your bare chest.    "One of us is gonna walk you home, dude." He didn't provide more details, so you walked past him to find where the hell you were to find your apartment. He silently followed you the whole way to your door. You thanked him later with a brand new rifle to the manor. He punched you in the face the next time he saw you. (Apparently, there's a no-guns rule for Batman and you got him in trouble).    Luckily, the manor accepted flowers and fruit baskets, so you could apologize for the thank-you gift. Batman got to know you through the two of his kids, Jason and Dick.    "Y'know," Dick said, leaning further back into you if that was even possible. "You could always come here with us." There'd been a series of break-ins that resulted in murders in your exact apartment building. You handled it, of course, but he didn't know that. He didn't need to know.    "And lose my firearm privileges? No, thank you." while you could definitely handle a threat without a gun, there was a sense of security in having one. Bruce might disapprove of it all he wants, but he can't make you get rid of them, no matter how much his son has sex with you.    "I'm sure Master Bruce would disapprove of your firearm possession, but he doesn't have to know either," Alfred whispered to the two of you. "I've my own, he doesn't know about it." You swore you could see a smirk grace his lips as he said it, but it vanished almost immediately. You and Dick shared a look, 'never cross Alfred'.    You did end up moving into the manor, shortly after a meeting with Bruce about weapons in which he allowed one gun at all times on his property, and you agreed. It's not like you needed any more to do some damage.    The only problem came when you and Grayson showed any form of PDA, even if just a tap-kiss, all his siblings would shout in protest, gagging in mock disgust, sometimes even throwing something at the two of you. Which, of course, only resulted in Grayson yanking you closer and deepening the kiss or whatever. Not that you were complaining, of course. You'd kiss him stupid if he let you, and he often did.
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I would like to hear about the Arcee and Jack parasite story 👍
Hey anon, sorry this took so long. I'm bad at collecting thoughts and also timely communication lmao 😂
Ok, so. No war AU. Cybertronians suddenly descend to earth and the humans, completely unprepared, are entirely at their mercy. They round up all the organics, and they all undergo medical testing. Many are released back to earth, and no one who stays aboard the ships sees them again. Yada yada etc etc, we've been over this already.
Every human that is kept in captivity is given an id number, tattooed or perhaps branded on their neck. Idk, it doesn't matter. Jack's number is J-101311. Poor kid has no idea what is going on, expects to be dissected or smthn. But no, what they have in store for him is much, much worse 🤭 He and a gaggle of other humans--all young adults like him--are auctioned off and shipped out. The robot that purchased him is blue and pink and a bit smaller than the others. Arcee.
She takes him back to her habsuite aboard the Ark, or perhaps her own personal space cruiser thing. Idk, again, it's not important. Then, basically, we get to a scene similar to Alien--maybe an extendable glossa or a tendril straight from her spark, but she shoves it down his throat and deposits a spark pod in his stomach. Human stomachs are a great place for their little spark pods to mature--the hydrochloric acid is a great deterrent for anything that might try to hurt them, it's toasty warm, and the stomach fuels the entire body. The sparkling anchors itself to the walls, and the incubation officially begins. Humans are particularly small, and as such the sparklings they create are teeny tiny, the most adorable little things! They've been quietly snatching up spare ones for years, but finally the invasion plan is ready. Arcee's been on a waiting list for years for her turn to reproduce, and finally it's time!
The incubation process takes several months--the sparkling harvests the iron from his blood, causing anemia over time. It sucks up all of his body's trace amounts of magnesium, phosphorous, mercury, even the calcium from his bones to make it's body.
Due to the human need for companionship, Jack actually finds himself making friends with Arcee despite his best efforts. She takes excellent care of him--he hosts a piece of her future, after all, and a healthy host means a healthy sparkling. She makes sure he recharges regularly, makes sure he refuels, makes sure he never misses the weekly check ups with the medic. She's gentle with him, kind, and it makes him miss his mother. He wonders where she is. Hopes she's not suffering the same fate as him.
They become very close, and even as he gets sicker and sicker, it gets harder and harder for him to hate her. She's genuinely a nice lady. She's never cruel or condescending. To her, this is normal. She was born the same way, as were all of her people.
They talk about names together. She tells him all the things she can't wait to do with her newspark, fantasizing about rocking them and playing with their bitty servos, and even thanking him for his sacrifice. He's not stupid, he knows he's not going to survive the process. He can feel it in his stomach, a constant, concentrated weight that's hard to lug around even without his muscles atrophying.
The day draws near, and the medic reports that emergence could occur any day. Arcee has everything ready for her son or daughter, and is on pins and needles with excitement. Jack is terrified, but... what can he do, really? Does he want to spend his last moments screaming and crying, hysterically begging someone to stop this? Not particularly, no.
Now, the emergence can go one of two ways. It could either be in true chest-burster fashion, with the newspark instinctively tunneling it's way out through his stomach and then abdomen, or the sparkling crawling up the esophageal tubing and out through the mouth. One is guaranteed to kill him, the other gives him a slim chance at staying alive (possibly for another incubation if I really wanted to twist it)
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cabensonsgirly · 3 years
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👼Baby's Got Trouble. Don't Know How To Live. Don't Want To Die. (Cordelia Goode)👼
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Cordelia Goode x fem!reader
👼Part 6 of SP getting reader pregnant👼
👼Slice 2👼
Co-authored with @billiedeannovak
Somewhat au but more so later xx
👼Wordcount: 3131👼
👼Posted on AO3: Read Here👼
👼Content: Fiona (I know a lot of y'all hate her so she's here for you to hate her more xx), slow-burn, angst, fluff, mentions of blood, mild violence, feelings👼
👼You closed your eyes, resting your hands flat against the cold wood of the door as you started your breathing exercises. Soon each breath came in and filled your lungs as if you were breathing for the first time ever, each one as refreshing as the last. When you opened your eyes and swore in shock upon seeing there was another blonde standing in front of you, looking at you as if you were some alien.👼
As you put what clothing you had in the set of drawers you realised you would need to go shopping very soon or else you’d end up wearing a towel while you waited for your items to wash and dry. You hoped that classes today finished quickly so that you could bus to the mall and spend what little money you had in savings on clothing. Shit. That’s another problem. You didn’t have a job anymore so should you need new shoes or personal items how are you going to be able to pay for them?
You swore loudly and hit the drawers in frustration, why couldn’t you just be normal? Outside you could hear the girls speaking, well- yelling: “Hey! That new girl seems to have anger issues! Cordelia are you sure she’s not gonna murder us or anything?” It feels as though the walls have ears, which wouldn’t be surprising seeing as the whole building felt like it was pulsing with energy. Maybe it was the sheer amount of witches converging in this one place or maybe it was the history of the building itself. A quick google search shows that this place was built in the late 1700s or something so, to put it mildly, it was really fucking old.
You take your phone off charge and slip it into your back pocket before leaving your room, closing the door behind you although you feel as though a shut door wont stop the others from snooping. The moment the door clicked shut behind you it was as if air was sucked from your lungs, each breath becoming harder no matter how deep a breath you took. You closed your eyes, resting your hands flat against the cold wood of the door as you started your breathing exercises. Soon each breath came in and filled your lungs as if you were breathing for the first time ever, each one as refreshing as the last. When you opened your eyes and swore in shock upon seeing there was another blonde standing in front of you, looking at you as if you were some alien.
“You’ve got a mouth on you. I like it. The rest of you?” She steps back, tilting her head to the side as she looks you up and down before shrugging “You’re alright looking. Could probably do with better clothes or none at all but hey, we all start somewhere, right?” You give her an incredulous look “thanks, I guess?” before moving past her and heading down the stairs, thanking the stars that Cordelia is at the bottom of them. “I saw you and Madison having a chat, hopefully she wasn’t too” she screws her face up a little and does a vague gesture with her hands “Madisony.”
You laugh lightly, a light blush settling on Cordelia’s cheeks as well. “She was- is, certainly something. Said that I would look better with nicer clothes on or none at all. Which I mean…” You bite your bottom lip slightly and give her a wink before laughing “God I’m sorry. That was- That was not appropriate.” Cordelia blinks a few times in shock, her cheeks taking on a darker colour and she looks down then back at you before turning away completely. “I- Well… Let’s- I’ll show you where we have breakfast.”
It didn’t take you long for you to get settled in at the academy, after the first week of trepidation and nerves had ran their course, you found yourself getting along well with most of the girls there; you and Cordelia had become closer too, surprising yourself with how quickly you had become close to her in six months. Madison still felt the need to get you out of your clothing because apparently nothing you wore looked good on you. You couldn’t care less about what she had to say, you were more concerned about what the hellhound had to say, Fiona. Don’t let her catch you saying that though or else you’d find yourself becoming well acquainted with the wall.
The woman fucking terrified you, and it wasn’t just because she was Supreme. She just gave off the distinct impression that she hated everyone, especially her daughter which pissed you off to no end. Here Cordelia was running the academy while her mother is off galivanting around the world, in fact, she’s still running it but according to Fiona she was a disgrace. Maybe you should introduce her to your own mother, they would get on like a house on fire, which is probably what the outcome would be.
Both women were alcoholics and smoked as though cigarettes would soon go out of fashion, both women also hated their daughters with a burning passion. You could understand your mother hating you, but you couldn’t understand why Fiona hated Cordelia; she was an amazing woman and mentor to you, she treated you like you were the most precious being she’s ever met and even when you slipped up, she was there to help you until you were successful.
In order to avoid running into the hellhound that had returned, you spent most, if not all, of your time outside under one of the trees reading through books and notes. The woman rarely went into the garden so you felt quite safe out here. It was peaceful, the wind danced through the leaves making them join in on the waltz, the sounds that the birds sung took you away from being in the city and into the wilderness, it amazed you how much life was on this property despite it being surrounded by so many other buildings, it should be suffocating but it isn’t.
You rest your head back against the tree, looking up through its branches and leaves to see speckles of blue from the sky poke through. “So this is where you run off to hide when the Supreme comes back to play… I don’t know what my daughter sees in you. All you do is sit around with your nose in those damned books or spend time in that greenhouse Cordelia insists on having. Are you even really a witch?”
Your head snapped down to see who was speaking, but you already had a clear idea of who it was. Your eyes landed on the older blonde, your cheeks taking on colour due to embarrassment. “I- I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t a witch, ma’am. Surely you’d know that being the Supreme and all.” She scoffed and narrowed her eyes at you, “And I thought you’d know a rhetorical question when it hits you in the face, but clearly you don’t. The only thing that could be more obvious is your silly little infatuation with Cordelia. I don’t know who is more idiotic between the two of you. You for liking my daughter, or my daughter for thinking you are capable of becoming a powerful witch.”
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes, knowing that if she caught you, you would end up rather worse for wear. You close your books then pick them up as you stand, “well, as always, ma’am, it hasn’t been a pleasure. I know for a fact that one day, Cordelia will be an incredibly powerful witch and you will regret all the times you have treated her like shit.” In a move that surprises not only yourself but the Supreme, you found yourself disappearing before reappearing in Cordelia’s office, startling her.
“How- How did I just? I was- your mom and in the garden and now- what?” You turned around, checking to see if you were actually in one piece and actually in Cordelia’s office before looking at her, confusion visible on your face. She pushes back from her desk before standing up and making her way over to you, her eyebrows furrowed in thought and her eyes twinkling with curiosity behind her glasses.
“Transmutation. The ability to move from one place to another instantaneously without occupying the space in between… You have to have where you want to be clear in mind but even then it can still end catastrophically.” Cordelia whispers as she walks around you slowly, examining to see whether or not you’re injured in anyway before returning to stand in front of you, a proud smile on her face. “It’s one of the skills a witch must master in order to become Supreme, but that is still quite some time away for you. Of all the places you could go to escape from being tormented by my mother… you chose here.”
You blush and look down, a shy smile on your face “Where else would I go?” You raise your gaze to meet hers, biting your bottom lip slightly when you notice her cheeks are now a lovely shade of pink. “Oh- Well- well there’s so many rooms here and- and you have your own and- and there’s just- there are so many places but- but you chose here and I just-“ You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at how flustered Cordelia has become. “Delia,” you grin, shaking your head slightly “has anyone told you lately how cute you are when flustered?”
The blonde’s eyes widen and her cheeks take on an even darker colour, she pushes her glasses up her nose, taking her bottom lip between her teeth shyly. “No- No well- No because usually they just think I’m being annoying because I tend to ramble and then I get embarrassed and just trail off before I get told to shut up” she rushes out, her voice barely above a whisper. You move your hand and brush some of her hair behind her ear, your hand lingering on her cheek before you both spring away from each other when the door opens.
“Ah Cordelia, there you are. I was wondering where you were, your mother is in one of her moods again. Something about ‘that new witch’ and ‘she just vanished after running her mouth’, she is drinking herself into a stupor, you know how she gets.” You move out of the way so Myrtle can enter the room, your blush only darkening at her words.
“So, little witch, what did you do and say to get our Supreme in such a mood?” Your eyes dart between her and Cordelia, desperately hoping she would make you disappear but nothing happened, and you were too flustered to make yourself disappear. “I- I didn’t really- I didn’t do anything that- that would make any rational witch- er, sorry Delia you know what I mean though… would make anyone flip their lid. She- She was talking poorly about Delia and I couldn’t just let her continue because Delia is wonderful and beautiful and amazing and smart and” You go wide-eyed and look down “I- Sorry… I- Anyway” you clear your throat before looking back at Myrtle.
“So- So I said that Delia will become an extremely powerful witch one day and- and that she’d regret all the times she has treated Delia like shit. Then- Then apparently I transmuted into Delia’s office.” Myrtle raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips tugging up in a faint smirk as she turns to look at Cordelia. “Seems like you have a witch in shining armour, Cordelia. One who is growing into her abilities more each time I see her; you’re an excellent mentor to her. Little witch, I think the girls were looking for you.”
You dip your head, a shy smile on your face before you take your leave, thanking both witches as you close the door behind you. Your hand lingered on the doorknob as you rest your forehead against the door, your eyes closing briefly. If you weren’t careful, you thought you’d end up back in the room again, you wouldn’t complain if that were the case but you were already borderline inappropriate with the headmistress so you took your leave, heading to where the girls slept knowing this is where they spend most of their time. Each step you took on the floor bounced off the walls, the sound echoing throughout the neoclassical interior.
Myrtle lets out a sigh, shaking her head as she sits down in front of Cordelia’s desk. She runs her hand over the surface before resting it on her lap on top of her other one, “What are you doing, Cordelia? What is going on between you two? Nobody, not even your mother, was capable of transmuting under such duress at that age, yet Yn did. She did, and she found herself in your office. So don’t lie to me, Cordelia.”
Cordelia runs her fingers through her head as she paces back and forth in front of Myrtle, stopping occasionally to rub her face with her hands before continuing, clearly bugged by something. “Nothing. Nothing is going on between us. It- It can’t happen. She’s my student. It wouldn’t be appropriate. Not even accounting for what the others would think and say about it. They’d say I’m playing favourites and- and that she’s only getting good grades because she’s sleeping with me. I can’t. It- It can’t happen.” She shakes her head and slumps into her seat, leaning against her desk where she rests her face in her hands, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s- It’s not a good idea, Myrtle.”
The red-haired witch makes an exasperated sound, looking at Cordelia with an expression she hadn’t seen since Myrtle had had enough of Fiona. “Don’t make the same mistakes as your mother, Cordelia. You are stopping yourself from being happy because you’re too afraid of what might happen.” She sits back in the seat, pointing a finger at the blonde “you are still scared about what your mother has to say about you.” Myrtle’s expression softens, her eyes no longer steely but now filled with nothing but sincerity for the woman that sat in front of her. “You can’t go through life like this. You need to find out what you want, and whether or not you are willing to do whatever it takes to get there.”
Meanwhile you were currently sitting in a small circle on the floor with Madison, Queenie, and Zoe. You had been roped into a game of Truth or Dare, which is a game you had managed to avoid for a vast majority of your life because you hated it. Why did you hate this game? Because it gave people the perfect opportunity to force information out of you, and into doing things you wouldn’t usually do. “Yn, truth of dare? No you can’t opt out, we’ve been over this already” you groan in annoyance, rolling your eyes before responding “truth.”
Madison claps her hands together and her eyes sparkle dangerously, a look you had desperately been trying to prevent from being directed towards you seeing as the last time she gave you that look you had found yourself pinned against your bedroom wall with her pressed up against you because you had said she wouldn’t win in a fight against you, yet she did and you ended up with very angry marks on your neck for the rest of the week. You breathed out a quiet “shit” which the other girls laughed and nodded in agreement with.
“Are you sleeping with Cordelia?” She quirked an eyebrow, a salacious smirk spreading across her face. In comparison, you blushed furiously, your eyes wide in shock and you didn’t come to until Zoe gave you a hard smack on your back, forcing you to cough out a breath before you started breathing normally again. “No! No. No I don’t- No! No. We’ve never- I haven’t- No.” You shake your head in disbelief “jesus Mad, where the fuck did that come from??”
All the girls had started laughing, Madison’s being the loudest of them all. “There is clearly something going on between you two, you both practically eye-fuck each whenever you’re in the same room. So, spill.”
You shoot her a glare, taking a few deep breathes to stop yourself from tossing her across the room like Fiona does. “There isn’t anything going on Madison, for fuck sake. Nothing can happen. Nothing will ever happen. She’s my teacher, our teacher. She’s the fucking headmistress of this place! And besides, you lot would say I’m only passing because I’m sleeping with her.” You sigh sadly and stand up before leaving “this is why no one likes you Madison.” The walk back to your room felt like it took forever, each step seeming to take you further away from your destination, the only thing running through your mind was how close you were to Cordelia yet somehow so far from her.
“Why do you look like how my daughter is after spending five minutes alone with me? What happened, did she break your poor little heart?” The woman laughs, the sound shooting through you as the waft of smoke from her cigarette hits you. “Although she is pathetic, she is also a Goode and she can do so much better than you.” You look at Fiona, a defeated expression on your face as you shrugged “Nothing has happened between us. Nothing will ever happen between us. So don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m not the one ruining the Goode name, you have that sorted out all on your own.”
You move past her and into your room, going to close the door but a shriek is torn from you as your flung against the wall, hitting it with a thud before landing unceremoniously on the floor. You scramble to sit up against the wall, eyes never leaving Fiona as she moves further into your room, her eyes wild. “You may be skilled with transmutation, and you may be my stupid daughter’s favourite, but I am still the fucking Supreme.”
You wipe your nose, cursing quietly when your hand comes away red; closing your eyes you took a deep breath, then when you opened them and exhaled the bleeding had stopped. “What- What do you want then, my Supreme?” You sneered at her despite feeling anything close to fighting. The older woman flicks her hair out of her face, tilting her chin up as she looks down at you “I want you to remember your fucking place. I don’t care how quickly you’re learning to master magic, you will never be at the same level as me.” She moves closer to you until she’s standing over you, her nose screwed up in disgust “you will never be anything more than a nobody that was picked up off the streets because her own family didn’t want her. You aren’t even wanted here.” Fiona gave you one more look over, shaking her head before she leaves, slamming the door behind her.
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skinks · 4 years
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I see your “fake/pretend dating” scenarios and I ask instead of you: “we’re secretly together and desperately trying to hide it” scenarios
Richie and Eddie finally get their shit together a week before Bev and Ben’s wedding, and after a whole lot of arguing and contingency plans and naked, sweaty discussion, they decide that if they don’t wanna steal that hetero thunder, they have to try their hardest to act like they’re not a Thing
and it’s a mess. They spend the whole week of bachelor parties (Losers plus Patty sans Bev get sad drunk and wish Bev was there) and bachelorette parties (Losers plus Patty sans Ben wear feather boas and get sorority drunk with Bev’s fashion friends, gossip about Ben and sing karaoke) pretending they’re not sneaking off to bone in every unoccupied room they possibly can
It’s a MESS. Richie figures the years of practice at pathetic, secret longing mean they should be better at this than they are. Like yeah, they’re still hovering in this awkward limbo stage where it’s both terribly exciting and horribly embarrassing to be crossing meat swords with your long lost best bro, while knowing you’re both totally into it, but they already acted so couple-y beforehand that it’s probably WEIRDER if Eddie stops smiling all fond and fixing Richie’s hair, or if Richie stops slinging his arm around Eddie at every opportunity. But that’s letting their guard down, and they keep freezing and jumping apart in the middle of casual conversation. They’re standing with Bill and Audra and Patty and Mike in some hotel function room, discussing whether or not stealing Ben’s yacht is feasible when Richie oh-so-gently says “hey—c’mere,” and wipes a smudge of chocolate fondue (contains nuts!!) from Eddie’s mouth with his thumb. Everyone stops talking. Everyone stares. Eddie stares. And Richie needs to duck and cover so he sort of - slaps him? Not even hard enough to make a noise, it’s more of a tap-then-push. He pushes Eddie’s face. “Is that Staniel I hear,” Richie says, after a moment.
“I don’t hear anything,” Patty says.
“No no, that’s definitely Stan,” Richie says, backing swiftly to the door. Eddie’s eyes are on him accusing and hot, dark brown like the chocolate smeared on Richie’s thumb. Later, Eddie will suck the taste off where it’s stuffed in his mouth to keep quiet as they fuck below deck in Ben’s stolen yacht, Mike and Bill fighting overhead about who gets to wear the blue and white captain’s hat. Eddie’s pants are barely even pulled down. Richie does his Quint From Jaws Voice and goes duh-dun, duh-dun as Eddie pushes inside so Eddie will bite his thumb and fuck him harder. It’s all very undignified, and illicit, and stupid. Eddie loves it. “I have great ears, Pattycake, and Stanley makes this sort of, uh, echolocation type noise when he’s having issues with hotel staff. I should know, I went on vacation once with his family, to the Catskills? Stan spilled soup on a waiter and every bat in the fuckin’ place came right outta the forest and flew into the buffet. Don’t ask him about it though, one man’s vigilante origin story is another man’s traumatic childhood. Okay bye.” Richie definitely doesn’t run, but running away is more about aura than gait.
Audra frowns. “Did he just imply Batman didn’t have a traumatic childhood?”
“Haha,” Eddie deflects, stuffing his hand in his pocket, and missing. “He must’ve had the shrimp. Fucked up that he’s the one with the actual shellfish allergy, right? Isn’t that irony, or something?”
“That would be ironic, if you didn’t know everything we’re all allergic to by heart and would never let Richie eat shrimp,” Bill says, still staring.
“I would,” Eddie says immediately. He can’t find his fucking pocket. “I would totally let Richie eat shrimp.”
“You slapped his slice of pizza out of his hand last week because there was oyster sauce in the marinara,” Mike says, but Eddie is already actually running away. Wow, he’s fast.
Even with the Losers, Richie’s only out by implication, but it’d still be weird if he, for some reason, brought a woman as his date. He thinks about bringing Sven the Sound Guy because he’s as opposite to Eddie as it’s possible to find on short notice since Guy Fieri was unavailable, but he can’t decide whether this is genius cover or so on the nose as to be damning. He goes stag in the end, which is perhaps most damning of all. Eddie is in Schrodinger’s closet, because he doesn’t have to answer either way if nobody fucking asks him, and nobody does, because Eddie always starts doing whatever he’s currently doing to an incredibly intense level whenever the conversation turns to dating. One time at dinner when they were all in the same city for one of Richie’s tentative, low-key comeback shows, someone mentioned post-divorce dating apps, and then someone simply said the word Grindr not even in Eddie’s direction and Eddie cut his steak so hard he scratched the plate. This was an achievement in and of itself seeing as the clown took Eddie’s fork-arm, but Richie was spearing his steak for him while he cut it. He’s an enabler. An enabler to steak, and freakouts.
Anyway, even with all of this, it’s still weird that Eddie brings a woman. She’s Paula. From work. Stan sees her checking her phone so often that he figures out she’s one of the women in the matching white wedding dresses on her lock screen. Stan nudges Patty, who becomes very insistent that they should tell Eddie before he gets his heart broken, but Eddie is probably too busy periodically kicking out the backs of Richie’s knees to make him wobble and buckle against the bar to notice, or care.
Bev has great fucking aim, is the thing. There’s a lost catapult and a space-alien dead as a dodo can attest to it, but she’s still facing the opposite direction and could never predict that her bouquet toss would bounce off two different bridesmaids’ heads, straight into Richie’s hands. They’re so beautiful. White and orange and a rich, nautical blue that matches Eddie’s suit, tidily pinned up at the right shoulder and pressed hard into Richie’s side. Bev is laughing delightedly and Ben is taking a photo, and Eddie has been getting steadily drunker ever since he got back half an hour ago from gratefully sending Paula home to her wife in an Uber with some cake. He’s all pink across the bridge of his nose and he looks so fucking adorable with Ben’s blue and white yacht captain hat tilted on his head at a rakish angle, and the others are all catcalling so hard that Richie figures they might as well give up the pretense. He kicks out the back of Eddie’s knees so he’ll buckle into Richie’s flowery arms and fucking DIPS him like that old wartime photo even though Eddie’s the one with the sailor hat getting knocked off his head because they’re kissing so enthusiastically, clinging to the back of Richie’s neck and snortlaughing into his mouth, but suddenly everyone’s shouting, and they all sound - not pissed, exactly, but certainly indignant
“Are you guys serious,” Bill says, “you’re stealing their thunder right now? One major childhood romance realized isn’t enough, you’re gonna crash theirs?”
“Wait,” Richie says
Bev throws up her hands. Richie can’t see, because of her dress, but he’s pretty sure her foot is actually tapping. “Why didn’t you tell us!”
Eddie is still dangling off him like a monkey, all stunned-drunk limp with the bouquet shoved in his face. Richie hears what uh oh sounds like muffled by flowers, and Ben silently takes another photo, like he’s cataloguing a crime scene.
“You guys... didn’t know? We actually kept it a secret?”
“Until now, you jackasses!”
“What secret,” Audra asks, appearing with like eight plates of cake. “What’s happening? Oh wait, I’m caught up.”
“But—but—the fondue,” Eddie says, and seriously, it’s not like the clown ripped his legs off, he could try standing and facing this with Richie like a true bro, but Richie’s kind of enjoying the weight of him. Plus he’s pretty sure Bev won’t dare to go through Eddie to kill him, so. Human shield it is.
“What about the fondue?” Mike looks like he did after the end of The Usual Suspects. Like he’s re-evaluating every time Richie and Eddie left a room together, and wishes he wasn’t. “You guys are like that all the time.”
“Then why were you all staring!”
“Nobody was staring! It was a natural lull in conversation, we were weirded out that you were being weird about it! Have you always been this self-centered?”
“I guess so,” Richie shrugs. He looks down at Eddie, covered in pollen and thoroughly confused. He’s so drunk he’s looking kinda cross-eyed. “You hear that, dude? We were killing it, until we fucked it all up!”
Eddie grins up at him. “Good enough!” he slurs, and then lets go of Richie’s neck for a high five. Everyone’s gone back to ignoring them in favour of dancing to Journey, so at least nobody notices Richie’s so eager to return it that he drops Eddie on the floor instead
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debbiechanclub · 4 years
Text
Best Two Out of Three, Part 1
So this started out as anon request for a Chuck Taylor or Orange Cassidy fic, and with the help of @hotyeehawman it somehow morphed into a monster 26-part Adam Page and Kenny Omega fic, with a lot of other folks thrown in. So if you’re finding this for the first time, the good news is it’s complete. Enjoy!
Best Two Out of Three
Synopsis: Orange and Chuck both want their friend Alex to accompany them to the ring for their matches at Double or Nothing - so Alex devises a contest.
Part: 1/26
Pairings: None really in this chapter, but hints at Kenny Omega x OFC
Warnings: Alcohol use, some suggestive language
Word Count: 2,512
Find the rest of the fic here.
“Are you sure it’s cool if I come hang out with you guys?”
Alex sent Kris a look like she’d grown a second head. “Of course it’s cool. I adore Chuck, Trent, and James, but sometimes I need to hang out with another girl.”    
They walked into the hotel elevator and Alex hit the button for the fifth floor. It was the night before AEW Double or Nothing 2020, and the Best Friends were having a little get-together in their rooms. It was a much-needed opportunity to cut loose and experience a little normalcy in the midst of the pandemic, and Alex in particular could use a few cold ones to take the edge off. She was still annoyed with Kenny for giving the match against Kris tomorrow night to Penelope Ford instead of her. She rolled her eyes as the elevator doors slid open with a ding. If he wasn’t over at the arena pre-filming the Stadium Stampede match with the rest of The Elite and The Inner Circle, she might have marched up to his room and given him a piece of her mind.
“So who all’s gonna be there?” Kris asked as they stepped off the elevator.
“The usual suspects,” Alex answered. “My knucklehead stablemates, Scorpio, Frankie, Jack, Austin, and you and me.”
“No Maxwell?”
She smirked. “I told him he could only come if he brought Michael, and then we’d be over the 10-person limit for social gatherings.”
She let out a loud laugh. “So you totally invited Michael behind his back, right?”
“I did,” she confirmed. “But he politely declined.”
They arrived at Alex and Chuck’s room, and she slid her key into the electronic lock. “I’m back with an alien and beer!” she proclaimed as she opened the door—but she got no response. Chuck and James were embroiled in a heated debate; well, about as heated as James, a.k.a. the one and only Orange Cassidy, could get.
“Dude! Why would she come out with you for the ladder match?” Chuck charged.
James’s face remained as stoic as ever. “Because she’s my friend.”
Chuck’s eyebrows arched high onto his forehead. “She’s literally my best friend!”
Ever so slightly, James cocked his head. “Penelope’s probably coming out with Kip for it,” he coolly pointed out.
“Penelope is Kip’s girlfriend!”
“And Alex is my friend who’s a girl.”
“Hey!” Alex interjected as she set the case of beer on the floor. Everyone turned to look at her. “I’m right here.”
“Oh, thank God,” Trent breathed. “You need to settle this. They’ve been arguing since you left.”
Her face contorted with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. “About what?”
“About whether you should accompany Chuck and Trent to the ring for their match or Freshly Squeezed for his match tomorrow night,” Jack answered.
Alex blinked. “And why wouldn’t I just do both?”
“It’s the principle of the matter,” Chuck argued.
James didn’t so much as blink. “What he said.”
Kris snorted under her breath. Alex sent her a look. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”
“Seriously, please put us all out of our misery,” Frankie groaned. “And can I get one of those?” He didn’t wait for permission as he eagerly picked up the beer case and tore into it. But Alex couldn’t care less; the wheels in her brain were turning.
She put her hands on her hips. “Well, there’s only one way to settle this, then: a contest for my accompaniment tomorrow night. Best two out of three wins.”
Chuck pressed his lips into a hard line, thinking. And then he said, “You got yourself a deal.”
Alex looked at James. “Orange?”
He shrugged—barely. “Sure.”
She clapped her hands together in excitement. “Then let the games begin, boys.”
* * * * * * * * * *
They couldn’t just play Rock, Paper, Scissors and call it a night; Alex was more creative than that. In order to be graced with her presence during his match, the winner would have to prove both his strength and wit—and round one was a good old fashioned relay.
“Alright!” Alex commanded everyone’s attention, a beer in hand. “These are the rules for round one. First, you must chug a beer. Second, you must complete twenty-five push-ups—real ones, none of that on-your-knees bullshit. Finally, you must braid either Jack or Austin’s hair. The first one to finish is the winner. Obviously.”
“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Austin muttered.
“But you’ll look so pretty!” Kris proclaimed. He just grunted.
“Alright; Scorpio, I need you to count James’s push-ups,” Alex delegated. “Frankie, you count Chuck’s.”
Frankie laughed to himself. “That won’t be hard.”
“Shut it and give me a beer,” Chuck ordered. He already had his game face on. Alex couldn’t help but admire him for it.
Frankie passed one beer to Chuck and another to James. And then they both looked up at Alex. Waiting.
“On your marks...” she started. “Get set… Go!”
They simultaneously flipped open their drink tabs and started chugging as the room all cheered them on. Alex was genuinely interested to see who would finish first—but she wasn’t surprised when Chuck did. He crushed the can in his fist and tossed it aside just as James finished, and they both got into push-up position. Scorpio and Frankie both started counting; James was going nearly twice as fast as Chuck.
“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen…” Scorpio counted.
“Dude, he’s smoking you,” Trent commented to Chuck.
“Why aren’t you counting out loud?!” Chuck shouted at Frankie.
“Focus!” he returned.
“Twenty! Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five!”
James jumped up and ran over to where Austin sat on one of the beds. He separated his hair into three parts and started trying to braid.
“Twenty-five!” Frankie shouted. Chuck hurried over to Jack—and stared at his hair in bewilderment.
“How the hell am I supposed to do this? His hair is as big as he is!”
“Thank you,” Jack grinned.
He grabbed a chunk of Jack’s curls and tried to separate it from the rest; but before he could figure it out, Kris let out a shout. “Orange wins!”
“Fuck!” Chuck proclaimed.
Alex walked over to inspect James’s braid. Surprisingly, it wasn’t terrible. “Round one goes to Orange Cassidy,” she confirmed.
“Why do you know how to braid hair?” Chuck shot.
James just shrugged.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Alright, boys; time for round two: trivia.”
Alex paused for dramatic affect. Everyone in the room stared back at her, waiting. They were thoroughly invested in this idiotic competition she’d concocted, and she couldn’t be happier about it. “I’ve given our lovely galactic game show host,” she motioned to Kris, “five questions with their correct answers—all of them about yours truly. She will read each question aloud. If you know the answer, buzz in on your respective cell phones with the convenient buzzer app that Trent found; thank you Trent. If you answer incorrectly, the other person will have a chance to steal. First one to three correct answers wins.”
“Cool, let’s go,” Chuck said, his thumb hovering above the buzzer button on his phone screen. Alex pursed her lips; he was too competitive for his own good.
Kris cleared her throat and stood up straighter. She looked down at the hotel room notepad Alex had given her, and read out the first question. “Alright, we’re starting off with an easy one,” she prefaced. “What’s the name of Alex’s submission finisher?”
BZZZ! They both buzzed in—but James beat out Chuck by a second. “Orange?” Kris asked.
“Eighty-Eight Sleeper,” he answered.
“Correct!”
Chuck stubbornly sucked his teeth. “I bet you don’t know why it’s called that.”
James sent him a blank look. “Because it’s a Dragon Sleeper and she was born in 1988, the year of the dragon.”
“He should get an extra point for that,” Frankie piped up.
Chuck rounded on him. “Are you trying to sabotage me?”
“Alright, alright,” Alex intervened. “While that is why it’s called that, there will be no extra points awarded. It’s one-nothing James. Next question, please!”
Kris looked back down at the notepad. “How old was Alex when she started training?”
BZZZ! Chuck shouted out the answer before James even had a chance. “Nineteen! And she was trained by Jimmy Valiant in the same class as Adam Page!”
Kris sent her a surprised look. “Really?”
Alex nodded. “Yup. Hangman and I go way back. But like I just said, there’s no extra points, so we’re tied one-one. I appreciate your enthusiasm, though,” she grinned at Chuck. He didn’t acknowledge it; he was still in competition mode.
“Okay, next question,” Kris started. “Who was Alex’s favorite pro wrestler growing up?”
BZZZ! James beat out Chuck by a hair. But then he paused; he didn’t actually know the answer. “Eddie Guerrero?”
“Wrong!” Kris proclaimed. “Chuck, you have a chance—”
“CHRIS JERICHO!” he shouted before she could finish.
She blinked. “That’s correct.”
“How did you get that wrong?!” Scorpio said to James. “Chris teases her about it practically every time he sees her!”
He shook his head in a rare showing of emotion. “I blanked.”
“Okay. For the third and potentially final question,” Kris dramatically announced. She looked down at the notepad and preemptively laughed as she read the question to herself before stating it aloud. “Who does Alex totally want to punch in the face right now?”
“What?” Chuck and James both sent each other looks of confusion.
“I know it,” Trent muttered.
“OH!” It was as if a lightbulb went off above Chuck’s head and he quickly mashed his buzzer. “Kenny!”
“Yes!” Alex proclaimed. She muttered under her breath as she took a sip of beer, “I totally want to punch Kenny in his stupid face right now.”
“Well then, round two goes to Sexy Chuckie T!” Kris announced.
“YES!” Chuck pointed a finger in James’s face. “You suck!”
“We’re tied,” he flatly returned.
“Yes; indeed you are,” Alex returned. “And that means it’s time for round three --sudden death.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Sudden Death” was nothing more than “Never Have I Ever.” But, quite frankly, Alex was a little nervous. She knew this group of people—and she knew they had little to no shame.
“Okay, these are the rules,” she explained. “We’ll play like normal—but Chuckie and Orange will be the only ones putting down their fingers. The first one to put down all three fingers is the loser of the round.”
“Okay, just to clarify,” Scorpio asked, “so whoever still has fingers up at the end wins the whole thing?”
She nodded. “Correct.”
“I don’t like this,” Chuck said, even as he held up three fingers. “Y’all are gonna say things you know I’ve done to make me lose.”
“Never have I ever been a conspiracy theorist,” Frankie smirked. Chuck didn’t think it was funny.
“Especially you!”
“Alright, he actually has a point,” Alex begrudgingly admitted. “Let’s keep it unbiased. Kris, you start.”
Kris put a finger to her lips in thought. “Hmm… oh, I know,” she smirked. “Never have I ever slid into someone’s DMs.”
Alex let out a loud burst of laughter. “Maybe if Trent was playing,” she commented.
“Jeez, Alex, just put me on blast,” Trent returned.
She just smirked and took another sip of beer.
“So neither of you have done that, either?” Kris asked.
“I’m the Kentucky Gentleman, Kris,” Chuck said as James shook his head.
She arched her eyebrows. “Color me surprised.”
“Alright, all fingers are still up,” Alex said. Let’s go to the right. Scorpio, you’re up.”
Scorpio deviously stroked his chin as he looked back and forth between Chuck and James. “Never have I ever… walked in on people having sex.”
There was an anxious pause—and then Chuck put down a finger.
Alex gasped. “What? Who?!”
He cringed. “Someone at my wrestling school back in Kentucky. It was gross.”
She crinkled her nose in disgust. “Well then. Your turn, Trent.”
He had a statement at the ready. “Never have I ever seen Alex naked.”
“DUDE!” she proclaimed. Meanwhile, Chuck and James both put down a finger.
Jack’s brow furrowed. “Okay. No judgment, but please explain.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “It was an accident, and I was only half-naked. They walked in on me while I was changing earlier.”
“That happened today?” Scorpio asked.
“Hence why I said it,” Trent smirked.
Alex’s cheeks burned. “Next!”
That meant Frankie was up. “Alright. Never have I ever… pissed myself during a match.”
“Oh, gross!” Kris laughed—and James put down a finger.
“What!” Alex proclaimed, wide-eyed. “Okay, now you need to explain.”
 He pursed his lips. “Back when I was Fire Ant, Gran Akuma kicked me right in the bladder during a match. I drank too much water that night and a little came out.”
“Oh shit!” Chuck proclaimed. “I remember that!”
Alex and Kris looked at each other—and burst out laughing. “Okay, okay,” Alex eventually said. “You both only have one finger left. Whoever puts a finger down next is the loser.”
“Pressure’s on,” Jack said as he rubbed his hands together. He smirked. “Never have I ever drunkenly confessed my love for someone.”
“OH COME ON!” Chuck shouted as he put down his last finger. “You said that on purpose!”
Jack shook his head. “Dude, no I didn’t,” he said with a laugh. “I swear to God.”
“Who did you confess your love to?” Kris curiously asked.
Chuck looked sheepishly down at the floor. “Alex,” he muttered.
Kris’s jaw dropped as she turned wide eyes on Alex. “When did this happen?”
“After Double or Nothing last year,” she said.
“I was three sheets to the wind and we were in Vegas, alright?” Chuck explained before anyone else could put in their two cents. “Besides, I didn’t mean love like in love. I meant it like, ‘I love you, you’re my best friend.’”
Trent patted his back. “You keep telling yourself that, bud.”
“I did mean in that way!” he insisted.
“Okay, well however you meant it,” Alex interjected, “you lost the round, which means that Freshly Squeezed here has won the right to my accompaniment tomorrow night.”
Chuck pouted. “Man…”
“BUT.” Alex held up a finger. “We all know I don’t have the final say on that. It’s up to the EVPs and Tony.”
Chuck looked back up at her. “What? Then why the hell did you make us do all that?”
She shrugged. “Because it was fun.”
“It really was,” Kris agreed, and everyone else echoed the sentiment. Everyone, that is, except Chuck and James.
“If I explain to Kenny what happened tonight,” James started, “he’ll probably honor my victory.”
Alex’s eyes widened. “NO!” she proclaimed. “You’re hereby disqualified; I’m going out with Chuck and Trent tomorrow.”
“Yes!” Chuck raised his arms in victory. “You suck, Orange!”
The room erupted as everyone started arguing and talking over each other again. But Alex sat back, a contented smile on her face. The Best Friends really were her best friends and, in that moment, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
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bouwrites · 4 years
Text
Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 2
All I wanted was to find there’s something here inside of me they couldn’t keep.
First, Next. Ao3.
Story under read-more.
It might be a strange thought, considering the circumstances, but Jon thinks he’s grown up to be boring. Obviously, his life is anything but boring – there’s little boring about superheroes and villains and cataclysms and tragedies and… well, there’s a lot that’s decidedly not boring. But Jon himself? Kind of boring.
After all, what is he? He’s just the next generation of his dad. He has practically the same personality, the same values, the same hair and eyes, the same fashion (some of the exact same clothes), the same muscle, the same powers. Following in his dad’s footsteps, he even has the same night job, and the same day job to boot, or he will soon enough.
And none of that is bad. Jon loves his dad. To be like Superman is just about the greatest thing he can think of! Boring, if it’s like this, is great.
That said, there’s something Jon is very different from his dad in. That’s that Jon has been fighting crime since he was ten. He knows good people get involved, that’s one of the core lessons his parents taught him, but… even children? The difference between Jon and Superman is that Superman didn’t become Superman until his early twenties. Jon is still just shy of that and he’s been Superboy for almost half his life. The difference is that no matter how their powers set them apart from humans, and no matter how hard it was for his dad to feel that isolation that comes with it (Jon is familiar with the feeling, despite having his dad and aunt around) his dad at least knows how to be normal.
Jon grew up as a hero. He doesn’t know any different. And maybe the grass is always greener, but he wonders, sometimes, what an ordinary life would be like. Jon knows it’s not his parent’s fault. After all, even if they had tried to keep Jon from the superhero life, he would have gone out and been a hero without their permission. He has, quite a few times, anyway, though that’s mostly Damian’s fault. Making him Superboy, even so young as he was, was the only way his parents could let him explore himself and his powers and still watch over him to keep him safe. And he really, really appreciates that. He just wonders if… not being Superboy has ever really been on the table.
It doesn’t occur to him until now, that maybe being Kryptonian, having these powers, being super doesn’t mean he has to be a hero. Maybe he can still be good, still get involved, without rushing to everybody’s rescue, or fighting the next great evil. Maybe he’ll even like that. After all, isn’t that what journalism is about? Getting involved and making a difference without fist-fighting demons? Can’t that be heroism?
What would life be like, to live like any other person on Earth? To be a hero only so far as ordinary folks ever are heroes. To not necessarily not be superpowered, but to live a life irrespective of his powers. A life that’s no different for his powers, except in the way everyone’s differences make their lives unique. A life where Jon can forge his own path and worry only about himself and those in front of him, not everyone his powers might be able to save.
Deep down, Jon longs to find out. He’s just not sure it’s a realistic dream.
Is this teenage rebellion, or did I get all that out of my system being dragged along with Damian’s tween wrath? Jon makes a face at the college website, squinting through the dark. It’s bad for his eyes, staring at the laptop without his lights on, but Jon wears glasses anyway and he’s honestly not convinced his eyes can get messed up the same way humans can, on account of the whole telescopic and x-ray vision powers.
Huh. Maybe biology? Jon clicks idly through the list of colleges, to the sciences. Uh, actually, gross. As interesting as it is, I would hate that. He quickly backs up to the page he was on before, sighing as he tabs back and forth between it and another college website.
It’s so tempting to go to school for journalism. He already has background in it, and his parents can help him if he needs it. It might be nice to be known for the name Kent too, rather than for the “S”. And with journalism, he might be able to get into some interesting places. Chicago, or Austin, maybe. Or he can even stick to Metropolis. He’ll definitely be known as the Kent if he does that.
Then again, maybe he can do something different. Maybe he can make his own way. Define himself separately from his family. He loves them, but… being Clark 2.0, while an honor, is a bit dehumanizing. The last thing an alien needs is dehumanizing. It is frustrating being an “S” instead of a person and being a Kent might just be another variation of that. If he chooses something different it doesn’t necessarily stop him from working in journalism, and it gives him a unique perspective. Plus, he won’t always be surrounded by people who know his parents. There’ll be no reason to expect him to be any different than the rest of the students, and that is a tempting idea in itself.
Then again, Jon does like journalism, and picking a major just because it’s not what his parents do is kind of silly. Or is it smart? I can learn all I want to know about journalism from Mom and Dad, so if I’m going to college, I should pick something I can’t learn here at home, right?
Will they be proud of me if I study journalism? If I don’t? Jon groans. I don’t know. There’s so much to consider.
He’s already got two feet in the door in the journalism world. While he knows he can do to grow as a writer, he doesn’t need the connections and opportunities that college grants for the field. He’s already got those. And even if he does plan to pursue that field as a career, Jon wonders if gaining experience elsewhere will give him better insight and make him a better reporter anyway. Something like… psychology. Or politics. Something that’ll help him understand people in a way that he can use when he writes about them.
Or he can go undecided for now. But then the question of college comes down to location. Where should he apply? Metropolis? Does he want to go to Metropolis? Maybe Gotham? Or even San Francisco or Jump City or something totally unexpected like Paris? If he goes to Illinois or Texas, how will that change how he works as Superboy? Can he… stop being Superboy for a while? Just not deal with that stress on top of college?
Just the idea makes Jon feel guilty. People rely on Superboy. His dad isn’t getting any younger, either, and though Superman is still going strong for now, it’s becoming increasingly clear to Jon that everyone, the Justice League, the people of America and the world, and even Superman himself, is expecting Jon to replace his dad when the inevitable does happen. It’s irresponsible to abandon his duties for college. Superboy is more important than that. Superman is more important than that.
And a small, bitter part of him questions why Superboy doesn’t deserve the same chances that everyone else has. Why he has to sacrifice that time and focus to save them. He knows it’s because that’s what the “S” means. It’s about character. That doesn’t stop him from resenting it.
On the bright side, every next time some genius gets their hands on kryptonite is another chance for him to die young and stop worrying about his character flaws. So, that’s comforting.
But since he is Superboy, and still alive, he shouldn’t wander too far. His powers give him a lot of mobility, so he has more opportunity than a lot of heroes his age. He tries to appreciate that. At least he’s not tied to any particular city, since he can just fly in if he’s needed. He just shouldn’t go across the whole country. Or world. At least it makes deciding easier.
“Have you decided what you’re doing, yet?”
Jon looks up at his dad and smiles weakly. His eyes ache from looking at his laptop screen for so long, and he’s tired and hungry, too. “Not yet.” Jon says. “Might go undecided for a bit.”
His dad sits down with him to look at the screen, nodding. “That’s not a bad thing. But you still need to figure out what college you want to go to.”
Jon sighs. “Yeah, I know.”
His dad hesitates for a moment, and then nudges him. “Why don’t you tell me where you were thinking of? What makes the decision so hard?”
Frowning, Jon clicks through some of the open tabs in his browser. “I just… I don’t know. Honestly, I’m not sure about any of this.”
“What do you mean?”
His voice is so soft and gentle, and it reminds Jon again how lucky he is to have a dad like him. Someone who really cares. “I don’t know if I can handle college and being Superboy.” Jon mumbles. “It was hard enough in high school, and I… I’m not sure I even…” He sighs. “Nevermind. I’ll figure it out.”
“Hey.” Jon feels his dad grab his shoulder, so he turns to face him. “You don’t have to be full-time. It’ll be just like high school. When you’re busy with school, you’re off-duty. Don’t worry about being a hero. It’s okay to just focus on your education.”
Jon ducks his head. “Yeah, I know that.” He says. Even when the League, or more specifically some of the other heroes, try to get him more often, Jon’s dad always makes sure that he has plenty of time to focus on school, and that he’s not interrupted in school unless there’s some complete Armageddon going on.
That happens a few times. It sucks.
Even still… everyone expects him to pick up more responsibilities now that he’s going to college. He’s not sure he wants that.
“Jon.” His dad says. “What’s up?”
“It’s nothing.” Jon mumbles. He clicks through a few more tabs, disquieted more and more by each option.
“Come on, I want to help. What’s wrong?”
Jon sighs. There’s no getting around it. His dad is just too… helpful. That’s what makes him Superman. “Have you ever wondered if you could just be normal? No jumping up to save the day or punching bad guys or anything. Just… being like everyone else?”
Jon agitatedly clicks through a few more tabs and links before he realizes his dad is awfully quiet. When he turns to look at him, and sees the pensive expression on his face, his dad finally says, “All the time.”
Oh. Jon ducks his head. The laptop screen has long since stopped being interesting, but he can’t even pretend to be reading the articles there anymore. The floor is all he can focus on.
“Being a hero isn’t easy.” His dad says quietly. “But, for me, it’s the only way I can be my whole self. Kal-El. And I do a lot of good as Superman.”
Jon huffs a little. “You do a lot of good as Clark Kent, too. And just my dad.”
His dad smiles. “Yeah. I told you before, the ‘S’ isn’t about our powers. It’s about character. That’s where the good comes from. But since we do have powers, it’s our responsibility to use them for the greater good. That’s where Superman, and Superboy, come from.”
“And what if I don’t want to?”
His dad blinks almost dumbly. “Don’t want to? Don’t want to what?”
“Be Superboy.” Jon answers. “I really appreciate that I am. It’s helped me a lot, especially with my powers, but… I never got the chance to not be that. I want to… I want to just… do college like normal people.”
His dad is quiet for another long moment. “And you think you’ll be okay not using your powers?”
“I already hide my powers. Being Superboy doesn’t change that, Dad. We’re still lying and keeping secrets. I just… I’m starting to really hate it.”
“Jon, you know we have to hide to keep you safe.”
Safe. Jon knows that. He knows how safe he’s been. How safe he is fighting giant octopus monsters or Kryponian hunters or whatever the hell is causing the next end of the world. It makes something hot and ugly stir in his chest, and his voice rises and works of its own accord. “I’m not talking about the hiding! Why are we expected to save them when we can’t even live our lives without being afraid of them? Why should having these powers mean I have to handle all my own problems and theirs on top of it?” Jon flinches at his own words, but he can’t calm himself down enough to be more eloquent. “It just… It makes me so mad that I have to be a superhero and devote my life to everyone else when I don’t know what I even want to do with my life! I just- I never thought I’d have to think about it because I just- because everyone just assumed I’m you!”
Jon growls loudly, mostly at himself for getting riled up, but he’s heated now, and he can’t stop himself from talking. “I don’t want to be a hero anymore! I just want- I don’t even know what I want to do! I want to figure it out! I want to be able to figure it out! Without this dumb ‘S’ looming over my head! I’m… I’m confused, and this is just… it’s too much pressure.”
His voice cracks at the end, which finally breaks his tirade and sends him curling up into himself. “I hate this.” He mutters into his knees.
“Jon…” His dad says gently, wrapping him up in a hug. “We have to help people because we can. I know it’s hard. In some ways, it’s unfair. But that’s just what good people do.”
“Maybe I’m not a good person, then.” Jon mutters darkly.
His dad recoils a bit and doesn’t recover before his mom swoops in to sit on his other side and give him a hug of her own. “Hey, sweetie. How long have you felt that way about being a hero?”
Jon just shrugs, not lifting his face from his mom’s shoulder. “Few years now, I guess. I’m tired.”
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
Chuckling humorlessly, Jon buries himself deeper into his mom. “What’s the point? I have to be a hero. That’s what being good means. Doesn’t matter how sick of it I am. Don’t even know how to not be Superboy, anyway.”
There’s a distinct stiffening to the muscles under him that tells him his mom is mad. Jon curls up a little more in preparation for what’s coming. The deserved retaliation for his weakness. For his selfishness.
“Clark.” Jon’s mom says calmly. “Tell the League to list Superboy as off-duty. Indefinitely.”
Jon shoots up, staring aghast and in awe at his mom. “What?” He and his dad say simultaneously.
His mom just narrows her eyes at his dad. “Indefinitely.” She repeats. There’s no room for argument when she uses that tone. Just the way she speaks says, “If you don’t, I will. And I won’t be as nice about it as you will.”
“The League won’t be happy ab-”
“Clark…” Her tone is dangerous, warning. Jon is too shocked and confused to interrupt. “Remind me when you started being Superman?”
His dad ducks his head, rubbing his neck. “Well, I’d just got my job at the paper, so I’d have been… twenty-one? Twenty-two?”
“Just finished college.” Jon’s mom says. “Starting your career. Jon deserves the chance to figure out what he wants to do without being a hero, just like you did. There’s enough heroes that the world won’t end if Jon takes a few years to figure out what he wants to do.”
“I… You’re right.” Jon’s dad says. “The League won’t be happy about a Kryptonian running around outside of their control, but they should trust Jon by now.” Jon grimaces as his dad ruffles his hair. “You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll handle the League, and you can focus on college. When… or if you decide you want to be Superboy again, you can come back when you’re ready. Okay, son?”
Jon can’t help the tears that streak down his face as he tackles his dad, dragging his mom along too into one big pile of a group hug. “Thank you.” Jon mutters.
Jon is still undecided on his major. He can’t bring himself to devote himself so much to one area of study when he’s still feeling like he’ll need to abandon it to go save the world at any moment. It just feels pointless to throw himself into something like this.
That said, he does decide on a college. Eventually. Part of him wants to find some no-name town and hide out there. Someplace where nothing ever really happens, where he won’t hear a scream for help and have to do something about it. But… he picks the alternative instead. New York. NYU, specifically. There are so many heroes in New York that even he’d be hard-pressed to make it to a crime scene before some other hero is already there handling it. And in New York, the League can keep an eye on him easier. Make sure he’s not doing anything dangerous with his world-ending superpowers.
Jon rolls his eyes. The League and their paranoia. It’s rubbing off on him. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. It’s eating him alive that he’s sitting back while there are still people who need help. But he just wants to find some illusion of normalcy. Of safety and… direction. Something that’s not dictated by his heritage or his name. He’s not going to cause any trouble. That’d be antithetical to the whole point of this.
Still. Manhattan. It’s not crazy far, not like he’s flying across an ocean or anything, but even so it’s a new start for him. Jon can’t help but feel excited at the idea. He’ll be living on his own for the first time, sharing an apartment with a stranger.
He has fought and fought and fought just to survive to be able to do this. This, moving into his own life, exploring it and learning all he can, this is what he has fought to protect for so many other people. Now, it’s his chance to do it himself. It’s scary, but it’s also exhilarating.
When he packs up his things and piles into the car, it hits him all at once. A new chapter. A new Jon. He isn’t sure who that is just yet, but he’s braved the unknown too many times to be afraid of it. If he’s honest with himself, he’s much more afraid of going back.
New York isn’t all that different from Metropolis. Jon figures most big cities are pretty similar. They all have their own uniqueness about them, of course, but at their core things work largely the same. Jon is still just a kid from the country at his heart, but with his “home away from home” being Metropolis, New York feels almost familiar to him. Different enough to be exciting, and to remind him he’s doing something so remarkable, but familiar in a way that gives him confidence.
Things will be okay here. Jon can do this.
He repeats that to himself as his gut tightens. His parents will only be a short flight away. He can go out and see them anytime he wants, really, but living away from them, in a whole new city no less, is still nerve-wracking.
But of course, for now, bless them, they’re helping him move into his new apartment. His roommate is out when he arrives, but he can see the signs of life that tell him they’re already here. Probably have been for a day or two. One of the rooms has their stuff in it – he assumes they’re a girl based on the glance he catches when he’s exploring, but the moment he sees they’ve already claimed it he retreats from the room and tosses his stuff in the other one.
The furnishing is spartan, but Jon expects this, and he’s dealt with worse on missions. It doesn’t look like his roommate has done much to make the place feel more homely, except clean, he thinks, but there’s no way to tell until he meets them if they’re just a minimal person or if they’re waiting for him.
I’ll have to buy groceries next time. He thinks, checking the fridge and cabinets, realizing his roommate has already stocked up.
But he doesn’t spend much time in the living room yet. He wants to meet his roommate before he starts messing around too much in the common space. Instead, he focuses on putting his bedroom into order.
Besides their room, and the obvious signs of life, there are some other traces of them around the place. The bathroom has a bunch of products tucked neatly off to the side, and the cupboards under the sink have basic supplies. He spots a first-aid kit, too, which concerns him just a little because it’s a big one. Like, the kind of overstocked kit he’s only ever seen in heroes’ homes. But Jon just shakes the concern out of his head, rationalizing that there’s any number of reasons for a better first-aid kit. They probably just like to be prepared. After all, they’ve already got the apartment in order, with the exception of things he imagines his input would be relevant on. They seem like a fairly organized person from that alone.
When he runs out of things to do in the apartment, he heads out with his parents to sightsee a bit, and that’s how he spends the rest of his day. It’s not until late in the evening that he returns to his new home. Alone.
The first thing he notices when he opens the plain door is the scent of fresh cookies. The next is the soft thudding of feet, and then a petite girl slides around the corner with a used rolling pin in her hands and flour dusting her pink apron.
She grins widely. “You must be my roommate! I’m Marinette. It’s nice to meet you!”
“I’m Jon.” Jon says, grinning back. “How long have you been here?”
Marinette turns to lead him down the hallway to the living room. “Oh, I got in on Monday. I’ve been so excited to meet you! Oh! And when I saw your stuff here today, I made cookies! Do you have any allergies?”
“Nope.” Jon follows the flowing black hair bobbing in front of him until they find themselves in the living room and kitchen, snickering softly at how he has to look down at her. She’s so cute! And she made cookies! “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. I used to make macarons for my class on the first day of school. This is just my way of saying hi, and that I want to be friends.”
Jon swears his heart melts a little. She’s adorable. Hero or not, Jon resolves at that moment that he’ll do anything to keep this girl safe. She’s too pure for this world. “Aw, well I want to be friends, too.” Jon says. “And now I feel like I got really lucky, with you as my roommate.”
The girl flushes and giggles but shakes her head as she pushes him towards some cookies set out on a cooling rack. “Help yourself. They’re still warm.” She says
“Don’t mind if I do.” Jon has to admit, the cookies look delectable. And when he bites into one, he could be on Krypton for how the taste transports him. “Oh my god, these are so good.”
Marinette just giggles. She smirks proudly, a little smugly. “Mhmm. My parents are bakers, actually, so I’ve been baking almost my whole life. What do your parents do?”
“They’re journalists. Reporters in Metropolis. Mom also writes books.”
“Wow, my best friend wants to be a reporter! In Metropolis, though? Is that where you’re from?”
“Sort of. I live on a farm in Hamilton County. A ways north of there. I visit a lot, though, so it’s a home away from home of sorts. What about you? You’ve got an accent, uh… French?”
“Mhmm. I’m from Paris. I came here to study fashion at FIT.”
“That’s so cool! You’re a fashion designer?”
“Yeah! That’s my dream. I’m so lucky to have this chance to study here.” Marinette helps herself to a cookie herself as she makes herself comfortable on a chair. Jon follows her to sit down as well. “What about you? You’re about my age, aren’t you? You here for college?”
“I’m nineteen.” Jon says “And yeah. NYU. I’m, uh, still undecided though. Not really sure what I want to study yet.” He’s embarrassed to admit it, though he knows he’s going to be telling a lot more people about his indecision. After all, everyone in college is going to be asking each other their majors.
Marinette, when she talks about fashion, even just her opportunity to go to school here for it, she has this glow about her. She knows exactly what she wants and she’s going for it. Jon can’t help but admire that. It makes him feel a little behind the curve, though. There’s a lot of undeclared majors in college, but he imagines most people their age already have some idea at least.
“I just turned twenty!” Marinette says. “But you’ve got time to figure it out, right? There’s a lot of core classes we’ll have to do anyway.”
“Yeah.” Jon admits. “That’s true. No rush just yet.”
“You’ll find what you want to do, Jon.” Marinette says confidently. “No need to worry yet.”
Jon just laughs quietly. Am I that transparent? He doesn’t think he’s so obvious that Marinette can see how bummed he is about not knowing what he wants to do with his life, but she makes that little effort to comfort him anyway. “You’re right. Thanks.”
Marinette grins, and then smacks herself. “Oh, I told myself I’d warn you ahead of time! Making clothes often takes up a lot of space. Mostly just when I have to cut fabric, but I might have to use a lot of the floor space here every once in a while.” She gestures to the living room. “And I might have to move the furniture to make space sometimes. I’ll try to keep as much of it as I can at the university, but…”
“That’s fine.” Jon says. “I don’t mind at all. If you do need to move the furniture, let me know and I’ll help out.” Jon eyes her and the furniture and while the furniture isn’t hefty by any means, Marinette is a small girl. He may not be using his powers much being off-duty and with a roommate who can’t know about them, but he’s still a big guy and moving around some furniture won’t be more than a small annoyance at best. He hopes she doesn’t push herself too hard trying not to inconvenience him if it does come down to that.
“Thank you.” Marinette beams brilliantly. “I understand it might get annoying, but as I said, I’ll try to keep most of that stuff at school. Hopefully, we won’t have to do that too often. And I hope you don’t mind; I took the bedroom with a little bit bigger closet.”
He laughs. “Not at all. Sounds like you’ll need it.”
Marinette agrees, laughing along with him. “So, when do you start, anyway?”
“Next week. You?”
“Same. I’m really excited! To be honest, I still kind of can’t believe I’m here. In America!” She laughs. “I never thought I’d find myself here, but here I am.”
“I’ve been to Paris,” Jon says, “but I never got the chance to really look around. Is it very different from here?”
Marinette shrugs non-committally. “Well, you don’t have the architecture here. Paris is much more elegant, but I do like New York. It’s just as inspiring, just in a different way. Life in a big city isn’t all that different though. I just have to use English, now. It must be worse for you, you said you came from a farm?”
“Yeah, but I spent a lot of time in Metropolis. It’s not too different, either. Biggest thing for me is the noise. When I had to spend the night in Metropolis? Like, do those people ever sleep? It’s so quiet on the farm. Nothing like the city.”
“It must be so beautiful out there, though.”
“City’s pretty, too. It’s different, but they’re both nice.” When Marinette only hums in agreement instead of commenting further, he asks, “So what classes do you have at FIT? Do you have the same core stuff as I do, or is it different since your college is specialized?”
Marinette furrows her brow. “I’m not sure, actually. I still have to get credits in all the normal stuff. Science, math, foreign language – I really need to talk to an advisor about French there, actually – but I’m not sure if they offer the same classes as NYU. I’m taking a communications class but that’s for non-native English speakers, and geometry for my maths. And Science of Jewelry counts for my natural science credit, but I did see that they offered more typical science classes.”
Jon hums. She really is focused on design. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. “I’m taking more general classes. Kind of hoping something will catch my interest and help me figure out what I want to do. I guess it makes sense that a specialized college would teach even the regular classes through that kind of lens.”
“Yeah.” Marinette yawns widely. “I’m glad, though. Not sure I’d enjoy sitting through core classes if they weren’t tailored to art or design.”
“Ha, yeah. You getting tired?”
“A little. I’m still on Paris time, I guess. Do you mind if I go get ready for bed?”
Jon hold up his hands. “Don’t need my permission. This is your apartment too. Go ahead. I’m just going to…” He reaches over to the plate of cookies Marinette leaves on the coffee table. “Take another one of these and get ready for bed myself.”
Marinette giggles. “Alright. Good night, Jon.”
“Nighty night, Marinette.”
-------=-------
Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe <3
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emmettspeakz · 4 years
Text
Gotta Love DnD, Victor
Love Victor fanfic
Summary: It’s a week after Victor has come out to his family and a few friends, but they haven’t really acknowledged it one way or another. Desperate to help get his friend’s mind off of his family’s reaction (or lack of a reaction) to his coming out, Felix designs a DnD campaign that Victor, Bram, and Simon can play, with Felix as the DM. Fun and crazy stuff ensues. 
Hope y’all enjoy <3
“So how do we do this? All I got are dice.” Bram asks through Felix’s computer screen, holding lime-green crystal dice up to the camera. He and Simon are sitting on the couch in the middle of their apartment, with no space between them. Victor couldn’t help but feel like they were the perfect couple, and hoped that one day Benji and him could be the same way.
It was the weekend after Victor had come out to his family and they had started acting like he hadn’t said anything at all. Victor felt like right now that was for the best, as he didn’t really wanna talk about it anymore either. Things were weird with Mia and Lake, because although she had declared her love for Felix, Lake wasn’t talking to Victor at all, in solidarity and die-hard friendship fashion for Mia. Benji had sent him sweet text messages this week like “hang in there” or “hair looks great today bud” and that would help a bit, but also Victor couldn’t shake the feelings of regret and pain away. That’s how this weekend had happened. Felix had insisted they play DnD to get his mind off things. But because Victor and Felix couldn’t afford to go back to New York, they were somehow trying to do DnD through Skype. It wasn’t working all that well, but god damn it if Felix wasn’t gonna let Victor mope around his house anymore.
“It’s not that difficult now that you guys told me what classes you wanted to be. I think you all should give your characters names though. It’s not creative if you’re just Victor and Bram and Simon.”
Simon gave Felix a look through the webcam, raising his eyebrows.
“No offense.” Felix replied, awkwardly. Felix had moved all the newspapers his mother had collected into the supply closet to make room on the coffee table for DnD, but the closet had reached capacity and Victor worried it would comically burst open like their lives were a part of a cartoon.
“Nice to meet you two by the way. You guys...are—”
While Felix was talking, the couple maintained eye contact with him as Simon rested his head on Bram’s shoulder.
“Right, okay.”
“Felix! You know they’re boyfriends!” Victor called out, sounding more like his teasing self than he has all week.
“I still can’t believe that you never told me you went to New York! The Big Apple? Times Square? You know how much I love Broadway!”
“Well you guys will just have to come visit us again sometime.” Bram suggested, putting his arm around his boyfriend affectionately.
“Alright so let’s start.” Victor said, not wanting to be reminded of the trip that made him lie to his then-girlfriend.
“Okay, so Bram you’re a paladin—” Felix began before he was cut off.
“Paladin? I’m definitely not just brawns!” Bram protested.
“You picked your character!” Victor laughed.
“I know but I think I’m a bit more of a—”
“No, no, no, no. I sent you a character sheet, you filled it out and sent it back to me and then I added the modifiers and all the technical stuff and sent it back to you, so it’s finalized!” Felix said, all his words jumbled together in a long string, sounding hyperactive as usual. “Now,” Felix continued, grabbing a D20 die from on top of his brown coffee table. “Let’s do this.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. I don’t know much about DnD, but I do know that the DM can’t play too.” Victor said, grabbing Felix’s hand tightly.
“Oh c’mon, let me play Victor! I need this! I haven’t seen Lake in—”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t remind me. Just roll dice when you’re supposed to, DM Felix.”
“Fine, fine, fine, fine,” Felix said, moving a hand through his hair. “Let’s start with this.”
He had four plastic figures, three of them representing Bram, Simon, Victor, and then one representing a figure that Felix started to describe as the Demigorgon before Victor told him to pick something else ‘cause that was “too Stranger Things”.
“Wait, wait, wait. Which character am I again?” Simon interjected before playing had even begun.
“You’re the warlock, the one with a staff, represented by the purple figure on the table.” Felix explained briskly so they could move onto actual gameplay. Simon nodded in understanding and sat back on the couch, letting Felix do his thing.
“Anyway, this big—” Felix met Victor’s gaze “—monster straight out of the movie Alien—”
Victor couldn’t help but laugh, not about Felix’s uncreativeness or lack of forethought about monsters, but the fact that he was the only straight boy in this group and he happened to somehow be the nerdiest one of all four of them.
“You mean gay out of the movie alien?” Simon asked, thinking the same thing Victor was. Victor, Bram, and Simon burst into laughter and all Felix could do was bite his lip awkwardly at the joke.
“Okay so Boris the Brave, Seamus the Strong, and Vladimir the Valiant—”
“Wait, those are our names?” Bram asked, chuckling.
“You guys didn’t pick your names so I made something up on the spot. Now stop interrupting!”
Simon and Bram put their hands up defensively, almost at the same time and Victor chuckled at that. Watching them over the call, Victor was just in awe by them. He guessed that when you were in a relationship for 2+ years, you started acting like the other person. It was weirdly sweet and Victor couldn’t get enough of it. This was what it was supposed to be like to love someone like he did. Maybe one day him and Benji would be that close, would be so love that they were in total sync. It sucked that he was jealous of them, but he was.
“So you guys are traveling through this cave and this big monster thing that looks like it’s from Alien jumps out and lunges at you. Bram, your action.”
“Uh, can I throw Simon at it?”
“Hey!”
“You can if you’d like.” Felix responds. But Bram is shaking his head.
“Can I sing to it?” Victor jokes, smiling brighter than he has in days, his cheeks burning. And when Felix glares at him he simply responds, “What? Isn’t that all that Bards can do in battle?”
“Y’know what, roll for that.”
“For what?”
“Performance! C’mon, you know this! I went over it with you every single day this week during lunch!”
Victor chuckles as Felix puts his blue die into his hand. Victor gives it a good shake before he throws it onto the table.
“10.”
Fellix then takes his own die and rolls his own number.
“I got 15, so that did not hit. The Alien is still awake, and none of its stats have been altered.”
“Nice try Victor!” Simon said encouragingly, before turning to his boyfriend. “Maybe this is a job for a paladin?”
“Okay, I’ll try. Um, I’m going to attack the Alien with my sword.”
“Okay, roll for strength, then add your modifier from your character sheet.” Felix said.
Bram ironically cracked his knuckles before taking his die and rolling, which both Victor and Simon found amusing.
“Uh, 14. Plus my strength modifier which is +2.”
“Okay, you definitely hit it. Now roll for damage given.”
Bram looked blankly at Felix.
“Just, roll the die again to see how much damage you deal on the Alien.”
“Oh, gotcha.”
Bram rolls again.
“Uh, 9. Is that with the modifier still or no?”
“Not this time, but you’ve dealt 9d sword damage to the Alien, which means you’ve been spotted and Simon’s character can’t use his stealth to get away anymore.”
“What? We could’ve snuck around it?” Bram grumbled, throwing his hands up in the air.
“It’s an open-world kind of game, man. You gotta think outside of the box.” Felix replied pointedly. Bram sighed and handed the die to Simon, who chose to roll for dexterity, to run away from the alien.
“Isn’t Bram the athlete?” Victor teases him.
“Yeah! But you’re just gonna run away from the alien and leave us to die from it?”
“No! If this works, I’m gonna go find the next village and see if there’s anyone who can help us.”
“Alright, roll for that.” Felix says.
Simon shakes the die like Bram did, but with a bit more vigor and then throws it down on his coffee table.
“Uh…it’s a nat 20!” Simon cheers, but he looks nervous.
“I’m trusting you here!” Felix reminds him. “I can’t actually see your die, but you better be honest with me!”
“It’s a one.” Bram informs his DM, looking scared at what outcome this will yield as he grabs Simon’s arm and squeezes it tightly toward his body.
“Bram!”
“Simon, they’re our friends! We can’t lie to them!”
“Fine,” Simon grumbles. “I just hope we’re not screwed now.”
“So Simon, since you got rolled a 1, you’re getting the energy to run away and then slip and fall and yell, ‘fuck!’ just as loudly as you can, so now the Alien has turned on you.”
“Oh shit!” Simon yells, almost proving Felix’s point.
It takes a little while before anyone knows what to do to stop the monster, and since it’s the afternoon and the boys haven’t eaten anything, they take a break for some pizza delivery before going back to the game.
“I’m gonna try to hit it again.” Bram says when they sit back down to it. It’s been hours since they started the game and all they’ve done is fight this one monster, but Victor doesn’t care. He hasn’t thought a bit about what going back to his house is gonna be like and frankly he doesn’t care. He’s enjoying this nerdy time with his friends and wish it could never stop.
“Roll for strength.”
Bram does.
“Ugh, 3!”
“Is that with or without the modifier?” Felix asks. Luckily it’s without.
“So 5? That does not hit. Now you’ve made the Alien all angry though.”
“Ugh, what now?”
“Victor, your turn again.” Felix tells him, handing him his blue die. “What’s your action?”
“I’m gonna see if maybe I can appeal to a nearby animal for help.” Victor says, sounding just like a bard. Felix can’t help but laugh, but it’s a sound strategy, as nothing else has worked out for them yet.
“Roll for performance.” Felix says.
Victor shakes the die and then drops it onto the table. It moves around and around like a spinning top. It’s moving so fast, but at one point it looks like it’s gonna be a nat 20 before it tips the opposite direction. Victor sighs in disappointment before he realizes it has landed on 18.
“What, no way!” Victor cries out, holding his hands up high towards the ceiling. “That’s a nat 20 right?”
“Well, it is a 20, but not a natural 20. You definitely got some animal’s attention. A wolf-bat hybrid creature comes out of its den in the cave and you ask it to help you and your friends get out of the cave. And it’s happy you asked it for help, so it starts leading you out of the cave and away from the alien. Just then—”
“What? Just then, nothing. I rolled a 20, you can’t have something happen to us now!” Victor cries out.
“It’s my game, I can do whatever I want.” Felix replies his voice light and teasing.
“There’s a sudden earthquake and huge rocks start falling down upon all of you. All of you roll for dexterity to get out of the way of the falling rocks and catch up with the wolf-bat hybrid to get to safety.”
Simon rolls, then Bram and Victor roll simultaneously. Simon rolls a 7, Bram a 13, and Victor gets an 11.
“Since Bram made it above 12, he has to help Simon out of the cave after he gets hit on the back of the head once with a rock. Victor leads the group to safety with the help of the wolf-bat hybrid and it’s on to the next village. End of game 1.”
“Wow! What an awesome game Felix!” Bram remarks.
“This was really fun you guys,” Simon agrees, speaking into the webcam as if he was meeting Felix and Victor’s gazes directly. “Hopefully we can do it again next time when we’re in Atlanta.”
“Wait, you mean, you guys are coming to visit US?” Victor asks, incredulous. He can’t believe his ears.
“Yeah, you came to visit us, it’s only fair we do the same thing. Besides, Bram wants to get some pointers from the coach about how to coach middle school kids.”
“Might wanna choose a different gym teacher to learn from,” Felix tells him, smiling.
“Whatever, we wanna see you guys, and introduce you to our friends Leah and Abby too. We’re all coming back for a homecoming type thing, even our friend Nick is gonna be there. It’s not for at least a month, but we’ll be up there soon, I promise. And as always, we’re here if you need anything, Victor.”
“Thanks you guys. I can’t wait to see you guys in person again.” Victor says, and he’s definitely gushing. They used to be strangers to him, but now he can’t imagine life without their support. They’re like his fairy gay fathers or something. Victor laughs at that prospect, but it’s an accurate name for them.
“Nice meeting you Felix! Great game! Talk to you guys soon!” Bram says, and the call goes out.
“They’re really great.” Felix says, almost absentmindedly.
“Yeah,” Victor says, fully registering how he feels towards all the new friends he’s made in the last few weeks, and a warm, welcoming feeling filling up his stomach, almost like the butterflies that welled up in his chest when he kissed Benji. Only this was different. This was purely platonic. Victor’s family life might not be what he’d like it to be right now, but his social life was better than it ever was in Texas. What’s more, he was finally living his true life, his gay self, and he felt better than he had in days.
“Yeah, they’re pretty great.”
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thegeekerynj · 3 years
Text
Short Reviews, when the Big Mouth doesn’t have much to say… Or is trying to get caught up from COVID / Election Overload
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An Occasional Attempt to Read, Discuss and Review the Wonders of Comics
By: John Rafferty, cranky old man, and Fan of All Things Comics
Short Takes 
Short Reviews, when the Big Mouth doesn’t have much to say… Or is trying to get caught up from COVID / Election Overload
Legion of Super Heroes 6-10  (DC Comics)
Writer: Brian Michael Bendis    Pencils: Ryan Sook (#6 - 7, 10) Various (8 - 9)   Inker: Wade Von Grawbadger (#6 - 7, 10) Various (8 - 9)
‘You want to be called Bouncing Boy?
Looking at the Memexes, we were considering “The Bullet”.
Bullet?
It’s a projectile that——
No, with me, it’s all about the BOUNCE.
———————————————————————————————————
Can Brian Bendis write everything?
Between story, and downright FUN, this is a great book.  Team books are hard to do well, if for no other reason, because of the characterizations. 
Multiple characters mean multiple personalities, and some of those will always get underdeveloped in relationship to the team, as the writer invariably has favorites  Unless…
What we are seeing with LSH is development of characters from across the spectrum. Every book has development of some of the characters, even if they’re not directly involved in the story. This is a far cry from what you see in other books.
Add to this Ryan Sook’s breakdowns, and Wade von Grawbadger’s inks, and you get a pretty package, all tied up in a big bow. More importantly, this is a story with a legacy reaching back 60 years, and is being truly refreshed for a new audience.
This isn’t the Legion I read in 1967, but it’s damned good! 
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5
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Suicide Squad #9 - 10  (DC Comics)
Writer: Tom Taylor  Artist: Bruno Redondo
I have Kord’s location.
Okay. Do you also have the Senator?
Oh, did you want him back for some reason? That spineless mouth-breather championed a law to dump more waste into the sea. Delusional, greedy @#$% thinks he owns the world.
I have some friends reminding him he does not.
———————————————————————————————————
Floyd Lawton, first appearance, Batman #59, June 1950, as the man who never misses.
Floyd Lawton, a man who feels no rereason to continue living, but has no wish to die: who puts his life on the line to save his teammates time and time again, to save his daughter and her mother, all with the wish of dying in a truly spectacular fashion.
Floyd Lawton, who finally finds a reason to live, in the eyes of his daughter, Zoe.
Floyd Lawton. Deadshot. Perennial member of Task Force X, finally earned his pardon.
Game Over.
By all that’s Unholy, Tom Taylor is a hateful SOB! But the man writes a great story!
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶
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Marvel Zombies Resurrection # 1 - 4  (Marvel Comics)
Writer: Phillip Kennedy Johnson   Artist: Leonard Kirk
‘Fine. I guess we came all this way. 
Might as well do something really stupid.
———————————————————————————————————
This sums up exploring the World, any world, during a Zombie Apocalypse. Especially when those with Super Powers have been turned into Super Zombies.
So, we pick up with Peter Parker, Forge, Karla Sofen (Moonstone), Valeria and Franklin Richards, a Flerkin named Chewie, and the reprogrammed Sentinel lovingly called ‘Nana’, moving from defendable place to defensible area, seeking a ‘safe place’. Somewhere they can rest for more than one night… if that is possible.
Always realizing the next tree could be hiding a zombified Avenger, or Defender, or Loved one…
Johnson’s Miniseries is another version of the Marvel Zombiepocalypse, which begs the question, what happens when Zombie Galactus infects your world? Or, more importantly, when it CARRIES the infection to your world?
Leonard Kirk’s art style is perfect for this story, a very dark, visceral style which is a little hard on the eyes, making the reader work for every panel. Yes, it hurts to read, but IT SHOULD! It’s Zombies!
This is worth the read if you can get all 4 issues (the first issue came out in July).
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶
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Rorschach #1  (DC Black Label)
Writer: Tom King   Artist: Jorge Fornes
‘They won’t talk to me. Treating me like I’m a  damn Kindergarten kid. I got twins in Kindergarten. Duane and Dwight. I’m not a Kindergarten kid. 
Jesus Christ. What’d they say to you?
That you’re dying.
Shit.
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In 1985, Walter Kovacs died. 
It went unnoticed, but for the few in attendance, for Kovacs died following the Alien Invasion of New York, which, in effect saved the world.
Yet, unnoticed, but for the few, Walter Kovacs became a red splash on the Antarctic permafrost.
And Rorschach, the Crime Hunter, died with him.
Or. did he?
In a world existing somewhere between Watchmen 1985 and Current Multiverses, Tom King and begun a noir-ish tale… Did Rorschsch come back, to foil an assassination attempt, and die in the process?
Did he come back, and fail at an attempt at assassination?
Or, Gentle Readers, is there a whole slew of balls in the air we just haven’t seen yet, that we are going to be expected to juggle deftly, as they drop just into sight?
I can’t wait for the answer!
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5
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Justice League #54 - 57  (Death Metal Tie-In) (DC Comics)
Writer: Joshua Williamson    Artists: Xermanico (54, 57), Pencils: Robson Rocha (55 - 56), Inks: Daniel Henriquez (55 - 56)
“Don’t you get it Cyborg? We’re not the Justice League!
We’re the Suicide Squad!
———————————————————————————————————
I have said before I am not a fan of Joshua Williamson’s writing.
Maybe I just don’t like him on the Flash. 
Four issues, each of them a very good story, each building, with some action and humor, to a smash mouth endpoint, that brings us to Death Metal #5.
I have to say, I’m enjoying this run of Justice League, even with the switch of artist teams mid - tale Xermanico’s work os beautiful, right into the valley of the Starros (that gave me giggle fits!) Rocha and Henriquez’s work is very pretty, and a little darker than Xermanico’s, giving a more atmospheric touch to the Antenna of LOD.
I have to admit, they do a mean Kori, as well! Really FIERCE, with a Full Length mohawk!
Well worth the cost of admission, and a strong addition to the Metal storyline.
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5
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Nightwing #75 - 76 (DC Comics)
Writer: Dan Jurgens   Artists: Travis Moore and Ronan Cliquet (75), Ronan Cliquet (76)
‘We have to talk.’
———————————————————————————————————
Four words. 
Four words that have ended more relationships than violence.
Dan Jurgens has done a masterful job of tying up the Ric Grayson / Amnesias storyline that seems to have run for nigh on ever… by bringing it full circle to Anatoli Knyazev, the KGBeast.
The artwork in these two issues was pretty, with obvious switches between that of Travis Moore (the Titans / Batgirl pages) and Ronan Cliquet’s Batman / KGBeast pages.
Nicely tied up, completing multiple storylines in two issues. Ready to move forward/
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5
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Young Justice  #19 - 20 (DC Comics)
Writers: Brian Michael Bendis and David  Walker   Artist: Scott Godlewski
Red Tomato?
I think he said Tornado, and you know it.
Honestly, he talks so fast, I can’t understand him most of the time.
———————————————————————————————————
Damian Wayne, Robin.  Cassie Sandmark, Wonder Girl. Bart Allen, Impulse. Conner Kent, Superboy. Stephanie Brown, Spoiler. Keli Quintela, Teen Lantern. Zan and Jayna. the Wonder Twins. Jinny Hex, Naomi, Amethyst,
Twenty issues in, and the book is cancelled… or is planned to end. Either way, this is a suck way to do things, DC.
This is a great group of characters. Much better than the roster in the Young Justice cartoon, simply for the diversity. Some heroes just coming into their own, some who have existed for years,  (the Wonder Twins have been around in MULTIPLE iterations since the 1970’s), all helping each other… This was a great jumping in book for pre-teens who weren’t up for all the violence / hyperkinetic action / storytelling of a true adult book.
And, it was FUN!
Bendis, Walker and Godlewski produced a fantastic product every month.
One which is ending too soon. Unless, of course, it is going to come back in a new package… 
Hint, hint, hint…
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5
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Amazing Spider-Man 50 - 53  ‘Last Remains’  (Marvel Comics (duh!))
Writer: Nick Spencer   Artist: Patrick Gleason
‘You’re going to love it, Pete. There’s no better feeling in this life — Than being surrounded by those you love.
———————————————————————————————————
So, what are the rules around DEAD Characters returning?
Do they have to be relevant after so many years? Shouldn’t they be, well, driven to do something? Not take more than 50 issues to finally get around to saying…”Bazinga!’, or it’s equivalent?
I must admit, issue 50 is the first issue of a Spider-Man book I picked up, and started to enjoy, until I realized I needed to pick up the LR issues also in order to get the whole story. Didn’t’t we get enough of this in the Shooter Years? 
What about a year and a half ago, when Marvel vowed they would never pull this crap again?? 
I guess they forgot… (Insert comparison to jackass in office here).
Too much work, don’t really care.
Especially when the reveal of who Kindred is happens in issue 50, and Peter finds out in #53… Puh-Leez!
At least it’s not Professor Warren and his Gwen Stacy clone. **BRRRRR** Freakin’ Creepy Old Perv!
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶
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Batman 101 - 102 (DC Comics (bigger DUH!))
Writer: James Tynion IV   Artist: Guillen March (101)  Pencils: Carlo Pagulayan   Inks: Danny Miki   Artist: Carlos D’Anda (Pages 13 - 16)
‘DOUBLE RENT! And you don’t talk to the other tenants! They are good people.
Little Santa Prisca is a community. We live through BANE. We live through JOKER. Don’t blow it up with all your nonsense!
You got it Charlie, No Nonsense. Not Here.
Hey! What’s your policy on Hyenas?
———————————————————————————————————
So, Lucius Fox is one of the richest men in the world. 
Selina Kyle has put the Bat on a One Year Clock to get his stuff together, or she walks.
Clownkiller might be the Bernard Goetz of Superhero Vigilantism (look up the reference, I can’t do everything!), but he goes about proving you can’t keep a good vigilante killer down if he has Google.
Ghost Maker is more than we thought, and knows who Bruce Wayne keeps in the closet (or cave).
Is there anyone in Gotham who doesn’t know who Bruce Wayne is?
Tynion continues to pump out some great product, the stories and characters do not disappoint. Including Grifter as Fox’s ‘bodyguard’ was a nice touch, having him get the drop on Batman, a nicer one.
The art in both books, while vastly different, is simply gorgeous. I want to see more od the team of Pagulayan and Miki, I’m hoping to see their work grow with the storylines.
Next issue, BATTLE Sequences! Should be fun, not that it hasn’t been so far.
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶.5
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Shang Chi  #1 - 2 (Marvel Comics)
‘I have to save my Little Sister!
I have to kill my Big Brother!’
———————————————————————————————————
Only meetings should have agendas.
-Me, just now
Once upon a time, Sax Rohmer wrote stories about the machinations of one Fu Manchu, and his oft overturned attempts to take over the world.
In 1973, Steve Engelhart and Jim Starlin brought Shang Chi, son of Fu Manchu into the Marvel Universe, where he and his MI-6 partners Clive Reston and Black Jack Tarr were responsible for being the monkey wrenches in the machinery of Fu Manchu’s Plans.
It seems that Shang Chi is back, without his prior father. He is still proficient in all forms of martial arts, but now, he is ‘Champion of House of the Deadly Hand’ (like that name isn’t going to come to but him in the butt like a Karmic werewolf), and since the passing of his ‘Father”, now the Commander of the Five Weapons Society.
The artwork is pretty, and the story, steeped in Asian Mysticism, is a little draggy so far. Is the story good? Yeah, it’s a nice reminder of a character I exjyed a long tome ago.
Will it get better? Time will tell.
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶.5
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The Rise of Ultraman #1 - 3 (Marvel Comics, by way of Tsuburaya Productions)
Writers: Kyle Higgins and Matt Groom    Artist: Francesco Manna
Oh. You’re here to fight because you think we’re one of the species that can’t evolve.
No. I know you cannot evolve.
Fifty-Four of your years ago, my brother came to assist you. And you killed him.
———————————————————————————————————
In the late 60’s, on certain New York television stations, the Saturday Afternoon hours were filled with Japanese imports, Kaiju - United Science Patrol, and of course the story of the death of Moroboshi, and the coming of Ultraman.
Ultraman, a human - alien symbiosis, who fought the Kaiju menace coming to take over the Earth.
Forward to 2020, a new Ultraman, with a new team of USP helpers / friends, and what looks at this point to be a corrupt system surrounding them.
This creative team has done a marvelous job with the material thus far, reviving this character for a modern reader.
It’s just a shame it’s only 5 issues…
It is definitely worth the read.
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶
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American Vampire 1976 #1 - 2 (DC Comics)
Writer: Scott Snyder   Artist: Artist: Rafael Albuquerque
‘DAMMIT! Before what happened with Gus, you were the best vampire tracker and killer around. I’m asking you to help me take down whoever this PEELING MAN is.
But if this shitty music and LASERS is your life now, then just say so, and I’ll leave you to it.
It’s not a laser, you goddamned idiot.
It’s a SOLAR LAMP. **klik**
———————————————————————————————————
Ten years ago, Scott Snyder, Rafael Albuquerque and Stephen King started a journey which has spanned 10 Years in real time, but 200 years, and 12 separate cycles in series time.
The current iteration has our favorite group of vamps and exterminators running around 1976, wrecking discos, trains, and graveyards, all in the name of bringing back Stoker’s primary villain.
Snyder proves again he is up to the task of creating a world of whimsy and horror, providing mayhem, madness, and the occasional snorting giggle. His droll wit, and ability to write a phenomenal action piece makes this cycle of the American Vampire story a must read.
Out of 5🌶        🌶🌶🌶🌶
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littlemisskookie · 5 years
Text
Loveless: Chapter 6
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Loveless: Index Ship: Reader | OT7 Description: Spy/Men in Black!AU | You worked at an institution that dealt with aliens- aliens that were the fictional creatures we were told were from fairy tales. The job entailed love only for it, and nothing else. That’d all change when a mission goes wrong. Warnings: Sub/Dom Themes, Choking, Blowjob, Pussy Slapping, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Sir!Kink, Degrading Names, Dumbification???, Intercourse, Comedy Word Count: 4,054 A/N: beta read by @jungtoeseok
"Hobi," you whined, your thighs pressed against each other as a reaction to the sudden flesh of arousal.
Ah yes, feeding time, Hoseok thought. AKA the least sexy way to describe coitus.
It had been a little less than a week, and already Hoseok was worn out. He never before believed in the concept of "too much sex", but with you, you were insatiable. Your group called it feeding, and your lust hunger. It made sense. True to theory, you were slowly regaining strength, your face becoming fuller as well as your body. You were no longer skin and one, instead returning to your normal self. You regained muscle and fat, truly fleshed out instead of a mere outline of what you once were.
Still, you needed constant feedings in order to maintain it. Hoseok did his best to keep up, knowing it was in the best interest of your health. However, every waking moment seemed to be spent with his dick inside of you. The most constant sex he had gotten in his last sexual relationship was perhaps twice a week. Now he had to do it three times a day if he was lucky. It really was like meals.
Not that you'd have any problem getting him up and ready. One moment it feels like the last thing he'd want, and suddenly something would consume him. Your scent, your body, suddenly he was up and at attention. He couldn't help it. You were like an addiction. Perhaps it came with reading his sexual desires. You could always sense what he wanted and how, switching positions without a word and whatnot. You no longer had to tell him what he needed to do, unleashing his innermost desires. Along with your ability to turn him on came the parts of him that were unable to be held back.
It had been only a few days and you two already knew each other's bodies like the back of your hands. So with the whine in your voice and the sudden scent of your arousal, Hoseok knew what was coming.
Both of you, duh.
"Fuck," he groaned, groggy from just waking up. What time was it? 5 AM? "What is it my little slut needs this time?" he questioned, as though he didn't already know from the semi he was beginning to form.
"I want you to fuck me."
Hoseok's hand was quick to latch around your throat, choking you enough where your airflow was cut off immediately. "Who are you to order me around, whore? Last time I checked you weren't the ones who made demands in this relationship."
"S-Sorry. You make the demands," you choke out. "I just follow."
He squeezes harder, enough where your face was beginning to bloom red. He always thought you looked pretty in red. Never would've guessed in this way, before, to be honest. "Oh? I think you're forgetting to address me. Are you so hungry for cock that you've forgotten your manners? Or are you just stupid?"
"Sir! I'm so stupid, sir. So stupid and hungry for your cock. Please fuck your dumb little girl."
"That's my girl," Hoseok purred, rolling over slightly to give you a chaste kiss to the lips as he let go of your throat, letting you breathe once more. "Get me hard and we'll see what we can do about that dick hungry pussy of yours, alright?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," you say obediently, wide awake as you descend down his body to do his bidding. You're quick to get him out of his underwear, seeing as it was the only thing he had on after you knocked him out from last night's boning.
You take his semi-erection into your mouth, careful as you twirl your tongue around the tip, using your hand to pump up and down his shaft. You let your tongue run lower, a trail of saliva along the underside of his length until you were massaging his balls with your tongue, sucking gently on them as you maintained eye contact. Hoseok always had a thing for looking you in the eye for dirty deeds like this. He didn't care who was performing oral on the other; if your eyes were locked it was a turn on guarantee.
Hoseok let out a pleased hum, a sigh of content as he let his hand pet your hair, urging on your ministrations. You moaned around him as you took him a bit deeper, sending vibrations throughout him at the sensation. He cursed, both of you feeling him get fully erect as you continued. 
"You're so good to me. My good girl," Hoseok praised, cupping you by the chin to bring you up for air. You captured his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it and bobbing your head in a familiar fashion to how you sucked his cock earlier, only to emit a groan from him. "Yeah yeah, I know. You want this cock inside that greedy cunt of yours, don't you?"
You hummed, nodding eagerly.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Sit on it if you want it that badly. Ride me good, baby, I'm about to fall asleep. Don't want me to get bored now, do you?" 
"Yes, sir." You were eager, ecstatic as you straddled the man, admiring the sight below you. He was rather stunning, you had to admit. Never in your dirtiest daydreams of him back at the agency could you have imagined the scene before you. Tousled, messed up hair from where you pulled the night before, sticking out from all sides. You distinctly remember it was when he was feasting between your legs, keeping your thighs firmly planted against the mattress as he devoured you whole.
Both of you let out a groan of pleasure as you began to sink down onto him, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate him as he filled you completely. You'd never tire of that feeling, no matter how many times he wrecks you. 
Still, despite the fact you were physically on top, Hoseok would never allow it metaphorically. Despite the fact he didn't want to do the work, simply lay back and enjoy to let you have your fun, he couldn't resist. Your warm heat was just all too inviting, beckoning to burrow impossibly deeper into you. 
Digging his heels into the mattress, he bucked his hips into the air, making you stumble as you find purchase on his chest, trying to regain balance. He didn't allow you to get comfortable for long, beginning his relentless pace as he dug his hands into your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming his hips into you. 
"Fuck, fuck, fu-" Your cursing was cut off, one of Hoseok's hands coming up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You looked so dumb at that moment, a dumbfounded look on your face. You wore a blank expression, your mouth filled as you looked at him.
"Nasty girl. Good girls don't curse, do they, Q?" Hoseok asked, shaking your head for you, side to side in an aggressive manner as though to knock some sense into you.
Your eyes rolled back, feeling him reach that special spot inside of you, stimulating the small bundle of nerves that made your toes curl. His hand dragged from your mouth to clasp around your throat, leaving a trail of drool and saliva along the way.
You were getting close, but you needed that extra push. You let out a needy whine, hips bucking against Hoseok as you attempted to grind your throbbing clit against his pelvis.
"Little slut needs to cum, huh?" Hoseok questioned, chuckling darkly.
You wordlessly nodded, mouth agape. You couldn't even speak, lips parted as you just drowned in pleasure, the overcome with how good it felt. 
"You don't get to cum without my permission," Hoseok growled, giving a quick swat to your needy heat.
"Yes, sir!" You gasped out. "Please let me cum?"
"Not until I say so." You bit your lip at that, trying to concentrate at keeping the orgasm at bay. You were right at the edge, and if Hoseok were to grant you mercy, what with even a small rub against your clit, you'd be undone. Instead, you were needlessly dangled over the edge according to your Sir's whims.
Still, from the twitch of him inside you and the small throb, you could tell he was close. His grip around your throat tightened, pace becoming sloppy.
"Oh fuck, god. I'm close," he groaned, a low hiss emitting from between his teeth. His other hand dragged from your hip to rub small circles into your clit. He watched as you became undone, able to feel the vibrations of your moan against the palm of his hand against your throat. You quivered and shook, thighs shaking on either side of him as your cunt spasmed around him. Soon enough he was following after, your orgasm milking him for all he was worth until he was filling you up with more than you could handle. Both of you could feel both his and your liquids spilling over his cock, dribbling over his balls and onto the bed. 
"Fuck, Q, you made a mess of me," he chuckled, letting go of your throat to pet your hair, calming you down from your high. You collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily.
"Yeah, well I could say the same thing. Just yesterday Jimin commented on the marks from the choking. You're just intent on marking me up, aren't you?" You laughed at that mindlessly sucking on a junction along his collarbone, your heart rate slowing to a more stable rate.
"Says the one that's leaving a hickey on me as we speak," Hoseok teased. "Why don't you shower already? You stink."
"It's your fault!"
"Yeah right. Go ahead. I'm gonna make breakfast. You want some?"
"No way, you burned my eggs last time."
"I was trying to be nice!"
"Nice, but face it, you're a terrible cook. Leave that to Jin."
"Alright alright, I'm heading out before you roast my natural talent any further," Hoseok grumbled. Grabbing some sweats and a t-shirt, he made his way to the kitchen, the only other person there being Namjoon.
"Hey, man," Hoseok greeted, opening a few of the drawers. "Have you seen the frying pan?"
"I think it's in the dishwasher," Namjoon answered, focused on the crossword puzzle before him. "Everyone else is asleep. Not surprised to see you're up already, though."
"I wasn't much of an early bloomer before, to be honest," Hoseok chuckled.
"Had fun with Y/N?"
"Yeah, always do but... It's embarrassing to say, but I feel like my dick's going to fall off."
Namjoon laughed at that. "That often, huh? You two have been going at it like rabbits. We've barely been seeing you two."
"I never thought there was such thing as too much sex," Hoseok said in a disbelieving tone. "Like, typically this would be any man's dream, but it's exhausting, you know?"
"It makes sense why her libido's so high, though," Namjoon admits. "I mean, think about the last time she even had her strength. Way back at the incident, when we met Jashwi. Now imagine you haven't eaten any in all that time. Of course you'd try to eat as much as you can to make up for what you had lost. And there's no doubt it's working."
"Will it always be this way?"
"Well, there are two scenarios. The first is that once she's had her fill, it'll go to a more normal, reasonable schedule. The second is that it'll always be that way. You do have to consider it like meals for her in a sense. We typically have three meals a day, so it's the same for her."
"I'm serious when I say I think my dick's going to fall off," Hoseok groaned. "Don't get me wrong, it's great. Kind of weird, actually, how good it is. Like, the first time we did it, before we even started she just stared at me for a minute and told me exactly what to do. It was like something unlocked."
"Like new skin in Fortnite or something?"
"Fuck off, man, everyone's back on Minecraft's dick."
"Right, right, my bad. And perhaps her sexual intuition and perception are simply what comes along with it."
"Advice?"
Namjoon pondered for a moment. "There's really only one solution. You'll have to get another guy to feed her."
"What makes you think any of the other guys could handle her libido any better than I can?"
"That's not what I'm suggesting. I mean the two of you share her. If she's too much for one man, maybe she's enough for two. That is if you're both comfortable with the concept."
"Huh, didn't think of it like that," Hoseok admitted. "Do you think everyone would be ok with that?"
"A polyamorous, sexual relationship?" Namjoon questioned, quirking a brow. "I think so. Every man here has expressed at the very least sexual desire for Agent Q, and so far everyone's done well enough to be ok with the concept of you screwing her. If they can get some as well I'm sure there'd be no complaints. More efficient, anyway. Besides there's no actual risk, seeing as everyone's clean and there's no risk of pregnancy."
"What about Y/N?"
"You'd have to be the one to talk about it to her," Namjoon shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe she's got her own fantasy about being passed around seven guys."
"I think we'll just start with two for now."
"Good idea."
-
You nuzzle into Hoseok's side, your hand slowly creeping up his inner thigh. He let out a groan, suppressing it as he catches your hand. 
You look up at him, confused. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no, it's just..." Hoseok tries to figure out how he wants to phrase it but ultimately decides to be honest. "I don't think I can keep up at this rate, having sex as often as we do, I mean."
"Oh, I understand. I'm sorry, I should've put your feelings into consideration more. After all, your libido is normal," you say, retracting your hand. "I'll be able to hold off for a few days and give you time to rest."
"No, I don't want you to do that. You need to get your strength back completely and keep it there. You can't do that if you starve yourself."
"Well, what do you suggest?"
"Well, do you think you'd be open to introducing someone else into this as well? It might be easier if you feed on two guys."
"That's a good idea... are you ok with that, though? And would the other guy be? I know it's not like most polyamorous relationships, but sharing isn't exactly common."
"Look, I'd be completely fine with it. Your health is most important to me, and I'm a grown man, I can contain any jealousy as long as there's communication. Besides, you admitted it wasn't like most polyamorous relationships- this is strictly sexual and for your benefit. I don't doubt that whoever you pick will have the same mindset. You have six to choose from anyway."
"I don't want to choose, though. You know all of you are equal to me," you pout. Your eyes light up suddenly. "I know! We'll do the same thing we did last time, with the cards! But this time I want to watch."
"What? Are you sure? Won't that be kinda weird, since what they're essentially gambling for is you?"
"I know none of you think of me as some prize to be won. Besides, I think it'd be interesting. It's better than me anxiously waiting by myself for the results. Who came in second place last time, anyway?"
Hoseok thought for a moment. "I think that was Namjoon."
"Oooh, I wouldn't mind Namjoon. I wonder if he'd spit about the trade bonds between elves and vampires during the act."
"Dear God, I don't want to think about that," he groaned.
"And the fairies are in- in charge of," you panted, "in charge of STEEL!" You bucked your hips in the air, rolling your eyes back in lieu of an orgasm.
"You better hope that I don't tell him about this."
"Why not? I'll do it in front of him! Anyways, let's start the card game, I'm starving already."
-
You assumed the guys would play a game like Poker or something that could be played in a casino. You could see it already- the fancy Versace suits and the red and black, surrounding a table as they throw chips mindlessly on the table as though it were nothing.
Instead, it was six dorks in sweatpants surrounding a coffee table and playing Go Fish.
It was Jungkook's choice, seeing as he was the one with the cards. Oddly enough someone had to explain the rules to Jin. Fucking numbnuts.
"So, Agent P, got any sevens?" Jungkook questions, keeping his cards close to his face, glaring at Jimin from above.
Jimin only revealed a smug smirk. "Go fish, bitch."
"Fuck you!" Jungkook said. "You and your Agent Perry looking ass."
"Hey, look, that's why I chose it! It was between that, S, and E!"
"Perrry, perrry the platypussss," you sing under your breath from your spot beside Hoseok.
"I did always find it a bit funny that you chose that letter of all of them," Namjoon admitted as he stared disappointed at the two pairs he had. 
"I loved that show as a kid, I thought it was cool," Jimin admitted. "The platypus was my favorite character."
"Well, I think I can add another nickname to the list, Perry," you chuckle, poking your elbow into Hoseok's ribcage to elicit a laugh.
"You can call him Agent P," Hoseok jokes back.
"When you think about it there's a lot of things that can go with P," Jin comments. "Penis, pussy, Perry-"
"Pee and poo," Taehyung adds.
"Thanks, Agent V, for your contribution."
You bury your face in your hands. "I can't believe I'm going to sleep with one of you."
"Who knows? With your libido you might have to hump your way through the list," Yoongi adds, turning to Jimin. "You don't have any sevens, but got any twos?"
"It's not your turn, yet! Besides, don't phrase it like that," Jimin scowls.
"You're just saying that because you've got twos. Cough them up."
"I think it'd be best to stick to two for now and then work our way up. I don't want to be overwhelmed with dicks. This isn't Omegle," you comment. 
"God, that scarred me when I was younger," Jungkook says. "Jimin, it's your turn, are you going to make a move or what?"
"Well, Yoongi, got any twos?" Jimin questions.
"Fuck you man, I knew you had them," Yoongi says before tossing one over.
"Jungkook, you're still such a baby! A youngin who's growing so much!" you coo, reaching over to comb your fingers through his hair.
"I'm 21! I can drink in like every country! Besides, I don't think you want to go on about how young I am, considering I might have my dick down your throat at some point."
"As if, you're a total baby boy," you joke.
"We'll see about that," he growls beneath his breath.
"Hold it there, Agent Z. You're nowhere close to winning," Namjoon reminds him. It was right. He was in fourth place, with both Namjoon and Jin behind him. "I would've thought you'd be good at this game since you suggested it."
"It has nothing to do with skill! Next time we're playing BS," he grumbles.
Yoongi turns to Jin, "Got any Queens?"
"I got one on the couch," Jin says, tossing his head over to you.
"This is why you're in last place," you reply.
"Darn. B, got any Kings?"
"Dammit," Namjoon mutters, tossing over the king card, his last one.
"See! Now I'm tied with Namjoon," Jin gloats.  "Taehyung, any threes?"
"Go fish. Any Jacks?"
"That was my last one too!"
"Looks like you're out of the running then," Taehyung grins. "Perry, any fives? And sixes and while you're at it."
"Fuck you," Jimin hisses, giving the rest of his cards. "I was at the top too."
"You're not a top period," Taehyung fired back, chuckling. He looks over to Yoongi. "Aces?"
Yoongi hands over his second to last card, quirking a brow. "You're intent on winning this, aren't you?"
Taehyung's cheeks flush red, and you feel a bit of sympathy. "Well," you add, "you don't seem as though you're intent on losing."
"Didn't you know I was naturally competitive?" he quips back.
"Eights?" Taehyung asks Jungkook. 
Jungkook hands them over, a frustrated look on his face. "Are you cheating or something?" he asks, skeptical.
"No. Unlike you barbarians, I know how to pay attention," Taehyung says smugly. "And I'm guessing you've got a three to go along with that accusation?"
Jungkook coughs it up, groaning as he's out of the game. "Fuck, man! You've got to be shitting me.
"Yeah, and for all you know, some of us have ADHD or ADD," Hoseok adds.
"Alright, and for my final trick, I'm going to guess what everyone else has! All that's left are Namjoon and Yoongi's cards." Taehyung rubs at his temples, scrunching up his face as he makes a big show of it. "Good sir, I believe you have a two," he says, pointing at Yoongi, before reverting it to Namjoon. "And you have nine!"
Both toss their cards onto the coffee table, revealing to the room that Taehyung's magical predictions were indeed correct. Everyone was aghast, and for a moment you did feel as though you were in a casino, seeing men weep tears of both happiness and joy. 
Jungkook grabbed Taehyung into a light chokehold, running his knuckles along the older man's head as he roughhoused with him. "You bastard, you absolute bastard! You've got to be cheating!"
"I'm sorry I'm the only person who was focused on the game and not on Y/N's rack," he squeaked out.
"Damn, I thought they were distracting enough for at least seven men," you sighed.
"Don't worry,  babe, they're plenty distracting to me," Hoseok says, placing his arm around your shoulders.
"You've seen them!"
"So has Jimin, what's your point?"
"They're delightful, by the way," Jimin adds in.
"Well you've currently got a view straight down into the valley of betrayal."
"No one can help that you're a shortie amongst us, Q," Hoseok laughs.
"Fuck you!"
"You already have!" Hoseok quips.  "Multiple times, in fact." He looks over to Taehyung, who was gasping for breath once Jungkook had finally let him go. "Congrats on becoming an official member of Y/N's reverse harem, V."
"I thought we already were that as potential 'lovers'," the man gasped out.
"Yeah, but as I said, official," Hoseok grinned, reaching over to shake the boy's shoulders playfully, as though to knock sense or emphasis into him. 
"That's right Tae, you've won the grand prize from our show! An endless amount of pussy!" You launch yourself at him, embracing him in a bear hug. "And what a show you put on!"
"I'm not sure if you two are making this less or more weird," Taehyung grumbles, his breath once again taken from him due to the tightness of your grip.
"Weirder. Definitely weirder," Yoongi offers.
"You know those lifetime amounts that they offer though on TV shows aren't really infinite, though," Jin adds. "There's like this whole subreddit dedicated on it."
"That's why I said endless, not lifetime," you huff. "Besides, how's it rigged? Do they only send like a year's supply or do they kill the winner off?"
"Dear God, can we ever stay on track for a conversation?" Namjoon grumbled. "Maybe some of us do have ADD or ADHD."
"Wouldn't that show up in our records?" Jungkook questioned.
"Nah, you know how companies and society is. Mental illnesses aren't taken as seriously as physical ones. But there is some improvement on that as of late," Namjoon notes. 
"Does this mean we'll have to play cards any time we want to get laid?" Jimin questioned.
"Don't worry, Jimin, I'm more than happy to dick you down again," Yoongi offers.
204 notes · View notes
casseythebee · 5 years
Text
Mirror Mine (Peter Parker x reader AU)
Title: Mirror Mine
Prompt: Soulmate AU where when your soulmate writes something on their skin it shows up on yours and vice versa 
Summary: You go with your dad to one of Tony Stark’s party and there you meet him 
Pairing: Peter Parker x Female!Reader
Words: 1.8k-ish
Warning: slight swearing (blame Bucky “What the hell” Barnes, and fluff 
A/N: I know reader inserts usually have your age but in the story, the reader is on the younger side just so it makes sense with the story, sorry. Most of the ships aren’t cannon but just roll with it. 
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“Absolutely not.” 
Your father looked instantly pissed when you walked into the room. You were heading to one of the biggest nights of your father’s career. It was one of  Tony Stark’s big parties and your father had been invited to spark up some business deal or whatever, you honestly had no clue. He was supposed to bring your mother as a plus one, but your little brother had fallen ill with a slight cold, and she wanted to stay with him. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask throwing your hands in the air and rolling your eyes.
He gestures to your clothes and says in a disgusted tone of voice, “There is no way you are wearing that. This is a big night for me and I need you to look amazing and act amazingly.” 
A tight red plaid mini skirt fit snugly on your hips, under the skirt black tights hugged your toned legs, and a black crop top accentuated your curves. You had smacked blood-red lipstick, a messy braid fell down your shoulders along with a golden chain necklace. And to tie the whole outfit together,  a nice black leather jacket. 
“I knew this would happen so I went out last night and picked out a dress, let's go try it on,” your mom chimes in. 
“Okay but please be quick, ladies,” your dad says. 
“The dress is gorgeous and I can redo your makeup to match, oh you are going to look so pretty!” your mom exclaims leading you into her room. 
“Names,” a cold voice demands to your father. 
“(Y/D/F/N) and my plus one is my daughter (Y/F/N),” your father reassures him handing him the invitation he got at work. It’s a small, ivory piece of paper with swirly, gold letters printed on it. 
“Isn’t she a little young?” the buff bouncer asks tipping down his glasses and looking you up and down. 
“That my kind sir is none of your damn business.” 
With your arm linked through your fathers, you guys walk into the Avengers compound and head through the all-white front foyer- your father's shoes making clacking noises while your ballet shoes are utterly silent- and head to the glass elevator. Your father presses a higher number, number 10, as the elevator travels upwards you catch quick glances of the other rooms, they all look like living spaces, and one sterile-looking hallway with many doors branching off. 
When the elevator finally stops you guys step out of the elevator and look out into the room. It is filled with people, some you recognize some you don’t, the girls all wearing elegant dresses, and the men suits and tuxedos. There is a massive bar on one wall, some couches scattered around everywhere, a wall made entirely of windows, a DJ booth on another wall, speakers placed at random everywhere, and a dance floor in the middle. 
“Okay so the objective is to mingle around with as many people as possible, okay?” your dad explains. 
You give him a light shake of your head and he drops your arm and struts over to a group of people, completely at ease. Not sure what to do you follow him towards the group. 
When he gets to the group they all exclaim his name and welcome him in like they’ve known him for years. 
“I said go mingle, and be polite, and just make a good example.” He shoves you off lightly. 
Not sure what he means by make a good impression you head over to the bar to get a drink. Noticing how young you are the bartender completely ignores you by serving everyone else around you. No one notices that you are there and does nothing to help you. 
“Can I get a glass of champagne and an old-fashioned?” a smoky voice asks. 
You look up to see none other than James Buchanan Barnes the former Winter Soldier. He has his hair slick back and a plain black tux. “You are James Buchanan Barnes,” you marvel. Then you shake your head and add, “I’m sorry if that was rude.” You look down at the bar ashamed of your behavior. 
“Hey, it’s fine. Really you’d be surprised how many people here look at me and see the terrifying ‘Winter Soldier’. It’s nice to meet someone who sees me for me.” 
“Oh yeah, I know none of that ‘Winter Soldier’ stuff is your fault. I mean you are a great person so I guess that’s all that matters,” you say with a shrug. 
He chuckles and asks, “Can I buy you a drink?” 
“Oh no, I can’t drink! I’m too young to drink. I’m just trying to get water.” 
“Thank you. Can I also get water please?” 
James Buchanan Barnes takes a sip of his old fashioned and asks, “Wait if you are so young what the hell are you doing at one of Tony Stark’s parties?” 
“Well my dad is here to make a good impression to these people for his job and my mom would have been his date but she had to stay home to take care of my brother. So he brought me.” You punctuate the sentence with a shrug. 
“Well how about you come over and meet the gang? Come with me.” He starts walking away but adds, “You can call me Bucky by the way.” 
Remembering what your dad said about being polite you promise yourself not to drool over the heroes and make a fool of yourself. Bucky leads you over to one of the couches, there are some people sitting on it some around it. You recognize all of them even in their fancy clothing. 
“Okay so this is Nat she is Russian and angry, don’t cross her. Tony the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Stevie the blond beauty.” Steve’s face blushes bright red. “Thor the muscular alien king. Loki the trickster he will try to kill you at some point, but it is okay because he is really just a softy.” Loki gives him a grunt and a dirty look. “Bruce, he is also a big softy, but don’t make him angry. Sam he really sucks, we just hang out with him because we pity him. Rhodes now him we all love. Peper, now she is the best, like the best, we all love her. Nick, he scares me, but I’m sure there is a sweetie inside under all of the angry shell. Clint, he is dumb and shoots arrows. Scott, he can make himself small and do close up magic. And everyone this is… I actually don’t know.” 
“My name is (Y/N). And it’s nice to meet all of you. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” 
“Nonsense, we were just discussing soulmates. Where were you, Mr. Blond Beauty?” Tony teases. 
“I… was uh saying that when Bucky was regaining his memory, he would write little notes on his hands and they would show up on mine. It was kind of like a little peek into his head.” 
“Yeah, I get Stevie’s doodles on my skin,” Bucky swoons. They are staring lovingly into each other's eyes and everyone but you seems to find it disgusting and annoying. 
“Ignoring that, sometimes I see equations and whatnot show up on my skin, and I think it’s kind of cute seeing what Jane is working on when I’m not around,” Thor admits with a shrug. 
“Same!” Pepper and Natasha sigh at the same time, and that earns a chuckle out of everyone, a smirk from Tony, and a blush from Bruce. 
“Yeah every once and a while I get equations on my hands when Hope needs to remember stuff,” Scott adds rolling up his sleeve to show everyone. 
“What about you, (Y/N)? Any cool stuff on your skin?” Tony asks turning to you. 
Every eye in the group is staring at you. You can feel all of them beating down on you. You can’t mess up and embarrass your family so you simply say, “Yeah I guess, a phone number and a name here and there. Most of the time it is just due dates for projects at school.” 
“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Stark. Everyone else, sorry,” says a cute little squeaky voice coming up behind you. The person the voice belongs to sits down next to you, almost on top of you. He has soft brown eyes, fluffy brown hair, a sharp jawline, and a smile that could light up the room. 
“Hey kid, nice suit,” Mr. Stark says, admiration in his eyes. 
“Where have you been, Pete?” Steve asks, leaning over you to tousle his hair. 
His face turns ruby red. “I had to wait for Aunt May to get out of work so she could drive me.” The boy scans the room his eyes stopping at you, he looks you up and down his jaw practically dropping to the floor. 
A navy blue ball gown is fanned out around you. The dress itself is a bit poofy at the bottom and floor-length, and it is decorated with lace appliques. White eyeshadow tinted with gold sparkles dusts your eyes and lip gloss coats your lips. You and your mom decide on just doing natural hair just using hairspray to keep it in a position you like. 
The boy's brown eyes skim over you again, stopping at your breasts before moving on to your lips, your nose, your shimmering eyes, and lands on your hair framing your face. 
“Hi,” he breathes a little smile on his face. “I’m Peter by the way.” 
“I’m (Y/N).” You look down your skin tinged red as a blush creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks. 
“How about you, sweetie?” Natasha asks looking at Peter. “What kind of stuff shows up on your skin?” 
“Oh my gosh, it is the most beautiful thing,” he gushes, “swirls and flowers and all kinds of designs. I love it every time I wake up there is a new one.” He pauses. “One night I was up late doing homework and I sat there for almost an hour watching the ink flow onto my skin. It was a few minutes until 4 by the time I couldn’t stand being up that long so I collapsed and by the time I woke up there was pen marks up my left arm almost like a sleeve tattoo.” 
You run your hand up your arm and goosebumps appear. 
“What is that on your arm, (Y/N)?” Bruce asks gesturing towards you. 
A surprised noise escapes your mouth and you look down reading the marks on the backside of your palm. They read, “Don’t forget to ask Tony about the rose for Aunt May”. 
“Um, it’s… just, um,” you stutter. 
Next to you, Peter’s eyes go wide as he reads and he slaps his hands over his mouth in surprise. Everyone can clearly see what is written on his hand matches what is on yours. 
“Well, you know what that means!” Tony whoops. 
Next thing you know you and Peter are caught in a dog pile as everyone in the group is on top of you. 
The rest of the night you and Peter take turns answering each other's and the rest of the group’s questions as a “get to know you”. 
124 notes · View notes
krizaland · 5 years
Text
Defying Gravity Chapter 2
First Chapter
Hey guys! I finally managed to churn out the second chapter! This fic is dedicated to the anon who sent the request that started it all!  Enjoy!
Zim slid to the ground as sobs racked his body. This was it. His new mission was to serve and protect you and he had failed.
“Y/N...I’m so sorry....I have failed you.” Zim’s voice was cold as tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Need me to make some more nachos?” GIR asked sympathetically.
“Neyah?” Minimoose squeaked as they snuggled up to Zim.
Suddenly Zim’s PAK sparked again.  
“Zim, you’re not a failure! You’re literally one of the strongest people I know! I don’t care what your leaders think! You’ll always be my favorite Invader!”
Your words echoed in Zim’s mind, causing another surge of rebellion to rampage through his veins.
“No!”
Zim jumped to his feet and dried his tears.
“The tallest may have my human but that doesn’t mean I’ve failed! I refuse to return to my cheesy cocoon of misery!  I WILL SAVE Y/N IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!” Zim roared as he threw his hands into the air.
Meanwhile, you were beamed aboard The Massive.  
You rubbed your eyes and blinked as your body adjusted to The Massive’s climate.
When your vision cleared you let out a yelp! You were not only face to face with Zim’s leaders but they were way bigger than you expected them to be! They practically towered over you as they leaned down to get a better look at you.
Both Tallest’s PAKs sparked again.
You were even more attractive in person!  The way the bright lights of The Massive kissed your skin made it look like you were glowing!  Despite the fear on your face, your E/C eyes seemed to twinkle with stardust.
Needless to say, you were waay more attractive than any of the other humans Zim had shown them.
“They’re so pretty! Can we keep them?!” Purple squealed as he clasped his hands.
“We’re not going to keep them, I am going to keep them.” Red insisted as he gestured to himself.
“What?! Why do you get to keep the pretty human?!” Purple whined as he put his hands on his hips.
“Because I’m responsible enough to take care of them. You couldn’t even take care of a pet rock.” Red mused smugly.
“It’s not my fault Nebby ran away!” Purple pouted as he folded his arms.
You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Fear had tied your tongue in knots. All you could do was let out a whimper and hold back your tears.
Red turned his attention back to you. His face fell a bit when he noticed that you were on the verge of tears.
“Fear not, human! We mean you no harm! You have just been selected to participate in a very special program.” Red lied as he struggled to think of a way to calm you down.
“Man, you’re pretty!” Purple sighed as he tried to push past Red.
Red pushed Purple aside and promptly blocked your view of him.
“Anyway, you have been chosen because you are the perfect candidate for becoming the royal…um pet!”” Red chuckled nervously as he clasped his hands together.
“What?! A pet?!” You were flabbergasted by such a degrading title.
“Yes! It is the um…Highest honor in The Irken Empire ever.” Purple lied as he shoved past Red.
Your fear of the Tallest aside, the mere thought of being their pet made you want to vomit. You didn’t want to be anyone’s pet! You didn’t care if the Tallest were royalty or not! You weren’t some puppy or kitten! You were a strong independent individual! The nerve of these jerks!  
Zim would never treat you like an animal! Zim treated you with the love and respect you deserved! Oh how you wished he was here right now! A few tears begun to trickle down your face as you were painfully reminded of why you were here in the first place.
“I’m honored...” You sniffled as you wiped away your tears.
Before Purple could say another word, Red shoved past him again, this time it was hard enough to knock Purple flat on his rear.
Purple growled as he stood back up and tried to push Red. The two Tallest were about to throw hands when..
“My Taaallest! Perhaps you could let the human decide who they would rather serve?” One of the pilots piped up as the rest watched the show.
“Seize that guy and throw him out the airlock!” Purple commanded as he pointed to the pilot who spoke up.
The pilot screamed as two guards rushed in and threw him out the airlock.
“Wait! What if we let the human deicide who they’d rather spend time with-I mean serve?!” Red suggested as he pointed to the sky.
“Ok fine! But I know the human is going to choose me!” Purple pouted as he folded his arms.
Red growled at Purple before turning to face you.
“You’ll have to excuse him. Anyway, perhaps you should come with me so I can...um tell you more about your role!” Red urged as he gestured for you to follow him.
“Wait! Wait! Wait! You are not going anywhere looking like that!” Purple huffed as he gestured to your outfit.
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” You asked as you looked down at your outfit.
“It’s boring! You need something better! Servants! Bring me my designing tablet!” Purple demanded as he clapped his hands.
Within a few minutes a servant ran in with a large alien tablet.
“That’ll be all!” Purple sneered as he snatched the tablet out of the servant’s hands.
“Seriously?! Is this really necessary?!” Red snapped as he put his hands on his hips.
“No pet of mine is going to walk around looking boring!” Purple poured as he scribbled away on his tablet.
“There!” Purple put the tablet’s stylus into a small slot on top of the tablet.
He then proceeded to place the tablet into a nearby vacuum tube.
SHOOMP!
The tablet was sucked up the tube.
Suddenly a much larger tube dropped from the ceiling and landed right on top of you!
“Their clothes aren’t even that ba-” Red began before the sound of the tube whirring cut him off.
FSHHHH!
With a bright flash, the tube lifted to reveal you looking absolutely regal!
You were adorned in a gorgeous F/C floor length silk robe with golden accents, a golden crown encrusted with sparkling jewels, and the Royal Irken insignia painted on the center of your forehead.
Red’s PAK sparked as his jaw hit the floor. You looked stunning!
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Purple did a wonderful job cleaning you up.
“You look perfect!” Purple squealed as his PAK sparked.
“Thank you very much!” You spluttered as you looked down at your fancy clothes.
You had to admit, for an evil alien warlord, Purple sure had a good fashion sense.
“See? I told you they’d pick me!” Purple giggled as he gave Red a smug grin.
“They didn’t pick you. They were just thanking you.” Red huffed as he made his way over to you.
You felt your stomach churn. You were so surprised by your fancy clothes that you had forgotten that the Tallest wanted to keep you as a pet!
“Now that you’re properly dressed, you can come with me to my private chambers for your debriefing.” Red insisted as he gestured for you to follow him.
You simply nodded and followed Red to his chambers.
Purple pouted and folded his arms. He knew he had to think of a way to win you over and fast!
Next
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sighfertryptich · 5 years
Text
Hidden Beauty - m
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trying to keep your identity a secret from the world had his challenges, especially when a boy with a goofy smile decides to give you his attention.
pairing: chanyeol x female reader
genre: smut, fluff, hybrid!au
word count: 6000+
A/N: This is the first scenario I’ve written in over 3 years, so please be nice, lol. I’ve been in a huuuuuge Chanyeol space for like weeks now and this fic had to be done. 
Growing up, you had a faint idea of how you wanted to live your life. Maybe you wanted to find someone who loved you and stay with them the rest of your life until you became old and had grey hairs. Maybe you even wanted to find someone who would want to marry you. But it never worked like that for your kind.
Through the years, the hybrids slowly mixed in with the humans. It was a bit weird the first time the two species mixed, seeing people like you but without ears and a tail, and it frightened you in a sense. The human kids would mess with you, pulling on your ears or stick gum to your long, fluffy tail. You got over it, though. As years passed, it became more natural to see the hybrids becoming friendlier with the humans.
You never trusted them in the slightest. You were scared of them.
Because of this fault, you rarely made friends. You didn't talk to anyone in your school, so people thought you were just mute and didn't bother attempting conversation. You always hid your ears and tail, shoving a beanie over your black ears with brown tips in an attempt to hide them, your tail being shoved into baggy pants held tightly to your waist with a belt.
It wasn't insecurity that had you hiding who you were. It was more fear than anything. Fear to the bullying you might endure if people found out, whether or not other hybrids were out in the open. You didn't want to take the chance.
You first started hiding your appendages when you moved to your new town, some small town in the suburbs of Seoul. Your mom always wondered why, but never asked. You didn't talk to her either. To the world, you were the silent nobody that merely existed. And you were okay with that.
Sitting in your desk, you dragged your pen along your paper making scribbles of god-knows-what while your teacher groaned on and on about hybrid history. You knew all of this, considering your free time was spent scanning through websites upon websites about anything and everything you could find. Your favorite were the Greek gods and their hybrid pets. Whether or not they were real wasn't a huge concern to you. You still enjoyed knowing about them.
A soft yawn left your lips, covering your mouth with your hand that held your pen. 'Jesus,' you thought, looking up to the clock, 'this hour is never going to end.'
A post-it note was slid onto your desk from your right, adorning a black ink that simply said 'Boring, right?'. Your eyes widened softly, and you could feel your ears twitch underneath your hat before you forced them to stop. Your eyes dragged to your right, looking up into the dark eyes of a human. His hair was red, his roots slightly grown out to show the natural dark brown of his hair. His skin was like honey, and his eyes smiled when his lips tugged.
You looked from him to his note, writing a quick 'I guess.' on it. He reached over and took his note back, chuckling softly so the teacher didn't notice. He began writing again, but before he could reach it back over to you, the bell rang, and you were already packed and out the door before he could talk to you any more than he already had.
Lunch period was next, and as always, you stood in line to grab your sandwich and apple juice so you could head to the library to stick your head in another book. Maybe they had some you haven't read already today.
"Hey!" You heard someone yell. You didn't bother looking over, you knew it wasn't for you. It never was.
Except, today it was. "Hey! You're the girl I sit next to in History, right?" The same man from before trotted over to you, standing much too close for comfort. It was then when you noticed that he towered over you. Your eyes trailed up to his, his goofy smile adorning his face once more. You nodded quickly, staring up with wide eyes. He smiled widely. "Sorry I couldn't continue our conversation. I'm Chanyeol, just started here yesterday." When you didn't reply, his smile dropped a little.
The people behind you in line stared at the two of you, in awe that someone was actually talking to you, let alone trying to make conversation. "Hey, Chanyeol, is it?" Some girl said, walking up to the two of you. Her hair was a faded pink color, kind of like a strawberry blonde color. You looked from him to her as she wrapped her arm around his.
Touchy much?
"Don't bother talking to Alien over here. She doesn't speak anyways. Why don't you come sit with me and my friends?" She said with a smile. She was shorter than you, and much thinner, unlike you. At your nickname, your eyes fell to the floor and back to the line ahead of you. "My name is Rose, by the way. We have English together." She said matter-of-factly.
Chanyeol's smile was gone by now, his eyes switching between Rose and you. He stayed silent for a moment, before speaking up. "No thanks. I don't want to hang around with people who make derogatory nicknames for someone who just doesn't want to speak."
The way her face fell almost made you laugh. Actually, you did. You laughed at his comment, your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment almost immediately after. Chanyeol's eyes lit up when you did, his entire being now focused on you.
With that, Rose huffed off, her eyes rolling as she stammered off to her friends.
"Anyways," He continued, "I know your name's not Alien. But when you feel comfortable, I'd love to know your real name."
He trudged off with his final comment.
"He's cute, you know. Maybe worth talking to." The lunch lady caught you off guard, your whole body jumping at her voice. You took your sandwich and ran back to your comfort zone.
Your next class was English. Coming from America, you had no clue why they made you take this class, but you gave in considering it was an easy A and a good class to draw in.
You noticed Chanyeol across the room, listening intently to the pronunciation of each word before writing it quickly. He was cute, you had to admit. But never in your life would you speak to him.
He was human. You didn't want to even think about it.
You started to draw, focusing on each line you sketched before inking it all out. It was good, your best yet.
Wait, the drawing looked familiar.
Shit.
You absentmindedly drew Chanyeol.
Everything in your being wanted to rip it up and throw it away, but it was your best work. You wanted to cherish him.
THE DRAWING. You meant the drawing.
You head flopped onto the table with a quiet thunk, the ears under your hat hanging low. Before you realized, the homework was being handed out and the bell was ringing. You sighed, sitting up and -
“Is that a drawing of Yeolie?” A female voice who sounded all too familiar was next to you, lifting your sketchbook off your desk, bringing it up into her arms. Your eyes widened, head flinging up to look up at Rose. “Chanyeol! Look! Alien over here drew you! How cute.” She said, holding the sketchbook high above her head.
Chanyeol looked up from packing his bag, eyes furrowing. Before you could sneak attack it out of her hands, she was trotting over to his desk, showing him your drawing.
You could quite literally be anywhere but here right now. Your breathing became panicked, and your first reaction was to run. So of course, your bag was on your arm and running out of the classroom. Some of Rose’s friends, who you’d known since you moved here as Jennie, Lalisa, and Jisoo, were laughing at you as you bolted out. “Hey! Wait!” Chanyeol yelled after you.
You didn’t care if they had your sketchbook anymore. You just wanted to go home. Home was your safe place. But you couldn’t. Not unless you wanted to get yelled at by your mom for skipping school for such a dumb reason.
Your breathing leveled out as you reached your locker, opening it and switching out some of your books.
Your best drawing just HAD to be HIM. Your life already sucked, and this was just the icing on the cake. “Hey.” Chanyeol’s voice startled you, making you hit your hand on the shelf inside your locker in surprise. “Oh, jeez! Sorry.” He chuckled softly. Your eyes lowered again, finding your sketchbook in his hand.
You inwardly groaned, shoving your head in your locker. “Hey, no. It’s okay.” He said with a soft chuckle. “Don’t worry about those girls. They’re assholes anyways.” He said, looking back down to your drawing. “Although, I do really like your drawing. You made me look handsomer than I really am.” You pulled your head out to look at him, slowly reaching out to take the sketchbook back from him.
Your fingers curled around your book, pulling it to your chest while your eyes flickered everywhere.
Why were you nervous? This wasn’t like you. You thought it might be because this was the first time anyone besides your parents were nice to you.
“So, why do you always wear this beanie?” He asked, reaching up to touch it, but you immediately shot up and caught his wrist, shaking your head silently. He caught on pretty quick, a soft blush reaching his cheeks.
You grabbed a piece of paper and wrote on the locker next to your own. ‘It’s a fashion choice.’ You wrote. He chuckled for a second, and you smiled in response. “Well, since you’re talking in a way, how about you finally give me your name?” He asked.
You thought for a second. It wouldn’t hurt to at least give him your name.
You wrote it down and showed it to him. “See, that’s a much cuter name than Alien.” He laughed, before picking your pen from your fingers and writing down numbers on the paper. “Well, ____, here’s my number. I think we can be good friends.” With that, he walked off, leaving you in shellshock.
God, finally. You were home. You pulled off your beanie to let your ears breathe, wiggling them out as they stuck out of your hair. You also traded your baggy pants for some shorts, letting your tail fly free. Your tail was an impressive length, longer than your parents and cousins. Longest in your family behind your late Grandma.
You plopped down in bed and pulled out your bag to get started on homework. Pulling out your papers, you came across the loose-leaf with Chanyeol’s number on it.
You weren’t gonna do it. You’d already gone too far giving your name. What would you even talk with him about? No. You wou-
Damnit, you were already texting him.
[You] Hey Chanyeol. (4:23pm)
[Chanyeol] I would ask who this is but not many people have my number. Look who actually texted! (4:25pm)
[You] It’s not too late for me to block your number, lol. (4:26pm)
[Chanyeol] Yknow, for being so quiet you really are feisty. It’s quite attractive. (4:26pm)
You paused at his last comment, blushing intensely. This was a bad idea, you knew it was, but something kept pulling you to him. Your phone buzzed again with another text.
[Chanyeol]
Shit, did I scare you away? (4:31pm)
[You]
No, it takes a lot more to scare me. (4:31pm)
[Chanyeol]
Ah good. (4:32pm)
The next few weeks had passed and you and Chanyeol texted nonstop. He was quickly becoming your best friend.
Well, only friend. But you get the point.
You and Chanyeol started meeting after school. He’d talk to you and you’d text in response, earning a laugh out of him every now and then.
Eventually, the talks got more serious, about each others deepest fears. He had said his biggest fear was not being able to make a name of himself. With a soft sigh, you texted him that your biggest fear was being exposed.
When he read your message, his eyebrows furrowed. “Exposed? What do you mean?” He asked, looking into your eyes. You didn’t answer, only slowly looking back down to your hands.
“Come on, talk to me. What do you mean by being exposed?” His words were soft as he leaned towards you.
In that moment, you finally said your first words after easily 10 years.
“I don’t want people to know who I really am.” You said softly. He sat there in shock, taking in your voice for the first time. “___… You… You spoke.” He said softly. You nodded softly as a reply. “I’ve always been able to speak. It’s just easier if I didn’t.” You said, looking up to his eyes that were immediately connected with yours.
It stayed quiet for a moment after that, his eyes never leaving yours. “Who are you, really? Who’s the ___ you don’t want people finding out?” His words were hard, yet at the exact same time they were caring. You looked away from him, looking down at the set of bleachers you were currently sat on top of.
“____.” His voice was much more caring now. You knew he wouldn’t let it go until you told him.
But you couldn’t. Not here.
“I want to tell you. I do. But not here. Not where people could see.” You said softly, your voice sounding scared to what he would think. “You’re scaring me, ___. Are you like, a secret axe murderer or something?” His chuckle made your mood lighten, it always did.
“Well, then let’s go to my place. My parents won’t be home. You can tell me in privacy.”
Before you knew it, you were sat in Chanyeol’s car on the way to his house. What in the hell were you doing? You were absolutely insane. THIS was insane. You were going to show him your hybrid limbs? What if he told someone? What if Rose and her clan found out? They’d mock you for the rest of your high school days.
Pulling up to his house, you stepped out to follow him up to his door and into his house. He immediately grabbed your wrist and dragged you into his living room. His eyes were back on you in less than a second.
“Well?” You could tell he was impatient, still vastly curious about what you could be hiding. You hesitated, hands up to your chest gripping each other in almost protest.
But eventually, you gave in under his stare. You reached up to your beanie and slowly pulled it off, your ears low in fear.
His entire demeanor changed upon the sight. “You…” He started, still in disbelief. “You’re a hybrid?” He asked, his eyes fixed on your ears as he studied each and every hair on them. You gave him a soft nod, slowly reaching down to push down your pants, his hands scrambling to stop you.
“Woah, woah. What are you doing?” He said, his hands on your wrists. You continued, pulling down your pants just far enough to let your tail free. He paused once more.
It went on for what seemed like 30 minutes, him taking in the fact you were a hybrid. “C-Chanyeol?” You asked softly, waving your hand in front of his face. He seemed to snap out of his trance. “THIS is what you’ve been scared of people finding out? That you’re a hybrid? ___, there are hybrids all over school. All over the world even.” He said, looking you dead in the eyes.
“Yes, but I’m a cat hybrid. They’re extremely rare and made up from the hybrids that were used for sex slaves up until less than 30 years ago. There are still some that are being held to this day.” You said, your long, fluffy tail wrapping around your leg. He sighed softly, reaching out to hug you.
Your face landed on his hard chest, his arms wrapping around you gently. “Well, if you don’t want anyone to know, I won’t be the one to tell them.” He said softly, petting you gently.
“Holy shit, __. Are you purring?”
A few more weeks had passed and you and Chanyeol had hung out literally every night at his place. His parents were never home due to their jobs or whatever, not that you minded in the slightest. You and Chanyeol always had fun, whether it was watching movies, playing video games, or just chilling and doing homework.
You could tell your guard was down for him. It had been since day one. You didn’t mind it being down for him either. You trusted him. He trusted you. Together, you were a force that had no end.
But this one day in particular, your walls being down was probably your worst fault.
“Hey Alien! Is Chanyeol nearby?” You heard a female come up. It wasn’t Rose, but rather Jennie. Rose and the others were with her anyways, along with a few other girls you knew the faces of but not the names.
Of course, you didn’t speak to them. Your eyes just narrowed slightly before turning back to your open locker and grabbing your stuff. “No? Aw. Too bad. Looks like your sexy giant isn’t here to help you.” She snickered at you as you closed your locker and turned to walk away.
“Oh no no, sweetheart.” Lalisa said, stepping in front of you, blocking you from leaving. “See, we heard a rumor and we wanted to see if it was really true.” She said, a smirk on her face. Once again, you tried to push past her, but Jennie quickly pushed you into the lockers, making you slam your back into the hard metal.
“Trying to run, are we? Is there something we shouldn’t find out about you?” Rose laughed out, walking up to you, leaning close into your face. Your eyes stared dead into hers. Jisoo chirped in behind her. “Are we talking about her crush on Chanyeol or..?” You could tell Jisoo was just roped in without actually being told what was going on.
“No, you dimwit. We’re talking about this.” She said quickly before reaching up and ripping off your beanie. Your ears were now out into open air, and your hands were scrambling to cover them.
All of the girls gasped. “So it IS true!” Lalisa yelled, a large smile on her face. “Oh, now I’m curious.” Jennie said quickly, reaching to your pants and flinging them to your ankles, not only exposing your tail but also inevitably exposing your underwear to the school.
Your hands went from trying to hide your ears to trying to hide your pantslessness. “Oh sweetheart, don’t be shy. We all know your kind is used for sex. Always has been, and always will be.” She laughed at you, backing up to the rest of the girls.
You were mortified. Not only were you exposed to the world as being the worst hybrid breed out there, but so was your womanhood. You didn’t know if you were shocked or scared, but you were frozen to your spot, afraid to move.
At that moment, Chanyeol and a couple of his friends, whom you’d met and learned their names were Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Kai, and Junmyeong, turned the corner and saw everything that was going down. Chanyeol’s emotion flicked from confusion, to worry, to pure anger.
Him and his friends ran over, Chanyeol directly in front of you in between yourself and Rose. His other friends guarded your sides, making sure no one could see you in between them. “Aww, Yeolie is protecting little Alien. How cute.” Jennie piped in, and Rose’s smile only got bigger.
“Yeolie, I don’t know why you hang around that skanky hybrid. We all know it’s out of pity. You and I both know that I’m the girl you want to be with.” Rose said softly, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. Anger seethed out of every pore Chanyeol owned.
“If you thought that even for a second that I wanted you, you’re sadly mistaken.” He started, pushing her off of him. “The reason I love ___ isn’t because she’s a hybrid. The reason I love ___ isn’t out of pity. The reason I love ___ is because she is sweeter, kinder, and more caring than all of you whores combined. If you thought that getting to me this way was the way about going to say you ‘liked me’, then god damnit I wish you were a man so I could beat the shit out of you. But I don’t hit women, if you could even call yourself that.”
By the end of his speech, he had her backed against the opposite wall. His voiced had dropped to a growl, his eyes seering with everliving rage. “If I ever see you even look at ___ again, best believe you’ll regret it.”
When he turned away from her, his eyes met yours. You had started crying somewhere in his speech not noticing until his eyes were on you. His face softened immediately and sprinted over to you.
His eyes scanned your body for any harm, and when he didn’t find any, he helped you pull up your pants over your tail. You were still frozen, eyes following him quickly in soft panic. “C-Chanyeol…” You said in between sobs, your hands still trying to cover yourself. When he pulled up your pants and tightened your belt around your waist, his hands cupped your face.
He shushed you softly, staring into your eyes. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here. You don’t have to worry about anything. Not while I’m here.” He said, pulling you into his chest as you sobbed softly, still in blown panic mode.
A crowd had formed when Chanyeol had backed Rose into a corner. Speaking of which, Rose was still in shock against the wall, her eyes wide in both shock and fear, her friends trying to comfort her.
All that came out of her mouth was “That was so goddamn sexy.”
You honestly thought she needed help.
Chanyeol quickly thanked his friends and each of them tried to comfort you, but you wouldn’t listen. All you needed right now was Chanyeol. He was all you wanted.
“Come on, ___. Let’s go home.” He said softly, dragging you off.
The car ride back to his house was a quiet one. When the two of you got back to his house, it wasn’t much of a surprise that it was the two of you alone. You’d only met his parents 3 different times. They liked you as far as you could tell. He even met your own parents a few times. Your parents liked him a little too much.
He brought you up to his room, changing you into a few of his clothes. Or at least, he gave you one of his hoodies and a pair of his basketball shorts that he no longer fit and turned around to let you change.
When you finished, you hugged his back gently and wrapped your tail around the two of you.
He let out a soft sigh, turning around and hugging you to him. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence. “Thank you, Channie.” You said softly, your face buried into his shirt. “For what?” His tone of voice matched yours, speaking softly as he laid his head on top of yours onto one of your ears.
“I don’t know. For helping me earlier. For not giving up on me even though I went over two months not saying a word to you. For accepting me when no one else did.” You said softly, looking up into his eyes. His eyes were soft and his eyebrows were knit together.
“Of course, ___. What kind of man would I be if I didn’t?” He asked rhetorically, making you smile softly. “Chanyeol?” You had one simple question to ask him. He hummed in response, still staring into your eyes. “What did you mean when you say you loved me?”
Over the last few months, as you and Chanyeol’s relationship grew stronger, so did your feelings for him. Sure, you were still scared of humans, proven by Rose and her cult, but Chanyeol was different. You knew there were good humans out there, also proven by Chanyeol’s friends who knew your secret and still cared for you. But no one out there would ever treat you how Chanyeol did.
Every single late-night movie night, every rant about something stupid, every cuddle after one of you had fallen asleep watching random Netflix movies, everything he did made you fall deeper and deeper for him. It scared you more than anything else in the world. You always feared that falling for him would scare off the one person you cared about most, and the only person who cared for you the same amount as you did him.
His eyes bore into yours, his chest rising and falling against yours. “I meant that I loved you. You’re the most amazing person I could’ve ever met, ___. Every smile you make, every stupid joke that you think is hilarious when it totally isn’t, every little thing you do makes me fall head over fucking heels for you, ___. I said I loved you before, and I’m telling you now. ___, I’m in love with you. I have been since the moment I met you, and it was sealed when I heard your laugh in the lunch line. You’re like a vice grip on my heart.”
Your heart launched for the moon. Slowly, you lifted yourself and placed your lips on his, sealing them together. The two of your lips mended like a two perfect halves of a soul combining as one.
One hand moved to rest on your cheek, the other on you waist as he pulled you in closer, deepening the kiss in the most sensual way possible.
After a moment, he pulled away softly. “Chanyeol?” You said softly. He hummed back in response, his lips slightly swollen. “You know, the way you talked to Rose earlier was kinda hot.” You laughed out, and even got a laugh from him as well, showing his all too familiar goofy grin. “Maybe I should get angry at people more often then.”
When the laughter subsided, you gave him a soft smile, before opening your mouth to speak again. “Chanyeol…” It would’ve gotten his attention if it hadn’t already been on you. “I want you to be my first…”
His smile completely faded. “Oh, ___… You don’t want that. You don’t want me.” He said softly. His insecurities were his biggest downfall. His eyes fell away from yours, but you grabbed his chin gently to meet your eyes with his.
“I do. You’re the only guy in existance to make me feel as happy as you do. I want you to make love to me. Be my first and my last. Make me yours, Park Chanyeol.” His eyes searched yours for any sign of difference, mentally asking you if you were sure about everything you just told him. He couldn’t find a single shred.
Slowly, once more, his lips found yours. The warmth of his lips spread along yours like wildfire. His tongue dragged along your bottom lip, and you, albeit excitedly, allowed him access. The kiss grew deeper by the seconds, becoming much more heated yet with the same amount of love and care that was there moments ago.
The two of you stumbled backwards until the backs of your knees hit his bed, and slowly, he laid you down as if you were the most fragile thing in the universe. Your lips never broke, only until he pulled away to give kisses to your neck and jaw, tonguing them with the amount of care he would give his most prized possession. You let out a soft purr when he found the sweet spot on your neck, and eagerly, he nipped on it, leaving an easy mark on the virgin skin.
It wasn’t until you started grabbing at his shirt that he pulled away and held your hands. “Baby, let me take care of you.” His words were soft and caring, but he still didn’t hesitate to lift his shirt over your head, careful of your ears. You were left simply in a bra and his shorts, suddenly feeling much smaller than him, as if you hadn’t known this simple fact before.
He stepped back for a moment, taking in the new amount of skin on display. “God, you’re gorgeous.” He said softly before attaching his lips to your collarbone. This is where he left his second mark. You let out a wanton moan, drifting into his ears like a symphony.
“Can I take this off?” He asked softly, his thumb stroking your bra, and you nodded a little too excitedly. You’d be lying if you said that none of these actions sent heat directly to your core. He slid his hands behind your back and tangled with the clasp before finally getting it off. He pulled it off of you and flung it on the floor somewhere behind him, neither of you caring as the moment.
His lips found your neck again, his tongue lapping downwards until it reached you nipple, his teeth scraping gently across it before tugging on it, sending a moan out through your lips. He soothed the area afterwards with his tongue, using his hand to play with the other.
His lips began traveling lower until he reached the edge of the shorts you were wearing. Once more, he looked up to you as a silent question of consent, to which you wrapped your fluffy tail around his waist and nodded. He smiled softly as he began to pull both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop with the help of you lifting your hips.
He stood back once more, taking your body in in all of its glory. You took the moment to rake him over as well, noticing he was still fully dressed in contrast to your full nudity. “Chanyeol…” You whined out, getting his attention. A quick flash of worry came over his eyes, moving to hover over you again. “What is it, baby? We don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.”
You wanted to laugh at how soft he was, but you were so hot and bothered that you couldn’t bring yourself to. “You’re still fully dressed.” You said simply, and immediately you saw the worry in his eyes dissipate. He chuckled softly and nodded, standing back up and pulling his shirt over his head. It’s not like you haven’t seen him without a shirt on. You’d actually walked in on him fully naked before on accident. But this was a completely different scenario, and seeing him like this casted a different light on the two of you.
He was now shirtless in front of you, and you took the moment to study every single curve this boy had. He reached down to undo his pants and slide them down his legs, tossing them somewhere with the rest of your clothes, leaving on his boxers alone.
Once more, he climbed on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in another heated kiss, his hands slowly trailing down your body, tracing every single curve you had before finally resting a hand on your mound, cupping it softly.
You sighed out his name, and it pretty much sent him into action. He made avid work kissing every inch of your body until his face came directly in front of your core.
Slowly, he dipped one finger in between your folds, immediately getting drowned by all your juices. He let out a groan. “Damn baby, so wet and I hardly even touched you.” He chuckles, slowly leaning in and giving your clit the tiniest kitten lick, sending your back arching upwards off the bed.
He paused for a moment, studying your reactions. Slowly, he trailed a flat strip up your cunt, making you let out a loud groan. You had never been touched before. Not like this. And Chanyeol could definitely tell.
His tongue went to work on you, lapping languidly at your clip with almost expertise movements. A single finger prodded your entrance, slipping in with ease due to your juices pooling below you, curling upwards as if knowing your body like the back of his hand even though having never touched you before.
“Chanyeol…” You whined out, “Please… I need you…”
He stood back up, leaning over you and kissing you roughly, yet still with care, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste amazing, Kitten.” You giggled softly at the name, considering the irony of it.
Any sort of laughter you had died down when he finally removed his boxers, his cock flinging up and hitting his stomach. He smiled down at you, before leaning over and pulling a condom out of his side table.
After rolling it on, he slowly lined up with your entrance. “It’s okay if it hurts, love. It’ll only be for a moment and then it’ll be over. Just focus on kissing me, ok?” He said softly, his arms around you and his eyes staring into yours.
You nodded softly, and with that, his lips were on yours again. This time around, it was much more sweet and careful, his tongue moving in ways to attempt to distract you when he finally thrusted into you. The stretch stung, but you were so wet that it didn’t hurt at all. In fact, you moaned into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He groaned in pleasure when you took him all the way to the hilt, pussy sucking him in so amazingly. You got adjusted pretty quickly, squeezing your muscles around him to tell him to move.
When he started thrusting, it was slow, feeling every ridge and vein of each other with only love shared between the two of you. His hand reached up to yours and intertwined your fingers, his lips still moving against yours slowly.
You attempted to chase an orgasm in any way, but it probably couldn’t be done at this pace. “Chan… Faster…” You moaned out, and he stilled for a second, letting go of your hand with a quick nod. He sat up slightly, a bit more of an angle for him to reach in between your bodies, trail one hand up your body and wrap around your neck, squeezing softly, before pulling almost fully out and slamming back into you.
“God! Fuck!” You moaned out, your back arching off the bed with each thrust, the next just like the one before it. “That’s it, baby…” He moaned out, moving his hands off your neck in trade for your hips, gripping onto them and somehow thrusting faster than he had before.
You were left a moaning mess with each and every thrust, eyes rolling back into your skull and whatever sanity you had left was twisting into itself in your core, the tightening in your lower stomach giving it’s telltale sign. “Fuck, Chanyeol! I’m gonna cum!” You yelled out.
He only took this chance to move his hand to play with your clit, rolling it in circles. His thrusts began to get sloppy, and you figured that he was going to cum as well.
“Cum with me, Chanyeol…” You said to him, your fucked out tone of voice hitting him deep, the core in the both of you bursting simultaneously. He continued to thrust into you, riding out the both of your orgasms. With a final thrust, he curled foreword, laying on top of you, both of your ragged breaths heating up the air around your sweaty bodies.
You couldn’t say anything, your mind was in the clouds by now, and all you could see was him pulling out of you and walking away, coming back with a pair of shorts on and a warm rag to clean you up.
He laid down next to you and quickly your curled into him, your head nuzzling under his neck.
“Chan?” You said tiredly.
He hummed in response, drawing random shapes on your back with his blunt fingernail.
“I love you.” You said happily, drifting off to sleep. But before you drifted off entirely, you heard the one thing he could say to make your heart full.
“I love you too, ___.”
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nikkalia · 4 years
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Storytime with Auntie Dragon: Betrayal edition
Gather round, children, it’s time once again for “Storytime with Auntie Dragon.” Today’s episode: NYC & Betrayal, a tale of adventure, excitement, and how a certain actor is seemingly easily impressed with modern technology. Hey, it’s pretty snazzy stuff…
We begin our tale at the dawn of November. Your dear Auntie D had just purchased a house, and because closing fell in such a way that I had no housing payment in November, there was some spare cash to be had. A friend of mine who lives in the UK (@mrshiddleston-uk) had been talking about her upcoming trip to the states to see our beloved Mr. Hiddleston in his Broadway debut, and after careful scouring of countless calendars, I decided that the Boychild could miss a day of school to make the trip and decided to go. Another friend ( @silverink-goldenlies) came along for the ride and the trip was set. 
THE TRIP: Bloody hell, why is it every time I drive north, roads are torn up? I mean seriously. I spent more time on the brakes because of construction than I did with the cruise control engaged. For 698 miles! I did not, for those who may be curious, drive up I-95. Oh, the hells to the NO. I have driven that stretch of disaster quite enough to know that it’s a toss-up as to whether you get Hell on earth or a multi-lane, multi-hour parking lot. And that’s just around Richmond. D.C. is worse. Much. Worse. But I digress…
I-78 is (mostly) a beautiful drive. Lots of mountains, rolling hills, farmland, all that. From southern Virginia up through parts of New Jersey, there are lots of farms. LOTS of farms. With cows. And steers. And horses. And even an alpaca - dude had a long neck. Somewhere along the way, every time we passed a farm with cows, @silverink-goldenlies would just blurt out “cows.” In the middle of a conversation, “cows”.  Passing silence for miles and suddenly, “cows.”
And occasionally, “cows. And horses.” The boy child would even chime in now and again. 
THE ARRIVAL: We made it to NYC around sunset. When we were 25 miles or so out, I spied the city skyline and told @silverink-goldenlies to look out the window. Poor thing was so excited I think she almost cried. We took the Lincoln Tunnel into the city because I missed an exit. Which reminds me, Google Maps, get your turn-by-turn shit together. I spent more time on the road than necessary due to a lack of “in 500 feet, turn here.” Waze doesn’t treat me like that. It just crashes. And Waze has Cookie Monster voice. Anyway…Lincoln Tunnel. That was fun, kinda. I kept having flashbacks of Independence Day with the fireball coming up the tunnel following the alien attack. Not cute.  
We emerged in the city and I very quickly learned that upstate NY driving is totally different than NYC driving. I lived in Albany for a couple of years, and in upstate, you can use your signal and mostly expect someone to let you in, or at least get out of the way. Not NYC. Nope nope nope. You signal, insert the front fender of your car and hope the person you’re essentially cutting off is paying attention. It only took one missed turn (thanks Google) for me to learn the ways of the natives and navigate correctly through the city. Which I did successfully. At rush hour. Praise Asphaltia, Goddess of the Road. 
Cows.
NYC: After a night of bullshit sleep thanks to the rock-solid beds of the LaQuinta - Queens, our party was up and in the city by 9:30 am. I’ve always had this mental image of NYC being small because of how tightly packed everything is. My friends, that is absolutely not the case. The city is M A S S I V E in both size and scope. I was totally a tourist, videoing everything in Times Square and looking up like I expected the sky to fall. I learned something I never knew, and never really thought about: they leave the big crystal ball on top of the building after New Year’s. It’s sitting up there, pretty as you please, changing colors all year long. Who knew?
We hit the highlights of Manhattan like my son speed runs through Dark Souls. Times Square, Hard Rock New York, the M&Ms store (3 floors…3 FLOORS of chocolatey goodness), one of two Lego stores, and Rockefeller Plaza. The tree is up, but not on display. I need them to slow down on the trimming it back. There won’t be any tree left, and it’s looking a little scrawny, to begin with. Ice skating was in full effect, but we didn’t go. I knew I had a show and another 10-hour drive back to NC to get through, and doing it on a seriously bruised ass would not have been a good look.
Noon hits and we head back towards the Jacobs theatre. By the time we got there, the box office was open and there was already a line. Thank the gods for online purchases. Easy in, easy out. Around 1 pm, we met up with the lovely @mrshiddleston-uk and attempted to get lunch at some Irish pub. @mrshiddleston-uk briefed us on all things stage door and helped to craft a plan of attack to get the best spots for meeting the cast. The line to get into the theatre was already formed and growing by the time we decided to bail on the never appearing food. 
THE JACOBS THEATRE: This is a gorgeous space. The theatre is on the small side, but I genuinely believe that there isn’t a bad seat in the house. We were in the balcony house left and could see every bit of the stage. Beautiful architecture, comfy seats - if not a little (LOT) short on the legroom - and a pretty chandelier made the place feel cozy and warm. The staff was wonderful as well. I’d totally see another show in this space. 
BETRAYAL: So here’s the part you all came for, right? Right. Cows. To be honest, I’d never heard of Harold Pinter before Tom Hiddleston took the role in the London production, much less read any of his work. I didn’t know what to expect except for what I’d heard from @mrshiddleston-uk after her viewings of the London show. The concept of the show is intriguing enough - following a love triangle in reverse order with a minimalist set and lighting design. I’m a tech nerd anyway, so I was excited to see how well this would work. 
Oh. My. Goddess. This show was AMAZING. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been to a show that totally sucked me in to the point that I was actually invested in the story. Betrayal did just that. From the moment the curtain rose (more on that in a sec) until the stage went black, I was sucked into the world of Robert and Emma and Jerry and how the affair went from disintegration to conception. I have absolutely no sympathy for any of these characters at the end of the day. They are all seriously flawed and have caused themselves the pain that they experience in this story. But, that’s what makes good drama, right?
The sheer lack of set made it easier to pay attention to the actors and the script, which is a huge perk in this game of verbal tennis. The characters go from normal speech patterns to the famed Pinter pauses to this back and forth without missing a beat (or a syllable) that will make your head spin. The boychild told me later he found it a little hard to follow, which is understandable if you’re not used to hearing it in an English accent. 
There was a lot of play with light and shadow in this show. It’s no secret that all three actors are on stage for the duration of the play, with the “odd man out” lurking somewhere in the shadows. It was thrilling to see, to be honest, because you catch yourself looking around to see what the odd man is doing while the two in focus characters are speaking. Robert standing against the back wall facing the wings; Emma curled up on the floor eating an apple; Jerry sitting off the side with his back against the back wall. All making little gestures or motions that hint at what that character is experiencing in that moment in time. 
Even the shadows themselves told a part of the story. The sharper focused shadows cast by Robert and Emma when she confesses the affair created a tension that doesn’t exist when Robert is lurking in the background of scenes involving Jerry and Emma or Emma hiding almost when Robert and Jerry are in the forefront. I found myself watching the shadows in this scene more than the actors themselves. It’s that intense. 
One other tech geek note: the back wall moved. Now, I’ve seen plenty of moving sets. Hells, I’ve moved a few in my time. But this simple change had a tremendous impact. When the wall moved forward, it cuts the surface area of the stage down to 1/8th of what it was at the beginning. It puts the confession right in your face. You can’t get away from it, just as the characters can’t. There’s nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. They, and you, just have to deal with it. Absolutely brilliant on the part of the designers. Enough about the sets, or lack thereof. Cows. I could go on all day. 
THE CAST: We’ll start with Zawe Ashton. She’s a perfectly lovely woman, all smiles and bubbly at the stage door, very sweet. I don’t know that I like her as an actress. Or maybe I don’t like her character, Emma. I haven’t really decided yet. But, if there was a downside to this show, she was it. Her laughter was fake to the point of cringy, and there was something noticeably self-absorbed about her on stage. The other thing I noticed is that she was never standing or sitting straight. She was always twisted, curled up, or otherwise contorted in some fashion, and that gave me a twitch. An acting choice? Maybe. It would stand to reason that this was some subconscious outward expression of Emma’s mental/emotional state. She struck me as whiny, and maybe a little “woe is me” to boot. My thought throughout the play was, bitch, you got yourself into this. Suck it up.
Charlie Cox as Jerry. Great guy at stage door, seemed to be enjoying the fans. Again, I haven’t read the play so I’m not 100% on what Jerry is supposed to be, but Charlie was giving some serious lovesick puppy vibes for this show. And that’s all I got from him. Maybe bits of remorse here and there, but not much. Some great comedic moments, but otherwise, he really didn’t stand out for me. 
Tom Hiddleston as Robert. We’ll discuss stage door in a minute. I’ve worked in the arts and journalism long enough to know that you often hear about how someone “is” but that’s not really who they really are. They pretend to have a presence that doesn’t exist, or they’re not as talented as they, or their agent, would have you believe. And sometimes that “wonderful” actor is really just a prick in real life. Children, I am here to tell you that Thomas William Hiddleston is EVERYTHING he’d cracked up to be.  
When the curtain goes up at the show open, Robert is sitting in a chair, and all you see of him is legs. The man has legs for days…digressing again. Cows. Tom has such a presence that you know exactly where he is. When Charlie and Zawe are sharing their scenes, your eyes can dart straight to Tom. I remember actively looking for Charlie and Emma in scenes they weren’t involved in, just to see what they were doing. Never, ever had to do that with Tom. He was always there, always on the edge of the shadows. 
His performance as Robert is an emotional roller coaster. I watched him run the gamut and back again several times over the course of 90 minutes, and really wonder how the hells he does it every day (and has been since June). No wonder he looks exhausted. He was giving that trademarked smile in some scenes, growling with anger in others (your Loki is showing), and on the verge of tears in still others. I looked down at him during the confession scene and his eyes were brimming, reflecting the bright white light that was shining on him. That one hurt my heart.  Dude can do anything, and I need someone to give him more meaty roles on film. And for the love of the Gods, cast him in a romcom, comedy, something! He’s proven time and again he can act - let him have something besides Loki. 
Disclaimer: I love Loki, don’t get me wrong, but I hate to see talented performers pigeonholed into one role. Tom is so much better than that, as most of them are. 
STAGE DOOR: The show ends, the lights come up, and I can’t get the damn Hard Rock Cafe bag out from between the seats. So this is how it’s gonna go down, eh? WRONG. ANSWER. I get downstairs in record time only to be blocked by old people who can’t decide if they need to pee or not, then distracted by Tom speaking on stage about the fundraiser the theatre is doing. That voice, those long assed legs, and holy hells is the end of the stage right fucking there??? 
FOCUS WOMAN! Cows. Eldery folks having determined that yes, in fact, a stop by the loo is in order, I’m out the door, still struggling with the bag and my coat and not being run over by those who are sprinting to the barricades set up to queue for stage door.  Sprinting. Really? It’s like, 300, 400 feet maybe, from the entrance to the stage door. I wanna have 0.5 seconds in front of Tom too, but damn y’all. It ain’t that serious. 
Secure in our spot upfront and personal by the lovely @mrshiddleston-uk, I got myself squared away and place the Facebook group chat video call. We all agreed that since @firithariel, @igotloki, and @mischeviousbellarina couldn’t be there in person, we’d bring them along digitally. For once, my phone behaved. Did I remember to put them on speaker? That would be a no. 
So, Zawe comes out first, signs programs and chats with fans. She really is adorable. Charlie comes out next and follows the same route, and then the man of the hour (and really the whole point of this trip) emerges in the “uniform”, looking a little frazzled. But, he makes the rounds of autographs, even going so far as to sign a Thanos Funko. 
Really? REALLY? Thanos? How you gonna do my boy wrong like that? Grrrr….. Amusing thing was that Tom really didn’t even acknowledge it, but he looked annoyed by it. 
That’s when Tom got to our merry little band. @silverink-goldenlies showed him the tattoo done by her husband of a Loki helmet with runes surrounded by flowers. He seemed thoroughly impressed with it. I’m next, with our video chat going strong. I asked him to say hi to the girls, and he got a weird look on his face until he saw the phone. He did a double-take, “There are four people on the screen! How did you do that?” We told him about Facebook group chat and where the girls were located. There’s a video floating around Instagram/Twitter of his reaction. It’s entirely too cute. He leaned in and smiled, said hi to them, showed them an autographed program, and handed them to me. He looked me right in the eye for about a second and a half then moved on. I can still see it in my mind, and it makes me smile every time. 
Tom finished the autographs and came back around for selfies. Mine is blurry AF, because of course, it is. It’s the only one I have of him. Maybe I’ll try to fix it in Photoshop. A fucking photographer can’t take a damned selfie. SMH Oh well, you can tell it’s him. @mrshiddleston-uk got some great shots, and I’ll always know I was there, that we spoke, however briefly. 
I’ll spare you the details of the trip home because, well…traffic. And cows. 
And so ends the tale of the very long too short awesome weekend in NYC where I got to meet Tom Hiddleston. 
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years
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5,000 question survey series part--forty-three
4101. What is the most difficult thing you have ever overcome? One is all the surgeries I had as a kid that required spending months in the hospital. It was just a very difficult, frustrating time.  4102. What is more imporatnt, how much someone has achieved or how far they have come to achieve it? Uh, I don’t know if either one is more important than the other. Someone who has achieved anything they’re proud of is something to applaud, whether it’s one thing or many things. I think someone who has had to work hard and came a long way is commendable, but I’m not gonna knock someone who maybe didn’t have to work as hard to achieve something either. I want people to succeed and as long as they’re doing something shady to achieve it, then I’m rooting for you.  4103. Have you ever had anything published? No. I’ve never attempted to have something published either.
4104. Of the following, what kind of person would you be more attracted to (1 is highest, 3 lowest): I don’t look for that in a guy, like I don’t compare them to myself in that way. Besides, I don’t think I’m attractive so I would always think they were more attractive than me. less good looking than you? about as good looking as you? more good looking than you? how goodlooking are you? I’m not. 4105. less inteligent than you? about as intelligent as you? more intelligent than you? I mean, I think it would be nice to be with someone I thought I was intelligent and I could a lot from. It could also be intimidating, though. I wouldn’t want to feel dumb or like I couldn’t contribute anything to the conversation. As long as they weren’t arrogant or cocky about it or put people down for not knowing something. how intelligent are you? Meh. I just feel average. 4106. has less money than you? has about as much money as you? has more money than you? I don’t care about their money. Like, we both could contribute and take care of each other. And if they did have more money than me, I wouldn’t expect them to be the sole provider. I would still contribute what I could. How wealthy are you? I’m not. I’m fortunate that I still live at home and my parents still provide a lot for me financially, but I do contribute what I can towards bills (a couple household bills and my own bills) and whatnot.  4107. less wild and crazy than you? about as wild and crazy as you? more wild and crazy than you? I’m not wild and/or crazy, ha so I couldn’t handle someone who was. I mean, I could handle some, like a little spontaneity and adventure. Someone like, “Hey, let’s take a drive up to the beach or mountains this weekend!” Something along those lines haha nothing too crazy. I’m really gonna need a guy who is down to chill at home and binge watch shows and movies with me, play board games, get takeout, and just take it easy a lot. Not to say we never go anywhere or do anything, but I couldn’t be with someone who always had to be doing something ya know? I don’t have the energy for that and due to health reasons I rest a lot. How wild and crazy are you? I’m not. I’m tame and lame, ha. 4108. Is your bathroom shelf stacked with numorous bottles of lotions and creams? Our bathroom pantry has a lot of that stuff, as well as the cupboard space under the sink. There’s some stuff on the counter, too. 4109. How do you maintain your body? Uhh, I’m thin but I’m not in shape or fit. I’ve always been thin and had a fast metabolism, but for the past few years I’ve been too thin/underweight due to health reasons and appetite issues. 4110. Did you ever imagine that objects have a life of their own? Yeah, ha. I kept stuffed animals and stuff from my childhood because I would feel bad getting rid of them. As though they had feelings or something. I have a hard time getting rid of anything. 4111. What is it like to be an object, do ya think? It could suck cause they’re just being used by people until they’re not useful anymore, or it could feel loved and important if used often. Or it could be like some things I have that are just sitting on a shelf collecting dust and feeling sad. :X  lol. 4112. Do stones, rocks, trees, lamps, water, couches, etc all have some sort of life energy running through them? Yeah. 4113. Would you ever consider getting romantically involved with: your teacher? I’m done with school, but no I never would have considered being involved with any of my teachers, then or now. your doctor? Nope.  4114. If ____ asked me for sex, I could NOT refuse. Fill in the blank as if you were speaking. I would refuse everyone at this time. 4115. What is 'nothing'? Absence of something? 4116. Would you rather read about how to get better abs or about how thousands of people across the globe are marching for peace? About how thousands of people across the globe are marching for peace. 4117. Should america make love, not war? Of course that would be nice. 4118. If you could nominate anyone for sainthood, who ould you and why? I have no idea. 4119. Can you name one person who is purely good? Jesus. 4120. How about one person who is completely evil? Satan. 4121. Is there a book inside of you? Uhhh. If yes, what about? 4122. Do you call people more often or get calls more often? Calls more often out of the two, but it’s not a lot. 4123. What do you wake up to? Usually just on my own. 4124. If you could get a free subscription to any magazine what would it be? I wouldn’t. I haven’t read a magazine in several years. 4125. When you wrote letters to santa did you ever ask for stuff that didn't exist? No.  4126. Make up a new slogan for McDonald's: Nah. 4127. What kind of people do you like to be associated with (buisness, writers, dark, antisocial, spiritual, happy)? Chill people that I just vibe with and relate to. 4128. How are you like a toaster? I let stuff build up until pop! 4129. Do you believe we are really in the matrix? Nah, man. 4130. There are 2 dolls, a gw Bush doll and a Sadam Hussein doll. You can only afford one. Which do you buy? I’d have no reason to want either one. 4131. What is a jaberwocky? The dragon from Alice Through the Looking Glass.  4132. Finish the sentances: Nah.
I'm speed racer and I drive real fast, I drive real fast: I'm a big bird and I like to steal, I like to steal and I like to: I'm a barbie doll and I've got grace, I've got grace but: 4133. What do you think aliens would think of life on earth? Probably nothing good. 4134. What image do you get fom the words 'urban decay'? Well, I think of the makeup brand. 4135. Have a ___ day. Fill in the blank with anything but 'nice' Have a chill day. 4136. Do you own anything with a: southpark character or logo on it? No. greatful dead bear or logo on it? No. 4137. What is your impression of beatniks? I don’t know what that is. 4138. What was the last thing you ordered (or watched) on pay-per-view? I have no idea... that would have been ages ago. 4139. Nails, long or short? My nails are barely even there. :X 4140. Do you prefer touch lamps, the clapper, or the old-fashioned light switch? Ha, I think it’d be neat to have the clapper. I could set up the Alexa and get the electronics that are compatible with it and have the same thing.  4141. Can you 'berry talk'? What? 4142. Do you like vines on old buildings? Sure. How about grafitti on old buildings? Murals are really cool. 4143. When someone says 'it's been one of tose days' what do they mean by 'those days'? A shitty day. 4144. Have you ever owned those magic markers that could change colors? Yeah. 4145. It's not easy bein' ____. Fill in the blank as if you were speaking. Me. 4146. Is there a song that has been stuck in your head since you were a child? Wow, no not that long. It can be annoying having a song stuck in my head for a few days, I couldn’t imagine having a song stuck in my head since childhood. I mean, I sometimes have songs from my childhood stuck in my head, but that’s obviously different. 4147. Do you own anything plaid? I have a plaid throw pillow and a plaid pair of leggings. 4148. Do you recycle? Plastic bottles and cans. 4149. What is your strongest point? I don’t feel I have one. :/ 4150. What is your weakest point? I have a lot of those.
What are you doing to work on that weakness? I’m not, that’s the problem. 4151. Paraphrase (rewrite) this sentance without using any of the words currently in it that are more than 2 letters long (except THE you can use THE). If anyone should steal this survey from you they should paraphrase YOUR sentance and so on: “Deep in the heart of turn of the century India a young mongoose is adopted by a british family.” Long ago a European family took in a baby animal in a foreign country. Ha, I don’t know.
4152. A baby is born witha terminal disese. She will suffer agonizing pain for 5 years and then die. The mother gives the baby a sleeping medicine and it dies. Mom claims it was a mercy killing. Prosecution claims it was murder. You are on the jury. What is your vote? Jeez, I can’t with these questions. 4153. Why doesn't poetry say outright what it means? Cause that’s boring. 4154. Read this sentance: “I can’t wait until summer is over.”
Now delete it.
Done?
Now write any sentance you want there instead. 4155. What is your opinion of Orson Welles? I don’t know who that is.  4156. If you were a lotion, what would your label say? I don’t know. 4157. What side id your good side? I don’t have one. 4158. Rewrite that sentance you deleted up there as best you can. Try to get the idea across even if you don't get the exact words right: Impatiently waiting for this season to end. 4159. What is your favorite work by Edgar Allen Poe? A Tell-Tale Heart and The Raven. 4160. Of the following short stories which would you be most likly to read (based on titles alone if you aren't familiar with them, 1 is most likely 9 is least likely)?? Just gonna bold which ones I might read instead. Young Goodman Brown The Cask of Amontillado The Story of an Hour The Metemorphasis Barn Burning The Lottery <<< I’ve read this one. A & P The Sandkings Minority Report 4161. What is the differance between a norm and a value? Values are more general and abstract.  4162. Can you think of a norm in your own culture that is different from a value in your culture? Cancel culture has become the norm it seems, which differs from values in society like compassion, forgiveness, understanding, empathy.   4163. Who is your favorite star wars character? My squad: The Child (baby Yoda), C3PO, Chewbacca, Yoda, and R2D2. 4164. Why haven't we begun to colonize the moon? Because it’s not inhabitable. 4165. What did you think of the shuttle columbia blowing up? That was absolutely horrific and devastating. Ugh. I feel horrible for those who lost their lives and for the people who witnessed it, especially their loved ones. 4166. What do you remember about the challenger? That happened before I was born, I just learned about it when I was older.  4167. Is the force with you? Yep. May the force with be you, too. 4168. What is your favorite spoof movie? The Scary Movie series. 4169. Would you ever own a(n): human slave? Wtf, NO.
robotic slave (where the robot is consiouss of itself)? I don’t want any type of slave.  trained ape slave? Nooooooo. human clone slave? Nooooooo. 4170. What can no one stop you from doing? Surveys, ha. 4171. Who would you be bored without? My family, which includes my doggo.  4172. What is your only hope? God. 4173. Would you rather visit france or puerto rico and why? Hmm. I’d be down for either one. 4174. Have you ever corrupted someone or dragged them down? No. 4175. If you could say/teach one thing to all the youth of america what would it be? Respect. 4176. Does any part of your body get in yyour way? No. 4177. Leia or Amidala? Gotta go with my girl, Princess Leia/General Organa. 4178. Do you trust your feelings? Usually. Sometimes I think I’m being paranoid and ridiculous, but also I think I’m just being real and logical even if it does seem negative and pessimistic at times. I want to be safe than sorry, ya know. But there are definitely times where I am wrong. 4179. Do you feel empty or passionate most of the time? Empty. :/ I don’t have a passion and that really worries me. I want that. 4180. What was your monet of triumph? Ha, I thought “monet of triumph” was a phrase I wasn’t familiar with, but upon Googling I think it’s just a typo. It sounds cool, though. Anyway, my moment of triumph... I mean, not to get dark but being a victim of gun violence at 7 months old and surviving is pretty major. I can’t think of anything else. 4181. Explain what piety is: Being religious, I think. 4182. In what ways are you a rebel? “I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.”  4183. In what ways are you a conformist? Uhh. I follow the rules? 4184. Do you likie movie endings that leave you wondering or tie upp all the loose ends? If there’s going to be another movie in the series then I’m for a cliff hanger, it’s exciting. Even though I am super impatient. Otherwise, I typically don’t like when movies just abruptly end and I have to try and figure out what happened. Like, I need answers. 4185. What movie has the best soundtrack? Hmm. 4186. What adventure would you liike to undertake? I don’t know. If we’re ever able to travel again safely, I’d love to do so. I need a fun vacation. 4187. Do you tip gas station attendants when you get full service? We gotta pump our own gas where I’m from. 4188. Do you own any souvineers; what from where? I own a lot of souvenirs from various places.  4189. Does your age make you embaressed? Not the age itself, I just feel embarrassed about where I’m at in life at 31 years old.   4190. Are you the strong and silent type? I’m not strong, but I’m silent.  4191. What doo your shoes look like? Which ones, I have several pairs. 4192. Do you ever admire yourself while naked? Ew, absolutely not. I hate my body, I’m extremely self-conscious. I don’t feel comfortable at all naked. Like literally, as soon I’m done showering I’m throwing clothes back on. 4193. If you could make someone's clothes magically disappear who would you do it to and where? Uh, I wouldn’t do that to anyone.  4194. Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool that follows the first fool? They’re all foolish. 4195. A good website for the bored (not a diary one): YouTube. 4196. Did people REALLY land on the moon? Yes. 4197. Would you rather live for a month in India or Alaska? Hmm. Maybe Alaska.  4198. What is one country you ould NEVER visit and why? I don’t know. 4199. Who is the busiest person you can think of? My mom. 4200. What is the average length of your relationships? Ha, what relationships.
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lovetvshowsposts · 5 years
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A Variro Story CH 1
Description: Varian (Tangled the Series) is a transfer from Germany and new to San Fransokyo and the Institute of Technology and the second 14-year-old to be inducted in the school.  He tries to keep things under control, so people won’t find out his secret.  Hiro can handle being a student and hero but now with these unknown feelings and them being toward the new guy he doesn’t quite know what to do. (I swear the story is better than the description) AU (Hiro X Varian=Variro)
This story is based off of Tumblr user @sinningcookie ship of Hiro and Varian (Variro).  Be sure to check out the art that has been done of these two it’s amazing.  If I was good at drawing, I would have made a Variro comic but here is the story of how the two meet, become boyfriends and each other’s heroes.  Complete AU from both of the series but they are represented in ways throughout this story.  
<> 
Beep beep! Beep beep!
Eyes open slowly at the sound of an annoying noise as it continues to sound.  Until they land upon the source.  The clock says 7:45AM making the eyes shoot right open.  “Ah no, I’m going to be late!!”  shouts Hiro as he jumps out of bed grabbing papers and cloths as he looks for his backpack.  He finds it hanging on his chair and starts to stuff everything into it, which makes the chair roll right onto his foot. “Ow!” He hops backwards to his bed holding his foot.
The beeping from the other side of the room drew his attention.  Baymax opens his eyes to see all of Hiro’s room and the state he was in. He steps out of his charging port and goes to Hiro.  “Hiro on a scale of one to ten how would you rate your pain?”  he proceeds to show the chart on his chest.
“I don’t have time Baymax, I’m late!!  Hiro quickly gets up and starts to get dressed.  “Why didn’t you wake me up, anyway? The emergency alarm had to wake me.”
“The average amount of sleep the human body needs is eight hours.  You went to bed at two AM by my calculations you need another two hours to function properly.”
“I know Baymax, but I have papers, projects and classes that need to be done.” Hiro argues as he finishes tying his shoe, he gets up and sprints for the stairs.  As he was about to leave, Hiro remembers to grab his bag and Baymax in tow.
<> 
The Lucky Cat Café was as busy as usual for a Monday morning.  All the tables were packed as Aunt Cass tries to cut time by loading up a tray full of coffees and pastries.  She walks past the doorway that leads to their upstairs living quarters.
Hiro comes out of nowhere, yelling “Bye Aunt Cass.  Sorry no hugs, I’m late.”  Running right by his aunt who is able to dodge him, but once Baymax bumps into her she begins to fall, just taking the tray with her, until a helpful hand saves the both of them.
“Woah that would have been a disaster.  Are you ok?” a feminine voiced stranger says as she helps pick up the tray and Aunt Cass.
“Yeah I’m fine but when you have a nephew; somethings can go crazy.  Ah thank you…”  Aunt Cass looks to the young lady that was in front of her as she is helped up.  She wore black boots that led to grey skinny jeans.  They were held with a brown belt with the most peculiar belt buckle; a circle with three lines on it.  As she is still being lifted Cass see a maroon shirt that was tucked in and a black leather jacket covering the rest of the stranger.  Cass’s finally helped all the way up get the reveal of the stranger’s face seeing pale skin, dark pink lips, hazel eyes and raven hair that is in a bob-cut of layers with grey highlights.  Which Aunt Cass thought had to be the girl’s choice of dying it because the stranger seems to be the age of 23.  And that much grey hair on her did not seem natural.  
The stranger finally offers her name.  “Cassandra, and I kind of am going to be going through the same thing as I watch my friends’ kid.”  Cassandra fully gives control to the tray back to Aunt Cass, as she walks to drop off coffee and pastries at tables.  
“Ah, are you new here?  I haven’t seen you around.”  Cass asks as Cassandra follows her.
“No, I’ve lived here for a while and have heard about your place.  But I’m just not really a coffee person.”
Cass asks bewildered “Then what brings you in?” as she sets the last pastry down.
“You evidently have a tea other places don’t carry that helps my friend’s kid calm down. With it being his first day at a new school, he’s a bit nerves so…” Cassandra was cut off by a long car honk that came from outside.
“Speak of the devil.  That’s him now, can I get a large?”
“Say no more; I’m on it.”  Aunt Cass proceeds to make the tea as quickly as she could.
<> 
“Alright, Baymax, I’ll be back after classes.  The others might drop by throughout the day.  See ya!! Hiro says as he closes the door to Tadashi’s lab and runs to Professor Granville’s class.  He makes it through the door before he could be marked late.
“You; barley made it, Mr. Hamada.  Note; being punctual will help you be able to keep a job in the future, even if you are working for yourself.”  Professor Granville states as she pulls her lecture up on to the screen.
Hiro lets out a relived breath as he walks to his seat.  He pulls out his notebook and pencil for the lecture.  The class was going normally until almost the end of class.  There was a knock at the classroom door.  Everyone looks to Professor Granville.  She looks to the door window.
“Ah yes, come on in Mr. Müller.”  The whole class had their eyes on the door as it slowly opens.  A young boy walks to Professor Granville.  Hiro too, stares as the guy walks by.  Noting of what he could see, the student wore many layers of baggy clothes all consisting of teal and black.
A teal beanie sat on his shaggy black hair.  His bangs covered a majority of his face.  But one strand stood out because it was blue.  He held a few notebooks in one hand against his chest and a plastic cup in the other.  Hiro took a closer look to see the logo.  It was from the Lucky Cat Café.  Hiro’s scrutinizing gaze was broken when Granville spoke; “Now class, I don’t normally introduce new students, but this is Varian Müller a 14-year-old transfer from Germany.  As you can see, he doesn’t quite know campus so if one of you could show him around?” She looks around the room to see if anyone will volunteer.  Instead of volunteering everyone starts whispering.
Hiro looks around making out some of the whispering conversations that were: “He’s young.” “Is his look a fashion statement?” “Why did he transfer?”  “What’s his major.”  He then looks back to Varian to sees the guy was shrinking in on himself and the cups contents he was holdings was swishing around a bit.  Hiro noted probably from being nervous.
Just as Professor Granville was about to speak a happy go lucky “I’ll do it!” came from Hiro’s right. He looked over to see Karmi the 18-year-old bio-tech prodigy.  She was all to giddy to be the guide this new kid. No doubt to find out what he studies, or he must be new competition for her.  Hiro thought as he watches her head to the front of the room.
“Thank you Karmi. Alright class that is all for today’s lesson don’t forget to do pages nine though thirteen of your textbooks.” Granville states as class is dismissed.
<> 
“Argh; finally; the hard part of my day is over!!”  Hiro reports as he enters the lab hands full of his textbooks and new project parts.  He sets them down on the closest table knocking some other papers and blueprints over to the already messy floor.  He wipes his forehead with his jacket sleeve as he looks around the room seeing Fred laying upside down on a chair reading a comic as Baymaxs watches.  
All of a sudden Fred pops up saying “Hey!  What about this; could a person survive a blast of magma from there hands?” asks Fred excitedly.  
“The probability of magma emanating from a person’s hands is nonexistent they would suffer from third degree burns from the surrounding tissue and…”
Baymax was cut off when Wasabi, Honey Lemon and Gogo all barged into the lab. “Did you hear about the new guy!” Squeals Honey Lemon. “I heard he was too smart for his old school so that why he’s here.”
“Yeah this kid’s got a so many awards he’s probably going to win all the ones here.” Wasabi chimes in.”
“I heard he is an alien from the planet Malgo an here to suck out our brains!”  Fred says enthusiastically as he walks over to Gogo trying to scary her.
“No.” Voices Gogo as she stops him from getting closer by putting her hand on his chest.
“Freddy were you feeling left out because you don’t know what we’re talking about?” implies Honey Lemon.
“Yes; No; Maybe?” Fred shrinks down after each word knowing his guess were way off.  Which made everyone silent until Gogo announces “I just heard he was from Germany.”
“Wait you guys are talking about the transfer uh Varian…uh…Varian Miller.”  
“It’s pronounced Mueller since he’s from Germany Hiro.”  Politely corrects Honey Lemon.
“Whatever he’s Karmi’s new competition so I don’t care what his name is.” Hiro starts to dig through a box of parts to get started on a project.
“Oh, so you didn’t hear?” States Gogo as she crosses her arms.
“Hear what?” Hiro looks to his friends in confusion while he was still digging.  Fred shrugs because he is just as much in the dark as he is.
“Karmi released a whole report about this kid.  Its on the schools blog.”  Wasabi pulls out his phone and shows Hiro.  The screen shows a quick snapshot of the kid trying to block the camera with his fingerless gloved hands.  With the title New Prodigy Hits Campus!  Before he could read anymore Wasabi took it away saying.  “It says the kid went to Berlin’s Institute of Technology our number one competitor.  He’s won all sorts of awards.  Until a mysteries accident caused half the school to be decommissioned.  He’s now here to continue his studies.”
“Did he actually tell Karmi this?”  Hiro asks as he pulls out the tool he was looking for.
“I don’t think so. I saw Karmi in the library on the computer.” Gogo says as she blows a bubble from her gum.  Hiro walks over to some parts that he has on a table and starts his project.
“What I’m shocked is he’s majoring in Chemical Engineering and Robotics.  Two majors is suicide at this school!”
As soon as the word Robotics left Honey Lemons mouth, he froze.  “What is he majoring?”
She repeats herself “Chemical Engineering and Robotics.”
“Ha looks like you finally have some competition man.”  Fred blurts out.  They all start to continue to talk about the new guy which seems to just fade to a hum to Hiro as things were swimming around his mind.  He puts his tools down and walks to the door.  “I’m going to go get some gummy bears I’ll be right back.”  If his face gave away sign of irritation his friends didn’t see it as they said see ya and went back to their conversation.  But Baymax knew and he follows Hiro.
“Hiro my scans indicate that you are slightly irritated.  What is irritating you?”  Baymax asks.
“Nothing buddy just got a lot on my mind.”  He says subdued until he states, “But not as much as that new guy I bet he won’t be able to last a week handling such difficult classes.”  Brightening his spirits as he walks to the vending machine.
Two Weeks Later…
“Man did you hear Varian made a…”
“That kid is smarter than anyone here.”
“Varian just combined a …”
“Varian”
“Varian”
“Varian”
“Aaaaaa” Shouts Hiro as he slams his head on the table. “Make it stop!” he muffles.
“Hey, did you hear…” Fred asks till he is cut off by Hiro.
“YES, I heard he made a unstoppable robot, he is smarter than anyone else here, I even heard that he is the cutest one here.  And I’m here to say; I have had enough.  I’m going to challenge him to show this nerd school who is the true prodigy of SFIT!”  Hiro stomps out of the lab Baymax following behind him.
“I was just going to say they had free tacos at the cafeteria.”  Fred announces to an empty lab as he takes a bite out of one of his tacos.
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