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lemonluvgirl · 2 years

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Anything

Based on the prompt: could you write a oneshot role reversal where Katniss is kidnapped in the Capitol and this is the everlark reunion scene?

In my opinion its not a real reunion between lovers unless they are both gettting naked! But I can’t just make it a Porn without Plot fic, so...Ok so, here’s the deal. Peeta went on the mission to free the captured victors in the Capitol and took his helmet off when he found Katniss in her cell. She then proceeded to strangle the shit out of him, because she was hijaked, but Boggs stopped her from killing Peeta and they all made it back to District 13. This ‘real’ reunion happens after moths of therapy and everlark fighting their way back through the hijacking.

I find myself staring at him.

Peeta’s full, plush looking lips are tinted a dark pink. I'm perversely proud of how swollen they look from my furious onslaught of kisses. I smile at him, just barely for a second and he gives me a heated but tender look. I flick my gaze away. Those mesmerizing lips of his quirk up at the corners, then he lowers his head past my mouth, skimming down my jaw. His lips are soft and reverent when he uses them to trace the column of my neck.

Gently, feather soft kisses descend on my skin and ignite like live wires sparking and crackling with increasing intensity. Then, his hands, wonderfully callused from all that training, mirror the position of my own, tracing up and down my body. He feels strong and hard under my fingertips. I feel like I could touch him forever and forget about everything else in existence.

There are a million unsaid words he exhales against my skin with each ragged breath he draws across the pulse point in my neck. I wonder how he manages to say so much with just the slight pressure of his hands or his lips?

It's intoxicating and…different. I wonder why his lips feel so different from anyone else's.

More importantly, how can he still want to do this after everything I've done to him? After everything that’s been done to me?

I draw back just enough to look at his expression. I'm startled to find his blue eyes openly staring into me, unguarded and suffused with longing and adoration.

That look makes my breath hitch and my blood sing.

I'm so impatient to have him naked and panting over me, under me, in every way imaginable, that it's unbelievable.

But then of course, I'm certifiable now.

I wonder if he's slightly mad too, or maybe he's just too naive to know when to quit.

He stares back at me, letting me drink my fill of him with my eyes. And slowly, like peeling back layer after layer of false impressions and shiny memories I uncover the truth in his gaze.

He's not insane. Or stupid.

The distress of opening himself up like this again is evident in the crease of his brow, the uncertain tilt of his mouth, the tension in his hands as they shake just slightly while continuing to caress me.

There's an impossibly deep look in his eyes, like a promise or a vow known only to himself. I wonder if he thinks that by coming back again and again he will somehow make up for leaving me to rot in the Capitol for so long.

But the quiet pant of his breath and the wide sincerity in his eyes doesn't speak predominantly of guilt.

He's got that look that Finnick gets when he looks at Annie.

That wonderfully grateful look that silently screams of devotion.

It makes me uncomfortable.

But before I can shift away from him, his lips are back on my neck, and he's breathing soft words into my skin.

"I'm yours,"

"Body and soul."

"Whatever you want, only if you want."

"Anything for you, Katniss."

Even though his lips barely move and his voice is so light I have to strain to catch what he's saying, I hear him just the same. It's not quite an apology, (which is good because I don’t want one) it’s more an overture. Which I can handle infinitely better than a tear soaked 'sorry', and if for only that reason I find myself relaxing into him a little more.

I'm glad, infinitely glad, that he doesn't try to tell me I'm sexy or beautiful, or something like that. Those words would have made me gag after all the times I'd heard them repeated to me in the Capitol.

And he doesn't try to touch my breasts or my ass right away, either.

He just keeps kissing along my collarbone and murmuring how he'll follow my lead.

And it's the best offer I've gotten in a long time. My core throbs, achy and enticed with the idea of a partner eager to give instead of take from me.

Was he always this generous in bed? Or did he only become such an attentive lover in response to what he thought I needed after all I had been through?

I pushed the questions out of my mind and focused on the only thought that mattered.

This is what I wanted right now.

He is what I need.

I don’t need to psychoanalyze his motivations. I just need him to show me why this strange connection we share hasn’t been severed, by time, distance, or even the mad science of the Capitol.

It's with that knowledge that I pull his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, slipping my hands inside and ghosting my fingers over his skin.

He shudders above me. I watch as his thickly muscled arms tremble as they work to keep his body hovering over mine. I know it's not fatigue that's affecting him, but my touch. I pry his shirt off of him and toss it somewhere on the floor. He doesn't blink when I do, but his pupils dilate even further, the pretty blue of his eyes slowly being swallowed up by the black.

It's an effervescent feeling that rises up inside of me, when I realize how much I affect him. I want to revel in it at first and touch every inch of him slowly. But I don't know if it's wise to draw this out. Who knows how long this clarity of need will last?

What I do know is I want to feel the weight of his body over mine. I want it to settle into my bones and I want to taste the moans off his tongue when he slips inside me.

I want to watch his blue eyes grow dark with lust and then roll to the back of his head when he floods me with his warmth.

I want everything he is offering and then some. Because the hazy memories I have aren’t enough.

"Take off my clothes Peeta." I command, in a stern voice. It might sound laughable to someone else, the bossy tone in my voice even though I’m on bottom. But it’s not really a laughing matter for either of us. We will be equals in this no matter who’s physically taking the lead. I can see it in his eyes and I feel it in the way he holds me.

But I must still catch him a little off guard with my boldness.

Peeta’s eyes widen slightly in response and he searches my face for only a moment before he finds the certainty he's looking for.

Then, as if someone has thrown a switch, he's different.

His hands are steady and efficient as they unzip the front of my jumpsuit. He doesn't fumble when he reaches behind me and unclips my bra.

Neither does he hesitate when he unbuttons my pants and drags my underwear down at the same time.

And he doesn't break eye contact with me the entire time. Waiting for me to make the next move.

I love it. His confidence, his patience, the practiced way he undresses me. He’s quick and efficient but not possessive or disrespectful. It’s hot, and I can admit that to myself before I attack him with my mouth again.

I latch onto the spot below his ear, and swirl my tongue in light circles in between kisses before I begin to suck on his slightly salty skin. It's all I can do to not bite down hard, when I inhale the scent and taste that feels so familiar and delicious.

Peeta's breath hitches and he mumbles something incoherent against my hair that sounds like 'I've missed you so much.' Since he seems to be speaking more to himself than me I don't let it phase me. I can do without the emotional declarations. So I kiss him again on the mouth to stop anymore from leaking out.

If he's put off by my one track mind he doesn't show it. He kisses me back with a fervor and passion that makes heat spread through me like colored ink bleeding onto a page.

It's only when my teeth scrape against the large artery in his neck that he reacts adversely for the first time. He stiffens up, as a tremor of fear runs through him. Because of course, even though the bruises have faded, and even though he’s already hard as steel against my thigh, he no doubt remembers the last time I paid so much attention to his neck.

Right before I strangled him.

“Are you scared of me Peeta?” I ask him out of morbid curiosity, between breaths as I continue to lavish his neck with my mouth, albeit slightly more gently and without the scrape of my teeth.

He automatically starts to shake his head, but pauses mid shake.

“A little,” He admits in a breathless voice.

“Hummm,” I murmur vaguely in reply, giving him no assurances or warnings either way. He’s bigger than me, stronger too. But I’ve been training the same as him. Harder and more frequently too, since he spends more time filming propos than practicing his hand to hand combat.

“If you're going to try to kill me, I think I’ll be ready this time.” He adds, as he threads his fingers through the hair at the base of my neck and tugs just a little. I clench my thighs and bite my own tongue to stifle the moan that threatens to slip out and slowly cast my gaze upward until I meet his eyes.

He looks as serious as he sounds. It’s a promise that while he is more than happy to keep getting naked with me, he’s also on alert.

I grin lazily up at him, while deliberately brushing my leg back and forth over his erection, delighting in the tortured groan that springs from deep in his throat.

“Good. That makes two of us.” I tell him with a smirk.

He lowers his head to my shoulder and curses quietly and I continue to rub him through his pants.

“Katniss, I never tried to kill you. You have to know that by now.” He tells me, in a flustered, out of breath tone. I stop stimulating him with my leg and give him a breather.

I chuckle in reply before slipping my hands slowly down his chest and back respectively, feeling every peak and dip, every muscle rippling and tensing as I recommit them to memory. I close my eyes briefly, indulgently.

“There are a lot of things I should know, Peeta. But so many of them get mixed up when you’re near me. You’re like a drug, and I can never quite predict the side effects you’ll bring with you after the first hit. Sometimes it's an unbelievable almost unending high. Sometimes it's terrible, stress filled paranoia. Sometimes it’s painful lows that drag me into endless waking nightmares. But always, it's intense. And no matter how broken I feel afterwards, you still leave me craving more.” I admit.

I feel his strong arms tighten around me, and he emits a soft mournful sound.

I’m glad that at that moment I can’t see his face.

I don’t think I’d like what I would find.

So instead of searching his expression I reach between our bodies and unzip his pants. His fingers dig into my skin, and his tightened grip only serves to spur me on.

I don’t want to stop. In fact I don’t think I could at this point even if I wanted to.

I think it's the same for Peeta, because even though he doesn't help me remove the rest of his clothes at first, he does nothing to impede me.

After I push his pants and underwear down over his ankles, he kicks them the rest of the way off. We’re both naked now, but he still holds himself gingerly over me, not quite touching.

He sucks in a huge breath and finally looks at me. His eyes sweep up and down my body slowly and I allow him his time.

I stare back at him unapologetically as well. My gaze linger over his well toned stomach, his trim hips, and his thick cock that bobs in the empty gap between our bodies, pointed like an arrow at me. I lick my lips in anticipation but when I look back at Peeta he seems withdrawn from the immediacy of the moment.

“I wish it could be different. I wish there was a way I could wipe away all the fear between us.” He whispers as he tucks a loose tendril of hair behind my ear.

I stare up at him, unblinking.

I don’t think it needs to be said that I wish for the same thing. I’m sure that’s obvious.

But I know I have to say something.

“No one else's hands can make me forget the bad memories like yours can.” I tell him quietly.

He gives me an unreadable look. I think he’s trying not to show how sad or happy that makes him. I know I shouldn’t be irritated by this, but I am. I don’t want his pity, if that’s what this is.

He notices my mouth tipping down into a scowl almost immediately, and mumbles a shaky ‘sorry’, before his mouth descends to kiss the frown off my lips.

Everything else is forgotten, and it's just him invading everyone of my senses.

Taste first.

His lips are clean and sweet, washing away the memory of rough mouths that tasted stale and bitter like too much alcohol and something rotten underneath the lingering traces of decadent Capitol delicacies. With each swipe of his tongue against mine he paints a different picture, of something pure and pristine.

Smell next.

The sweet and spicy aroma of his skin intermingled with the light sheen of sweat condensing on both our bodies makes me feel dizzy with pleasure. It's such an eroticly familiar smell. I’m so wet, and getting wetter by the second that I can distinguish the light scent of my own arousal that is slowly perfuming the room with its headiness. There’s also a small amount of fluid that must be leaking from his tip, that I can smell him too and I revel in the knowledge that our scents will ultimately combine to create something unique that is all our own.

Hearing directly after that.

Peeta groans so long and low when my scent hits him, that I feel it rolling through my core like thunder. He inhales deeply, like I’m an aphrodisiac. He hardens even further, and seemingly can’t help rocking his hips into mine, his erection dragging hot and hard over my naked skin. A small whimper escapes my throat at the thought of him being so turned on. I claw at his skin, trying to get him closer, as close as I can.

Then touch.

He lowers himself over me until his strong chest touches mine, and the nearly invisible blond hairs on his chest brush against my beasts and tease my hardened nipples into harder peaks, making me gasp and urging me to rub up against him like a cat. The planes of his torso fit perfectly against my diminutive curves and I get the feeling we fit better together than most. I hook a leg behind his right thigh, the one made completely of flesh and close my eyes to enjoy the building tension and pleasure at every point where our bare skin meets. With my other hand I reach down and caress what remains of his left thigh, dragging my blunt nails lightly over his stump and enjoying the feeling of his coarse leg hair. He doesn’t flinch, just allows me to caress him thoroughly. I toy with the idea of taking him in my hand and pumping him for a while, anticipating the velvety texture of the soft skin of his cock over the beautiful hardness it conceals. But I refrain, worried that he might get too worked up. I certainly feel overstimulated and we’ve barely done anything yet.

Finally sight is the last.

We both open our eyes to look at each other and I know he can read my silent request for him to skip the rest of the foreplay. I want him now, and I don’t want to wait to feel him filling me up. He holds my gaze for what seems like an endless moment.

He’s amazingly focused as he looks down at me, hair golden and tousled from my wandering hands. I have a small flash of memory of him years younger, being backlit by a flaming cape and headdress while a crowd roars around us instead of the weak light from the overhead fluorescents and the silence that’s only broken by our ragged breathing now.

But in my memory he’s looking at me the exact same way he is presently, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The memory fades, and I don’t try to catch it, preferring instead to live completely in the here and now.

I suck in a breath before I lift my hand to trace the seductive outline of his lips lazily with the tip of my finger. He mirrors my actions by brushing his thumbs in circles over the tips of my breasts. Twin bolts of pleasure shoot down my body and pool in my core, swirling and tightening all at once.

“Don’t make me wait any longer.” I tell him as I exhale and close my eyes for a second before opening them again. He blinks at me, those impossibly darkened blue eyes inviting me to drown inside their beautiful fathomless depths.

I don’t think I’ll ever get over his eyes. They entrance me. Especially after the hijacking. Looking headlong into them leaves me feeling like I’m staring over the edge of a great precipice. It's wonderful, frightening, and maddening all at once. For a moment I feel like a fly caught in amber, trapped within his hypnotic gaze.

And it's only when his lips simultaneously capture mine at the same moment he pushes inside me that I feel like I can breathe again.

“Fuck!” My shout is almost immediately stifled by his mouth, and my eyes tilt up to the ceiling of their own volition. He groans against my lips and twitches inside me and it makes my clench around him. He breaks our kiss and hisses my name, in a mixture of pleasure and strained warning. His eyes are screwed adorably shut in an expressoin that screams of tortured pleasure. All I can do is kiss it off his softly trembling lips.

“Oh Peeta…..” I whisper, reveling in the quiet satisfaction I feel. My voice trails off as he presses his forehead against mine and briefly opens and closes his eyes against the raptourus sensation of finally uniting himself with me. He’s bigger than I anticipated and I feel wonderfully, perfectly stretched. He holds off on moving though until he feels me relax completely. His teeth gritted and his eyelashes that go on forever fluttering while he waits.

It feels like the universe is holding its breath along with me.

He draws a shaky breath and retreats an inch or two.

Then he sinks into me again, and I’m as lost in him as he seems in me.

And we’re burning, meeting, yielding, and combining in between each breath.

My hands are everywhere, his shoulders, his back, his hips, and his ass as he moves in a deliberately slow and steady pattern where he alternates grinding his hips into me and thrusting deeply.

I can’t fight the noises that escape me, soft and high and desperate as I lift my hips to meet him.

And words tumble from his mouth. Confessions, adorations, and praise that’s so earnest and sincere that it rips away any pretense I have of guarding myself against his captivatingly open heart.

I rush headlong into the all encompassing feeling of him worshiping me with his own body. And I can’t help but respond in kind. I comb my fingers through his hair as I kiss along his neck tenderly, trailing my tongue along his skin and nibbling on his soft earlobe. The strained sounds of pleasure he makes when I do are almost as satisfying as the feeling of him filling me over and over again.

I moan his name while I arch against him, inviting him deeper, welcoming him to touch and fill me as deeply as I can stand.

This kicks him into overdrive and he shifts my legs forward until I’m tilted at a different angle, breaking my mouth’s contact with his neck, before he begins driving into me with abandon, my name punctuating every thrust. It's just what I need, and after only about a minute I come hard, sharp and bursting, unable to even scream his name. All I can do is squeeze him inside and out, my muscles clenching around his hard length and my hands grabbing his thighs for dear life.

Once the euphoria begins to subside, I stutter out his name and he licks his way into my mouth, drinking the blissful pleasure off my tongue, as if my orgasm was a shot of liquid adrenaline that energized him further.

From the way he pulls me up, quick as lightning, into a sitting position on his lap as he moves me bodily up and down his cock, it might as well have been. He knows exactly what he’s doing. I can see it in the serious and determined look in his eyes. I can feel it in the powerful flex of his legs and hips as he pumps into me expertly. My thighs tremble and I can feel my mouth quivering as I stare at him wide-eyed and caught off guard.

He knows me and what I like. He remembers everything apparently. He reads my expression and the signs my body gives off as easily as a child reading from their favorite book that they have lovingly memorized.

It takes just seconds for me to come again in this new position, and he rides out the waves with me with a joyfulness that makes me forget absolutely everything but his steadiness and his sweet tenderness underneath the power and strength he keeps humbly in check.

It’s such a contradiction to the venom tainted lies that the Capitol force fed me.

His hands affirm every secret pleasure that only an experienced lover could remember, and it doesn’t feel cheap or tawdry when he palms the cheeks of my ass, or when his mouth dips to suck one of my nipples in between his lips.

It feels exquisite.

I feel exquisite.

I cling to him like he’s the only anchor I have in this seemingly endless sea of pleasure as he rewrites so many ideas I had of what sex between us was supposed to feel like. He holds onto me just as tightly, as if he never wants to let go. We fuse together until there’s no way to distinguish us as separate entities. My hands gripped his closely shorn hair and my breath came hard and fast against his ear as he increased his tempo, giving it his all, while our sweat slicked bodies slid against each other in a frantic push and pull that hurdled both of us towards a brilliant end.

“I’m close.” He says between gritted teeth, as his hands struggle to find purchase on my slippery skin. I dig my knees into the threadbare mattress and wordlessly throw myself into his pounding rhythm wholeheartedly, rising and sinking with him.

“You feel so-” He tries to say, but shakes his head, drops of perspiration scattering as he does so. I merely nod. He doesn’t have to explain, I know what he means.

“Please,” He whispers entreatingly against my shoulder, and it’s all I need.

I feel myself splinter into a thousand little pieces filled with sharp, bursting pleasure. Distantly I hear myself screaming his name.

His hips snap against me, all instinct now as I pull him along with me, catching him up in the undertow of my climax.

He comes with a startled cry, burying himself impossibly deep inside me. I feel every throbbing inch of him emptying hotly into me and for a single blissful moment the entire world feels good and right and clear while we fell apart together.

We fall backwards until my back hits the bed and his considerable weight settles on me heavily. He’s uncomfortably heavy but I savor the solidness of him pressing me down into the mattress. It feels like he’s the only thing keeping me from floating away.

I gently comb my fingers through his short hair as I try to recover. My touch seems to revive him, or remind him, and he eases some of his weight off me, by supporting himself on his elbows.

We stayed like that for several seconds, just trying to regain our equilibrium.

“Was it always that good?” I ask him, more out of curiosity than a real need to know. I had a feeling I already knew what the answer was.

He’s quiet for a few beats, and when he speaks it is in a reverent tone.

“It was for me.” He whispers, and exhales a long breath, “I think, it was good for you too. At least it always seemed that way.” He concludes before looking up into my eyes.

I released a long held breath and nodded before returning to play with his hair.

“I think you’re right.” I finally say before closing my eyes and letting sleep begin to claim me. I miss his reply, if he even gave one, and only frowned slightly when I felt him slip out of me, having grown too soft to remain.

My last conscious thought was of how I missed the feeling of him already.

#everlark #thg #fanfiction #lemonluvwrites #smut #hijacked smut?#role reversal au #hijacked katniss #mockingjay reunion #sexy time

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kyriemrmister · 2 years

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tw time prison fic but

the po honda civic post was on my dash and even though there's So Much Wrong with the time prison fic there's also some lines and moments that live in my head rent-free because i love to torment myself with continuing to read it

(elw*nn j*mes my beloathed, tw for mentions of genitalia, daddy kink, slurs, madness combat mentions, sex jokes, five nights at freddy's mentions, pee jokes, poop jokes, sexualization of minors in a smutless manner, mention of drugs and drug trips, and the fact this is a long post about a very cursed crossover fic that i can describe as 'loud house revamped meets tails gets trolled' quite easily. don't click the read more if you can't handle/have triggers towards these things, just scroll past and don't barge into my askbox about it. curate your experience or perish.)

socks getting drunk on vanilla extract (like the meme) and hallucinating that ghosts stole his balls, and the narration reiterating that since he's transmasc he wasn't born with them

oc catgirl fursona tells him that. which only convinces socks that ghosts timetravelled back in time, went into his mother's womb, stole his balls and made him trans

scooby-doo parody in the reboot that involves socks, seiya, shiryu and hyoga trying to bust a ghost in a manner like ghostbusters that somehow shoves a half life full life consequences ("zombie goasts leave this place") AND a the exorcist ("the power of christ compels you") reference one after the other in the dialogue (hyoga says both) and when that doesn't work seiya just tries to intimidate the ghost by flirting/screaming at it

said sequence also involves seiya calling shiryu an 'egirl son of a bitch' (??? i guess shiryu's daphne?) and the ghost isn't even a ghost, it's davy jones in the onion armor from the dark souls memes and davy is just delivering catnip to oc catgirl fursona

seiya is punished for there not being any actual ghost and is forced to clean clearly self-insert mike nesmith's fireplace in a sexy catgirl maid outfit

ikki in this fic works for peppino's pizza as a delivery person and his first delivery is to snick's house, who transforms into, not snick.exe but a 'sanic'-ified version of himself and chases ikki while the sanic meme music plays, bassboosted low quality and all

oc madness combat employer makes mike nesmith x reader fics and they are accidentally printed on the group's printer and this somehow leads to the fic's version of mike porking her

peppino gets a giant purple pizza cutter with angelic runes that translate to the 'pizza pasta put it in a box' ditty, and when they're read out loud the person that read the runes gets attacked by a horde of ghost rats

micky asking if davy needs anything at the store. davy says she wants to fuck. micky's response is, verbatim: "they don't have that."

the peppino weed trip sequence that is set to running in the 90s, features peppino getting beat up by a plethora of cameos, including jd knudson from loud house revamped, cecil from nightvale, and the fish from sharktale

also it ends with him getting jumpscared by freddy fazbear, and then "you have hurt peppino" in the dark souls font with that "game over yeeeeaaaah" soundclip playing over it

messing with the storyline of head (1968) somehow by having the setting's gods trap the victor mature character in the traptanium from fuckign skylanders. this traptanium powers a city in the arctic btw

one bit that takes place in peppino's has the noise breaking through the wall, t-posing, in a sexy catgirl maid outfit (when one of these is involved in the story its always a joke btw) and the fuckibg nyan cat song plays at full volume

peppino's response is um, this: "You sonnuva rotten lasagna! I'm gonna beat-a the mcfuckin' shit outta you and your tiny little dick!"

he doesn't get to. ikki just uses the phoenix cloth and 'omae wa mou shindeiru's him while saying that line verbatim

seiya and hyoga argument that involves the lines 'fuck your stupid baka life' and 'if it pisses like a duck it shits like one too'

mike breaks up the argument and seiya calls him 'daddy'. mike slaps him and kinkshames him because he's not part of the harem and therefore cannot call him daddy

also the time prison bit originates from an actual plot development that never gets mentioned again where the guy who gets thrown there and talks about it is kyle carrozza of funny music project and mighty magiswords fame

luke ski gets tossed into the sea of japan and becomes, basically, monica from ddlc and gets so clingy and attached to kyle he erases his GODDAMN IRL WIFE from existence

the ending of the original fic involves mike killing valo by using an attack so powerful it just destroys the entirety of reality (previously established to be everything fictional, including fanfiction, as well as our reality) and everyone and everything in it and it breaks everything so bad reality as a whole has to be rebooted

i wouldn't recommend it.

#layne.txt #this fic gives me a headache if i read it too long #i'm just baffled on how weird it is #btw for the most part it's a serious fic #the writers have the worst sense of humor tho and it SHOWS

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thenovelartist · 3 years

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Burned Beginnings, chapter 1

Novel decided to do Adrienette April on a whim. Each post until the end of April (or such is the plan) will have 3 prompts in it.

She also discovered she’s very rusty. Bear with me here. XD

Next>>

1. AU

Marinette had thought she’d grown used to Chloe’s bullying, having to had endure it since they were little. However, with high school came a new name that became a regular part of Chloe’s vocabulary, alongside “hot” and “sexy” and “dreamboat”.

“And Marinette would never catch the eye of someone so perfect.”

Honestly, Marinette had thought she was over it, but on a particularly bad day, she’d snapped back at Chloe.

“Well, clearly he isn’t that perfect if he fawns over someone whose only redeeming quality is pretending to be pretty.”

That had led to a fire alarm getting pulled and Marinette left to blame for it. Anyone who tried to come to her defense was shut down, and Marinette had been suspended.

Which had started an all-out war.

After being stuck at home, wrongfully, for three solid days, Marinette had snapped. She’d decided that if Chloe was going to build a bonfire and poor on the gasoline that she would be there with a match. By senior year, Marinette’s record had taken a hit for it but Chloe’s reputation was in the toilet.

Marinette would take what she could get.

However, she supposed she hadn’t fully thought out the consequences. As much as she played with fire, she should have realized she’d get burned sooner or later.

And she did. Third degree.

We regret to inform you your application has been denied.

Those were words she grew tired of seeing yet came back from every school she applied to. With that in mind, she’d called up her girl friends to tell them what had happened.

“Hey, Marinette,” Alya had said upon seeing the letters. “Don’t get me wrong, I feel really bad for you. But… I did warn you—”

“I get it,” Marinette had surrendered, knowing that Alya was completely right. “You tried to warm me of the consequences, and now I’m paying for them.”

The girls had slipped into a moment of silence before Alix spoke up. “Hey, I can ask Max if he can do a little digging so you at least know why, yeah?”

Marinette had raised a brow but agreed. “Only if he’s not busy with his own college stuff.”

“Oh please, he’s too smart for college. He started up some robotics company in his free time and is already making bank on it.”

It took a week for Max to come back with a full report. Marinette had to give him props for working fast as he did.

“Hacking into the system was the first thing I could think of,” he’d explained. “In the side notes, there was mention of your attendance record and suspensions.”

“They were all wrongful suspensions,” Alix had countered.

“Doesn’t matter to the school,” Max had said with a shrug. “But even then, I thought there had to be more to this than just attendance. There were other students who had the same notes yet were accepted. So I shifted focus to digging up background on all the directors of the school. After hacking a few emails, I discovered Audrey Bourgeois happens to know a lot of directors or administration members in all the fashion schools of France. Considering the contents of most of those emails, it has become clear that Marinette was wrongfully barred from every school she’d applied to. And that there’s nothing that can be done about it because we only discovered such scandal through highly illegal means.”

“So…” Alya had begun, turning her attention to Marinette. “Where does that leave you, M?”

Marinette’s lips had pursed in thought. It was funny how things turned out, because despite her anger, she somehow had been peace with what she was faced with. “I think that the last place I want to be is in an industry full of liars and people who use their words to manipulate anyone they damn well please.”

That was how she ended up working full-time in her parents’ bakery. They never said a word about it, but she knew they were disappointed. Of course they weren’t mad about her still being here and working in the bakery with them, and she knew her parents still loved her more than anything.

But she knew that with as many dreams as she had and had shared with them, they were disappointed on her surrendering it all.

“Sorry, Maman, Papa,” she whispered into the empty kitchen as she plopped the baguettes she formed onto a baking tray. “Just give me a little time to figure things out. Seems like lofty dreams are a lot easier to crush than I realized.”

2. Rebellion

A son can only bear the world of their parent’s expectations for so long. He wasn’t Atlas, but after a few years of acting like him, Adrien decided to dump the globe. To hell if it broke. He’d smirk in satisfaction at his father’s disappointment.

At the very least, the fact he no longer had the weight of the world of his shoulders made the far-too-common disappointment lecture easier to bear.

His strategic rebellion had started harmless enough. At sixteen with a rapidly growing forced modeling career, he’d given his father an ultimatum: he gets to grow out his hair, or it all goes. It had been shocking the amount of power the razor in his hand had given him. It was the perfect harmless threat. His father had been furious, throwing a fit about Adrien acting like a child, but after being gaslit for so long, Adrien had finally come to realize the abusive techniques for what they were. And he wasn’t going to roll over and take it any longer.

That day had ended with Adrien being grounded but ultimately the victor of their stand-off.

After that, he’d begun ditching certain events. He’d always liked fencing, so he never ditched those lessons, but attendance for his home-school lessons, mandarin lessons, and piano lessons had all been decided on a whim. His father had hardly been pleased by this, but to Adrien, that was the point. The lectures soon washed into one another so much that Adrien could practically recite the words that roll off his father’s tongue verbatim. He’d come to realize they were strategically meant to hurt. To humiliate. And as such, he’d stopped taking them personally.

Then came the fun part.

He got earrings. Honestly, Adrien hadn’t really cared for the piercings one way or another. In one way, there were a hassle, and caring for new piercings was a pain in the butt. However, they had been worth it to see his dad so royally pissed off.

Then came the ditching of certain photoshoots. There was a reason Adrien had held off on this one for so long: he cared about the people running the shoot. There was no reason they needed to be collateral in this battle between him and his father. After all, they were just employees doing their job; Adrien didn’t want them to suffer for his rebellion. With that in mind, Adrien had planned out his absences of these photoshoots. Again, he didn’t want to drag anyone else into his mess, so he had always organized a replacement model. Shoot would always go on, just not as planned.

And that was enough to drive his father mad.

It always put a smile on Adrien’s face.

The last touch was an unexpected one. He hadn’t even thought about going this far. Yet, a friend of his not only put the idea in his head, but gave him the art to go with it.

“Is that a tattoo?”

Oh, how he wished he would have taken a picture of his father’s face. The large black cat surrounded in a green, wispy smoke that wrapped around his forearm was truly a work of art. He’d had to think carefully about this decision, but in the end, he quite liked it.

“Yeah. I’m eighteen; I can ink myself if I want to. Why? Is that a problem?”

Adrien might be wearing a cat on his arm, but the grin on his lips was downright wolfish.

Eventually, it all had come to a head and blew up in his face. Adrien couldn’t say he’d been surprised. In fact, he had been fully expecting it. He’d already found an apartment to rent and had begun sneaking most of his important things over there before his father could kick him out. So when Adrien found himself kicked to the curb as soon as he was handed his general education certificate, Adrien had been prepared.

But mostly, he was free.

What a joyous day it was.

However, now that he was free, he knew he needed a job. Not because he needed the money, per se, but because it was time he started acting like the average adult. He never got to go to school, so now, it was time to pick up a mundane, first job that everyone hated but would “serve him well later in life”. Mostly, it would just be something normal.

The easy places to apply were food shops and retail stores. He’d work one for a while before deciding what his next life step would be. Chloe had been quick to offer him a job at her father’s hotel, but Adrien was vehemently against the idea. Over the span of his rebellion, Chloe’s behavior and attitude towards him had grown notably worse, and he had a feeling cutting ties with her would be his next step in life.

In the end, he’d scored a job he definitely was underqualified for. He’d applied partly out of spite and partly because ‘why not?’ He’d heard about this bakery enough times from Chloe to know the “cruel bitch who did nothing but mercilessly harass her” lived here, and that was enough to pique Adrien’s curiosity. At a bakery as popular as that, though, he hadn’t been sure he’d get a call. And when he did, he knew he would do everything he could to present himself as a reliable and respectable man eager to work, but he never thought he’d end up hitting it off with the owner.

Which somehow ended up with him agreeing to work at Tom and Sabine’s Patisserie.

Going into that job, he swore to himself he would do what he could to prove himself worthy. He knew there had to have been better applicants, so Adrien didn’t want to disappoint the very kind owners who dared give him a chance. Soon, his days were spent working hard while covered in flour and surrounded by bread all day. Well, bread and all the sharp and hot objects in your average kitchen.

He just didn’t think that would include a wicked sharp and smoking hot young lady that happened to be his bosses’ daughter.

3. Game Night

“Mama, Papa, please go. You two hardly ever get out of the house.”

Marinette watched her maman put a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone while her papa turned to her. “But I’ll be busy that night. We have a massive order scheduled for the next day.”

“I can handle that,” Marinette quickly countered with a grin. “You know I’m a night owl, anyway. I’ll get it done, and you two can go enjoy game night with your friends.”

Her parents spared each other a glance. “Are you sure about that, Marinette?” Maman asked.

“Positive. Papa already talks to the bread too much, so he really should talk to people for a change. And while you have to deal with people all day, I know you want more than to just have short conversations filled with small talk. So please, go out and have a social life for once.”

With one last look, her parents relented. With a smile, her mother took her hand off the phone. “We’ll be there.”

Papa turned to her with a grin. “I was going to spend that time teaching Adrien how to handle those orders. I can leave teaching him in your hands, right?”

Her grin fell. Adrien Agreste. What the hell a washed-out model was doing working at her parents’ bakery was beyond her. Admittedly, over the last month she’d been working with him, the most she’d say is that maybe he wasn’t too bad a guy. Papa certainly sung his praises. But that still didn’t answer the question of why he was working here of all places. After all, he was Chloe’s friend and suspected lover.

“Don’t think I don’t see that look on your face, Marinette,” her maman chastised. She’d hung up and set her phone down already, fully giving her attention to her daughter. “No matter your personal feelings, you really should give him a chance.”

“He’s a good kid,” Papa said. “Maybe a little rough around the edges, but I can tell he really does want to learn and do his best.”

Marinette sighed. This wasn’t the first time this talk had happened. She remembered having a talk with her parents after his first interview. There were a few other people who were far more qualified for the job, but Papa said he liked Adrien’s personality and spirit the best. So in the end, all Marinette’s objections had fallen upon deaf ears.

She sighed. “Fine. I’ll give him a chance.”

With a smile that made Marinette loath to disappoint him, her papa patted her head affectionately. “Thank you, Marinette. I think you’d like him if you got to know him.”

Not likely. “I’ll do my best, Papa.”

“Really, Marinette,” her maman warned. “Unless you have a valid reason, you need to put aside your feelings for the sake of the bakery running smoothly. Can you manage that?”

Appropriately chastised, Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment. Maman brought up a good point: Marinette shouldn’t let her anger towards Adrien affect the bakery. Her parents didn’t deserve that. “Yes, Maman. I’m sorry.”

With a smile, her maman came up and wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, Marinette.”

Marinette hugged her back. “No, thank you, Maman and Papa, for everything. I won’t let you down.”

Papa wrapped his arms around both her and Maman. “Thank you, sweetheart. We love you.”

“I love you, too.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #AdrinetteApril2021 #AU #Marinette's kinda bitter #And Adrien's a rebel #If they're OOC I don't care #I'm writing again and just rolling with it

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cortanaaq · 4 years

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A/N: This came in later than I expected,it’s really long but I hope you enjoy it.

This is for the anon who requested nct or tbz spending Halloween with you. So I did nct 127 ;’) sorry for waiting

**also thanks to @365nct, i used one of their incorrect quotes for the jaehyun one haha hope they don’t mind

NCT 127 – Spending Halloween with you

Taeil

-He was not really used to celebrating Halloween if it wasn’t for the SM Halloween party

-So this year you got him unprepared

-but he doesn’t mind celebrating as long as it is with you

-he came with the idea to have a couple costume and that was ,,,,

-yup you guessed it

-Beauty and the Beast

-but this time he was the beast and you ofc,the beauty

-because he can’t repeat the incident from 2017 where he was dragged to dress up as Belle and winwin was the beast- anyways

-he glares at you every time you bring it up lol

-this time he pulled the uno reverse card tho

-because he definitely treats you like a prince/princess all the time,he went shopping for costumes with you

-he bought everything you wished for,even the crazy unnecessary decorations like a stupid flying skeleton or a witch dressed as a hooker

-like what even is that?? He wondered but laughed when you gave him puppy eyes

-“it’s funny tho,it would look good at the entrance “

-he snorted

-obvs taeil couldn’t resist those eyes and the pouty lips that he kissed in the end

-spends the whole night eating the candies you’ve got

-he likes to take a loooot of selfies so be ready to be bombarded with funny filters

-after you both get tired of all the dress up thingy,you too decided to watch a horror movie

-classic but he knows what he’s doing

-whenever you cling onto his arm or squeeze his hand he smirks and hums into your ear

-you know he’s teasing and he chose that movie on purpose so you occasionally punch his arm when he tickles you with teasing small pecks on your cheeks and neck

-but you secretly enjoy it don’t lie

Johnny

-Oh johnny boy

-I think for sure Halloween is his fave celebration because he always plans to visit Chicago in that period

-for this and for Christmas of course

-he likes to celebrate it in the US cause the traditions are kept alive there

-so he’s excited to take you trick or treating

-You chose Corpse bride for costumes

-you were so excited to do his make up as Victor and he was excited to see you dressed for a wedding lmao

-While doing his make up before leaving for treating,he kept looking at you being so concentrated

-“you look so beautiful like this babe”

-“johnny I look dead“

-literally

-he laughed and kissed you when he got the opportunity

-and ofc he couldn’t contain himself from making cheeky remarks either

-and you get mad at him for talking and smudging his make up by accident

-“you distracted me !!”

-but you like his annoying ass and would never be actually mad at him

-plus he looked good even with smudged make up

-you think maybe it’s too smudged but he lifts you up and kisses you harder that before

-…and now you’re both smudged but you don’t really mind as you kiss him one more time

-after all,you leave for trick or treating but realize you’re a bit old for this

-he will not go home without corn candies tho so you’ll have to force him to do so -but because he looks around and sees mostly children,

-he suggests going to a party in the neighborhood

-it was a party thrown by his friends ofc

-and you were more than happy to show everyone the power couple you make together

-he drives there,one hand on the steering wheel,one hand on your leg

-occasionally caresses your skin and you blush a little

-he knows your weaknesses tho

-anywayssss

-you arrive at the party,everyone is in awe,,,he can’t really stop bragging about you

-and you have a great time meeting his American friends for the first time

-seeing you tired after a while of being there,he comes closer to you and hugs you from behind

-whispers in your ear how gorgeous you looked and how everyone loved you

-and how he’s gonna take you home and spend more time as real ‘groom and bride’;;))

Taeyong

-this cute baby couldn’t be more excited to celebrate Halloween with you

-and not to baby him even more but his idea for the costumes was to dress up as among us characters

-yes,,among us characters

-specifically black and pink

-can you guess who’s who?

-he went full shopping mode with you and dragged you through the stores only to find the perfect match

-and you did ofc

-you came with the idea to throw a party and invite the rest of your friends

-he checked the list of things you needed to buy for Halloween

-and you teased him saying he stressed too much and we should have fun instead of worrying

-“but baby you know if we throw a party,we need to have enough drinks and food”

-puppy eyes: checked

-speaking in tiny: checked

-how could you say no lmao

-and after you bought everything necessary (and unnecessary),,

-you came home to decorate and to put your costumes on

-tried to kiss but you forgot you had the helmets on lmfao

-you both giggled like two kids

-he looked so cute when he put his science goggles on his head

-and you made sure to capture every single angle of his cuteness

-too many pics ,,

-too many

-you had a lot of fun especially that you organized a costume contest

-and you didn’t win because you were the hosts pfff..

-it’s not like everyone voted you for having the coolest couple costume

-kinda sus if you ask me

-n ee ways

-the party was a success and everyone had fun

-you ended up eating so many sweets

-even tho tyong told you to slow down

-he took care of you and bathed you in kisses and cuddles after everyone left

-“you eat too many sweets every Halloween,,do you even learn?” says as he caresses your cheeks and gives you a long forehead kiss

-“but I can’t help myself,,too good and sweet”

-‘”you’re too good and sweet”

Yuta

-It was the morning of 31st October

-the only thing in your mind was the Halloween party at sm you and yuta were going to attend

-and ofc you didn’t want a lame costume,you wanted something cute

-but powerful

-and not to be a cliché but you asked yuta if he wanted to be dressed as anime characters

-man did he give you a look

-he chuckled lightly at your request but couldn’t say no

-“baby the fact that you’re Japanese makes it 1000x better”

-you cup his cheeks in between your hands and he laughs holding you on his lap

-after all he agrees and you go shopping for costumes

-as you thought,you didn’t want to be the basic anime characters so you chose a cute and powerful couple

-Kagome and inuyasha

-When you saw yuta wearing that long white hair-wig,your heart did a flip

-he smiled so large when he saw you wearing that pretty school uniform

-you made him take you in his arms immediately only to start smooching your face

-“baby my make up”

-you were pouting,but he was smirking coming closer to your ear

-“ I will make up for this later,promise”

- he said that biting your ear lobe softly

-oh boy you wanted to forget about the party only for yuta to “make up” for you but

-you could’ve handled that later that night

-you had a great time partying with the members and other idols at sm

-yuta held onto you the whole night feeling so proud to have such a gorgeous s/o only for himself

-but what you had planned after the party was much more exciting ;;)

Doyoung

-This little sh

-that you loved to the moon and back

-was a bit skeptic about partying for Halloween

-for your sake tho,he prepared a horror movie marathon for both of you

-he also suggested cooking something thematic

-you actually caught him few days ago watching an instagram video of ‘how to make eyeball lollipops”

-You were like ???

-“I want to make these for Halloween because you don’t need to bake anything you know”

-“so we won’t burn the kitchen down? Ok!”

-you agreed faster than he thought

-and that made him doubt his cooking skills for a bit but anyways

-you too didn’t really have anything planned for a costume but you decided to surprise him

-with a bunny costume

-not an onesie,no

-bunny ears and a bunny tail

-while he was concentrated on cooking,

-you showed up wearing a cute lingerie and that bunny costume on you

-“ hey bunny,wanna snuggle?”

-you leaned on the door frame while trying not laugh

-in that moment he was tasting the jam

-but when he turned around and saw you LIKE THAT

-he snorted and dropped the spoon full of raspberries

-he was absolutely sure you wanted to give him a heart

-attack somehow

-but he came to his senses and approached you with a smirk on his face

-you couldn’t even think for a bit because in the next second he lifted you up to kiss you

-“you made me drop the food and make a mess,,do you think I’ll let you go with that?”

-you blushed harder than you thought and suggested to help him clean up the mess

-but he cut you off mid-sentence with a deepened kiss only to tell you with a low tone

-“those raspberries can wait,the bunny wants snuggles doesn’t it?”

-you tried so hard to keep your cool but who can blame you??

Jaehyun

-Another Halloween enthusiast

-he couldn’t wait to dress up as Gomez and Morticia Addams

-you even helped him with the make-up,drawing a mustache on his face

-“haha very funny’’,

-he responds sarcastically every time you look at him and try not to laugh

-but damn the costume was pure gold

-you both looked amazing and he even managed to kiss your hand,up to your arm and neck

-just like Gomez kissed his wife every time he had the opportunity

-you both went trick or treating,along with johnny,mark and other members

-then came back to the dorms and ate so many candies

-jaehyun couldn’t help but stare at you every time he had the chance

-and you knew this costume was a perfect match because you could show him how sexy and elegant you were

-taeyong prepared some food for you all and you had few drinks

-told a lot of horror stories and felt like kids again but jaehyun was waiting to go home only to spend more time with you

-“ the food is too hot,I can’t eat it ::( ’’

-you complained while the others turned their heads to look at you especially taeyong who was about to apologize for the food being too hot

-jaehyun: ‘’you’re hot but I’d still eat-“

--he was cut off mid-sentence by taeyong who slammed his hand down on the table

-“ONE MEAL

-“ONE NORMAL FUCKING MEAL JAEHYUN”

-you all started laughing and looked at jaehyun only to see him grinning like a little bitch he is

-you knew how cheeky he can be so you got up and came closer to him to wrap your arms around his neck

-closer to his ear so you can whisper nonsense, that apparently got him happier that you intended

-he was one lucky guy for sure

-and the Halloween was once again one of his favorite holidays

Jungwoo

-Jungwoo wanted something cute this year

-he was very excited to show you what costumes he prepared for you both

- he kept saying it was a surprise and told you not to prepare anything cause he will handle it

- so while you were preparing the candies for the kids, he snuck up on you and covered your eyes

- you could’ve sworn you felt something fluffy covering your face

- you touched his arms and tried to feel it

- and realized he was wearing paws

- ???

- “babe what are you-“

- he cut you off and turned you around to face him

- he was wearing a big Snoopy costume,with a red bowtie as well

- you felt yourself dying of cuteness

- because now you had THE actual snoopy as your boyfriend

- a bit weird but CUTE ok cute

- “do you like it?? the red bowtie is part of the costume so we could match”

- you looked at him all smiles

- his eyes were sparkling just like a puppy’s :,(

- He grabbed your hand and took you to your bedroom to show your costume

- it was the same snoopy costume but you had a red ribbon on top of your head

- you were excited to try it on

- and when you showed him the costume, he gently approached you to kiss your forehead

- “aren’t we the cutest?”

- after that, he helped you give sweets to trick-or-treaters and so many kids were in awe when they saw you two

- you took pictures to send to his family

- and in the end, you two ended up falling asleep

- cuddling on the couch surrounded by the candies left because you weren’t very active this year

- but still had a great time

Mark

-This year mark wanted it different

-he didn’t only wanted to crave pumpkins or go trick or treating

-he needed a break from every exhausting activity because being and idol

-and well,,

-being mOrk

-he was tired and needed an escape from that solicitant lifestyle

-he surprised you one day with a small trip to an orchard outside of Seoul

-you were so excited because you knew the weather was going to be in your favor

-plus you knew mark was a nonconformist and he wanted to make the time spent w you very special

-like every time

-such a cutie oml pls-

-you two took the train till there,admiring the view from the empty cabin you were in

-he was holding you close and your hand all the time

- occasionally he kissed the top of it

-but you always turned to give him a quick peck on his sweet lips

-you liked to see him all giggly and shy,rubbing his hand behind his head

-when you arrived there,you were accompanied by a guide

-showing you around the orchard

-you were so excited while looking around,looking at the different colors of the apples

-mark grabbed two baskets and offered to help you pick few red and beautiful apples

-you were picking them and from time to time you felt mark’s gaze on your body and smiled

-while he was distracted, you snuck up behind him only to see him startle

-you giggled when he picked you up,spinning you around

-only to leave a sweet kiss on your nose and lips

-after the apple picking,you went to a café that was only few miles away from the orchard

-ate apples on the way because you were a bit tired and very hungry lol

-at this cute café,you two spent some time chatting and just staring at each other

-because you were both cute little hopeless romantics <333

Haechan

-Haechan was actually going to lazy around that day but nope

-you dragged him out of the bed

-telling him you want to crave pumpkins because otherwise

-you will bite his ass

-he gave you the most shocked look

-then managed to laugh

-“I wouldn’t mind,just bite the corner,,just a small bite”

-you rolled your eyes and puffed air from your nose pretending to get mad

-you walked out of the room and grabbed your coat and the car keys

-“yeah right then I’m going to buy the pumpkins myself”

-he came after you giggling and insisting it was a joke

-but you knew and were obvs trying not to smile

-he was a sucker for your pouty face so he loved pissing you off

-little cute shit

-you finally arrived at the local market and bought two big pumpkins

-so orange and tasty

-haechan took a tiny pumpkin and said he’s going to make it your child

-“haechan I’m not gonna shove a knife into our kid,don’t name it!”

-he knew if he names an object and something bad happens to it

-you get attached to it and get sad

-so in the end he didn’t name it but still got it home

-at home,you tried to look on pinterest for craving ideas

-and haechan laughed cause that was silly

-“cmon babe are you seriously looking that on the internet? Just do- *stabs the pumpkin in the middle and cuts out the lid* -this”

-he looks at you with a smile on his face and you just stand there

-bamboozled

-like “I’m really dating a gemini huh”

-you try to cut your pumpkin but the skin was too hard

-and managed to drop the knife out of your hands with a loud bump on the floor

-haechan literally jumped thinking you cut yourself but you were just standing there,,

-bbq sauce on your tidd-

-jk jk

-you were standing there looking at the guts spilled all over the floor

-you sighed but haechan gave you a hug

-“you clumsy baby,gotta be careful. Let me do it for you,,you just scoop what’s left from the inside”

-and you did as he said a bit disappointed that he took the hard work

-even tho you wanted to show him you don’t need help

-but he knew you were an independent person anyway

-that’s what he loved about you actually

-after you were done with cravings,it was the tiny pumpkin’s turn to be cut

-you and haechan just turned to look at each other and he saw you giving him a trembling bottom lip

-“we can’t cut it baaabeee…” you whined

-“okay then just ..let’s draw a cool face on it,no harm”

-you agreed because obvs you couldn’t cut the child you had with him pff

-you took the marker and drew a caricature of your bf on it

-before showing it to him,you covered his eyes and suggested him to sit on the couch for few moments

-he was wondering what you were doing

-after a while you led him,eyes still closed,to the fireplace where you placed the pumpkins

-he opened his eyes and saw the tiny pumpkin standing between the bigger ones

-“see,these two are us and the tiny one is the kid”

-he gave you a look,his eyebrows rised but then laughed

-he hugged you and gave you a small kiss

-he then looked at the bigger pumpkins and stated nodding

-“damn we’re kinda ugly ngl”

taglist: @peachyhan --(who wants to be in the tag list,lmk!!)

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the-princess-with-pancakes · 5 years

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A few words about Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey

I know right? they changed the title after almost a week of screening. What a plot twist.

I was pretty hyped about this movie. No mather the trailers, they were just fine, but the cast and what I was hearing about this, made me very excited. After changing the head of DCEU (or The Worlds of DC (what a weird name)) every movie coming out with the DC logo was remarkably good. Aquaman (2018) was a lot of entertainment, Shazam (2019) was fun, Joker (2019) was great and emotional at times, it didn't win two Oscars for nothing (but I'm still #teamdriver). So what about Birds of Prey: And the Fabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn (2020)? (I like the old title better)

Now we get to the good stuff, so watch out for *SPOILERS*.

The characters, especially the main one, are the best thing about this movie, so we are gonna start with the One and Only Harley Quinn. This is one of the greatest character redemptions in the last few years. She was an awful character Suicide Squad (2016), her only two roles were to look sexy and try to be crazy. That's no way to treat such a wonderful antiheroine. But this movie changed it completely. She finally got some depth. She finally doesn't like she's from a teenager's dream and she finally is funny. About her depth, they added Harley a good between movies' midstory. Which is good, but not great, because I still want to see, how the Joker sents Harley to space, she would be saved of course, but it would be entertaining. No one said this can't be done in future movies tho... Coming back, the few scenes, where she tells Black Canary drunk, that the Joker broke with her, or when she destroys the Laboratory, or when she watches TV with the kid, it shows, that she's human, not just a 1-dimensional disappointment. And combined with Margot Robbie's acting talent and her love for the character, she plays, it makes the movie great of itself. But she's not the only great thing in this picture and that's the best part. Seriously, I can't talk about her enough, so just one more thing, the costumes, wow, wonderful. More of that, please.

She's not alone tho! Not in the third act at least. I mean the Birds of Prey. Because they fight with her. You know. I'm pretty satisfied, how they have written these characters. Although they have a lesser role, then the original (better) title would say, but, that's not really a problem. Black Canary (my Injustice 2 main BTW) is great. I haven't seen that character anywhere else then Injustice 2 and Young Justice (2010-), so I can't say much about it, but I heard she's different here. I don't care tho, she's great, a very well written, after Harley, probably the best-written character here and the second with most screen time. She's badass but also warmhearted. It took me a bit, to get used to the design, but the actress does such a wonderful job, I can't be less mad about it. Montoya isn't the best, but she's still fun. Who cares about the age, when the actress plays as well as she can and does a great job? She's based on detectives from 80's cop shows, so not much to say about here. She's just good. The Huntress, I haven't seen such a badass character made fun off so much, without hurting her image. Such great work from the writers' side. Just explicit.

The humor is the third-best part of this movie. We'll talk about the second-best in a second. The jokes mostly got me. I'm not a big fan of in-your-face humor, I like more the background jokes, but I have to say, I found most of them really, really funny. The sandwich scene was for me a little too much, but for example, the part in the police station was just the best. Or at the carnival.

The choreography during combat is just amazing. As I remember correctly, people from the John Wick team were hired, to do the stunts, so it looks astonishing. Each of the main characters has a different combat style, which just adds to the visual madness of the fight scenes. And the R category adds even more to it. Watching so many legs brake in so many directions, hurt even me.

So there were like two villains. One side villain, but we're gonna talk about him first. I like Victor Zsasz from the Gotham (2014-2019) tv series and that's really the only expression that I saw of him till now. He's different, from what I can remember, less of a silent type and more of a talking psychopath, but he's still enjoyable to watch. He got nothing on the Black Mask tho. Ewan McGregor was a great casting decision. I haven't seen him earlier playing a villain, just the good guys, mostly Obi-Wan, but the job he does here is amazing. You can see, he has so much fun, like it was his childhood dream, to play a face-cutting gangster. My only problem with him was, that he's a little underused.

But that gets into the "bad stuff" category. The movie is great, but the is no movie without flaws. And the biggest is probably the plot. It's basic. it's just a race after a diamond. The backstories of the protagonists were much better. But it's not a big problem tho. The characters, action, and humor are on such a high level, that that doesn't even bother much. The saddest thing for me is the underuse of Black Mask and Bruce (the hyena named after that hunky millionaire Bruce Wayne (I wrote it with a smile on my face)). After a while and a lot of thinking about it, I got to an impression, that the underuse of Black Mask in the third act (or the final fight for the most part) was that to show, that he's not the unstoppable, evil monster, that his describing himself as, but just a guy. So I let myself to turn a blind eye on that. But WTF writers! You have a fucking hyena, that we see in like two scenes and doesn't even rip two guys into pieces. I'm mad about it. And why one and not two? The more hyenas, the better.

You probably heard from the internet trolls, that that's just a big budget propaganda movie. It hates guys. Another Charlie's Angels (2019). Yeah... No. It doesn't. Showing strong female characters isn't a propaganda. It does not tell you, that man are the worst and you should hate them. I can't understand why someone would even think that. I saw the 1-stars wave on IMDb and got a little affraid, but don't worry. It's a wonderful movie, not for everyone, but definietly not like the basement trolls descibe it.

The SPOILER FREE zone is active from now on.

So to sum up. It's a great movie, with funny jokes and action like from a John Wick movie. It's not for everybody, but it's just better because of it. Because it is its own movie. And that's a not seen very often in blockbuster superhero movies. (Can we even call it that? It's not that big bugdet and it's about antiheroins) If you haven't yet, go and watch it. It deserves a little boxoffice boost.

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laketaj24 · 6 years

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Friends IV: Muses and Couches

Author’s Note: Heyy!! Back with the update. Brace yourself. Petty is coming. Taglist open. Requests open! Let me know what you think!!! And thank you for participating in the pols last night and earlier this week!! It was fun as hell to see the little Fairies stake their claim. This one is for you.

Warnings: SMUTTTTTT!!! TWICE.

Friends I, Friends II, Friends III Vikings MASTERLIST

The two weeks blurred before your eyes. Ivar was furious but with school back in session and a girlfriend there was not time to talk to you, let alone bitch to his brothers, who had already betrayed him. You took it as the ultimate win. He would never fight Bjorn. Bjorn would win unless Ivar didn’t fight fair, he liked Hvitserk, even though he was an ass to him. So, you had won this round of the game and you were a spoiled victor.

But perhaps the game wasn’t over. You sat with Ubbe, Torvi and Hvitserk at Astrid’s. The small café was packed tonight. Sigurd was doing a secret show Kattegat. The younger Lothbrok had made a mark on the world with his first debut, AXED and ever since then he had been renowned for his music, especially his guitar skills. He was a force in the industry.

You never really spent time with him, Ivar wasn’t his biggest fan and the others never paid their small feud attention, but you did. It was all you heard when you were younger and perhaps it was a sign that your next move should be him. It actually had to be him.

You were the red dress with your beige fuck me heels. No one every said no to them, Sigurd wouldn’t either.

“Are you gonna do it?” Torvi whispered next to you. She was such a little instigator and you hated to admit it, you loved it. “He is looking nice up there, the tour done him some good.”

You laughed. “I actually think it would be a good idea to fuck him as a final goodbye to Ivar you know. Fuck his hated brother and let him and the demon have their spawn.” You twiddled with your straw. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it is an amazing idea. And then we can move you onto a good guy, like Alfred.” She leaned in to whisper in your ear. “he is really interested in you, he likes you.”

“Little Alfred?” You questioned. “He’s younger than me?”

“So, he’s a good guy. Trust me they are rare.”

“Is that why we keyed your ex’s car that night?”

“He punched Ivar over it, it was a win/win.” She added. “You should have seen his face, he was so confused. It was perfect. Now, after this set take your sexy ass up there to Sigurd, work that freaky magic and get the dick! And remember receipts.”

“Get whose dick?” Ubbe leaned over being nosey.

“That’s all you heard out of the whole conversation.” She griped and placed a playful kiss on his lips. “Watch your brother kill this set.”

The show went on for another forty-five minutes and you took Torvi’s advice and waited for him on the side of the stage, like a groupie but at least he fucking knew who you were. His tatted hands and arms came to alarm you, Sigurd had changed a little, it was fitting.

His face lit up when he seen you on the side of the stage, his green eyes actually looked happy. “Y/N, fuck it’s been forever! I didn’t even know you were still around here.” His arms wrap around your body and he’s genuine as he rocks a few times with you and steps back. “How’d you like the show?”

“It was phenomenal, I didn’t know you could play like that.”

“Yeah.” He paused. “I know you remember Ivar talking about my music lessons.”

“Fuck him.” You spat. “I think he was jealous.”

“Likely.” Sigurd smiled. “You wanna talk for a second. I have to go back on in an hour or so, there is no point in talking to my brothers, they’re infatuated with Torvi.”

“Yes! That would be awesome. Where to?”

“She has a room set up for me back here. I would love to tell you about the tour if you wanna hear. It’s just so good to see a face I’m familiar with.” He opened the side door and you walked in after him and took a seat on the brown couch. The room smelled of jasmine. Astrid was all about essential oils.

“So, tell me about the tour. Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, it was amazing. I went to some places that blew my mind. People know me now. It’s weird.” Sigurd takes his seat next to you and his arm brushes against yours. You weren’t too far from him, and you couldn’t take your eyes off his hands. It must genetics. They were riddled with tats but there was no doubt in your mind the thick fingers could work some magic.

“What are your muses?” You asked clearing your throat. You clenched your legs together, were you starting to enjoy this game a little too much?

“Pretty woman like yourself.” He blushed.

“Like me?” You sat back on the couch and uncrossed your legs. “Ivar didn’t think so.”

“He wouldn’t, he’s a child.”

“And you’re a man?”

“I like to think so.”

“Want to prove it, I can be your muse.” You whisper as you turn to him. His face is inches from yours and all you can think about is the way his lips will feel on yours.

“Are you not Ivar’s?”

“I belong to myself and no one, Ivar has a woman.”

He chuckles. “It would have made it sweeter if you were his…” He whispered under his breath as his lips touch you and the kiss deepens.

“We could make it sweeter for the both of us.” You slide your phone out of your purse and lift your eyebrow at him. “If you want to?”

“Yeah cut that thing on.” Sigurd laughs and he kisses you and pulls you into his lap. Maybe it’s nature but you rub yourself against him and feel his cock through the jeans. “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Everything moves quick. You unbuckle his pants and pull his cock out. You were impressed as you stroke him from tip to hilt and pull aside the red panties. He had magical fingers, maybe the guitar was playing so beautifully because of the way they worked. Sigurd fingers work your swollen clit like it had never been worked before, he kneaded and touched in just the right places that you came before you could even get him inside you. There were no complaints as he took his fingers from you and pushed into you with parted lips and eyes locked on yours. He was different from his hungry brothers. He was gentle. He fucked you slow,. He moaned each time you winded your hips on him and every time you heard him the melodic moans nearly sent you overboard.

You nip at his ear and he sucks air through his teeth. “You fuck me so well Sigurd.” You praise.

And it was just what he needed to get a untamed pace and start fucking into you with a vengeance, or a vendetta. He flipped you onto the couch and fucked you hard and deep until you forgot where you were even at. It doesn’t take long to cum beneath him and him to follow after. He rested on you and your hands sifted through his hair.

“This was worth it.” He laughed.

“I think so.” You smile.

“But don’t send it to him, please?” he sighed. “As much as that fucking twat gets on my nerves, I think he might go a little mad.”

“I won’t.” you assure him. “I swear it.”

You sent the video. He saw it, read it. Not one word.

You sit in the restaurant with Hvitserk on your right and Sigurd on your left. It wasn’t even awkward as the brother talked and carried on with Ubbe and Torvi about what games they were going to this soccer season or not. Your mind was on the lack of response from Ivar. He responded with Hvitserk and Bjorn but not Sigurd.

“That’s it, you have to come with Ubbe and I to the cabin!” Torvi finished her beer and then grabbed another slice of pizza. “Right Ubbe.”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Then that’s that! Yes! Girl’s trip plus Ubbe.”

Your eyes are hooked on the door. It was fucking Ivar. Why was he back in Kattegat? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “I have to go pee or something.” You push against Hvitserk, but it is too late as he makes his way to the table. “Fuck.”

“Y/N, brothers.” He glared at Sigurd and then you. If looks could kill you would have been on the floor, closed casket.

“I didn’t know you were in town Ivar.” Ubbe looked confused.

“Urgent matters came up.” He shoved his hands in his pocket. “But I am here now, can I join?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Hvitserk laughed. “Come on, finally us four are back together again.”

“Yeah, rare.” Ivar’s eyes narrowed. “How is the tour Sigurd? Fucking everything that can walk?”

Sigurd laughed. “No, the tour is stressful actually.” Sigurd had no idea you had sent the video. But he was starting to figure it out because Ivar was being uncomfortable with his glares and stares.

“Good for you.” He stares at you. “Well, I have to be going. Y/N can I have a word. I won’t take you away from your toys too long.”

Hvitserk looked up. “Don’t be rude.”

“Fuck you and fuck off, Hvitserk.” He waited at the door for you. He had a smile on his face. A part of you wanted to run the other way, while the other wanted to see what the fuck he wanted. You reach him. “Having Fun?”

“Yeah, I like this restaurant.”

“Don’t you fucking condescend me.” He growled through his pearly whites. “I will talk with you later.”

“No, you won’t. Go home to Angel, or demon tits.” You step back before he can reach your arms. “And Sigurd plays the pussy just as well as he plays the guitar.” You grinned. “I love your family baby.”

Four in the morning came fast, you head to your apartment with Ubbe walking you to the door. “Thank you Ubbe, I got it from here.” You laugh as he lazily leans on the wall. He was worn out. “Get some rest.”

“Night.” He said heading down the steps.

You stumble into your home kicking off the heels and tossing the jacket to the ground. You just wanted your bed. A hand clasps over your mouth muting the scream.

“I told you I would see you later.” Ivar lifts you from the ground and your legs flail. “You think you are funny, fucking my brothers like I wouldn’t teach you a lesson. You are still mine.” He drops you to the ground places you against the wall. Everything in you wanted to bolt out of the door but his heavy frame made it impossible to pass.

“Get out of my house!” You yelled.

“I will go nowhere. I got over Hvitserk.” He paused. “I got hit by Bjorn, but I cannot stand for Sigurd. That little pompous shit is not worthy.”

“And you are? You lied to me. You got another girl pregnant.”

“We were not together!”

“But you promised!!” you hear your voice. “You said it was me, me forever! And then her, you just met her Ivar. You just met her and fucked her like it was nothing. I never meant anything to you did I? Did I!”

“You are everything!” He roared. “And now I have to watch you be some used slut for my brothers! I will not allow it!”

“Better a used slut than a godmother.” You gathered enough strength to push him out the way. “Get the fuck out of my house! Now. Go back to you just add water, instant family and get the fuck out!!”

“I told you that was not how I wanted things to happen. I wanted to be with you! I told you this!”

“But your actions, Ivar, they are not on your side. You lied to me.” You try to hold back they tears. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

“We are talking all of this out, right now. You think I like seeing you fuck my brothers.”

“I don’t care.”

Ivar invades your space. His hands cup your face and everything about him in this moment is soft. His eyes, his face. He strokes your face and leans in and he kisses you. You fight the urges to punch him in his face and allow yourself to fall victim to the way he touched you. Every spark triggered memories, every moan made you weaker. You place your hands on the wall and he looks down at you. “Tell me you care.” He breathed.

“I don’t.” You add.

“You lie.” His nose softly drags across your jawline and Ivar’s lips press onto yours. “Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t.”

You blink and he’s flipped your around on the wall, his big hands grip your ass and a groan escapes. “You lie to me? Hmmm? You fucked my brothers and you think I am not supposed to care.” He pushes his hands beneath the hem of the dress, and you suck in air. “We can fix this. Who can fuck you better than me?”

“I’m not doing this.” But you were. Your body have given in to Ivar the moment he appeared in your apartment. This fucking bastard was good at bending your will. You don’t protest once he slides the dress over your head or throws you over his shoulder too the couch. The same ouch you’d almost fucked Hvitserk on a few weeks back. Guilt tings you a bit as he starts to spread kisses all over your body. Leaving a small trace of him with each kiss. “Ivar.”

He looks down at you as he throws his shirt to the floor and reveals the tattoos. You were toast. Fucking dead to the world. “What?” he smiled.

Your mouth was dry and perhaps you now understand why people associated thirst with lust, you wanted to drink every bit of him. Fuck his girlfriend. This man was supposed to be yours. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” He pressed his hand to your throat as he slams into you. This was a fucking punishment.

Your body tenses and a squeal escapes, you’re unsure if it’s in pleasure or pain but he continues to fuck you. His hands get tighter and you gasp for air.

“Short of words?” He snarled. Ivar pushes into you again. “Who can fuck you better than me?” Ivar asked.

Your not able to speak but your body answers, you twitch as your legs are in a frenzied state below him kicking and gripping him to go harder, faster.

“Hmm!” He yells. “Not Bjorn.” His hips snapped onto yours. “Not Hvitserk.” And again. “Especially not that backstabbing cunt Sigurd.” Again and again until you feel the dam break in you. Emotions, fucking tears and your body shook. “Yes, answer me! Who!” You can’t answer as your body ripples into one orgasm and then another. “No one. No words huh. He lifts his hand and you take a big gulp of air only for it to be taken as he continues to fuck you senseless.

Minutes pass and his phone vibrates everyone of them. “Answer it.’ You breathe on top of him.

Ivar answers with a sigh. “Hey, Angel.” Pause, you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart beating erratically. “I will be home tomorrow morning. Yes, mom is okay.”

So he lied to get to you. You shake your head and stand up from the couch. It didn’t seem like a task to collect his clothes from the floor and throw them at him. You take your dress and walk into the kitchen. You wished he would get the fuck out and let you wallow in your sorrow. The call ends and you make your way back into the living room with your hands planted firmly on your hips. “Go.”

“I’m leaving.” He smiled. He stood up and started to dress. “I will never forgive you for fucking my brothers. I hope you know that.”

“I don’t give a fuck.” You lied. “Get out.”

“Gladly.” He says still shirtless but leaving.

He leaves and you climb in the bed, it’s soaked with tears, but you find sleep. It was all you wanted anyhow. The morning, or afternoon comes quickly, and your peace is ruined by the never-ending raps on the door.

“Y/N! Open up!” It was Sigurd.

You barely dress tossing on the first shirt you see and open the door. “Sig?”

“Did you send him the tape?”

“Uhm, why?”

“Because it’s fucking leaked all over the internet!!!” He yelled.

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#vikings #laketaj24 #ubbe #ivar the boneless #laketa j writes #ivars heathen army #hvitserk #ivar lothrbok #ivar #sigurd #sigurd x reader #ivar x reader

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

Text

Prompt: :Loved this ! How about a 5 dances, 4 for the games/rebellion one for them post MJ?

Here you go [X]

5 Dances and 1 Of Another Kind

“What are we doing here, Chaff?” Haymitch asked with a groan as they entered the house where the party was in full swing.

“Taking advantage of drunk models who are all gonna be desperate to sleep with victors.” his friend retorted before calling out the woman Haymitch figured to be their host with a big smile. He watched Eleven’s victor greet her and kiss both of her cheeks – prompting her to giggle – and made an effort to smile and nod when he was introduced.

Still, it didn’t prevent him from shaking his head when his best friend disappeared in the crowd of people. Chaff might be five years older than he was but Haymitch often felt that the man had tossed any idea of behaving like an adult through the window when women were concerned. With so many lovely specimens around though he could almost understand the urge.

He was only twenty-three after all and rather lonely. He had long resolved not to get close to anyone in Twelve for everyone’s safety including his and that ruled out possible affairs during the rest of the year so he tended to make the most of his time in the city - even if he was always uncomfortable going for Capitols and their weird ideas of make-up.

He didn’t have to see their make-up in the dark though.

A waiter walked nearby with a tray and he snatched a glass, looking around curiously, still somehow flabbergasted by the parties those people threw even eight years after his victory. The flashing lights, the loud music, the hysterical laughter and the food…. They were far from the more distinguished events the Games usually threw. This felt more genuine, just a couple of friends – or a hundred – having fun in a mansion with what looked to be a foaming pool. He understood the purpose when he spotted the people rubbing together in the middle of the foam in time with the beat of the music.

He wandered a bit at random, sometimes whirling around and walking backwards to better stare at a pretty ass a second longer. Models indeed.

He was busy doing just that when someone pointedly cleared their throat next to him. The woman was gorgeous, there was no other word for it. Endless legs that immediately made his mouth water, nice curves that her sequined white dress was barely covering, a red wig styled in a puffy bun at the top of her head outlining her slender neck, bright blue eyes that sparkled with amusement. The bearing of a queen and the body of a goddess.

“Rude.” she commented, tilting her head toward the woman he had been ogling and could now barely remember.

The smirk was instinctive. “Hi.”

Her crimson painted lips closed on the bud of a cigarette. Everything from the way she took a drag to the way she breathed out the smoke was graceful and so obviously a rehearsed act of seduction that he wavered between being put out and succumbing to it.

“Hello.” she answered at last, flicking ashes in an ashtray placed on the dresser against which she was leaning. “Mr Abernathy.”

“Now you have me at a disadvantage, sweetheart.” he joked, propping his own hip against the dresser, his whole attention on her. The room could have caught fire, he didn’t think he would have noticed.

“Being famous has its perks.” she agreed, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Sure does.” he toasted her with his half-empty glass. “Got a name of your own?”

“I am disappointed you don’t know.” she retorted. “I happen to be quite famous myself, I will have you know.”

It was said with the perfect mix of arrogance and humor to make it endearing rather than irritating. She was witty. He loved witty.

“Let me guess…” he teased. “You’re a model.”

“Brilliant deduction. Of course the fact that almost everyone here works in the fashion industry might have been a big clue.” she taunted right back.

And he found himself chuckling. “Tell me, sweetheart… You ever did lingerie?”

“Shocking!” she exclaimed, laughing. When she stopped laughing she gave him a heated look. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Actually, he really did. “Do you dance, Haymitch?”

“Not if I can help it.” he answered truthfully.

“A shame.” she deadpanned, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray before sauntering away toward the dance floor without even a look for him.

So confident he would follow…

He wanted to stay there just to so he wouldn't give her the satisfaction but given the heads that turned in her wake, he was pretty sure someone else would soon make a move.

With a muttered curse at his own incapacity to resist difficult women, he caught up with her and tugged her on the dance floor without giving her a choice. It wasn’t exactly Twelve’s dances or even the more regulated waltzes that were mandatory to every victory party though and he had never really mastered the art of wriggling to those songs without looking like an idiot. She saved him by tossing her arms around his neck and rubbing against him slowly, in total opposition to the quick beat. That was a sort of dancing he could handle though.

“So, mystery girl, you’re ever going to give me a name?” he asked after a few seconds, mainly because he was drowning in her eyes and quickly losing sight of… a lot of things. He had never been so drawn to a Capitol before and it was wrong on many levels. He wanted to keep ahead of it.

“I still think you should know.” she grinned. “I am quite popular at the moment.”

“Never heard of you, sweetheart.” he shrugged apologetically, letting his hands wander from the small of her back to her ass. “But I ain’t likely to forget you.”

“You are not likely to forget the slap I will give you if you leave your hands there, that is certain.” she grinned.

He didn't move them and she didn’t slap him.

“Not to alarm you but I’m gonna seduce you into sleeping with me tonight.” he warned her, his smirk so genuine it almost hurt his lips. He couldn’t’ remember the last time he had had so much fun trying to hook up with a girl.

“Not to alarm you but you will have to buy me dinner first.” she chuckled.

He shook his head, pressing her tighter against him. She was the one doing most of the dancing, he was just following her lead. “I don’t do dates.”

“You do not dance if you can help it either and yet here you are…” she pointed out, far too smug.

Oh, she was dangerous that one…

“Here you are!” Chaff cut in, grabbing his arm with his good hand and tugging him away from the girl. “We need to go. Quick.”

“What?” he frowned, trying to shrug his friend off because he just knew the girl was playing hard to get but he still had a shot. “Why?”

“Cause stalky Katy just arrived and I’m so not in the mood for that. Not even for so many models.” Eleven’s victor explained, tugging hard.

Stalky Katy was what they had nicknamed the woman who followed Chaff around like a shadow. She was the crazy sort of fans, the kind who sneaked past security to surprise you in the shower. Repeatedly. Stalky Katy was driving the Peacekeepers at the Center completely mad. She wasn’t to be trifled with and Haymitch so didn’t want to get caught in the middle again. Last time she had accused him of stealing Chaff’s attention away from her and had tried to claw his face off.

So he let himself be dragged away, tossing a last regretful look to the now extremely annoyed girl. The pout was sexy.

“The girl I was dancing with… You know her?” he asked, once they were a few streets away from the house and hopefully safe from the likes of Katy.

Chaff made a sound of ignorance. “No idea, buddy. With all that make-up they all look the same. Can ask around if you're interested.”

He hesitated for a moment and then waved a dismissive hand. “Never mind.”

He was a bit too sure she would have found a way to be a little more than a one night stand.

It was safer to forget all about her.

They had been forced to play this game two times already and Haymitch still hated every minute of it.

It was traditional – and by that he meant more or less mandatory – for mentors and escorts to share a dance at the Victory Banquet after the Crowning.

The first year Effie hadn't been able to shut up about it for days before the actual ball. He could still hear her rant about how beautiful and inspiring the whole charade was and what an honor it would be to partake in it. That had lasted until the actual dance when he had made it his duty to ruin the experience as much as possible for her by stomping on her feet, tripping her and generally acting like a klutz.

Then, of course, there had been the second year when he had forgotten to pretend he couldn't dance and when she had sworn she would get her revenge for the previous year’s humiliation – which had ended with them having a terrible argument in the middle of a waltz that had had everyone covertly laughing at them. They had stormed away from each other long before the last note.

And now there they were again for the third time, waltzing around that room with moderate ease - he had been doing this for more than a decade, after all – unable to look at each other because of what had happened the other day in the elevator. And then a few days after that in the living-room. And that morning on the hallway’s carpet. He still had burns on his knees from all the rubbing against the rug.

It was awkward on many levels and, while Haymitch pretended not to be bothered by what he had insisted were simple accidents, it was a bit difficult not to remember the softness of her skin or the taste of her mouth or even how her nails felt when they dug deep into his back.

Being forced to hold her so close wasn't helping any.

It had been inevitable, he figured. They were simply too… explosive together. They clashed. They didn’t know how to do anything else but clash. They fought and argued and screamed at each other in frustration. He hated her and she loathed him. He loathed her and she hated him.

And the more they fought, the thicker the tension between them became.

He wasn’t exactly surprised they had ended up fucking, clothes still on and roughly shoving the other away only to tug them back closer. He wasn’t even sure it could be called fucking. It had felt more like fighting. Animals giving in to their baser instincts, rolling around because they couldn’t help themselves. It was either fucking the brain out of each other or murdering each other.

It wasn’t even that good. The first two times had been over before it had really begun and he didn’t think she had even really enjoyed it. And yet they had still ended up flat on the carpet that morning, her hand angrily pumping him and her mouth unforgiving against his.

She had come that morning, a mewl escaping her throat as she had strained her neck, exposing her throat to his teeth… He could still guess at the mark he had left there under the make-up and it left him hungry for more. He wanted to bite her again. Scratch her. Bruise her. Fuck her so bad the only thing she would remember was his name…

It scared him to death how much he wanted her.

“You are staring at my chest.” she murmured, her eyes still looking at a point over his shoulder not to meet his gaze. Her tone was slightly subdued compared to her usually bossy attitude.

Any other time, any other year, he would have replied with an inappropriate gibe because for how annoying she was, he liked that she could always match him wit for wit.

Right then, their peculiar brand of flirting felt like playing with fire.

“Sorry.” he muttered and made an effort to look away.

It seemed to surprise her.

He didn’t pause to wonder if that was disappointment flashing on her face.

He couldn't wait for the dance to end before he lost his sanity.

The hand that felt on Haymitch’s shoulder was light and almost hesitant.

He looked up from his seat to find his escort looking anything but that. When did she ever look hesitant? Effie Trinket was arrogant to the point of blindness. She had to know better than anyone else and particularly him, always. And when confronted with ugly truths she would have preferred to keep on ignoring…

His jaw clenched and he brought his glass to his lips, ignoring the questioning looks Chaff and Blight were both giving him. “Not in the mood, Trinket.”

She pursed her lips in clear irritation but didn’t outright verbally attack him. Maybe because they were in public and she didn’t want to cause a scene. Maybe because the party wasn’t the right place to reenact the nasty fight from the night before. He hadn’t seen her all day and he had been grateful for her absence.

They had had fights before, of course – they hardly did anything but fight. But that one had been the worse they had ever had. Her incessant insistence that he ought to talk to Finnick about the company he kept and about what he was doing with said company… His repeated requests for her to drop it… The inevitable culmination of that argument in a screaming match where he had accused her of being blind to what was going on behind closed doors – and he knew it wasn’t really her fault because she may have been an escort for five years but he wasn’t popular enough that she had to deal with that and the whole thing was rather hush-hush – and where she had accused him of being a liar…

Her shouting at him that he was a liar hadn’t set well with him and he had told her every bit of nasty truth she might still have been unaware of… She had flung a glass at his head with a roar of rage, repeating again and again that he was a liar, a coward, that he got their tributes killed every year because he was too lazy to do his job… He had shouted back that she was the one reaping the children so that if she wanted to cast blames, she should start at her own door, he had told her she was stupid, shallow, ridiculous, that she was nothing exceptional, that he had seen a hundred girls like her thinking they were it before and that there would be a hundred more once she would be gone…

He had pushed her every buttons, ending with the one he knew would really hurt her: her pathological thirst for fame and how those people out there screaming her name didn’t really love her… It hadn’t been that much of a surprise that she had tried to jump on him, to hit him… But it had enraged him. He had shoved her away easily, had warned her to stay away… She had brought up his Games with something akin to sick enjoyment…

He had almost hit her then.

He had come very close.

It had taken every ounce of control he had to just grab a couple of bottles and head to his room.

All in all, he thought she had been lucky he hadn’t been completely wasted because then… Then, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

The fight, his behavior, her stupidity, had been bothering him all day but he wasn’t in any mood to confront his feelings about it and certainly not at a party where everyone would study them and try to decipher what was going on. A victor had no private life. He had learned that early enough.

“I did not come here to fight.” she sighed, waving a hand in a clicking of bangles. “This whole thing is ridiculous anyway. Let’s just… Let’s just forget about it, shall we? Let’s be friends again, Haymitch.”

She was all smile and cheers, her bright eyes briefly darting to Eleven’s and Seven’s victors – the only hint perhaps that she was more nervous than she appeared.

“Friends.” he scoffed, sneering at her. “I ain’t your friend, Trinket. You’re a pain in my ass I’d gladly be rid of.”

Chaff and Blight exchanged a look and fought off smiles but didn’t make any attempt to cut in. Good. He wouldn’t have welcomed any sort of teasing at that moment.

“Language.” she pouted. She deflated but it only lasted a second, then she was bubbly again, her perpetual good mood apparently impossible to vanquish. “There is no reason to be rude when I am simply extending an olive branch.”

“Oh, you’re extending an olive branch…” he spat. “How fucking generous of you. ‘Cause you’re the injured party here, yeah?”

“I think we can both agree we both crossed the line.” she hissed. “However if you intent to keep a grudge, far from me to stop you. I was willing to be the bigger person but clearly acting like an adult was expecting too much of you.”

She stormed off into the crowd, immediately finding a group of people to mingle with, leaving Haymitch to glare at her. The red dress she was wearing wasn’t helping any. It left her back bare right up to the swell of her ass and made him want to… He downed his glass. Damn those endless legs of hers. Damn that ass. Damn the slender neck he was desperate to squeeze. Damn the breasts he could almost feel in his hands…

“What was that about?” Chaff asked, a touch of humor in his voice.

“Nothing.” he grumbled. “Drop it.”

It was asking too much of his best friend though. Eleven’s victor chuckled. “Well, you know what I think, buddy. You should just fuck her. Get rid of all that sexual tension between the two of you… Get rid of her in the process too.”

He let out a non-committing grunt.

He had fucked her. Not every way under the sun but close enough.

They had kept stumbling in bed the previous year, had kept on repeating it was just as much an accident as it had been the year before that, had kept on avoiding each other… This year though… This year they had stopped claiming it wasn’t on purpose. They fought and they fucked. That was how it worked now. And if both of them sometimes pretended to get more angry than strictly necessary just so they could have an excuse to push the other against the closest flat surface… Well…

He had fucked her. Repeatedly. In every position he could think of.

The sexual tension wasn’t going away and neither was his lust for her.

The more he took her, the more he wanted her.

Even now, he was staring at that dress she had on and all he could think about was bending her over a table, bundle the fabric up around her waist and have her way with her while biting at every bump of her spine. She would let him too. Beg for more probably. Cry out in pleasure when he would…

His grip tightened badly on the glass and he snatched the bottle Blight had been hogging to pour himself another that he downed just as fast. It did nothing to steady his nerves or to help the bulge in his pants.

Fighting with her made his blood hot.

But not the kind of fight they had shared last night. That one… He could have hurt her. He really could have. He had been so furious it had driven him mad.

And there she came sauntering back with an offer to pretend nothing happened…

He barely followed the conversation between Chaff and Blight, completely focused on Trinket. He watched her laugh with a sponsor, watch the way she let the guy place a hand on her arm, watched as the man’s hand trailed down to her hand in a confident caress…

And he gritted his teeth, might have snarled a little even…

“You’re okay there, Haymitch?” Blight frowned, stopping mid-sentence.

Chaff followed Twelve’s victor’s gaze and rolled his eyes. “When you go get your girl back, try not to punch the sponsor.”

“Not my girl.” he growled. “And I ain’t going.”

“Sure, you’re not.” Eleven’s victor mocked.

The guy was leading Trinket away. To where couples were rubbing against each other… The man’s fingers let go of her hand to rest at the small of her back as he guided her more firmly toward the dance floor… The hand was far too low. Haymitch was sure the guy’s pinky was brushing against the crack of her ass.

He shot out of his chair so fast he barely heard Chaff’s bark of a laughter.

He was next to his escort so quickly it almost made him dizzy.

“You owe me a dance, Trinket.” he snapped with a glare for the guy who backed away easily enough faced with his obvious irritation.

“That is so rude!” she protested even as he dragged her to the dance floor by the wrist and tugged her against him. “Truly! I have never!”

“Cut the act.” he mumbled. Because she was pleased, he could see it plain as day. She could play the proper lady all she wanted, she was very much a minx when it came to some things.

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side before stepping even closer to him, her arms locking around his neck. His hands found their place at the small of her back, on her warm skin. Where they belonged.

“I thought you did not dance if you could help it?” she challenged.

He couldn’t remember telling her that but he had been wasted often enough at parties to have forgotten so he simply shrugged, glowering at her. “Don’t try to make me jealous.”

She lifted a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Why? Is it working?”

She had pink spirals curling from her eye to her cheek – the last trend in term of make-up apparently – and it was just silly. Like a child playing dress up.

“I ain’t jealous ‘cause I don’t give a shit about you.” he growled.

Hurt flashed in her eyes but it was quickly concealed behind amusement. “And yet that man barely brushed his hand on me and here you come running…”

He wasn’t jealous. Possessive, maybe. And even then… He wasn’t sure that it was the right word for what he felt.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” he warned, barely making the effort to sway to the music. “What you did last night…”

“What about what you did?” she huffed.

“Just told you the truth.” he spat. “’Cause you were like a dog with a bone and…”

“Well, so did I.” she cut him off, jutting her chin high in the air with that arrogance that infuriated him so much.

They stared at each other for the longest time.

“I hate you.” he sneered eventually, pushing her hips harder against his, not even caring that anyone could figure out what was going on at any point because they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor and he had a boner. She drove him crazy. Completely crazy.

“So do I.” she claimed, her breathing a bit short for reasons that had nothing to do with the dancing. “Are we alright now? There is fighting and fighting… Last night… We went too far, last night.”

“Are we ever alright?” he snorted before rolling his eyes. “I want to rip that dress off instead of your throat now. So, you know… Progress.”

“Perhaps it is time for us to call it a night.” she offered, leaving him alone on the dance floor before she even finished her sentence.

He stared after her for a second.

And then he gave chase, already certain they would never make it past the elevator.

The Victory Banquet was crowded and everyone wanted to talk to Haymitch about something or other. He didn’t remember the last time he had eaten something – probably the sandwich while they had been waiting for news of Peeta’s condition – and the glass of champagne he had downed after the Crowning hadn’t done much to stop the shakes. There simply hadn’t been time for drinking in the last few weeks and he had been forced to drastically cut down.

It had been worth it though.

Not one victor but two…

He could scarcely believe it still.

Even knowing that the stunt with the berries would come back to bite them in the ass, even knowing they couldn’t afford any mistake… He looked at the kids holding hands and all he could feel was relief and happiness and it trumped the dread and the worry that wanted to rail their ugly heads.

He looked around the Mansion’s ballroom for Cinna who had told him he wanted to talk to him about something important, something that would apparently change his life, but couldn’t spot the stylist anywhere.

He did spot his escort though.

Effie seemed to be in the same strange daze he was in. Ecstatic, exhausted and waiting for the other shoe to drop all at once. She was even more hyper than usual and he figured it had to do with the pills she had been popping like candies in the last few days. Nothing but perfectly harmless stimulants, she had claimed, to keep the edge of. He didn’t like it but there had been no time to address that either.

He wasn’t the only one with self-destructive tendencies. She was simply better at hiding them.

He made his way over to her, nodding in greeting at the couple she had been talking to – a Gamemaker and his wife.

“Oh, Haymitch, there you are!” she exclaimed in delight, her cheek flushed and her eyes bright.

Tipsy.

Not good, given the circumstances.

“Was hoping for a dance.” he said quietly, turning on the charm because it couldn’t hurt. “You don’t mind if I borrow her for a moment, yeah?”

The Gamemaker and the wife offered no protest and Effie wrapped her arms around his, clearly pleased by the attention. She snuggled into his side a lot more than was clever given the audience.

“You had to choose today to get drunk at a party.” he chided, once they were safely on the dance floor, away from curious ears. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything too complicated and they could get away with simply swaying to the music.

“I barely had a flute of champagne.” she denied with a pout and then she giggled. “Perhaps I should not have drunk while taking those pills…”

“Those pills are going straight into the trash as soon as we’re back in the penthouse.” he ordered. “I need you focused.”

“I am focused.” she sulked and then admitted. “I may be really tired too.”

“Tell me about it…” he sighed, adjusting his grip on her waist so she could lean against his chest a little more without it being too obvious. “I’m gonna hunt down Cinna, then we grab the kids and we get out of here.”

She shook her head. “We need to stay at least another hour. We cannot afford to cause offense, not now.” He grunted because she was right but he also was desperate to collapse on his bed – or on hers, he had a vague idea he didn’t want to sleep alone that night. They swayed in silence for a little while and then she hummed “I had no idea that winning would be like this. I thought it would be all celebrating and partying… All I feel like doing is going to bed and sleep for the rest of the week.”

“I could sleep for a month.” he agreed, briefly letting go of her waist to rub his face. “No chance we will get a day off tomorrow, right?”

“The children have to appear on Caesar’s live show at ten.” she muttered. “Then we will all have to record interviews for Talia’s talk show. And then you and I will have to sit with Claudius for a joined interview.”

“And that’s only tomorrow.” he snorted.

There would be more days of that to come.

“I am so tired I cannot feel my body anymore…” she whispered.

They had been up and running after sponsors for weeks and he wouldn’t have had anything against a holiday. “Another hour and we’re out of here.”

“Another hour.” she repeated as if it was the golden goal.

“It is not that difficult!” Effie sighed in frustration. “You simply have to remember to keep count. Again. One, two, three and one, two, three and… No, Katniss! You have to let Peeta lead…”

Haymitch slouched on the armchair that had been dragged to the wall to clear a space in the middle of the penthouse’s living-room, trying not to be too obvious in his hilarity. Watching Effie whirl around the kids, waving her arms in the air to illustrate her advices, all the while trying to teach the children to waltz was hilarious.

They had started teaching them on the train but the Tour had demanded attention from everyone and there hadn’t been a lot of time for dancing lessons – something they were now regretting given the speed at which the victory ball at the Presidential Mansion was approaching. Victors were expected to open that ball and given that the kids had just announced their engagement…

Effie was falling apart over their victors’ lack of talent on a dance floor.

It wasn’t exactly Peeta’s fault. Not only was he handicapped by his leg but Katniss was like a straight rod of wood in his arms.

“No, no, no! Stop! This is no use.” Effie lamented, tossing her arms high only to let them fall in defeat. “It should not look so… So…”

“Awkward?” Haymitch suggested, fishing a piece of ice from his glass and popping it in his mouth. He studied Peeta and Katniss in turn. The boy looked put-off and the girl was staring at her feet, arms crossed defensively in front of her chest. “You’re in love. Try to act the part.”

Katniss’ head shot up and she glared at him. “I’m doing my best.”

“You’re stiff and you’re moving like you’ve got a giant stick in your ass.” he shrugged.

“Haymitch!” Effie snapped. “There is no need for your usual brand of vulgarity, thank you very much.”

“It’s a waltz, it’s supposed to be stiff.” the girl retorted. “Effie lectured us for two hours about proper dancing and stuff.”

“Now, that is not what I said at all…” their escort protested.

“We have to stay at a certain distance and keep a straight back and…” Katniss shot back.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you have to look like a breadboard.” Haymitch shook his head. “You know, waltzes were the most romantic dance once upon a time, yeah? Really scandalous too.” Effie let out a noise that was halfway between a snort and a huff and he looked at her with annoyance. “What?”

“Nothing.” she dismissed. “You talking about romance…”

“I know a thing or two about romance.” he argued with a pointed smirk. When he made the effort. He turned his attention back to the kids. “Look, the distance is the whole point, yeah? You don’t want to keep that distance. You want to be closer.”

“But Effie said…” Katniss argued.

“Forget about what Effie said.” he scoffed.

“Lovely.” Effie commented. “Well, if you think you would be a better teacher, please be my guest. I have done what I could.”

He rolled his eyes and hauled himself out of the armchair, finishing his glass in one long mouthful.

“Watch and learn.” he muttered to the kids.

And without any warning whatsoever, he grabbed Effie by the waist and pulled her in his arms. She squealed in surprise but soon adjusted with a small annoyed glare. She placed her hand on his shoulder and let him outstretch her other arm so they would be in position like they had done so many times before.

They started moving in perfect synchronicity. She followed his lead and they went through the steps slowly so the children could watch.

“Alright, see?” he called out after a minute of that. “We start at the right distance ‘cause it’s all proper and shit.”

“Language.” Effie grumbled for the second time.

He ignored her, sliding the hand that was resting on her hip to the small of her back, forcing her a little closer.

“Then, after a minute or so, you pull her closer, Peeta, yeah? Cause you can’t bear to be so far from her anymore. Cause that’s how people in love feel.” he instructed.

“Oh, is that what you were trying to convey all those years with that little move?” Effie muttered under her breath, low enough that the kids wouldn’t catch it. “And there I thought you were just trying to get me into your bed.”

“Shush.” he told her pointedly. “See how Effie’s not looking anywhere but in my eyes, Katniss?”

“How am I supposed to know where to put my feet if I’m looking at Peeta?” the girl replied.

“I don’t care.” he retorted, never leaving his escort’s gaze. “You’re dancing, you’re in love, it’s all magical… He’s the only thing that exists for you. Forget your fucking feet. I ain’t looking at my feet and I’m drunk.”

He wasn’t drunk but Katniss didn’t need to know that.

Effie wasn’t fooled though and her lips twitched in amusement. She stepped a little closer too, resolutely breaking the codes of the dance. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder as they adjusted their speed to something a little more natural for a waltz.

“Easy for you to say. You’re leading!” the girl complained.

“I wouldn’t let you fall.” Peeta protested.

“Trust me, Katniss, if Haymitch managed to never trip me, Peeta certainly won’t.” Effie huffed.

“You make it look so easy.” the boy remarked, half impressed and half depressed.

“We have a lot of practice.” their escort cajoled, briefly glancing at him over her shoulder as Haymitch led her for another tour of the room.

“At waltzing like you’re in love?” Peeta teased.

Haymitch made Effie twirl under his arm and released her, turning to the boy with his mouth set in a hard line. “At dancing together, smartass.” He waved at the kids. “Try again.”

He slumped back in his armchair, not quite surprised when Effie perched herself on the armrest. Her short dress rode high on her thighs, tempting him with the shimmering fabric of her stockings.

The kids were busy trying to apply what Haymitch had just showed them and weren’t paying them any attention so he risked it and placed his hand on her leg.

“For all your claims, I believe you do enjoy dancing.” Effie hummed quietly.

“Only with the right partner, sweetheart.” he smirked.

Haymitch leaned against the doorframe of their living-room, smiling to himself as he watched an oblivious Effie wriggle and sing out loud to the music that spilled from the stereo. A music he had been able to hear from the backyard and that he had initially come in to tell her to lower it down a little because he doubted the neighbors wanted to know what her taste in music was.

She was too cute though.

She was shaking her head left and right, her arms high above her head…

He wondered what it said about him that he found her so sexy when she was wearing woolen socks up to her knees, a baggy long-sleeve shirt that belonged to him and shapeless boxers. Maybe it was the fact that every item of clothing belonged to him. Maybe it was the fact that she trusted him enough to wander around the house not looking all dolled up anymore. Maybe it was just the crazy way she was shimmying to that music like she was twenty instead of almost forty.

She spotted him eventually and he lifted his eyebrows, the smirk impossible to fight. The look of surprise on her face soon morphed into a grin and it wasn’t long before she advanced on him. He tried to escape but she was determined and soon she had dragged him to the middle of the living-room, their fingers entwined together as she waved both of their hands in the air. He refused to wriggle but he humored her twirling and squirming in front of him.

Eventually, the song turned into another slower one and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They swayed slowly for a while until he started nuzzling her cheek, brushing his lips against her jaw…

“What about another kind of dancing?” he mumbled in her ear, sneaking his hands inside her shirt.

She laughed and flashed him a bright smile. “How can I say no? It is my favorite kind.”

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #pre games #games time #74th hg #victory tour #post mj #about e past #fighting hayffie #fluff #teapot #tipsy effie #dark side of h #jealousy #dancing hayffie

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brotherjaybird · 7 years

Text

Injustice 2 Quotes

(All fake).

Just a few scenarios I dreamed up involving characters that didn’t make it into Injustice 2.

Tara "Terra" Markov

VS Deathstroke Introductions D: Well, well, if it isn't my... protege. T: Well, well, if it isn't Daddy Deathstroke. D: You were such a good study.

T: Oh, good, it's the limp fish. D: Nothing personal, but you're a liability. T: Why? Don't want me to spread it around?

T: I don't want anything to do with you. D: You have no idea what you want. T: I'll start with your head on a spike.

T: Oh, look, my teenage mistakes all in one place. D: I showed you what you could be. T: Yeah, but could you have shown me a more exciting time?

T: Garfield was right about you. The whole time. D: Ah, but is he right about you? T: ...You go to Hell.

Clashes D: So what hole'd you crawl out of? T: The one I dug myself! D: I taught you everything, brat. T: Hey, Mr. WIIILSON! This is how you PUNCTURE someone! D: I'm hard to kill. T: Hard to get rid of, anyway. T: I'm nothing like you. D: Not in the good ways. T: I'm DONE with you, Slade! D: You act like a hunted animal. VS Cyborg Introductions C: Man, if it isn't just a parade of unexpected faces. T: What, you see any other ghosts of your past? C: If I didn't know better, I'd say you look a little green.

T: Well, look who's outta the hospital! C: Don't pretend you care, witch. T: Hey, I care! Wasn't even gonna mention that new car smell.

Clashes T: Tell me where you saw Garfield! C: What, the ex got you all hot and bothered? C: Do you know why he did this to me? T: I bet you got in Garfield's way.

VS Raven Introductions T: Oh, look who it is, the one-woman pity-party. R: The advice of loved ones should not be cast aside so lightly. T: Ugh. Why does Gar care so much about your opinion?

T: Wow, and people called me a traitor. R: You mock only because you do not comprehend. T: Chicken Soup called! They want their sob story back.

Clash R: You broke Garfield's heart. T: You should let him off the leash./Oh, so he's "Garfield", now? T: Not so sexy on the inside, are you? R: I will carve out your tongue!

Rachel "Raven" Roth

VS Dr. Fate Introductions F: Wherefore does the Princess of Perdition step into the domain of Fate? R: Order is order, regardless of the binding. F: Trigon's fickleness has caused untold disaster.

R: You know of the Changeling's and Terra's arrival. Speak. F: The fault lines of reality are shifting. R: I see why Gar hates it when I don't give a straight answer.

R: You will yield your secrets to me, willingly or otherwise. F: You know nothing of my arts. You cannot hope to defeat me. R: I'm a quick study.

Clashes F: The cosmos must have order! R: Then we have no quarrel. F: The lords of order speak true. R: Not even you believe that. R: Give me the knowledge I require. F: I do not serve tyrants. R: So the helmet feeds more lies to you? F: You know nothing of these matters!

VS Changeling Introductions R: You-- you're alive? C: Surprised to see me, Rae? R: No. Illusion or Delusion, you shouldn't be here.

R: So there is some truth to your story. C: Don't worry, it weirds me out, too. R: **giggles** It does my heart good to see you, Garfield Logan.

C: So, do I pass the Official Titan Test? R: I see naught but doom in you. C: 'Course you do, Rae. I'm a Patrolman, too.

C: So you never mentioned you were living with your Dad again. R: Your safety is guaranteed here. I mean it. C: Enough to fight him if you have to?

R: So. I see you reject my hospitality. C: The fancy cell in Castle Trigon was nice, but I'm homesick. R: Garfield, I cannot allow you to confront her.

Clashes C: Loser buys lunch? R: Are you ever serious? R: Forever putting your head into the lion's jaws. C: Too bad for the lions, huh? C: Our line of work is always dangerous. R: I will not abide the loss of another friend. R: I can't lose anyone else! I won't! C: Raven, I've got to go now! R: You can't leave! NOT AGAIN! C: I'm gonna miss you, too, Rae.

Garfield "Changeling" Logan

VS Cyborg Introductions Cy: You, there! Freeze! I order you to back it up! Ch: Whoa, chill! What's wrong? Cy: You're wearing a dead man's face.

Ch: Wow. You guys are serious about this Regime thing. Cy: I know it's not easy to understand, Gar. Ch: The only thing I don't get is how you're the good guys.

Ch: You just got outta the hospital, Vic. Cy: None of this woulda happened if you hadn't broken out. Ch: I've got bigger worries than the New World Order.

Clashes Cy: You've got some explainin' to do. Ch: Wish I could, Victor. Ch: Why can't you leave it alone? Cy: You wouldn't come peacefully! Ch: You gotta understand this ain't personal. Cy: It feels pretty damn personal.

VS Atrocitus Introductions A: You'd make a fine addition to the Corps. C: I've already served with two outfits. Three just seems greedy. A: Ahh, then I must be imagining Nekron's influence.

Clashes A: You reek of the unliving. C: I could really use a shower.

VS Mento Introductions M: So you've finally come back to the Patrol. Must be looking for some real action. C: I certainly didn't come back for the memories. M: Heh. It's certainly been gloomy without you.

C: The gauntlets are new. Something to balance the helmet? M: And what's wrong with the helmet? C: Oh, my God, Dad.

M: Things have changed since you've been gone. C: I... I heard I have a sister, now. She a good kid? M: Holly adores your every story.

C: It's weird to think I got my start here. M: You were wasted on the Titans. C: Heh. Didn't know you cared.

M: And when were you going to tell me? C: I was hoping I wouldn't ever have to. M: I'm your father. I know when you're lying to me.

Clashes M: You have no DISCIPLINE! C: YOU HAVE NO HEART! M: How can you expect to save the world? C: I just want it to be worth saving! M: If you have a job to do, then DO IT! C: You say that like it's easy! C: Would you just LAY OFF? M: Get your head in the game! C: I'm not afraid of dying! M: Because you're Doom Patrol!

VS Terra Introductions T: Don't try to stop me, Logan. It won't work. C: Sheesh, what's gotten INTO you? T: They call it a heart of stone.

T: Doctor, doctor! I feel the madness coming back! C: Cut the crap, Tara. You know exactly what you're doing. T: God, you would've been so good at roleplay.

C: If you don't stop, people are going to get hurt. T: It was 'people' who ruined my life, Garfield! C: You can stop this before it gets worse, Tara!

T: Why? Why are you so persistent? C: Time's up, Tara. We've got to go. T: I am not going back. You can't make me!

T: What kind of animal can come back to life? C: I made the arrangement to bring you back. T: Oh, now I get it! You're just a lapdog.

C: I thought that diamonds were a girl's best friend. T: Not since I created the Lazarite crystals. C: Yeah, thing is, Nekron calls that grand larceny.

Clashes C: Kicking up another fuss, Terra? T: But you know I'm noisy at night! C: I'm begging you, Tara! Stop it! T: God, I love it when you beg. T: I've got the madness in me! **cackle** C: You're not crazy, you're just blind. T: The world won't love you back, Garfield. C: It's not the world I'm worried about. C: It's time to go back, Tara. T: NO! I am not dying again! T: Tell Nekron he can kiss my ass! C: We can tell him together.

VS Black Hand Introductions BH: And what would the Red's orphan child seek of Nekron? C: The opportunity to hunt down a lost soul. BH: To act in service of death? Intriguing.

C: So I get a whole week to get the crystals back, right? BH: Fail to obtain them, and the unliving hordes will follow. C: So that's the catch.

BH: You destroyed the Lazarite crystals! You deceived Nekron! C: He don't know me very well, do he? BH: There will be nothing left of you for Heaven!

Clashes BH: And what drives you to serve Nekron? C: My beasts just want to hunt again. C: So Nekron has no interest in the stones? BH: Nekron’s plans are no concern of yours! C: And I can't ask for help? BH: We thought you a mighty hunter! BH: MONGREL! VERMIN! CUR! C: Ain't I a stinker?

#dc comics #injustice #injustice 2 #beast boy #terra #raven #cyborg #deathstroke #mento #black hand #teen titans #regime #bbrae #bbterra #doom patrol #my work #my writing

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saniika · 7 years

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do u have fav writers in yoi then? not one fanfic you like, but some writers who you keep coming back to or look forward to more stuff from? trying to find some good consistent writers

@lacycandy - AO3: the madness started with them. The most frustrating work in YOI fandom for me. While it has the most intense gentleman Victor I fell hard for, their characters are very realistic and oh god, Yuuri - he is SO Japanese it makes me physically hurting. It works so well. You ache and strive for them to get a single caress or a glance. A kiss is like a golden medal. Its worth the torture. Great aus and imaginative storytelling.

@captain-erwinmerica - AO3: their work is always having strong, independent characters, who clash with a bang once they meet. I find enjoying their getting to know each other, like walking on hot glass plate…bare feet. Attention dripping, tension laden and very passionate. Darker approach on aus, imagine passionate maddening love, this is what you’ll look for. Well written action scenes and inner psychology. If I could describe them with two words: intense observer.

@borntomake - AO3: writing for canon while adding their own touch, you feel great love and respect for the characters. Owning the story and characters while not twisting them. Feels very natural - realistic, exciting, but not oppressive

fishydip at AO3: unique aus, kind victor, canon divergence - very soothing and positive style

@flammablehat - AO3: - very realistic and saturated style, very explicit to the point of being raw, yet not vulgar - even if vulgarity is used. They make anything feel natural and shed you of feeling guilty or abandon your reservation? No matter the length of the work or rating. Insightful views and I love that the characters show deep care for each other.

@ingthing - AO3: romantic slice of life style of work, physical is less important, but doesnt make it any less invested for the reader? Id say its like watching romantic movies with Jenifer Lopez? In a good way?

@grassepi - AO3: very charming and cute style, the go to if you want to feel good, they inspired me to work on my own Hanahaki au

LilianRoses at AO3: creative style in fantasy department, adorable character representation

@phyona - AO3: intense sexy timez, very emotional and rewarding slow burn, makes you feel very invested for the characters

@feels-like-fire - AO3: exquisite story building, masterful work on planning out gradation, very good fantasy aus. Great work on psychological mechanism of the characters.

@little-lost-star-1 - AO3: one of the most unique author in fandom and very underrated, quite frankly I found them through one work, which I’d avoid from miles and yet was convinced to persevere. I am the most (un)happy Yakov fangirl ever. I cry myself to sleep every night I shall never have that glorious man. And hes not even focus of their writing. Imagine how Victor and Yuuri are like. If dogs would read their fiction, they would lust after Makkachin and want his puppies. I am a slave to this person, I draw fanarts for each new chapter (within the same day…help)

@lemonyoi - AO3: creative style with lots of sensual in focus, Id say its a good way to start exploring the diversity of sexy timez in fics, if you’re worried you wont like it or handling it. I appreciate the trust they have in each other and live a healthy intense relationship - with ever present love. And I don’t understand how the author does not get repetitive with each new chapter. It stays electric and laden with tension.

@lucycamui - AO3: there is noone around in the fandom like them, Id say they are raunchy cute. While their writing is cute and funny, the characters are natural and sometimes hit way to hard to my homebase. And surprisingly they can write angst. Very skilled with psychology of the characters, witty dialogs, smart exchanges and playful plots. A joyful ride. T

@dreamaginarium - AO3: too humble writer for their own good and Id say they belong to the same tribe like Lucy above. Their style is very natural and kind towards the character. The kindness and situation will bring you to tears and sore throat from laughter. You’ll beg for more.

@phaytesworld - AO3: incredibly giving and interactive writer, she is like hydrating watermelon, but squeezes the lemon, aka the crap life gives you, making the sweetest lemonade! Gift which keeps on giving. I tried many pairs and things with her stuff, it’s big trust I put into her and there is practically no comfort zone I have to guard. Lots of fics and sooo little confidence.

@qwertzu824 - AO3: my IRL friend who fries me as my beta so that I can taste at least as a half believable grilled cheese. She is great fun to read, imaginative and it’s just joy to follow her fics. She is fun too! Made me read an yoi oc-fic too!

In general if you see me drawing a fanart to something, bank on that I am recommending it.

And I am sad because this ask limits me to people with several fictions. So I had to skip one fic people and people from which I did not read more than one work….

All these authors use specific tags and ratings so I did not include them here in the list. Please be discreet at your own caution.

Enjoy!!!

#recommendations #recs #fanfiction #writers #yoi #yuri on ice #Anonymous #answers #should really update this

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lesbianlametron · 8 years

Text

Victuuri week day 3

Title: Imitation is the Best Form of Flattery

Author: asliverofhope-the-fangirl

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None

Summary: Even after winning silver at the GPF, Yuuri still lacks confidence in his skating ability. Desperate to find a way for Yuuri to gain confidence Victor adopts the fake until you make it idea. He tells Yuuri to imitate a person with confidence. Yuuri really gets into character and Victor may regret his idea.

((I almost made it on time, but I had to wait until I got and had internet to post it. I used all three prompts today. Yuuri- doubt/reassurance, Victor- regret, and role-reversal I hope you like it!))

Victor stood back from Yuuri a bit and watching him practice. He was a bit disappointed that Yuuri was still so inconsistent. Even after a year together, Yuuri’s confidence still wasn’t where he expected it would be. Yes, they had both been disappointed that Yuuri’s medal hadn’t been gold, but Yuuri placed, he set a record for his free skate. He landed a quad flip, but in practice he was still on landing it less than half the time. “Yuuri…” Victor called and skated over to him, stopping him mid routine. “I know you have confidence. I saw out there on the ice during the Grand Prix Final. You changed your routine so it would have the highest difficulty possible. What’s bothering you?”

“What if that was my peak? I know you want me to win gold, but I can’t beat you. Not in your top form.”

Victor sighed and thought for a moment and then an idea struck him. Maybe if Yuuri could fake confidence he’d eventually believe it. “Think about the most confident person you know. How would they skate? I know you liked playing a character when you skate. You became the woman who seduced the young playboy. I know you can do that.”

Yuuri slowly closed his eyes and thought about Victor. Now that they were living alone together, he knew more about Victor than ever before. He knew Victor was an insane morning person, but only after his coffee. Victor loved cuddling in bed and sometimes Yuuri felt smothered between Victor and Makkachin. He liked to walk around in his towel longer than necessary after a shower because he knew it drove Yuuri crazy. Victor was actually a horrible cook but was always eager to attempt a new recipe. Attempt being the operative word, Yuuri usually had to kick Victor out of the kitchen. While in the shower, Victor loved to sing even if he was sometimes off pitch. When Victor didn’t think Yuuri was around, he talked to Makkahin about how much he loved Yuuri. Having come home early, Yuuri walked in on it and it was terribly embarrassing.

Yuuri opened his eyes again and skated in a slow circle. He made himself as tall as possible and extended a hand out to Victor. “Hello, Victor! Starting today, I’m going to be your coach.”

From across the rink they heard a snort and they both turned to see Yuri watching them. “That was your attempt at Victor’s accent? Not bad actually.” Yuri smirked at Victor. “You captured him perfectly, but if you’re going to screw around, leave. I need to practice too, you jerks.”

Victor sent a playful glare in Yuri’s direction and skated over to Yuuri. He batted his eyelashes at Yuuri and wrapped his arms around his waist. “You picked me, that’s so cute Yuu-chan.” Victor cooed using Yuuri’s nickname in public, making Yuuri blush a little.

“Of course he did. You’re the most overconfident person we know.” Yuri shot back, using every excuse to make fun of Victor.

Yuuri pushed away from Victor, “Later, Victor. I have to work on my own routines too. I have to get in all the practice time I can. I have a record to beat as well as being your coach. Maybe I’ll put two quad flips in my routine. I have a record to uphold.”

“Hah! You can hardly land one, piggy, how will you land two?” Yuri mocked. It pissed him off, but he actually wanted to see Yuuri do it. He had to beat Yuuri at his best.

“Two quad flips, Yuuri? With your stamina I know you can do it. I’ll try my best to beat you.” Victor blinked up at Yuuri, giving Yuuri his best star-struck stare.

“Was that supposed to be me?” Yuuri dropped his persona for a minute at stared at Victor.

“If you two make fun of each other, it leaves less for me to do.” Yuri snapped at them.

“I think I nailed it perfectly, Yuu-chan. Who knows you better than your fiancé?”

Yuuri cleared his throat and slipped back into his parody of Victor. “You better watch, Vitya. I’m going to win this year’s gold.” Yuri skated a perfect spread eagle, stretching his arms to make them look longer than they were. Victor couldn’t take his eyes off Yuuri if he tried. He liked watching Yuuri’s spread eagles, they flexed the muscles in Yuuri’s arms and back just right. He almost wished Yuuri would skate shirtless. Yuuri lifted his arm as he jumped to up the difficulty and landed a perfect quad flip. Victor was nearly brought to tears again. It hadn’t looked that beautiful since the final.

“Yuuri! That was beautiful. I knew you could.”

“Naturally, I am a five-time Grand Prix gold medalist. I can’t let my student beat me, so I will take his signature move and do it better.” Yuuri smirked at Victor and winked.

“Victor…what have you done?” Yuri was stunned to say the least. That quad flip was perfect and with the added difficulty…if Yuuri could really land it twice, they were all in trouble. Yuri cleared his throat and regained his composure. “With all that practice he’s bound to land it eventually. Not like he’d be able to do it twice in a row.”

Victor was about to scold Yuri for putting Yuuri down, but he remembered Minako’s words. Yuuri really doesn’t like to lose. “True, he hasn’t landed it twice in a row before.”

Yuuri turned toward Victor and smiled dangerously at him. Victor gasped and it sent a shiver up his spine. It was reminiscent of the look he’d given Yuri on the beach in Barcelona when he had insulted Yuuri. “Of course, I can. I’m Yuuri Katsuki.” He said it in such a Victor-like way that Victor had to press his lips together to keep himself of snickering. It was slightly insulting, but also very endearing at the same time. This time Yuuri did a combination spin to gain speed and executed another perfect quad flip. He spun on heel of his skate so he was facing Yuri and smirked at him. “Maybe I’ll put them both in the last half of my free skate. With my stamina, I could pull it off.”

“Are you insane? Well, whatever, Katsudon. You’re all talk anyway. We’ll see if you can actually pull it off. Times up, you’ve had the ice long enough.” Yuri was fuming but if anyone could pull that off, it would be Yuuri. He couldn’t beat Yuuri’s step sequences and if Yuuri continued to perfrom like he did in his free skate, Yuri wouldn’t be able to beat him. He doubted even if Victor could beat that. Then again, Victor wouldn’t mind losing to his fiancé. Ugh, they’re so gross. I’ll just have to bank on Katsudon messing up in competition. Even if this fake confidence helps him now, he’s still inconsistent in competition.

Yuuri turned and glided up to Victor, sliding his skate between Victor’s skates. He took Victor’s chin between his thumb and fingers, pressing their foreheads together. “Are you impressed, Vitya? Your coach may just pass you up. Let’s go home already.” He leaned and gave Victor a quick, but soft and sensual kiss.

“Save it for you home, assholes!”

Yuuri ignored Yuri’s protests and left the ice and leaving Victor wanting more. “It’s like Eros Yuuri with my confidence.” Victor murmured to himself as he followed Yuuri off the ice. He had to admit, he was shook to his core.

When Victor woke up the next morning, Yuuri wasn’t by his side. He reached to the other side of the bed to feel for lingering warmth, but the sheets had long gone cold. Yuuri got up earlier than me? What’s gotten into him? Victor stretched and pulled himself out of bed. “Yuuri?” He called out to the living room, but was only met with his own echo. He quickly got ready and headed to the rink. If Yuuri was anything like yesterday, his practice sessions would be worth seeing.

Victor heard the scraping of Yuuri’s blades on the ice when he entered the rink. He was about to call out his lover and tease him for being up so early, but the words died in his throat. The step sequences were not the ones Victor had choreographed from Yuuri only a few days ago. They were something he’d never seen before. Each flowed perfectly into the last and it looked like an elegant ballet mixed with a sexy ballroom dance. It reminded him a little of Pase Doble. Very masculine and strong mixed with the delicate ballet, both hard and soft elements. It definitely would keep the watcher on edge of their seats. “Yuuri? W-Where did you learn that?”

“I made it myself.” Yuuri smiled at him with a look of pride and Victor had to restrain himself. This confident side of Yuuri was really messing with him in all the right ways.

“What happened to the routine I made for you? It was the prefect compliment to my program for this year!”

“Vitya, as if I’d let anyone else choreograph my program. Besides, I need to surprise the judges and this routine is full of them, right?” Yuuri paused routine and skated to a stop right in front of Victor. “That with two quad flips will earn high scores. You might not even be able to beat me.”

Victor pressed his hands on the wall between them and sighed. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I? I didn’t even know you could choreograph.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Neither did I, but I don’t know, it just came to me. Did you like it? Do you really think it’s good?” He slipped out of his Victor impression as his uncertainty creeped up again.

“Yuuri…it was breath-takingly beautiful. I’m not even mad that I unlocked that in you.” Victor pulled Yuuri into a tight hug. “I’d be proud to lose to you like this. I love you and you still never fail to surprise me.”

“I did two consecutive quad flips yesterday…” Yuuri murmured into Victor’s neck like he was just realizing that the previous day was really real.

“You did! And you just choreographed your own routine. You better remember it because I think you really could win with it.”

“Don’t go acting like a coach on me now.” Yuuri chuckled and Victor laughed with him. That had become their thing now. Anytime Victor would act too much like a coach, he’d get scolded and they’d laugh about it together. “You liked your confidence on me, didn’t you? I could feel your eyes on me and we both know you’re not subtle.”

Victor shook his head as a fond smile spread across his lips. “I did. Let’s go home and you can use your stamina in a different way.”

Yuuri gasped in feigned horror. “You’re so scandalous.”

“Come on, Yuu-chan.” Victor turned around to lead the way, but Yuuri grabbed Victor by the shoulder.

“You still haven’t given me a good morning kiss.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” Victor leaned in and kissed him. If Yuuri was anything in competition like he’d been the past couple of days, this was going to be interesting season.

#victuuriweek #yoi #yuri on ice #yuri!!! on ice #victuuri #day 3 #prompt: regret #prompt: reassurance and doubt #prompt: role reversal

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beautifullife-afterdeath · 7 years

Text

Testing Times

Lately I have been reflecting on my life and things that has happened to me. Mostly the bad things. I know that I shouldn't’t be thinking about them as much as I have. Here’s the thing. I have no one to talk to about them because they are so personal. But here I am. About to put it out in public so everyone can read. I doubt anyone will but still, there's always that chance. There are a few things that have happened in the last year that has really fucked me up and my mind. Honestly I find it so hard to trust anyone anymore. It’s a shame. I shouldn’t feel like everyone is going to do something bad to me and not trust them automatically just because of my past. No one really understands why I do this and it’s because they don’t know what has happened. They’ll never know unless they find this and figure out it’s me. So here we go

I met this guy. His name was Victor and he was honestly one of the most attractive people I have ever laid my eyes on and for someone like that to want me in anyway was just a shock to me. He was a little taller than me, dark blond longer hair, sexy as fuck beard and tattoos with the most gorgeous eyes that I have ever seen. When he would look me in the eyes it was like I was looking into the ocean and it was looking back at me. I developed feelings quite quickly for him which was a huge mistake. I knew that he only wanted to fool around and not be in a relationship. I understood this when we began what we were doing but it was hard not to fall for someone like that. He literally made me so happy. When I was ever feeling self conscious he would just look at me and tell me how beautiful I was and what I meant to this world. We messed around a lot and always used condoms. One day I remember not feeling very well. I was tired, throwing up, and just felt exhausted. I went to the doctors and that was when they told me that I had a miscarriage. My whole world completely stopped. They asked me if I knew I was even pregnant and I told them no. Even though I didn't know I felt something. There was a baby inside of me. A human. I broke down and started crying. I literally felt my world crash down. I went home and I stayed to myself. I didn’t talk to my roommates, my mom, or anyone. I called out of work for the next few days. Then I came to the realization I should probably tell Victor what had happened. I texted him and told him I needed to talk to him, so he came over to spend the night. We were a little intoxicated and I told him. I started crying and he just questioned it. He questioned me. Which hurt. I don’t mess around with other people if I’m messing around with one guy. He held me though. He held me so close. He tried comforting me. We fell asleep that night entangled up into each other. I felt safe. I felt okay. The next morning crushed me even more. He basically told me he didn’t want to see me anymore. He couldn’t handle what had happened. HE couldn’t handle it. I lost my shit when I seen him driving away. And that was the last time I seen or heard from him. To have someone leave you when you were at such a vulnerable stage hurts. It hurts so bad. I trusted that he would be there for me and help me through it but he left like I was nothing. I can’t stand the hurt anymore of people just leaving me. It’s hard to let people in anymore with the fear that they are going to do the same thing. They’re going to realize how I really am, or they’re going to find something they don’t like about me, or something is going to happened and they are just going to go. And leave me broken again.

That one hurt the most I think. To have someone to just leave me when I was like that. When I just dealt with something like that. What’s sad is worse has happened.

This happened about 2 years ago. I had met this guy and I started talking to him constantly and we really clicked. I thought that he was super chill and he wanted to hang out so I agreed. Stupid idea. I knew he wanted to drink but he had given me so much alcohol I was completely in cable of keeping myself upright. I couldn’t even stand on my own to go to the bathroom. I was not in any state to consent. But he took the opportunity to his full advantage. The last thing I remember was him pushing me onto the couch in his bedroom. The next morning I woke up in a bed with no clothes on. I just laid there not knowing what was going on or where I was. I could hear the shower going and then shut off. He had came in the room and threw some stuff on the bed not minding I was there. Then he told me he was going to fuck me again. Again? I didn’t realize that we already did. I told him no and that I wanted to leave. He got extremely mad at me and started complaining that I apparently didn’t mind lasts night. But last night I was 10 shots of whiskey deep and didn’t even know I had sex with him. I tried finding all of my clothes quickly because he was rushing me after pissing him off. I tried to find my glasses and that's pretty hard to do blind. He wasn’t willing to help because he was angry and wanted me gone. The car ride back was extremely quiet. He didn't say a word to me and I didn’t say a word to him. I got out of the car and went in my house automatically not even looking back. I was laying in bed trying my hardest to remember how the night had went but I still couldn’t think of anything that happened after he had pushed me onto his couch. I was in shock. He raped me. He knew I had no capability of consenting for myself. He knew damn well I was way too drunk to be doing that. I felt ashamed of myself. I felt like a loser, a failure, and regretted even thinking about going to see this guy. I didn’t tell anyone. I kept it to myself. I didn’t want to spread this with everyone because I didn't even want to know. I didn't want to report it because I didn’t want anyone to find out and usually, people don’t believe you. Even if you say something as serious as that, they usually don’t believe that it happened to you. I couldn't even believe it. So I carried the baggage with me. Never telling anyone it killed me. It haunted me. I had nightmares. I had flashbacks. Sometimes when I would see guys I would get scared that they were going to do the same thing to me. That they would just use me and take advantage of me. I stopped trusting guys and even cut off contact with most of the guys in my life. Even now I struggle with meeting people. Especially men. I’m still always scared to this day.

I could go on with the horrible stories that have happened to me but I’m pretty sure that I have gotten my point across with just two of them. My life has been pretty fucked up and here I set, a depressed fucking mess with no one to love the mess that I am. I have so many trust issues because of the things that have happened and I feel bad for those people who don’t deserve being treated that way I treat new people and that I don’t trust them. I usually don’t give anyone, especially guys the benefit of the doubt. I’m always afraid that someone is going to do something to me again. I’m scared the next time it’s going to be worse. Whatever it is. I’m scared that I’m going to get hurt again if I give someone my trust. It sucks. It really does. I always doubt people nd that’s usually a huge turn off for most people. People want you to trust them and trust that they’re not going to do something hurtful to you. But it’s hard. It’s hard to go through and experience the things that I have and not act the way that I do towards people. I feel really bad constantly. I regret everything that happened and that if I would have just did one thing different, then I would be a different person and maybe I would be able to have someone fully capable of loving me. If I didn't know up to that guys house, he couldn't of done what he did to me. If I wouldn’t of slept with that guy that night it wouldn’t of happened to me. I always blame myself because it is my fault. I shouldn't of done the things that I have done and maybe I would be okay.

Except now I’m a fucking mess.

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kaleidoscopephilosophy-blog · 7 years

Text

Wasted Time

“Well, yeah, it’s Saturday night! Of course I’m going out.”

After all, only the nerds and the losers stay in on weekends. If you’re not getting absolutely smashed every Friday and Saturday night, what are you doing with your life? As they say, you only have the college experience once, and I’m sure as hell not going to blow it.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe, just this once, we could try something different, maybe something new and exciting, like--” says Veronica.

“Like going to that huge party at Sigma Pi everyone’s been talking about? It’s gonna be absolutely lit, trust me,” I interject.

Justin and Richie nod vigorously in agreement, and Richie spills some beer on his shirt.

“Aw, fuck, man,” he grumbles. “Not again!”

“You fuckin’ klutz,” laughs Justin, elbowing Richie, who spills more beer.

“Shut up, dickhead!” says Richie, shoving Justin. Justin pushes back, and a sluggish shoving match ensues.

“Guys, stop it!” Veronica squeals, forcing herself between the two sweaty young men. They glare at each other, then move to opposite sides of the dorm room. Richie quickly downs his beer and grabs another, popping it open and pouting. Justin goes back to playing beer pong with Olivia, Susan, and Mary. Mary edges away from Justin when he stands a little too close to her.

“Look, I get that you’re excited about this party, but we’ve gone to a frat party every weekend night for the past two months! Doesn’t it ever start to get a bit stale for you?” says Veronica.

I look at her incredulously, exchanging glances with Victor and Richie, who smirk back at me.

“Stale? Are you kidding? Boundless booze and breathtaking broads as far as the eye can see… to me, that’s paradise,” I reply. Richie laughs. “I would party every night if I could. Hey, Justin, pass me another beer, would ya?”

As Justin tosses me a cold one, Veronica opens her mouth to respond.

“Yeah, ‘paradise.’ Huge, hairy guys grabbing at your body and drooling on your hair in a sweltering room with music blasting at some ungodly high volume… it doesn’t get much better than that, does it, Aaron?”

“Hey, you looked like you were having fun last night! Who was that guy you hooked up with? Michael?” I say.

“Matthew. And ew, no! He was disgusting! I had to physically push him away multiple times before he took the hint,” she says. “Besides, I haven’t hooked up with anyone since Jason, so stop making up things that didn’t happen.”

“You really should get yourself back out there, Ver,” Mary yells over from the beer pong table. “You’re hot! It’d be hard to find a guy who wouldn’t want to hook up with you, and you know it!”

Veronica blushes, and I can’t help but stare at her tantalizing brown eyes. I swear, they’re like whirlpools, pulling in whatever hapless young sailor happens to be passing by and spitting him out whole before he can even sink past the surface. Maybe one day, if she’d just give me a chance, she would finally see that I--

“Thanks, boo, but you know I can’t just do that with a total stranger… it’s too weird for me. Call me crazy, but that’s just how I am,” says Veronica.

“Whatever you say, girlie,” yells Olivia, sinking a shot over at the pong table. As she shrieks with delight and high fives Susan, I take careful note of her voluptuous figure. I can’t wait to get to the party, where I know I’ll be surrounded by dozens of scantily-clad Olivias. It’s genius that frats let them in for free. Thank the lord sororities can’t have parties. What a genius system. It’s like a fuckin’ harem every night! Take your pick! Enjoy the buffet!

“Well, you can’t complain anyway,” I say. “You guys get in for free. We have to pay.”

“Still, frats are gross,” says Veronica. “If I were a boy, I wouldn’t pay to get into one of those pissholes.”

“You claim to be a feminist, Veronica,” says Victor, “but I haven’t heard you say a peep about the blatant misogyny inherent in the fraternity system. Same with you, Susan.”

Susan flips him off.

“Oh, shut up, Victor,” I say. “I’m too drunk for your big words, and no one wants to talk about fuckin’ politics and shit right now.”

“Dude, it’s a serious issue! In my eyes, at least, but no one wants to talk about it because everyone would rather just get drunk and have sex every weekend without thinking twice,” he says.

“That’s exactly right, Victor,” says Justin, grinning as he sinks yet another shot into a red solo cup. He tries to hug Mary, but she pushes him away, grimacing. Justin shrugs, and Mary takes another shot of tequila.

“Dude, admit it, you’re just bitter because you don’t drink and you can’t get girls,” says Richie, drunkenly attempting to open his sixth beer of the evening.

“You know I’m saving myself for marriage!” exclaims Victor, blushing. Everyone bursts out in laughter.

“What? When I told Father Flanagan, he said I was making a very intelligent choice, and that I’m ‘truly wise beyond my years,’” Victor says smugly. “Stop laughing!”

“I can’t believe you actually believe all that horseshit they force down your throat in church,” says Justin, sneering. “Becoming an atheist was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, and it makes listening to you people spew your fairy tale garbage fuckin’ hilarious!”

“I have a personal relationship with Christ, Justin,” says a steely Victor. “And I think you could really benefit from one, too.”

“‘Personal fuckin’ relationship with fuckin’ Christ,’” says Justin, laughing hysterically. “Oh, loving and merciful Lord, forgive Victor for being such a fuckin asshat!”

“Alright, alright, enough!” shouts Veronica, waving her arms in the air as if she is attempting to fly away. “Let’s all just try to be friends, okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough politics and religion for a full month,” I add, grinning at Veronica. She doesn’t return my smile. Even in her angered state, she is so incredibly sexy.

“Alright, who’s ready to go? We’ve been pre-gaming for almost two hours now,” says Susan impatiently. Ah, pre-gaming. Another absolutely genius invention. Getting drunk before you actually get to the party saves so much time. It lets you cut right to chase, jump right in, if you catch my drift. You still drink at the party, of course, but you’ll already be drunk when you arrive. Then comes either the post-game, or, even better, the coveted hook-up.

“Yeah, we can go now,” I say as Victor pushes past me, reaching for the door handle.

“Fuck all of you,” he says, flipping us off. “I’m staying in tonight to watch SNL.”

“Whatever you say, man,” says Justin, laughing. He bumps fists with Richie.

Victor shakes his head and slams the door. I wait a few moments, then open it as we all file into the hallway.

“What the hell was his problem?” asks Olivia, looking puzzled.

“Something to do with him not being able to get girls,” says Justin, laughing.

“You don’t have to be such a dick all the time, you know,” says Veronica, frowning.

“He’s a fuckin’ Jesus freak, Veronica! You heard him!” says Justin, gesturing in the general direction of Victor’s room.

“You should at least respect his beliefs, Justin,” she curtly replies, not making eye contact.

“Goddamn. The world’s gone mad. I need another beer,” says Justin, sighing loudly.

“So, anyway,” says Susan, attempting to ease the tension, “did I tell you guys about the guy who wore a gorilla suit to my Art History lecture on Thursday?”

“Wha-- no! Do tell!” says Mary.

As Susan tells her story, I zone out as I stare at her perfect ass, hidden somewhere under those flowery green hippie pants. She’s gorgeous, despite the fact that she never wears makeup or washes her long, curly brown hair. She seems to be convinced she’s living in the 1960s; I mean, she wears a fucking dandelion in her hair nearly every day! And she’s so smart, too. Valedictorian of her high school, even though she’d never tell you. She doesn’t really drink, though, and surprisingly, she’s not into weed, either. She’s a bona fide hippie, but doesn’t smoke pot! Unbelievable, I know. It’s too bad, really. Doesn’t ever hook up with guys, either. It’s her life, I guess, and don’t get me wrong, I respect her choices! I just don’t get it.

Before long, we make it to Sigma Pi. The line’s a little long, but we’ve been hearing all week about how lit this party is supposed to be, so we decide to wait. A few people step out of line; one of them is puking. Pathetic, I know.

Finally, we get to the door. As I reach into my wallet for ten dollars, the girls walk in. The four frat bros at the door check each of them out, nodding with approval. I envy these frat guys. They have it all: a free ticket to parties every weekend, girls to hook up with whenever they want, and, best of all, a real, genuine brotherhood. I kick myself for not rushing a frat this year. Next semester, I vow to myself.

I hand one of the guys my $10, and he stamps my hand. I walk in, flanked by Justin and Richie, and scan the basement for the bar. The music is blasting, as expected, and the whole room reeks of weed. For such a wonderful plant, marijuana really does smell terrible when it burns. As we make our way through the sea of inebriated dancing students, I spot Mary and Olivia, but I don’t see the bar.

“Yo, dude, check out that girl over there,” says Richie, gesturing toward the corner of the room, where a tan latina dressed in all white is dancing like a fuckin’ stripper on a pole. Why the hell is there a pole down here? Only in college, I guess.

“Damn, bro,” says Justin, unable to avert his stare. He makes brief eye contact with the latina, who winks and beckons him toward her. In a matter of seconds, he is dancing beside her in a proximity that would make Victor’s Father Flanagan cringe.

“Looks like we lost him for the night,” remarks Richie, laughing.

“Yeah,” I say, only half paying attention to his comment. “Hey, where’s the bar? I need to chug a few beers.”

Some tall older guy with round John Lennon sunglasses who is passing by overhears me and points toward the far corner of the room, opposite of where Justin is getting his lap dance.

“It’s over there, brah,” he says. “Hey, brah, you smoke?” He is holding a blunt in his hand, and he pushes it in my direction. I nod, staring at his bright red dreadlocks. Only in college.

“Take a hit, brodie,” he says, grinning.

“Uh-- alright, man,” I stammer. “Thanks.” I take a hit and begin to cough, prompting a laugh from my new pal.

“You a freshman?” he asks, taking back his blunt.

“Yeah,” I answer. He laughs again.

“I can tell,” he says, still grinning. He takes another hit, then offers me the blunt for a second time. I try again, this time managing not to break into a coughing fit like an idiot. I turn around to see what Richie is making of the Bob-Marley-look-alike, but he isn’t there. I do a quick scan of the room and spot him about twenty yards away, dancing with a very drunk frumpy blonde.

“Look, brah,” says Redlocks. (Genius, I know. Red + dreadlocks = Redlocks.) “These bitches don’t want nothin’ to do with some awkward freshman. You gotta have confidence, brodie. Swagger. Watch.”

Redlocks hands me his blunt and walks toward the stripper-dancer latina girl. I pocket it and look on as he grabs her by the hips and pulls her away from Justin, who stares open-mouthed as she begins to grind on the very tall newcomer. I can’t help but laugh. Redlocks pulls her closer to him, and the two of them start making out. He opens his eyes and winks at me, raising his right arm above the latina’s head and pointing at her as if to say, “Look, kid. This is how you do it.” Wow. Maybe this guy does know what he’s talking about. Just then, Justin spots me and stumbles over in a huff.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” he asks me angrily. I can only point at Redlocks and the latina, awestruck by what has just transpired.

“So you saw what that fuckin’ asshole did with my girl?” he demands, his fists balled up. “I was supposed to be the one making out with her, not that fuckin’ giraffe!”

“Dude, that guy is some kind of magician or something,” I say softly. Justin doesn’t hear me.

“Fuck!” he yells. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

As he makes off for the bar, I wonder if I can manage to pull off what this genius with red dreadlocks has just accomplished. Scanning the room, I spot my target in a matter of seconds. She’s a petite brunette, complete with a round ass and a stunning rack. She’s dancing on a short, stocky guy with a buzz cut, who is decked out in a green sleeveless shirt with a skull on the front and tan khaki shorts. I make my way over, forcing myself to continue on my mission with every nervous step. If Redlocks could do it, so can I.

She glances at me for a second, and I realize I am staring directly at her. I avert my gaze, but continue to walk toward her until I am standing right next to her. Before I make my move, I take a quick look around the room. I see Mary and Olivia dancing with the frat guys who let us in over in the corner. Justin is drinking a beer beside them, sulking. Richie is still with that blonde, who looks like she may puke or pass out at any minute. I take a deep breath, then turn toward my target and grab her by the hips.

Before I can pull her onto my waist, she slaps at my hands and pushes me away. Shit.

“Hey!” yells the guy with whom she was just dancing. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I break into a cold sweat. The guy advances toward me menacingly, and the petite brunette steps behind him.

“Uh, well, you see, I was just, um, trying to, uh--” I stammer, not sure how I will finish the sentence. By now, one of his friends has walked up next to him, a nearly-empty beer bottle in hand. Don’t ask me how I notice the amount of beer left in the bottle in the heat of the moment; I’m just very observant, I guess. He glares at me, and they both take another step toward me.

“Trying to what, you fuckin’ perv?” he asks. They take another step, and I realize I’m backed up against the wall. A small crowd has started to form around us, perhaps sensing that a fight may be imminent.

“You think you can just walk up and grab someone’s girlfriend?” he asks, more loudly this time. “Huh? You think you’re fuckin’ Donald Trump or somethin’?”

I laugh nervously, then quickly realize that was a mistake. His face turns red with anger, and he grabs the beer bottle out of his friend’s hand. My god. He’s going to hit my with the bottle. Why the fuck did I ever think this idea would work? How the hell did Redlocks pull it off? This is supposed to be the ‘college experience,’ isn’t it? Everyone gets wasted out of his or her mind, then guys get to go out and fuck whatever girls they choose, right? That’s how it’s supposed to be! That’s how it is in the fuckin’ movies!

As my tirade of confused and angry thoughts culminates, I notice that a really big crowd has materialized around us. Some of the frat guys are chanting for us to fight. The guy I’ve pissed off thrusts the beer bottle over his shaved head and cathartically screams. I notice a tattoo of a machine gun on his arm. Lovely. I also notice the toned muscle around that tattoo and gulp with trepidation.

“Aaron!” Someone is yelling my name. I look out into the crowd to try to find the source of the shouting.

“Aaron! Aaron!” It’s Veronica. She is jumping up and down, frantically waving her arms in an effort to get my attention. I make eye contact with her. The fear in her eyes makes my stomach drop.

“Aaron!” she yells again, pointing. “Duck!”

Before I can register what she has said, I feel a shattering explosion of pain as the beer bottle collides with my right temple. I taste blood as it drips down into my mouth. The room is spinning, and all I see are fuzzy colors. I hear muted yelps and screams of victory through my ringing ears. My head is throbbing, but I feel a strange warm sensation throughout my body, as if I am falling asleep. Like the end of a movie, everything slowly, quietly fades to black.

********

“They found WHAT?”

I look up from my not-so-comfortable white hospital bed at my friends, who are gathered in a circle around me. Olivia, Mary, Justin, Richie, Susan, and Veronica are all here. No sign of Victor, though. Oh, well.

“Yeah, apparently it was in your pocket,” says Justin. “What I want to know is why you even had a blunt in the first place. We didn’t smoke last night!”

Suddenly, like a cold wave splashing me in the face, it all comes back. The really tall guy with the round John Lennon sunglasses and red dreadlocks! The one who gave me the “advice” that earned me eight stitches and a concussion. Just thinking about him makes my temple throb.

“That’s a story for another day, my friend,” I say, half-grinning. “Wait, what ended up happening to the guy who hit me over the head with the bottle?”

My friends all start to laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“He was a senior member of Sigma Pi. Essentially ran the whole frat. And you stole his girl,” says Justin, still laughing.

“I did not ‘steal his girl,’” I reply, making air quotes with my fingers, which makes them laugh even harder. “She rejected me!”

“As she should have!” says Susan. “That was a real pig move by you, you know.”

“Oh, come on, Susan,” I argue, “it’s the college experience!”

“That’s not an excuse for grabbing women!” says Veronica.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Justin. “Let’s all just go out tonight and get blasted so we can forget about all of this.”

“First of all, I doubt they’ll discharge me by tonight, dude,” I say. “And second of all, I got caught with weed! Wasn’t I technically supposed to be put under arrest or something?”

“No, I sweet-talked the police officer into letting you off with a warning,” says Olivia, winking at me.

“Oh, okay, great! Uh, thanks!” I say. “But third of all, it’s Sunday! There aren’t going to be any parties on a Sunday night!”

“Sure there are! I know a guy in Phi Upsilon who says they’re throwing an absolute rager tonight!” says Justin.

“Look, Justin, you can go out if you want, but I’m going to stay here with Aaron,” says Veronica, glaring at him and then turning her soft brown eyes and easy smile to me.

“Me too,” says Susan.

“And me,” says Olivia.

“Don’t forget me!” pipes Mary.

“I guess I’ll stay, too,” mumbles Richie.

“Damn, guys, Aaron’s going to be fine!” says Justin. “Besides, he would want us to go out, wouldn’t you, buddy?”

I look at Justin as if I’m seeing him in the light for the first time. What kind of friend says that? The rest of these guys are being true friends, but Justin-- well, he’s just being himself, I guess.

“You know what? Just go out, Justin, and have fun,” I say, smiling. “Let me know how it goes. I don’t think I’ll be going out again-- for a while, at least, anyway.”

Justin looks at me warily, sensing a shift in my tone.

“Okay, buddy,” he says uneasily. “Feel better!” He walks through the door, closing it quietly behind him.

“Can you believe him?” Veronica asks. The other girls nod and grunt in agreement. Richie looks longingly out the door, then turns back toward the group.

“So, if we’re not going out this weekend, what are we going to do?” he asks me, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could try something different,” I say, looking toward Veronica, who returns my smile. “Something new and exciting.”

“Like what?” asks Olivia.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” says a glowing Veronica. “There’s this new Thai place that just opened up on Palace Street, so I was thinking we go there for dinner at around seven, then afterward, there’s this really pretty spot on the hill next to Luchsinger Hall that I hear has an amazing view I’ve been meaning to check out, and I was thinking we could all go there with blankets and just lay down and talk and wait for the stars to come out, and then maybe we could…”

As she excitedly describes her plans to the group, I smile and close my eyes. Maybe I was looking in all the wrong places for the college experience. Maybe, after all these weekends of trying so hard to have fun, everything I’ve been looking for has been right under my nose all along.

#satire #college #wasted #time

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