#Traffic Factory 2 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightwing-s · 1 year

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes.

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though.

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city.

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around.

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer.

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately.

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back.

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making.

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat, admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair, exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of.

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer.

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there”

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck.

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave.

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction.

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips.

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer.

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely.

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was.

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck.

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before.

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips.

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release.

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster.

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart.

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter.

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud.

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along.

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release.

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that.

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man.

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release.

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again.

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt.

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer.

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested.

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

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rockethorse · 3 months

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Alright, let's meet Calcinidae Bay!

Calcinidae Bay is a(n unpopulated) work-in-progress CC-free Sims 2 neighbourhood where all the buildings are made from shell challenges.

I'm planning on posting more about Calcinidae Bay and its lots, so I wanted to make an intro post to start the tag! Feel free to mute the tag "Calcinidae Bay" if you're not interested.

Shell challenges are quite popular in the Sims 4, but they're possible to do in any Sims game and the principles are largely the same; one player puts down a bunch of walls, then other Simmers have to turn those walls into something without altering that "shell". Rules may vary depending on the creator and between game versions, but here are the general rules I'm playing by:

Walls that are already placed cannot be deleted, moved, or swapped with fences/half-walls.

New exterior walls cannot be connected to the the shell; they must be separated by at least one tile. This includes vertically (e.g. additional storeys, basements, dormers). New interior walls may be placed freely, but any preexisting interior walls must be preserved.

Fences and half-walls are allowed to be added/connected anywhere.

Foundation can be added freely but any existing foundation must be preserved (though it can be replaced with any of the 3 basegame foundation types).

There are some lots in Calcinidae Bay that don't follow these exact rules (such as my Foundations For Families houses) but do follow other building-restriction challenges, but the majority of lots are based on Sims 4 shell challenges converted to the Sims 2.

Let's take a look under the hood!

Calcinidae Bay is split into five sections, and has two roads leading in/out of town. Its terrain is Compass River by Leekeaux on MTS.

The blue/cyan area is the civic centre, where the entertainment, business, and government buildings are. There are some residential lots here, but mostly community. The road out leads to/from the future Downtown subhood.

The yellow section is the suburban area where most Sims live. It has a lot of housing, some smaller shops, and community lots like a library and public primary/secondary schools. The road out leads to/from the future Shopping District subhood.

The red/pink area is the rougher side of town. Since there are no roads out, there's less incidental traffic, so the real estate is less valuable and thus tends to be cheaper. This is where the remote offices, factories/warehouses, and affordable housing is/are.

The purple area is where the rich snobs live and gather. Houses here will be larger, older, and more expensive, and the few community lots will be more exclusive. (Note that "expensive" does not always mean "tasteful".)

Lastly, the green area in the corner is military ground. Eventually, it will have barracks, offices, and research facilities.

And if you were wondering, "why Calcinidae?" Well, Calcinidae is a family of hermit crabs - creatures that take shells left by others and repurpose them for their own use. :) The hermit crab and its shell are the coat of arms for Calcinidae Bay (and would be on its flag were I using custom content).

Most of the shells I use for Calcinidae Bay are remade from Sims 4 challenges, but I would love for Sims 2 players to donate shells too! Feel free to send me a Sims2Pack of a packaged shell OR simply draw the floorplan out on a grid and I'll remake it myself. You can also include other rules/suggestions about what the lot should be, what objects must be used, etc.

Lastly, I can't promise how useful all the lots in Calcinidae Bay would be for other players, especially since shell challenges can result in some unintuitive floorplans, but if you would like any of them, simply ask and I will do my best to share them. :)

#The Sims 2 #Calcinidae Bay

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seat-safety-switch · 10 months

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Last week, I was driving past the local shoe emporium, when I thought it might be a good idea to buy some shoes. Seizing the wheel with both hands, I roughly jagged the Valiant across four lanes of interprovincial traffic. Did I lift throttle as I approached the casually-landscaped dirt embankment separating the parking lot from the outlet mall? Only if I were a coward who drove an untrustworthy car.

After the '74 Vally ceased its end-over-end rolling, landing perfectly on its wheels like a 3400-lb ballerina made mostly out of iron oxide, I stepped out and headed into the mall. Now, if you haven't been to a mall lately, you're probably a normal human being. The only folks who still roam the shattered husks of Western cultural imperialism that dot our apocalyptic landscape are the poor souls that are paid to be there. And also old people, doing mall-walking, because it's too hot to exercise outside.

When the world still made sense, there was a plinth here, marked "information." You could look at a little map of the mall, broken down by categories. In this era, there is no "Men's Shoes" category. There is no map at all. Two burned-out T8 fluorescent bulbs un-shine behind an empty lens, the paper having been removed by some bitter ex-employee turned vandal decades prior. I do not need a map: I already know this particular territory.

Through an unusual – some might say creepy, although that goes way too far and you should get out more – agreement, the Shoes Unlimited is constantly replenished with footwear that other, richer stores did not want. It's not clear what happens to the shoes that do not get bought here, but I am sure it is not a pretty fate.

That is, if any shoes are ever discarded at all. Without a crack management team, the employees have gone feral, resorting to only the activities required for retail survival. The floor is covered in a couple feet of discarded shoeboxes, crinkly tissue paper, and loose athletic trainers which will never again see their factory mate before the sun konks out.

After a few minutes of searching, I finally pick up a box marked Piloti with a picture of a race car on the side of it. Driving shoes, I reason, or at least ones that were made before Formula One turned into a boating event. Although the thermal label on the side of the box is faded, it looks vaguely like my shoe size. My prize is carried to the counter, where I place it in front of an employee who looks at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. I have played this game before, and we begin a wordless game of negotiation, locked in slow-motion combat like two chess players who are trying to figure out which one of the two of us has to take a shit first.

The world turns. Twenty dollars – a moist but otherwise perfectly legal Lizzy 2 – is placed on the counter, and accepted at last. I change my shoes right there, throwing my old ones into the mess on the floor. Will they benefit some other traveller, in the distant future? We may never know, but we have to keep trying.

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 11 months

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Aypiere and Quackity are talking!

Around 30-40 minutes in Aypierre's stream; some significant points:

Quackity is cleaning up the airplane debris and plans to build a structure there (a Mexican or a French one)

Aypierre suggests a replica of the Arc de Triomphe to fill in the space in the wall

Aypierre hands Quackity shit, to his delight

The two discuss the potentiality of Aypierre being a candidate

Quackity says he wants to hold back for the event

Aypierre believes he and the rest of the French members will be competitive about it

Quackity gives some reminders about the delivery of the manual

Quackity and Aypierre have some cultural exchanges. The constant protesting in France is real. They compare French and Mexican drinking behavior.

They begin talking about America and some cultural observations they have with it. Aypierre finds America very friendly.

Aypierre mentions his streaming schedule and kids! This reminded Quackity of dealing with Luzu's own schedule.

Quackity talked about a culture shock moment in Spain regarding the auto-ticketing of cars. He then proceeds to rant about America's car culture.

"Los Angeles is nothing like the movies,"

Quackity reminisces of his childhood visits to San Francisco

(Dang Aypierre has been to America that many times???)

Quackity proposes they go drinking together at some point

Quackity praises California weather

The two discuss being able to speak English for travel + the implications of accents

Quackity starts ranting about LA traffic

Quackity is shocked learn that one can take a 2 hour train ride from France to London

Quackity asks Aypierre to compare London to Paris—Aypierre thinks British girls are prettier but French food is better

They discuss American food. There are some good stuff but they note how processed it can be.

Quackity reminisces about Mexican food upon being asked about it by Aypierre

The two build dick statues out black wool (?) and white quartz (?)

Aypierre places down the Make Love, Not War picture he has, baffling Quackity

Quackity shows Aypierre pictures of his places/houses in the server

Aypierre has placed down an image of himself cooking

Quackity shows Aypierre a picture of his younger self

They discuss Andorra—Quackity shows Aypierre a picture of himself in Andorra

They are discussing towns with silly names, like Montcuq

Quackity is straight up showing Aypierre cursed pictures of himself

B O O B S

Aypierre dropped down a picture of beef (and I am now hungry it is almost my dinner time)

Quackity accidently poked his eye IRL

Quackity admits to having a phobia of airplane bathrooms

He drew in paint to help explain why

asskiss

Quackity, during a first class flight, held in his shit for 13 hours due to his fear of airplane bathrooms

"It was like an orgasm?" "Better than an orgasm!"

Quackity talks about roadtrip stopovers

Bad whispers to Aypierre if he could place a warp in his factory. Aypierre said yes!

(Quackity you gotta help unravel the biases Aypierre has gotten about Mexico my man just assumed kids do coke in the bathroom during recess) <- Quackity does this

(Yikes Q-man people take pictures in the bathroom like that???)

They are now talking about vulnerability in the act of defecation

Quackity starts praising toilets in Amsterdam

Between me and Quackity, one of us is wrong when it comes to pronouncing "bidet"

Eyy squatting toilets! (I encountered one of those during a trip to Beijing and I hated them so much god)

More is happening right now but I gotta stop liveblogging (Quackity is showing a picture of tacos!)

#qsmp #qsmp liveblogging #quackity #aypierre

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ljnsdump · 5 months

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Broken? No, Just Rearranging (SERIES)

Kim Mingyu x Female Reader

Kim Mingyu as Lucas Blue Ramirez and Y/N as Ara Riona Teves De La Vega

Just let go of the illusion that it could have been any different.

Genre: M/F, old friends to lovers, fluff(in the next chapters), smut (not in this chap tho), angst, late 20s established career setting

Warnings: Just mean, bratty and hateful OC

Word Count: 2 367

Hello and welcome to my first ever series! This will we in both English and Tagalog for better feels. I am so excited for you guys to read this! This story has always been in my notes for the longest time, I literally wrote the first chapter when I was in 9th grade. Anyway, enjoy reading! Please do not hesitate to give me some constructive criticism.

----

CHAPTER 1: Let it Bleed

'DLVGC Headquarters'

The sign on the huge led screen says when you enter the main lobby of the huge building.

De la Vega Group of Companies, one of the biggest businesses ran by a family. Malls, hotels, restaurants, clothing, makeup brands, food factories, and transportations. Own most of it. They are all over the world now. The business grew a lot. The person who stands as the head of everyone, even the presidents of each company is their own grandfather, Chairman Dominico de la Vega. He has 6 offspring leading each company except one. Don de la Vega and his wife chose other fields. Business wasn't their vibe. Now, their only daughter will manage all of De la Vega Fashion and Beauty. The only grandchild who takes over her parents' job in the family. At dahil dun, naging paborito siya ni Chairman Dominico. Pinag-aral siya sa France at ngayon ay babalik na.

"Mr. Ramirez, hinihintay po kayo ng Chairman." Sabi ng assistant ng chairman na nasa front desk ng opisina nito. Tumango ang binata at pinagbuksan siya ng assistant ng pinto sa opisina ng chairman.

"Magandang umaga po, Chairman Dominico." Bati niya.

"Blue, kamusta ang preparasyon para sa pagdating ni Ara?" Tanong ng matanda.

"Mabuti naman po. Iniba na namin ang panloob ng buong DLV Fashion ayon sa kagustuhan niya." Sagot ni Blue.

Si Lucas Blue Ramirez ay isa sa mga pinagkakatiwalaang tao ng pamilyang ito. Matanda lang ng apat na taon kay Ara at ito ang magiging assistant niya.

"Great. I want you to escort her from the airport to DVLF. Your job as her assistant and secretary starts." Utos nito at walang pag-aalinlangang tumango si Blue.

Lumabas ng headquarters si Blue at sumakay sa isang van kasama ang dalawang gwardya. Susunduin nila si Ara airport. Nakasunod sa kanila ang isa pang van dahil napakarami daw nitong dalang maleta.

Pagpasok nila sa airport, nakatayo sa may arrival area si Ara na nakasuot ng kulay pink na Gucci wool silk short belted jumpsuit, pink leather Gucci platform heels na may double G emblem, pink na 1969 Plexiglass mini top handbag na mula Gucci rin. Nakatayo lang siya dun habang hawak hawak ang kanyang gray and pink gradient metal sunglasses na mula Gucci rin. Nakatingin lang ito ng diretso at halatang naiinis na. Nasa likod niya ay halos sampung pink na Horizon 55 luggage bags mula Louis Vuitton at isang babaeng may edad na parang around 50's.

"I just got here, don't try to ruin my mood." Galit niyang sabi kay Blue nang lapitan siya nito at mga kasama niyang gwardya.

"Na traffic kami." Sagot nito. "I will be your assistant, I'm Lucas Blue Ramirez."

She walks past them. Pinagtitinginan pa siya ng mga tao dahil nga sa pag-susuot niya at mga dala niya.

Nang nasa loob na sila ng van, sinuot ni Ara ang kanyang sunglasses. "Take me to my house. I want to rest." Sabi niya.

Tumingin ang driver kay Blue na nasa front seat at tumango lang ito.

Pumasok sila sa modernong mansyon na may napakahabang infinity pool sa gitna. Halos kita na ang loob ng bahay dahil sa mga glass exterior nito. Ang mansyon ay hugis U na merong tatlong palapag at underground parking lot. Meron sun deck at barbeque place sa may pool. Sa kabilang dako naman ng parking lot ay ang gym. Sa unang palapag, nanduon ang kusina, sala, at hapag kainan. Sa pangalawang palapag kay pitong kwarto na walang gumagamit at ang buong 3rd floor ay kwarto ni Ara. Meron ring rooftop.

"Magandang umaga, Senorita." Bati ng walong kasambahay, at hardinero. Tumango siya sa mga ito at umakyat na sa kwarto niya gamit ang elevator. Kasama niya doon sina Blue at yung kasama niyang babae.

"That's Nanay Hilda. Siya ang nag-aalaga sakin mula noon pa." Sabi ni Aya.

"Hello po, ako po si Blue." Inilahad ni Blue ang kanyang kamay para makipaglamano at tinanggap naman ito ni Hilda ng nakangiti. "Ako po ang bagong assistant ng alaga niyo."

"Sumama ako dito sa Pilipinas para makauwi na ako saamin. Alagaan mo ng mabuti itong si Ara ha." Tinapik nito ang balikat niya.

"Makakasigurado po kayo."

"Nanay, matutulog muna ako. Tell him what he needs to know." Sabi niya at pumunta sa kanyang kama habang pumunta sa may lounge area ng kwarto sina Blue at Hilda.

"Is she always that cold and bratty?" Naiinis na tanong ni Blue. "Wala man lang ka emosyon emosyon sa mukha."

Natawa nalang si Hilda. "Mabait yang batang yan. Wag mo lang inisin. At kahit gaano ka nakakatakot, wag mo sanang pabayaan."

Napailing ng dahan dahan si Blue. "Sana nga."

"Pag naiinis yan, mahilig nyang matulog o kaya uminom. Pigilan mo muna pag gustong uminom, pero pag nagpupumilit, bigyan mo nalang ng white wine. Kapag stress, bigyan mo ng pagkain. Mahilig yan sa maaanghang. Mahilig rin yang mag shopping."

"Ano po bang kinakainisan niya?"

"Yung mabagal, yung late, yung sumasapaw kapag nagsasalita siya, kapag hindi nasusunod ang kagustuhan niya."

"Spoiled brat."

"Alagaan mo ng mabuti." Ngumiti ang matanda.

Kinabukasan na lumabas ng kwarto si Ara. Nakasuot ng velvet red a-line ankle-length dress na slit-sleeved. Ito ay sinuotan niya ng velvet red ring platform pump at mga aksesorya. Ang kanyang buhok ay nakaplantsa lang para ma straight.

Napatingin ang lahat ng kasambahay at pati na si Blue sa kanya paglabas niya ng elevator.

"Take me to the HQ. I have a lot of people to greet." Sabi niya habang naglalakad at nilampasan si Blue.

Pinagbuksan siya ni Blue ng pinto ng van at umandar na ito.

"Ask them when will my cars arrive. I hate this fat, shabby van." Utos niya kay Blue at nagsuot ng itim na sunglasses. Sumandal siya sa headrest at pinikit ang mga mata para makatulog.

Tinawagan naman ni Blue ang shipping company. "Hi, this is Ms. Ara Riona de la Vega's assistant. Can I ask when the cars will arrive?" He asks in English fluently.

"Sir, the cars have arrived already early this morning, we just have to check the papers and the cars will be sent to her house." Sagot ng babae sa telepono.

Binaba ni Blue ang telepono. "Chinicheck na ang papers." Sabi niya at pumikit na rin.

Pagdating nila, napakaraming taong naghihintay sa kanya. Nakalinya silang lahat sa harap ng building. Nagulat si Ara sa kanyang nakita. Nandoon pati ang kanyang mga pinsan.

"Bakit hindi mo sinabing nandito sila?!" Naiinis na tanong ni Ara kay Blue.

"Kung sinabi ko, hindi ka pupunta." Sagot naman ni Blue at bumaba ng van para pagbuksan si Ara sa kabilang side. Pagbaba ni Ara ay nilapitan siya ng kanyang siyam na mga pinsan.

"Why are you here?" Tanong niya habang nakaigting ang panga sa galit.

Ngumisi ang isa sa mga pinsan niyang lalaki na si Angelo. "Bidang bida kana naman."

"As expected, basta paborito kahit kaming hindi interesado nadadamay." Sabi pa ng isa na si Lianna.

Magsasalita na sana si Ara nang sumingit si Blue. "There are insiders and journalists around us." Mahina lang ang kanyang pagkasabi pero natigil ang mga magpinsan.

Ara forced a smile at lumapit isa-isa sa kanyang mga pinsan. "I missed all of you." Isa isa niyang niyakap ang siyam.

Walo sa kanyang mga pinsan ay inis na inis sa kanya. Si Ara kasi ang pinakapaborito ng lolo't lola nila. Ang isa na si Aimee ay ang tanging pinsan niyang mabuti at malapit sa kanya.

"Our Ara is here!" Chairman Dominico leaped in joy.

"Never seen him that ridiculous ever." Another one of her cousins, Jeannette whispered.

"Not for you." Ara smirked and walked past them going to their grandfather. She went in for a tight hug. "I'm so happy to see you again, lo."

Dominico's heart warms as his granddaughter that he misses hugs her. Ilang taon na ring hindi bumalik ng Pilipinas si Ara dahil kinailangan niyang tutukan ang pag-aaral para lang maging bagay sa kanyang position sa negosyo ngayon.

"Greet your tito's and tita's. They came here for you." Ngumiti ang matanda. "Then come with me to my office."

She went to her tito's and tita's at binati ito isa isa. Hindi katulad sa mga pinsan niya, ang relasyon niya sa kanila ay okay lang naman. Hindi man ganun ka lapit sa isa't isa pero wala namang galit na namamagitan.

"Ba't mo naman na isipang bumalik dito ng bigla bigla?" Tanong ng matanda sa kanyang apo nang dumating sila sa opisina niya. Siya, si Ara at Blue lang ang naroroon.

She pouted. "Ayaw niyo ba ako dito, lo?"

Natawa ito. "Hindi naman, apo. Nagtatanong lang naman ako kasi biglaan ang pag-uwi mo."

Napatingin siya sa bintana. "May kailangan lang akong ihanda."

Napasinghap ang matanda. "You can't heal unless you won't forgive, Ara." Tumaas ang isang kilay ni Ara dahil sa sinabi ng kanyang lolo. "You've experienced a lot in France, I know."

"Then let it bleed." Her voice cracked in anger.

"Who are you?" Tanong ni Ara at sabay silang huminto ni Blue.

"I'm Lucas Blue Ramirez." Sagot niya.

Umirap si Ara at sarkastikong tumawa. "Why are you my assistant?"

"The chairman chose me."

"Why?"

"He wants someone who can put up with your attitude." He replied frankly that startled her a little and made her eyes pierce in anger. She started walking again to the car.

"Go to the company." Utos niya sa driver.

Pagdating nila sa malawak na building na may limang palapag, nandoon rin ang mga trabahante na nakasuot ng lab coats, masks at gloves naghihintay sa kanya.

They all bowed upon seeing her. She stood in front of them with Blue beside her. "Welcome to the company, President and Chief Executive Officer Ara Riona de la Vega."

Tumingin si Blue sa kanya upang makita ang magiging reaksyon nito. Ngumiti si Ara. "Maraming salamat." This is probably the first time he sees her smile since she arrived.

Lumapit sa kanyang ang mga namamahala ng kompanya. "Magandang umaga, po. I'm DLVGC's Clear Cosmetics general manager, Lygel Marasigan." Sabi nito. "We've prepared your coat, mask and gloves." Binagay naman ito ni Ara kay Blue.

Isa isang nagpakilala ang mga namamahala ng kompanyang Clear Cosmetics at De la Vega Fashion.

"Pumasok na po tayo sa loob?" Aya ni Lygel Marasigan.

Sinuot ni Ara ang gloves at mask, si Blue naman ang nagpasuot sa kanya nung coat na may red metal name plate.

Ara Riona Teves de la Vega

Clear Cosmetics and De la Vega Fashion

President and CEO

Pumasok sila sa building at ang sumalubong kay Ara ay mga kahong napakalaki.

Tumaas agad ang kilay niya. "What are these?"

Blue shuts his eyes in disbelief. He clearly told them not to put those boxes there.

"I-Iyan po ang gagamiting materyales para sa araw na ito."

"This is the entrance of the building if you didn't know." She said sarcastically. "Do those boxes look appealing to you?"

"Pasensya na po, ipapalipat na po namin ito sa likuran." Yumuko si Lygel. Agad na kumilos ang mga trabahante.

"Yan po ang information desk natin at andyan nakabantay sila Bruce at Kate." He gestured to the long counter and behind it was a wall with the huge rectangular portrait of the de la Vega family.

"Itong unang dalawang palapag po ay para sa Clear Cosmetics tas yung pangatlo at pang-apat ay sa De la Vega Fashion. Ang panglimang palapag ay studio. Dito lang rin po ginagawa ang mga photoshoot." Sabi ng isa sa kanila.

"I want this space to be a comfortable lobby." She said while scanning the room when the boxes were cleared out.

"Opo."

Gabi na nang matapos nilang libutin ang buong building pati na rin ang bodega at canteen na nasa katabing building.

"Nasa bahay na ba ang mga sasakyan ko?" Tanong ni Ara habang nakapikit at komportableng nakaupo sa van.

"Hinatid kaninang alas dos ng hapon." Sagot naman ni Blue.

"Good. Bring me home."

"Ano bang gusto mong kainin, tatawag ako sa bahay." Tanong ni Blue sa kanya.

"I'm eating out with a friend." Tanging sagot ni Aya.

Pagdating nila ng bahay ay agad na pumunta sa kwarto si Aya at naghanda. She took a quick shower. Still in her robe, she dried her long hair. Pagkatapos ay sinuot niya ang spaghetti strap layered ruffle mid-thigh length dress na kulay puti. She wore dangling earrings and necklace with it as well as a bracelet and a ring and white sling back heels.

Pagbaba niya ng kwarto, alas otso na ng gabi. Pumunta muna siya sa sala dahil nandoon ang susi ng mga sasakyan niya. Nandoon si Blue naghihintay sa kanya.

"Why are you still here?" Tanong niya.

"Akala ko ba may lakad ka pa?" Kaswal na tanong niya pabalik.

"I'll go alone." Sagot niya at sumakay balik sa elevator. Sumunod si Blue kaya nagtaka siya. "What are you doing?"

"Drop me off at the nearest bus stop." Sagot nito at inilagay ang kanyang mga kamay sa bulsa.

Bumukas ang elevator. Nasa parking lot na sila. "And why would I do that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know."

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. No one has ever talked so casually to her before. Six cars in red, black and white colors are lined up in the parking lot. She stopped between them choosing what to use. She then chose a white Jaguar F-type convertible.

"My previous assistant will be arriving tomorrow and will be bringing the clothes and shoes I have left in France. She will also be the new social media strategist for De la Vega Fashion." Sabi ni Aya habang nagdadrive.

"Who are you meeting?" He asks casually.

She suddenly stepped on the brakes. Thankfully no car was behind them. "I'm sorry since when does an assistant care about that?"

"Since now." He replied.

She pulled over the bus stop. Bumaba si Blue at pinaharurot ni Aya ang kanyang sasakyan.

She parked her car infront of a boujee steak house. Pagpasok niya agad siyang binati ng waiters.

"Omg, hi! You're here!" A tall, stylish gay rushed and hugged her tight. "I haven't seen you in person for 3 years already."

She hugged him back. "Yeah, you quitted from fashion school."

"I was just really tired. You know the story." He rolls his eyes.

"How are the preparations?”

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hypocrite-human · 5 months

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AI & IT'S IMPACT

Unleashing the Power: The Impact of AI Across Industries and Future Frontiers

Artificial Intelligence (AI), once confined to the realm of science fiction, has rapidly become a transformative force across diverse industries. Its influence is reshaping the landscape of how businesses operate, innovate, and interact with their stakeholders. As we navigate the current impact of AI and peer into the future, it's evident that the capabilities of this technology are poised to reach unprecedented heights.

1. Healthcare:

In the healthcare sector, AI is a game-changer, revolutionizing diagnostics, treatment plans, and patient care. Machine learning algorithms analyze vast datasets to identify patterns, aiding in early disease detection. AI-driven robotic surgery is enhancing precision, reducing recovery times, and minimizing risks. Personalized medicine, powered by AI, tailors treatments based on an individual's genetic makeup, optimizing therapeutic outcomes.

2. Finance:

AI is reshaping the financial industry by enhancing efficiency, risk management, and customer experiences. Algorithms analyze market trends, enabling quicker and more accurate investment decisions. Chatbots and virtual assistants powered by AI streamline customer interactions, providing real-time assistance. Fraud detection algorithms work tirelessly to identify suspicious activities, bolstering security measures in online transactions.

3. Manufacturing:

In manufacturing, AI is optimizing production processes through predictive maintenance and quality control. Smart factories leverage AI to monitor equipment health, reducing downtime by predicting potential failures. Robots and autonomous systems, guided by AI, enhance precision and efficiency in tasks ranging from assembly lines to logistics. This not only increases productivity but also contributes to safer working environments.

4. Education:

AI is reshaping the educational landscape by personalizing learning experiences. Adaptive learning platforms use AI algorithms to tailor educational content to individual student needs, fostering better comprehension and engagement. AI-driven tools also assist educators in grading, administrative tasks, and provide insights into student performance, allowing for more effective teaching strategies.

5. Retail:

In the retail sector, AI is transforming customer experiences through personalized recommendations and efficient supply chain management. Recommendation engines analyze customer preferences, providing targeted product suggestions. AI-powered chatbots handle customer queries, offering real-time assistance. Inventory management is optimized through predictive analytics, reducing waste and ensuring products are readily available.

6. Future Frontiers:

A. Autonomous Vehicles: The future of transportation lies in AI-driven autonomous vehicles. From self-driving cars to automated drones, AI algorithms navigate and respond to dynamic environments, ensuring safer and more efficient transportation. This technology holds the promise of reducing accidents, alleviating traffic congestion, and redefining mobility.

B. Quantum Computing: As AI algorithms become more complex, the need for advanced computing capabilities grows. Quantucm omputing, with its ability to process vast amounts of data at unprecedented speeds, holds the potential to revolutionize AI. This synergy could unlock new possibilities in solving complex problems, ranging from drug discovery to climate modeling.

C. AI in Creativity: AI is not limited to data-driven tasks; it's also making inroads into the realm of creativity. AI-generated art, music, and content are gaining recognition. Future developments may see AI collaborating with human creators, pushing the boundaries of what is possible in fields traditionally associated with human ingenuity.

In conclusion, the impact of AI across industries is profound and multifaceted. From enhancing efficiency and precision to revolutionizing how we approach complex challenges, AI is at the forefront of innovation. The future capabilities of AI hold the promise of even greater advancements, ushering in an era where the boundaries of what is achievable continue to expand. As businesses and industries continue to embrace and adapt to these transformative technologies, the synergy between human intelligence and artificial intelligence will undoubtedly shape a future defined by unprecedented possibilities.

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y2klostandfound · 10 months

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Game Secrets Institute - Jet Set Radio on Game Players magazine Vol.133 (Video game magazine)(Hong Kong)(12/08/2000)

Translation in English:

DC (Dreamcast)

Manufacturer: SEGA Price: 5800 Yen Capacity: GD-ROM X 1 Memory: 4 BLOCKS Release date: on sale 1P/ETC/MODEM, VMS, vibration PACK, VGA BOX correspondence

JET SET RADIO DATASET

DO YOU REMEMBER THAT I SAID IN THE GAME INTRODUCTION OF ISSUE 131 THAT THIS JET SET RADIO HAS SOMETHING CALLED THE "JET SET LOGO"? These signs allow players to change the patterns of the current character when the game, and the entire game has 90 Jet Set logos. I believe that many players have not stored all patterns. Therefore, I will send you the location of all 90 "JET SET Logo" in this issue, plus some special information.

The first level (Shibuya GG)(Shibuya-cho)(Stage 1)- Number of JET SET logos (5)

Logo No. - Place:

No.11 - Platform above convenience store No.15 - Lamp Post Top No.41 - Next to the billboard No.45 - Under the Flyover No.71 - Under the Flyover

First encounter with the red gang (Love trap)(Shibuya-cho)(Stage 2) - Number of JET SET logos (7)

Logo No. - Place:

No.13 - Residential roof No.16 - Over the road No.43 - Above the park to the broken bridge No.46 - Broken bridge and high altitude No.72 - Roof next to the broken bridge No.73 - Under the broken bridge No.75 - On the traffic sign next to the park

Strange Group (The monster of Kogane)(Kogane-cho)(Stage 3) - Number of JET SET logos (8)

Logo No. - Place:

No.18 - Near the boat behind the starting point No.20 - The steel bars movement on the way No.22 - Residential roof No.48 - Residential house No.51 - In the alley No.77 - Over the railing No.79 - Next to the oil depot No.80 - Near the starting point

Fighting the Strange Group (No.540)(Kogane-cho)(Stage 4)- Number of JET SET logos (4)

Logo No. - Place:

No.17 - Over the fence next to the starting point No.21 - The end of the upper tunnel in the workshop No.50 - Wires above the workshop No.78 - Factory roof

Dueling the Strange Group (Kogane Circus)(Kogane-cho)(Stage 5) - Number of JET SET logos (3)

Logo No. - Place:

No.19 - Inside the hidden tunnel No.47 - Sewer tunnel in the air No.76 - Sewerage tunnel

First encounter with the Mechanical Corps (Benten Boogie)(Benten-cho)(Stage 6) - Number of JET SET logos (3)

Logo No. - Place:

No.24 - Residential roof No.52 - Above the starting point No.82 - Inside the underground tunnel

Fighting the Mechanical Corps (Graffiti high)(Benten-cho)(Stage 7) - Number of JET SET logos (7)

Logo No. - Place:

No.25 - Top of the Dome Square store No.53 - Near the movie bulletin board No.54 - Over the shopping street tunnel No.55 - Over the flyover above the starting point No.83 - Dome Square on the wire No.84 - Top of a store in Shopping Street No.85 - On the container next to the starting point

The end of the Mechanical Corps (Noise Reduction)(Benten-cho)(Stage 8) - Number of JET SET logos (8)

Logo No. - Place:

No.23 - Over the road No.56 - Among the trees No.57 - The two bridges are connected in the air No.86 - Over the footbridge No.87 - Over the footbridge

The final battle with the red gang (Love attack)(Shibuya-cho)(Stage 9) - Number of JET SET logos (5)

Logo No. - Place:

No.12 - On the road No.14 - Billboard No.42 - Road No.44 - On the stairs No.74 - On the store platform

Battle of the Flying Forces(Fight or Flight)(Kogane-cho)(Stage 11)- Number of JET SET logos (2)

Logo No. - Place:

No.49 - Rooftop position No.81 - Rooftop position

The last level of the map for joint supply(Benten Burning)(Benten-cho)(Stage 12)- Number of JET SET logos (2)

Logo No. - Place:

No.26 - Inside the subway passage No.27 - Attached to the patio of the subway station

These are the locations of all 90 JET SET logos, 51 in total, and the remaining 39 are obtained after joining the character and obtaining a hidden character.

Three Hidden Characters

The game has ten basic characters for use, in fact, there are three hidden characters, and the method of obtaining these three hidden characters is very difficult, the method is that the player has to obtain all the version of the score "ジェット(Jet)" after the completion of the game will be released to play the role of the selection of the screen on a wall will be thumbs to the three logos, as long as you select these three logos can be selected to use these three hidden characters.

#jet set radio #jsr #jet grind radio #sega

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ofcoming4th · 6 months

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I'm doing this far too much lately. Saying goodbye to a friend I never met.

The man in the striped shirt is Shane MacGowan, first lead singer and songwriter for The Pogues - the first Irish punk band anyone had heard of widely in the USA.

He died today, November 30,at the age of 65. With Shane if you didn't know him the first things you might think is, " Oh he passed pretty young" . If you did it was, "Wow he made it that long?"

Shane was a towering talent, a junkie, a poet and often a complete bastard. His own band had to put him out because of his drug problem and general arsehole behavior - supposedly he said, "What took ya so long?"

In the early 80's there were rumbles in the music magazines about a band who went by Pogue Mahone ( which my mom used to yell at people who cut her off in traffic). They had to change it to just The Pogues because too many people knew the same phrase and they could not get any television spots or be on MTV.

Elvis Costello was a fan and helped produce their first widely played USA album "Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash" in 1985. I was in my punk/proto New Wave phase at the time and was able to get someone to drive me to the nearest large city in order to buy the LP in a ratty little store next to a CBGB wanna be bar. I'll admit that the title was the big selling point for my immature self and I had no idea what to expect (as Mr. Joel said, you can't get the sound from the pages of a magazine, even if that magazine was CREAM).

The 5th track was "A Pair of Brown Eyes" and Shane's plaintive not quite on key voice caught me as he mourned the cost of death and hate while staying intensely human. On Side 2 was "Dirty Old Town" by Ewan MacColl. For an Irish American kid from a dying mill town who didn't even have a word for her sexuality the lyrics and Shane's voice put words to my experience even an ocean away from the trauma and violence of Ireland in the 80's. "Dreamed a dream by the old canal. I kissed my girl by the factory wall... " that was me, a bumbling scared girl in a tiny canal and mill town hiding to kiss a girl because it just made more sense even if I knew it would make life even harder.

And that album has never left my possession, changing formats but bringing me back to who I once was when I owned that first LP. Nostalgia is sweet when you know you will never have to be that self in that situation ever again. But good music is good music.

I kept up with Shane through the wild swings of his career and life . Though I don't think his post Pogues music was ever up to the level of those albums - "Red Roses for Me" to "Hell's Ditch" set the standard and pointed the way for bands like Dropkick Murphy's and Flogging Molly with the blending of Irish traditional influence and modern storytelling.

And he made it to 65,changing music, writing the song "Fairytale of New York" ( will somebody explain to me why this is considered a Christmas song staple? Has anyone besides me actually listened to the real lyrics which require cutting on broadcast radio? Just because Christmas is mentioned several times doesn't make this a happy Christmas song!)

I'll stop clutching my pearls and get back on track.

I needed to write this to just get my feelings out . Shane and the other members of the Pogues were the soundtrack to a vital part of my life where I found love, lost it, and found that love had never really gone , I just needed to get my self in good enough shape to accept it.

Thank you Shane, you magnificent, miserable , romantic, drunken junkie of a poet and music maker. Your voice is always in my memories of a muggy summer evening by an abandoned paper mill in Nowhere , New York.

If you haven't heard anything by Shane besides "Fairytale" go now and give a listen to " Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash" and its follow up "If I Should Fall From Grace with God".. You will see that even punk Irish bands during the IRA's height - with all the anger, sorrow and joy that life means, can make you want to get up and dance.

#shane macgowan #time passes whether we want it to or not #the pogues #pogue mahone is slang for kiss my ass #just in case you didnt bother to look it up

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blossom-adventures · 10 months

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This request was sent to me by @amarabliss

I loved this concept and I ran with it! This is my longest prompt for @badthingshappenbingo so far

This story is canon in my FFXV fic - Guard and Glaive

This story is set just after Prince Noctis is born so the Kingsglaive hasn’t been officially established, so Drautos is a member of the Royal Guard, one of King Regis’ personal guards

Hope you like it ☺️💙

Taken Off Duty

Titus’ eyes flickered open, it took him a moment to realise he was slumped forward in a chair, the more he woke up, the more his situation was becoming apparent; his hands were tied behind his back and his ankles were tied to the front legs of the chair. He was still wearing his Royal Guard Uniform which reminded him what he was doing before this, he was walking to work from his apartment, he was supposed to be on guard duty in the throne room today. How much time has passed? Would they even notice I wasn’t there?

Titus looked around, now that he was aware of his situation, he began working out where he was. He was in a dimly lit room with dark and grimy walls, a single door to his left, which was made of metal. In the far distance he could hear the sound of machinery and construction work, which made him think he was in one of the old industrial factories by the river, on the eastern wall of Insomnia. So, I’m at least 2 hours late for duty, maybe more, given the traffic, his thoughts were disturbed when the metal door screeched open, the grating noise of metal scraping on the concrete floor made Titus wince and he only just heard the 2 men enter the room, once the door was shut and the room fell into silence once again Titus looked over his left shoulder at the 2 men; they were both older than him, and they were both glaring at him.

“You just going to stand there or what?” Titus huffed, one man moved, walking around to face Titus, the man was massive, tall and built completely of muscle, Titus looked over his right shoulder to the other man. “Well, this guy’s the braun, so you’re the brains I take it?” What he could see of the man, Titus could see he was at least half the size of the man in front of him.

“You’re a member of the King’s personal guard” the thinner man said

“Did the uniform give it away?” Titus quipped, his quick remark earned him a backhand across the face. Titus ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, tasting blood coming from a small cut there, the thinner man walked around to join his friend.

“The King, how many are in his personal guard?”

“One less at the moment” Titus huffed, earning another backhand

“Keep your smart comments to yourself!” The thin man snapped “how many men guard the King?”

“I don’t know” Titus said “I’m not there everyday, I’m just a Sergeant, I don’t get told who else guards the King, that’s the Lord Shield’s job” Titus tried to pull his hands loose but the rope that bound his wrists was tight.

“You mean to tell me that you, a close friend of the King, Lord Shield and the Marshal, don’t know any of the guard numbers or rotations?”

“None, sorry to disappoint you” Titus attempted a shrug but not much happened because of how tight his wrists were bound, the thinner man looked livid, Titus just gave him a smile, which angered him further

“Kill him” Titus’ eyes widened as the thinner man stepped back, the muscular man smirked and stepped up, slipping a knuckle duster onto his hand as he approached.

Titus’ head was spinning, he didn’t know how much time had passed, but what he did know, was that he was still tied to the chair, he could feel blood dripping from his mouth, and hands of his shoulders. He could also hear voices, but he couldn’t make out the words. A hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, guiding him to look up, into familiar icy blue eyes, full of concern as they looked Titus over.

“Cor…” Titus mumbled, Cor’s eyes brightened for a moment as he met Titus’ eyes

“We don’t want to cause you anymore pain, Titus,” Cor explained slowly “so we’re waiting for a medic to cut the rope off your wrists, you’ll be free soon, I promise” Titus leant forward, letting out a long breath that made him hiss in pain, Cor shifted slightly so Titus could lean his head on Cor’s shoulder

“How did you find me?”

“The tracker in your coat pocket, the idiots didn’t bother searching you” Titus attempted to laugh but it came out as more of a wheeze which caused him to cough, he felt Cor put his hand on his back “hey, take it easy” Titus pushed himself back so he was sitting upright, wincing at the movement.

“You’re not going to tell anyone you rescued me from a pair of incompetent idiots are you?”

“Oh, I’m going to tell everyone” Cor smirked for a moment before his smile softened, “you know I won’t, the other guards can see how beat up you are, I don’t need to tell them anything else” Cor looked at Titus for a moment in silence before talking again. “You always manage to get yourself into trouble, don’t you?” He added, his tone was affectionate. Titus smiled

“I don’t do it on purpose”

“I’d be worried if you did…” Cor laughed, but then his smile faded and he looked serious. “When Clarus told me you hadn’t turned up, I was… I was worried”

“Sorry”

The medic turned up shortly after and carefully cut the rope away from Titus’ wrists, once free Cor helped him stand up

“He really shouldn’t be standing up Marshal” the medic said, Cor put Titus’ arm over his shoulder

“The only way you’ll get Sergeant Drautos on a gurney is if he’s unconscious, he’s a stubborn fool like that” Cor explained

“Thanks” Titus huffed, he saw a smile return to Cor’s lips as he let himself be led out of the warehouse by Cor.

#blossom rambles #bad things happen bingo #tied to a chair #ffxv #ffxv kingsglaive #cor leonis #titus drautos

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antimonyandthyme · 1 year

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sebchal, in the mood for love (or any of wong kar wai’s films with tony leung in it) 👀👀

Anon, anon. I think I love you. Please I’ve been in shambles thinking about this. Oh my god. Oh my god.

1. Seb’s an environmental journalist, Charles is a pianist. They’ve just moved to a new place with their spouses. They’re renting adjacent rooms to each other. The space is a little cramped, but they tell themselves it’s only for the time being while they get settled. Seb stays up late to work on his piece on a factory with insidious pollution practices. He hears Charles going through Chopin etudes and Mendelssohn’s chamber pieces. He’s secretly enamored.

2. They pass each other in the narrow hallway. Neither of them have seen their own spouses much. Several weeks later, Seb works up the courage to compliment Charles on his piano playing, when they leave their apartments in the morning. Charles lights up like Seb’s given him the world.

3. Alone in their rooms, it isn’t very hard to work out their spouses are having an affair. They sit by themselves and wonder what they should do. Charles goes through the whole of Moonlight Sonata one night, waiting, hoping, before Seb knocks on his door. Finally.

4. The increased time spent together results in the neighbours tittering. Seb can hardly find it in himself to care, but he worries about Charles. He rents a hotel room a little nearer the factory so that they can meet in peace. He reasons it’s mostly to help with his work. Charles comes over and provides insightful commentary whenever Seb gets stuck straddling the gap between neutrality and righteous anger. Seb finishes the piece and still they linger. “For us to do the same thing makes us no better than them,” they agree. “We won’t be like them.” Charles presses a kiss to Seb’s ringed finger, and leaves the hotel at midnight.

(Do they actually agree, or are too afraid to disagree with the other’s moral stance? They don’t say. They don’t touch.)

5. Seb’s paper is happy with his work, and he’ll return home. They book him a flight. A leap of faith: Seb invites Charles to the airport. They both know deep down that if Charles goes, Charles would leave the country with Seb. Charles scratches the date fervently into his calendar. He should be able to catch Seb if he leaves right away when his recital ends.

6. Traffic is bad. Charles misses Seb at the airport by minutes. A year later Seb flies back, and visits the very same apartment. Something in him aches every time he hears the sweet tones of the piano. He finds out Charles has moved. They miss each other on the street by minutes; Charles comes out of the apartment next door with a child.

#athy texts #sebchal #in the mood for love au #fanfic #rpf #anon i’m thinking of you thank you for prompting this #lil kith for you

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foundtherightwords · 10 months

Text

All Our Yesterdays - Chapter 2

Pairing: Ralph (Timewasters) x OFC

Summary: Thu, a museum archivist, only wants to escape her dull life in 21st-century Hanoi. The last thing she expects is to end up in 1929 Indochina via a time-traveling elevator and cross paths with Ralph, an Englishman on the run from the French Foreign Legion. Romance blossoms between them, but in a colonized country, unrest is always looming on the horizon, and Thu must decide if she wants to stay with Ralph in the past or return to the safety of the future.

Warnings: outdated/period-typical attitudes, mentions of war, mentions of pregnancy and abortion (involving a supporting character), some angst, some smut (non-explicit)

Chapter word count: 3.5k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It was dark. After the searing light of the elevator, Thu felt she was going blind, for she couldn't see a thing in front of her. A not-unpleasant smell of ink and warm paper enveloped her, mixed with the sharper smell of machine oil.

Then her eyes adjusted to the dimness, and her jaw dropped.

Gone was the brightly-lit, open-plan entrance hall of the Institute, hung with modern-art paintings by French and Vietnamese artists. Gone was the cozy, Parisian-styled boulangerie on the right-hand side of the hall. She was standing in what looked like a factory floor, with some sort of machinery looming on either side. Tables loaded with reams and reams of paper ran the length of the room, and more paper was stacked along the walls. Some people were busy carrying these stacks out of the door. The whole scene was lit by a few bulbs swinging from the ceiling at regular intervals and pools of yellowish light from the street outside, coming through several large windows.

Dazed, not understanding what she was looking at, Thu took a few steps further onto the floor. Her movement caught the eye of one of the workers. "Ơ kìa!" he shouted in Vietnamese. "You there, who are you?! Where did you come from?!"

All heads turned toward Thu. Panic rose within her. Without thinking, she bolted from the factory, out the door, and into the street.

But here, too, astonishment froze her in her track.

The street, basked in the same yellow light as the factory, was both familiar and unfamiliar to her. The layout was the same; some buildings, like the hotel across the street, was the same. She looked down the street, and saw the well-known Neo-Classical façade of the Grand Opera House. But the street itself was nearly deserted. There was none of the usual hubbub of Hanoi during rush hour. Other than the workers from the factory, who had now spilled out of the door and were gawking at her, there were only a few people walking on the pavement or passing by on bicycles. A man dressed in tattered clothes ran past her, pulling a rickshaw behind him, its wheels rattling in time with the slapping of his bare feet on the asphalt. From the distance, came the faint ringing of a tramcar's bell. That was what had rooted Thu to the spot - how quiet it was.

She looked up at the building she had just come from. Its Art Deco façade was unchanged, but instead of Institut Français, it said IDEO on the front, and beneath that, in cursive letters, Imprimerie d'Extrême-Orient.

IDEO. Imprimerie d'Extrême-Orient. The Far East Printing House. This was the IDEO Printing House. The one that was built in the 1920s. And here it was, in front of her, large as life, looking brand-new.

"This can't be," Thu murmured to herself.

The workers from the factory—the printing house, she now realized—were still staring at her. Avoiding their curious eyes, she stumbled down the street, toward the Opera House. She didn't even worry about walking into traffic, because there was no traffic to speak of.

It was a bit more crowded in front of the Opera House, with people mingling about, more rickshaws, and even a few cars waiting, probably to pick up the theater-goers later. The cars were all the old-fashioned type, like something out of a black-and-white Hollywood film. Most people were dressed in áo dài, the traditional long tunic, the women with their hair wrapped around their heads, the men wearing turbans. Some carried baskets on their heads or at the end of long bamboo poles that bobbed up and down with their hurried steps. The drivers—the word chauffeur came unbidden to her mind—were attired in Western clothes, but those, too, were old-fashioned.

Thu stared at them, and they stared back.

Heart racing, she went carefully around the group. Once out of their sight, she ran down the much-traveled path back to the museum, not caring what she might look like to passers-by. All she could think was that perhaps, perhaps, once she got herself within the museum's walls, she could gather her thoughts and figure out what the hell was going on.

She skidded to a stop.

The museum rose in front of her, the octagonal roof of its main tower silhouetted against the night sky like a beacon. But it stood in the midst of a construction site, filled with loose bricks and heaps of sand and other material, with no sign of the lush garden surrounding it. This building was still being completed. And the sign over the front gate said École française d'Extrême-Orient, not Vietnam National Museum of History. French School of the Far East.

Feeling like she was losing her mind, Thu took a few steps back, trying to get her bearing. The sidewalk hit her ankles, making her stumble. Then she noticed that the sidewalk was grass, with just a narrow strip of stone in the middle, instead of being paved all over as it usually was. For some reason, this tiny detail broke her, and she sunk to the grass, reaching her hands up to grip her head.

The motion made her realize that she had something scrunched up in her palm. She looked down. It was the paper that the man in the elevator had given her. Now she stared at it. The words jumped out at her: RULES FOR TIME TRAVELERS. She could read them, but their meaning was lost on her. Time travelers? Time travelers?! Surely not...

"This can't be," she said again.

Running footsteps broke through her jumble of thoughts, making her look up. She expected another rickshaw driver, but only saw a white figure emerging from a dark side street, rushing toward her. She automatically scooted back, but it was too late. The figure tripped over her and went sprawling on the sidewalk.

Thu jumped to her feet. The figure also scrambled to its hands and knees and whirled around. In the murky light of the street lamps, Thu could see that it was a man—a young man, little more than a boy, really, a Westerner, dark eyes wide in panic, dark curly hair plastered to his head with sweat, his hat having flown off in his fall.

For a split second, they both stared at each other in shock and confusion, not knowing what to do. Then the young man whipped his head wildly about, looking to both sides of the street and behind her. Thu turned as well, trying to see what was scaring him, when she suddenly found herself seized by the shoulders and dragged behind one of the towers of bricks that lined the sidewalk in front of the construction site.

"Cachez-moi!" the man hissed into her ear.

Thu recognized the words as French, though she had no idea what he was saying. "Sorry, I don't speak French," she said automatically in English.

The man's eyes went even wider. "You speak English?" he exclaimed.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Then I'm so sorry about this, but hide me, please!" He had a British accent.

Utterly confused now, Thu looked behind her. Now she saw them - two men, also Westerners, coming out of the same side street, also dressed in white, though their clothes looked more like military uniforms. They were older than the young man holding her shoulders, one with a full beard, the other sporting what could only be described as a Hitler mustache.

Thu couldn't think why anyone would wear such a mustache unironically after 1945. That meant—

"What year is this?" she asked.

Now it was the young man's turn to look confused. "What?"

"What year is this?" Thu repeated.

The young man looked at her again from head to toe, from her hair worn in a short bob, down to her clothes - a button-up and cropped jeans, and eventually stopping at her sneakers. To her surprise, recognition dawned in his eyes.

It was that faint look of recognition that made Thu do what she did next.

The two pursuers were coming close now. One of them caught sight of her and signaled to his friend. Their pace quickened. There was no point in trying to make a dash for the building now, they would be sure to see her.

"Be quiet and follow my lead," she said.

Before the young man could ask what she meant, she shoved him against the bricks and pushed his face into her chest.

One of the men shout something in France, probably calling to her. She pretended not to hear and started wriggling her body and moaning in what she thought was a display of carnal pleasure. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the two men slow to a stop across the road.

"Officers!" she squealed in Vietnamese. "Looking for something? Or someone?"

The men narrowed their eyes. The one with the Hitler mustache stepped forward, but the bearded one held him back. They cast their eyes around the murky isolation of the construction site and muttered something to each other. Thu caught the word "gái", which simply meant "girl" in modern days, but she knew it once carried a far more derogatory connotation, especially in the mouth of a foreigner. Gái. Whore. Her face burned.

Under her hands, the young man squirmed, but she held him close. "Just hold me and stay still!" she hissed. To his credit, he immediately threw his arms around her waist and mewled some incoherent words of ecstasy into her chest, keeping up the charade. His arms were surprisingly strong, and he smelled of something familiar that she couldn't quite place. Somehow, that familiar scent made the whole thing feel more real, less like a dream. There had never been any smells in her dreams.

"I'm almost done with this one," she said brightly, still using Vietnamese. "It can be your turn next!" She could be reciting the Declaration of Independence for all they knew, but suppose they did understand Vietnamese? She wanted to be on the safe side.

The two men hesitated, then one of them spat on the ground, shook his head, and walked off. The other one, after throwing one last disgusted glare at Thu, followed his friend.

"Oh, yes, just like that! Yes!" she shouted, still keeping the young man's face squished into her chest. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, through her shirt, but it was nothing compared to the flush scorching her face. What the hell was she doing? What the hell was she even thinking? She wasn't exactly a prude, but she had never been touchy-feely either, and here she was, draping herself over a strange man, all because he hadn't seemed totally surprised when she'd asked what year it was.

"Are they gone?" he whispered.

"Yes!"

She looked behind her. The men had disappeared back down the side street. "OK, they're gone," she said in English, careful to keep her voice low, and let go of the young man. "So sorry about that."

"No apologies needed," the young man said. His face was scarlet, from embarrassment, or from lack of air after being smushed into her chest, or both. "Thank you. You're lucky they're not gendarmes though, or they would've arrested you for being an unregistered prostitute."

"Gendarmes?" she repeated.

"The police," he explained. Her memories supplied a word of pidgin French - sen đầm. Yes, that was what they used to call the police in Vietnam during the French colonial period.

"So what are they?"

The young man looked uncomfortable. "Legionnaires," he said. Another word of pidgin French came into her mind - lê dương. Also from the colonial period.

"Why were you being chased by legionnaires?"

"Why did you ask me what year this is?" he said, his dark eyes scrutinizing her.

"So what year is this?" she asked again, though she already had a pretty good idea.

He looked at her some more, before answering, "1929."

She was almost spot-on. From the state of the museum building and the IDEO Printing House, she'd guessed somewhere between 1926 and 1932. The people's clothes, the cars, the street signs, they all fit. But being correct did little to alleviate her shock. She sat down on the sidewalk again.

"What year did you come from?" the young man asked, kneeling down next to her and picking up his hat.

She glanced sharply at him. "Why'd you ask that?"

"Did you come here in a lift?"

Now she turned her whole body around to look him square in the eye.

"Who are you?" Had she run into a Time Lord?

"I'm Ralph. Ralph Penbury," he said. Thank Heavens. If he answered with another question, she was going to have to throttle him. "And you are—?"

"Thu Nguyen," she replied.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mademoiselle Thu Nguyen." The young man, Ralph, took her limp hand in his own and gave it a shake. "You are the fifth time traveler I've met."

***

Thu dragged Ralph to the Printing House, but it was shut for the night, the workers gone, the papers distributed to newsstands, ready to be sold the next morning. "The elevator's in here," she said, again and again, as if afraid he wouldn't believe her. "There was this homeless-looking guy operating it. He gave me this." She showed him the list of rules.

"Homeless Pete," Ralph said.

"You know him?!" Thu whirled around in excitement.

"Not really, no," Ralph replied, and she deflated. "I don't even know what he looks like."

"So how do you know all this?"

"I told you, I've met time travelers before. Not here," he quickly added. "Back in London, where I'm from. A few years ago. A jazz quartet. They didn't say which year they came from exactly, but I gathered they were from your time. They wore similar shoes." He nodded at her sneakers.

"But that doesn't explain how a homeless man with a time machine from London ended up here..."

"That, I don't know."

"Maybe it's you!" she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she pointed an accusing finger at him, cutting him off. "Think about it. People can go their entire lives without running into a single time traveler, yet you've met five of them, in two different places! What are the odds?!"

"If I had access to a time machine, do you think I would stay in this mosquito-infested hellhole?" he snapped.

Thu's patriotism rose at his jab. "Watch it," she said sternly. "It's my mosquito-infested hell hole you're talking about."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Did they return to their time, this jazz quartet?"

"... I don't know," he said again, looking miserable. "I left London soon after, and I haven't heard from them since."

Thu leaned against the front door of the Printing House, heedless of the powdery ink coating it, and rubbed a hand over her face. Now that the shock was wearing off, exhaustion was rushing in. It was long past her dinner time; she was hungry, thirsty, and in dire need of a shower. Did they even have showers here? Probably not.

The whole thing didn't seem real. As those prone to daydreaming often did, she had occasionally wondered what it would be like to travel to the past, but of course, in her dream, it was always a carefully planned affair, where she could come and go as she pleased, like a tourist. Certainly, it didn't involve being dropped into the middle of history like this.

"What are you going to do now?" Ralph asked.

"Absolutely no idea," she replied, her head in her hands.

"I—uh, my lodgings are near here. Why don't you stay with me tonight, and we'll figure something out in the morning?"

Thu lifted her head to gaze at him suspiciously. He was twisting the brim of his hat between his hands. In normal circumstances, she would probably think twice about following a strange man to who knew where, but this was far from normal. He was the only one who had some idea of what she was going through. What would be her alternative? Wandering the streets in the dark, searching for a homeless man who she couldn't even be sure would be here?

And so Thu went with Ralph back to his rooms on Rue Borgnis Desbordes. It took her a while, in her fatigue and confusion, to recognize it as Tràng Thi Street. All the familiar street signs were changed now, their names in French. Thu knew now how Marty McFly felt when he went back to 1955. Though unlike Marty, she probably didn't have to worry about jeopardizing her own existence. In 1929, her great-grandparents were still agricultural laborers near the ancient capital of Hue, and her grandparents weren't even born yet, so there was no worry about ruining her parents' chance of meeting and falling in love. And also unlike Marty, her Doc Brown was a wide-eyed young man who seemed as clueless as she was.

He led her to a shop with the sign A. Davinier, Studio de Photographie above it.

"You're a photographer?" she asked, as she followed him into a darkened front hall and up a staircase to the second floor.

"Assistant," he said over his shoulder. "But Monsieur Davinier has gone back to France for his mother's funeral, so I'm looking after the studio now."

He opened the door and flipped a switch, showing a small living room, with a door leading to what was presumably the bedroom. Thu was surprised at the familiarity of the simple furnishing, the ceiling fan, tiled floor, and rattan table and chairs - one of her best friends from high school had grown up in the Old Quarter, and her living room was just like this. If it wasn't for the lack of modern devices like TVs and phones, she might have never left at all.

She sank gratefully onto the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" Ralph asked.

"Some water, please." She would've preferred a Coke for the sugar and the caffeine, but she didn't think they had Coke yet.

"Coming right up," he said and went to a cupboard in a corner of the room. "Or perhaps you would prefer coffee?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Shit, you guys got coffee?" she asked.

Her surprise seemed to bemuse Ralph. "Yes...?" he said uncertainly. Thu reminded herself that she was in 1929, not 1429, and with the French here, of course they would have certain amenities.

"Yes, coffee would be lovely, thank you."

Soon the smell of coffee was filling the little room, and some of Thu's senses and strength returned. However, her head still felt sore, as if her thoughts had been churning around a bit too vigorously, so she tried to focus on immediate matters instead of thinking ahead. Get some food and drink. Get some rest. Stay in the moment.

Ralph put a cup of coffee and a plate of bread in front of her, looking sheepish. "Sorry, that's all I have left," he said. "I would offer you some butter as well, but the ants have gotten to it."

"No, this is more than kind. Thank you."

Thu's hunger wasn't so great that she didn't notice the bread was stale and dry. Why did they never mention food in those time-traveling books? It was always "don't cause a rip in the space-time continuum" and "don't become your own grandfather", and never about where to find proper food and shelter. Still, she was hungry enough to overlook it, and she washed the dry bread down with the coffee, which was strong and sweet, and felt a little better.

Ralph stood over her, watching her with a mixture of curiosity, awe, and solicitude, like he was expecting her to disappear into thin air. She gave him an embarrassed smile, knowing she wasn't exactly displaying the elegant manner that the young ladies of Hanoi were famous for, but she was past caring.

"The bathroom's downstairs, behind the shop," he said, "though if you want hot water, you have to heat it yourself—"

"That's fine, I don't need hot water—"

"—and you can take the bedroom—"

"Oh no, that won't be necessary. I can sleep on the couch."

He shuffled his feet, seemingly at a loss. "Well, I'll leave you to get some rest then," finally he said, and went into the bedroom, shutting the door after himself.

After she finished eating, Thu went into the bathroom and tried to clean up as best as she could. It wasn't until she tried getting comfortable on the couch - with some blankets and a pillow that Ralph had no doubt placed there for her, a considerate gesture that she found oddly touching - that she realized he hadn't told her why those legionnaires were chasing after him. She wondered what a young man from London was doing in French Indochina. But the adrenaline rush of the night, coupled with a caffeine crash, wore her out, and she sank into an exhausted sleep before she could think of an answer.

Chapter 3

#ralph penbury #ralph penbury fic #ralph timewasters #ralph x ofc #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

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theemptybloggercometh · 7 months

Text

Bad Thoughts

A fanfic I wrote for Ace week

Fandom: The Bright Sessions

Characters: Chloe (and my OC: Brandon Harman). Also features Sam

Context: Set in between Series 2 & 3

Summary: Chloe’s visit to a new art exhibition turns into a nightmare

Triggers Warnings: Misgendering, the effects of a car crash, drink driving/texting, classism, mention of Trump, reference to motion sickness (but no vomiting), explicit sexual and kink references, racism, homophobia, attempted corrective rape and its immediate traumatic effects, acephobia

Word Count: 6645

Chloe had won a competition she had seen in the college newspaper for tickets to the opening of an exhibition by one of her favourite local artists however the limo that was to take her there was late and this was only the start of an evening that just got worse and worse.

She was now getting a little uneasy and got up from the couch where she had been sitting and walked over to the window to peer out to the street but still couldn’t see any vehicle that looked remotely limo shaped.

“I’m wondering if I should give the organisers a call?” she asked her mom

“What time did they say it would be here?” her mom replied

“Between quarter past and half three” Chloe replied biting her lip

“Maybe it’s stuck in traffic?”

“Could be” Chloe agreed “I mean it’s got to pick Dakota up and they live on the other side of the city…I’m not sure where Brandon lives”.

Going back to the couch, Chloe got out her cell again and opened up the email from the competition organisers:

Congratulations Chloe (it read), you a winner!!!

Your prize will be a limo transporting you and the two other winners to the Blank Canvas Art Gallery where you will be able to enjoy ‘Art Factory’, an exciting brand-new exhibition by the talented local artist Olivia Carter. Not only will you have VIP tickets to this event but your prize also includes a private meet and greet with Olivia herself. After all that, you will have an overnight stay in the luxury of The Metropolitan Hotel before a limo brings you back home.

(See below for timings for the limo’s and check out time for the hotel. Please be advised that you will be given the time for the meet and greet at the venue)

Chloe paused reading as she tried to make out the thought she was hearing; someone was annoyed, yes, certainly annoyed.

They never tell me anything…it’s not my fault if they give me the wrong time…and the wrong address

“I think I can hear the limo driver” ventured Chloe

No sooner than she had said that the front doorbell rang. Chloe went again to the window and looking further down the road, she saw a limo parked way, way down the street. Going to her front door, she opened it to a man, very close to retirement, who was wearing chauffeur livery.

“Miss Turner?” he enquired

“Yeah, that’s me” said Chloe

The chauffeur smiled “Good to meet you, Miss Turner. My sincere apologies for being late”

“It’s no problem at all and please, call me Chloe”

“As you wish, Chloe. I’m Robert and I’ll be your driver today.”

“Great. Just let me grab my stuff then we can go?”

“Sure thing”

Chloe went back into the sitting room and picked up her phone, her clutch and her travel bag. Her mom wished her a good time as they hugged goodbye and then Chloe went to the front door again.

“Can I help you with your bag” Robert enquired

“Sure thing” replied Chloe

As Robert took the bag from Chloe they began to walk down her street. Finally, they got to the limo and he opened the door for her. She climbed in and saw, sitting on the opposite side, Brandon, a tall, slim guy with short brown hair and a tanned complexion which contrasted nicely with his sky-blue suit. All Chloe really knew about him was that he was a year older than her and that he was also a student at the college. She had seen him a few times in the Art department however she had never spoken to him and considering how literally every other student thought he was jerk she hadn’t gone out of her way to introduce herself to him until they had met at the office of the college newspaper to collect the tickets.

“Hey” said Chloe as she sat down on the soft leather seat

Brandon was looking out of the window and replied to her greeting without turning his head towards her.

As the limo pulled away from the curb, Chloe enquired “Where’s Dakota? I thought I was the last to be picked up?”

Brandon slowly turned towards Chloe and said “Oh sh-they couldn’t make it”

Chloe’s eyes narrowed; did he nearly misgender Dakota by accident, she wondered, or was it on purpose? But what she said was “Oh dear, that’s too bad”

She had always enjoyed talking to Dakota while they had worked in the studio together so she had been looking forward to spending an extended amount of time with them. Spending time with Brandon, especially now being alone with him, not so much.

I hope she doesn’t expect us to spend all of the evening together

You me both, she said to herself in reply to his thought. Yet she also liked to think that she tried to see the best in people so she really should at least make a little bit of an effort to get along with him – who knows maybe he wasn’t as bad everybody had said he was.

“So…” she began, as the limo reached the freeway, trying to think of a suitable conversation starter “did you go and see Olivia’s last exhibition?”

“I did, yeah. In fact, I went to that opening night as well” he replied in a bored tone

“Oh wow; how did you swing that?”

“My parents brought me tickets – they have a lot of money. They had already said they were going to pay for me to go before I had even entered the competition”

Chloe wanted to ask why then he did he enter and not let another person have an opportunity to go but she didn’t want to get into a disagreement – at least not this early on – so instead asked Brandon what he had thought about the previous exhibition.

“I’m not really into all that abstract expressionism stuff to be honest” he replied

As he was saying that Chloe got a real sense that he was exasperated at her…no, it was more about…

How can art just be shapes put together in any random order in an afternoon…how could this type of art be celebrated as genius when my own painstakingly detailed paintings which have taken me all year sure as hell ain’t

This time Chloe couldn’t stop herself “Then why are you going?” she asked, trying at the last moment to sound inquisitive and not accusative – though she wasn’t sure she entirely succeeded

“It’s an amazing networking opportunity” he replied simply

It might be Olivia Carter’s event, but I’m the one all those buyers, sellers, agents and reporters are going to remember

Absorbing this thought, Chloe shook her head and turned to look out of the window as the freeway blurred past

The limo had made up some good time by the time it reached the other city and Chloe was optimistic that they were going to arrive just before the exhibition opened at half eight. As they got to the city centre however this hope was crushed when they hit a huge traffic jam. Chloe occasionally looked at the time on her cell but while the minutes ticked past the limo remained motionless. Eventually, at 20.47, she went onto Google Maps. Apparently the gallery was a thirty-minute walk from where they were; so close yet so far…unless…

“You know, I was thinking that it might be better to walk to the gallery rather than waiting for the traffic to improve” she suggested

“I mean you can if you want to” Brandon sneered “but what kind of impression am I going to make if I turn up like that and anyway, have you ever heard of fashionable late?”

Chloe was really taken aback by the incredulous tone of his voice and took a deep breath to stop herself from retorting. It was, she thought, becoming harder and harder to give him the benefit of the doubt

Ten minutes later the limo finally started to move again and it soon they passed an intersection where one car was bent around another. Two EMT’s were working on the occupant of one of the cars while crouched down on the side of the road between two cops was a man, probably no older than Chloe, with his head bent towards his handcuffed hands.

So stupid…messaging her could have waited… it was only one drink…but why, why didn’t I get a cab…

“Oh my god” muttered Chloe

As the limo entered the cultural quarter, Robert came through on the intercom to ask them if they were okay with taking them to the exhibition before he went to the hotel to drop off their luggage off or did they want to freshen up at the hotel first.

“I’m happy with going straight there please” replied Chloe

“And Mr Harman?” Robert’s voice enquired

“Take us to the exhibit” Brandon commanded

Yet Chloe could hear him think that this was against his better judgement and that his dad always says don’t trust ‘the help’ and that it was a good thing his case had a combination lock

The cultural quarter had been undergoing a renaissance as of late. Indeed, it had only been in the last fourteen years that it had acquired the description of being the cultural quarter as long before the brightly colored museums, galleries and theatres there once stood factories as far as the eye could see. Some of the older folks who had lived in the area all their lives like to boast that their great-grandfathers had worked in these factories when they had opened in the 1880’s. Production though had started to slow by the time of the Kennedy assassination and in the same month Carter won the presidency the sounds of industry finally fell silent. The quarter looked destined to be forever neglected, abandoned even, until a new city mayor pledged to regenerate it. This had been met with varying degrees of approval; some welcomed the influx of money and attention whereas others thought the administration was wasting money that would better be spend on restoring the former industries – many of these would be voting for Trump in the upcoming election. Back then the mayor had appeased these voters by ordering that as long as the buildings was still structurally sound, they couldn’t be torn down; architects, he said, could make all the changes that they wanted inside but they couldn’t change the outside. This is why Chloe thought of the TARDIS when she finally entered The Blank Canvas Art Gallery.

The event was in full swing and about a hundred other people were standing around the large room; some looking at the pieces and some standing around high bar tables chatting with each other. Chloe had already admired Olivia for picking a fledgling independent venue for the exhibition and was now positively delighted at all the great publicity the event would give the gallery.

Someone waved to Brandon and he went to join them leaving Chloe by the entrance Even though she was prepared for the sudden influx of thoughts it was still like a thunderclap going off in her head. She stood still for a few minutes while doing a mindfulness exercise that Dr Bright had taught her and when she was more centred she started to look at the pieces on display. When she finally got a to the main piece in the centre of the hall simply titled ‘Factory’, she was so deep in thought that the voices in her head had turned all the way down to a barely discernible hum.

A waiter approached Chloe with a tray full of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. She took a glass of champagne and then started to walk over to a vacant table. On her way there though she looked to her right and saw Olivia, her of the purple suit that was her trademark look for opening nights, on a table with a few other people. As soon as Chloe changed direction towards Olivia’s table she could feel the butterflies of excited nervousness start up in her stomach.

Chloe took a deep breath as she approached the table “um…Olivia?”

Olivia’s turned around to face Chloe and replied ‘Yeah, hi!”

“I’m Chloe, it’s great to meet you. I love your work. This is a great exhibition”

I love her enthusiasm but she’s speaking too fast, what was her name again?

“Oh, it’s Chloe, sorry, when I’m excited I start to ramble”

“Don’t apologise Chloe” Olivia said with a big smile on her face “I’m glad you like it”

Chloe hoped that Olivia didn’t realise that she, Chloe, had answered a question that Olivia hadn’t actually asked out loud. Thankfully her fangirling seemed to have distracted Olivia. To help the conversation along Chloe mentioned that she was an art student.

“Oh yes!” cried Olvia with a look of recollection “you’re at the college, right? One of the competition winners, right?”

“That’s right. There was three of us but one couldn’t make so there’s only me and Brandon”

And just then, as if on cue, Brandon came sauntering towards them. After the introductions had been made, he instantly moved onto asking when they would be having their meet and greet.

“Um…” Olivia replied hesitantly “I’m not sure that was what was agreed, hang on a sec, let me just get my secretary”

She looked around and then went over to another table – ironically the one Chloe was originally going to go to – after a few seconds of talking to a man brought him over to Chloe and Brandon. Chloe could hear him think something about them not liking what he was about to impart.

“This is Jack” Olivia told them “I think there might be a bit of a mix-up”

“Oh?” asked Chloe

“Yeah…” Jack said taking up the explanation “we had discussed that with the college newspaper as part of the prize but as far as I’m aware they never confirmed it”

“Okay, but we can just do an impromptu meet and greet now” demanded Brandon

“I’m afraid that it’s a ‘rule’ of mine only to do prearranged meet-ups” Olivia said biting her lip “Sorry about that”

Chloe heard Brandon think that this was bullshit as he tutted, turned on his heel and marched away.

“I hope your friends not too upset” Olivia said

“Oh, he’s not my friend” clarified Chloe “but let me apologise for him all the same”

“Tell you what” said Olivia as she reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out her phone “let me take down both of your emails and Jack and I will arrange something for next month, how does that sound?”

“That sounds great, thanks so much” replied a smiling Chloe

A few hours later the event was winding down and Chloe was standing on bottom most step to the entrance of the venue beside a group who were waiting for an Uber. She knew that not because she had heard their thoughts but because they were having a good-natured disagreement regarding how one of their number was trying to pay the whole fare instead of splitting it.

Chloe was thinking about getting an Uber herself and leaving Brandon there, however, with everything that had happened, she had a bad feeling about their room booking. She looked towards the group again and in particular a person with a shaved head and hazel beard who was wearing a magnificent ruby red ball gown.

I don’t’ care what Kate says I’m riding shotgun… car sickness + alcohol is a bad, bad combination

A car pulled up by the sidewalk and the group went to get in. Chloe smiled as the person who was worried about being car sick went straight to the passenger side door and hopped in before their friends had seemingly taken two steps forward.

As the car pulled away, a cool breeze picked up. Chloe wrapped her arms around her shoulders; an off-shoulder dress had seemed a good idea at the time but she hadn’t factored in that, even though it was warm during the evening, by 11pm the temperature would drop considerably. She shivered and then retrieved her phone from her clutch. Getting the Uber app up, she was just about to type in the name of the hotel when Brandon came out of the venue talking to a man who was eighty if he was a day. She carried on using the app as the man said that he would give Brandon a call one day next week.

“I’m just ordered an Uber” said Chloe when he had walked over to where she was standing

“Uh huh” Brandon muttered

“Oh and by the way Olivia wants to arrange something next month for us, I gave her your email” said Chloe and when he didn’t reply, she continued sarcastically “‘gee thanks Chloe for doing that, that was really nice of her to still include me after I was a jerk’ ‘oh not at all Brandon, don’t mention it’”

They stood in stony silence for the nine minutes it took for the Uber to arrive and then they continued to ignore each other throughout the journey to the hotel.

Situated on the corner of 6th and Maple, The Metropolis Hotel was an impressive five story art deco building that, as the large sign on the front portico said, had warmly welcomed wanderers since 1922. Stepping into the lobby with all its period pieces was like stepping back in time; Chloe actually quietly whistled in admiration at how beautiful it all was.

They went up to the front desk where the receptionist was currently seeing to a couple in their early thirties, the man in beige chinos and a white polo shirt and the woman in an open necked pink blouse and a pair of white tailored shorts. Chloe looked past them to the receptionist who, even though she was on night duty had no right to look that wide awake, then back to the couple.

Take his cock out of his underwear…put my tongue on its tip…watch him shiver

Tie her to the bed…get the flogger…spank her ass raw…’til she begs for mercy

Chloe blinked a few times but apart from that showed no reaction to what she had just heard. She reflected that would have been different a few years ago like when she was waiting to cross the sidewalk with a girl around the same age as her; hearing the girl think about her fantasy about having anal for the first time left her opened mouthed. Initially she was ashamed of herself for slut shaming this girl but then on closer inspection realised that her shock came from how different the girls’ thoughts about sex were compared to her own.

Chloe was brought back to the present by Brandon, now at the front desk, saying “We have a couple of bookings under the names of Harman and…”

“Turner” supplied Chloe as, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the couple get into the elevator

The receptionist, who’s name tag said ‘Sofia’, typed a few things into the computer and then furrowed her brow as she tapped the up and down keys. Brandon added to the noise by drumming his fingers on the wooden surface of the countertop.

“Um–” Sofia began but was interrupted by Brandon

“What?” he snapped which made Chloe wince

“Um…so we do have bookings under that name but–”

“But what? What’s the problem now?”

“It seems that the booking is for tomorrow night and not tonight”

“So just move the booking forward” he ordered condescendingly

“I can do that; however, I was just going to let you know that we only have one more room available tonight” replied Sofia steadily

Chloe had to admire her professionalism.

“Fine” said Brandon shaking his head

That was not ‘fine’ thought Chloe. She knew she would scream if she had to spend any longer with him. On the other hand, was she seriously considering looking for another hotel at nearly midnight as a woman of color in a city she didn’t know?

Sighing, she conceded “yeah, all right. Thank you”

Sofia smiled at her and then started to check them in “Your bags are in our storage closet; the bellhop will bring them up when they take you to the room”

She finished typing and then passed a keycard to Brandon. As she did so Chloe distinctly heard her think that he was an asshole.

Chloe’s first thought as she entered through the black door to Room 56 was how spacious it was, but it would have surprised her if she had learnt that their room was in fact one of the smaller ones available. The bellhop was called Mario and he was pointing out various things in the room: there was a silk covered king-sized bed to the left on the far side of the which was the ensuite, on the other side of the bed was the walk-in wardrobe, then there was the minibar under the long counter to the right, then there was the armchair with a matching stool and then finally there was the floor to ceiling window with its impressive view of the flickering cityscape.

“And if there’s anything else you need be sure to give the front desk a ring” Mario said completing his spiel as he pointed to the phone that was on the polished marble surface of counter. Chloe glanced over and was a tiny bit disappointed that, unlike the lobby, the amenities were all modern and not period pieces.

“Thanks so much, Mario” she replied as she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill from her clutch and handed it to him.

Brandon came up beside her with a handful of notes and gave one to Mario. Just before Mario’s hand closed around the bill, Chloe could just make out Washington’s portrait. He then pocketed the notes before discreetly leaving the room

While Brandon went straight to the minibar and quickly selected a Coke, a Hersey bar and a packet of Red Vines, Chloe got her travel bag from where Mario had deposited it and went into the bathroom. After locking the door, she slipped off her yellow dress and stood in front of the golden framed mirror in her black panties and a white bra debating whether to take the latter off. Electing to keep it on, she then put on a gray vest top and a pair of purple pyjama shorts before going over to the sink with her washbag and doing her evening skin care routine.

Re-entering the main room, where Brandon was sat in the armchair tapping away on his phone, she went over to the left side of the bed and set the travel bag down onto the covers. Plucking out her copy of the Welcome to Night Vale novel from the bottom of her bag she then placed it onto the bedside table before placing the bag back down onto the carpet. After getting into the bed, she put several soft pillows behind her back and then started to read.

Later on, she had just started a new chapter when she heard Brandon think about getting ready for bed. He then picked up his own bag and went into the bathroom. As he was locking the door, Chloe turned a page and noticed the bag of Red Vines on the other side of the bed. She then glanced at the minibar but her eyes went straight back to the book. Hang on a moment, she thought, any charge would be billed to the college newspaper. Even so, she was still hesitant. Yet if she couldn’t treat herself on this night of all nights then when could she treat herself? And didn’t the college newspaper owe them for all the things that had gone wrong? Putting down her book on the bedside table, she got out of the bed and wondered over to the minibar. She crouched down and scanned the contents behind the glass door. Finally, after a few minutes, she decided on some Oreo’s.

Back in bed, she had just opened the packet when she heard the bathroom door open. Brandon, having changed into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a faded t-shirt which had the name of the college emblazoned on it, walked back into the room and threw his bag onto the armchair. Throughout this, Chloe hadn’t moved her eyes away from the book; she stopped halfway through a sentence though when the weight distribution of the mattress shifted slightly as Brandon got into the other side of the bed. Chloe inhaled deeply and went back to reading but didn’t get very far as Brandon then decided to play YouTube clips of The Big Bang Theory at full volume.

Ten minutes later Chloe had given up trying to read and was now on her own cell. Brandon locked his mobile and turned his head towards her “You know” he said “it’s good that the other winners weren’t guys”

“Okay, I’ll bite” said Chloe through gritted teeth and, although she had a pretty good idea why already, she asked “why is it a good thing?”

“Well, think about it, two or three guys sharing the same bed would be well gay”

Chloe shook her head and went back to scrolling through Instagram; yet she could sense his eyes still looking at her.

“So….” he remarked after a few seconds “this evening hasn’t gone exactly as it was supposed to go, has it? But maybe that’s not such a bad thing after all, you know?”

Chloe liked a post by Caleb and then though about maybe getting her earbuds from her travel bag.

“I mean” he continued “here we are, two young adults in a new city, two young single adults sharing a bed. Anything could happen…”

At this Chloe pursing her lips together.

“Come on” he said while reaching over and touching her shoulder “you know you want to”

After taking a deep breath Chloe put her cell down onto her lap and turned to face him again.

“No. I really don’t” she said defiantly as she felt her temper rise

He laughed “Yeah, sure you don’t”

“I know I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last guy in this city”

“Your loss” Brandon said as he shrugged his shoulders “Things like this don’t come around every day, you know. I bet you’ll be kicking yourself this time next week when you realise that you gave up a great opportunity”

“Not a chance” spat Chloe “for your information, I’m queer”

Brandon again laughed and shook his head “You’re not gay, not really”

“Is that so?”

“Of course; girls like you think you are, but all you need is a guy to help you think straight…”

Even if she hadn’t had her ability, Chloe would have known what Brandon was thinking. She wanted to retort something, anything but her throat had gone suddenly extremely dry.

“Um…” was all she managed to get out after what felt like an eternity “um…give me a sec, yeah, okay?”

She then got out of the bed and furtively held her mobile close to her hip that was furthest from the bed. She quickly crossed the room to the bathroom and locked the door equally fast. Grabbing the heavy stone soap dish from the side of the sink, she then knelt behind the free-standing bath listening for any movement from beyond the door but all she could hear was her own breath, fast and shallow.

The first rays of the new day’s sunlight woke Chloe from a light doze. Unlocking her mobile, she saw that it was 5.42 and that she had ten percent battery life remaining. Better not use her phone unless it was urgent she thought as she got up from the floor and stretched; her back though screamed at her about having been pressed up against a hard wall for the past few hours.

As she was using the toilet, her mind recalled how Brandon had called out a few times after she had been in the bathroom for around three minutes and how he must have got bored soon after as the shard of light that came underneath the bathroom door disappeared. At the time, this didn’t give her as much comfort so for the next few hours she had maintained her vigil by the bath. At one point, around when her phone had said it was 01.55, she debated whether or not to call reception, but what would she say, really; that Brandon had said a few problematic things? The longer she thought about it, the more she began to doubt if he had really meant it or if he had only been ribbing her; if he had really meant it, surely he would have forced his way into the bathroom already? But then again could she really take that risk; did she fully trust that he wouldn’t attempt something? Shortly afterwards, she had leant against the back wall and had been drifting in and out of sleep since around half two.

Chloe now went to the door of the bathroom and gently unlocked it. Peering out to the main room, she could see Brandon’s sleeping form lying face down in a collection of pillows. She stealthily crept out of the bathroom and over to where her travel bag and book were and put one into each hand. Halfway back to the bathroom, the bag brushed past the counter which made Chloe stop dead in her tracks with her heart in her mouth as she waited to see if this was enough noise to wake Brandon up. He must have been in a really deep sleep though as all he did was roll onto his left-hand side. Letting go off the breath she didn’t know she was holding she lifted the bag to her chest and carried on walking to the bathroom where she ensured the door was definitely locked. Off went her pyjamas to be replaced with a blue and white striped top, a pair of skinny jeans and black Converse. She put her phone in her back pocket and the book and pyjamas into the bag before doing up the zip. She quietly left the bathroom with the bag and tip toed her way over to the main door where she softly turned the handle. Opening it only as far as she needed to get through, she then kept her hand on the wood as it closed to ensure it did so as gently as possible.

Half an hour later, having walked a few blocks away from the hotel, Chloe found a twenty-four-hour vegan coffee shop and had just sat down after purchasing bagels and a large soymilk latte. Her cell, which had its power chord plugged into the wall socket under the table, vibrated and the screen lit up.

Sam: How was the exhibition?

That was so like Sam, Chloe thought, even with everything going on in her own life she’s still so thoughtful about what’s happening in my own.

Yet if it was just gone half six where Chloe was…

Chloe: what time is it where ur at?

Sam: You’re up already! I didn’t expect you to reply so soon. I thought you would have been up half the night partying

Chloe: i have been up half the night but not partying

Sam: What do you mean?

Chloe typed out that she had been hiding in a bathroom after being nearly raped but then reconsidered and deleted the last word replacing it with ‘assaulted’. Her thumb hovered over the send button but instead of pressing it she instead put the cell down back down onto the table.

Was that what really happened, she thought; was it really the beginning of an attempted corrective rape or, as she had thought in the hotel bathroom, was Brandon just saying anything he could think of to rile her up? She hadn’t kept her queerness hidden on campus, after all – even if people did sometimes ask her what the badge on the lapel of her denim jacket meant. When she told them it was the ace flag and explained asexuality to them even the more progressive leaning people had a hard time believing that she didn’t feel any sexual attraction at all. How many had said something about waiting to find the right guy – before sometimes quickly adding “or girl”? But she didn’t have try out for the netball team back in high school to know she wasn’t interested in playing sports; how was sex and sexual attraction really any different? Now that she thought about it how many steps were between telling her that she needed a partner and that she needed a partner to fuck her straight? And why was it that cis guys always cast themselves in that role of the partner that she needed, that she was missing? Why did they think that their dick, and only their dick, would be capable of saving her from a fate worse than death? And why exactly was dying before having a dick in her so bad anyway?

Chloe suddenly realised that she had begun scrunch up the napkin that was by her coffee mug. She unclenched her hand while closing her eyes and took a deep breath. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again and looked out through the window to the street beyond and noticed a few early commuters in the hazy dawn.

After taking a sip of coffee, she then went back onto her mobile and considered her draft reply again. As she did so she was struck by how clearly she could remember hearing Brandon think…what he had thought.

Chloe: i was nearly raped

Sam: OMG! Are you okay?

Chloe: physically yeah

Chloe: mentally im not sure yet

She wondered if this is why she had tried to minimise, to rationalise, to excuse even what had happened, what she knew had happened? Had it yet to truly sink in because she was in shock?

Her cell lit up again as another message came through.

Sam: Are you safe?

Chloe: yeah im in a coffee shop away from him

But what about the ride home later? Would he try anything then? Even if he didn’t, did she have the energy to deal with being around him?

Chloe: im meant to be getting the limo back with him later this afternoon though

Chloe: im seriously considering going home a different way

Sam: I totally agree

Sam: Is there anything I can do to help?

Chloe: i dont think so not at the moment

Sam: Let me know if that changes, okay?

Chloe: will do

Chloe: thanks

Chloe placed her phone, face down, onto the table and then took a bite of one of the bagel slices. A guy wearing headphones with a coffee in hand passed her table on his way out of the shop.

I love this song…what great lyrics…‘Take what you want from me… I bring it willingly’

Chloe briefly smiled; even with all the crappy things she had heard people think, she was glad she got to hear things like that.

Going back to her mobile, she started to look up how to get back home and after a bit of searching, she found a bus that was leaving at 10.15 and what’s more was relatively cheap. After booking a ticket online, she turned her attention to what to do for the next three hours. She had wanted to check out the Museum of Local History, but this no longer appealed to her. Likewise, she wasn’t in the mood to go down to Riverside Park. She continued to think while she eat her breakfast and by the time she had finished she had decided to just walk around the downtown area.

Later on, she would describe to Sam how she walked these streets in a daze and how after a few hours she found herself at the bus station without really knowing how she got there.

Once her bus had arrived, she got on and chose a seat half-way down. As she waited for it to drive off she got out her phone and sent an email to the competition organisers informing them that she wasn’t going to be taking the limo back home. She sat back and considered how she was going to go about reporting Brandon. But the more she thought about it the less comfortable she got. Not about reporting him, she was certainly going to do that, no doubt about it. But the college administration wasn’t always the best at dealing with this sort of things and even if it dealt with it properly it would take an inordinate amount of time to do so. In the meantime, he would probably think that he had intimidated her into silence, into complicity. Chloe knew that she couldn’t stand for this.

As the bus suddenly started to reverse out of its spot Chloe made an instinctive decision.

“Wait!” she shouted as she stood up and started to advance down the isle “I need to get off”

Chloe had just left another independent coffee shop – it wasn’t a vegan one this time, but at least it wasn’t a Starbucks – and was walking down 6th. When she got to just before The Metropolis Hotel she stopped and got out her cell to check the time. 12.58. Possibly just a few more minutes. She was glad for the amount of foot traffic on the sidewalk. He wouldn’t try anything here…would he?

As she stood there waiting, she reminded herself that she wasn’t doing this to deflect criticism that she hadn’t said no or hadn’t said anything immediately after the event. She knew that what she was just about to do didn’t make her any braver or more valid than the people who didn’t say anything.

At exactly 13.00 the limo pulled up by the hotel. Well, that’s just typical, Chloe thought. She then looked towards the entrance and after a fashion saw Brandon walk out onto the street. She started to advance towards him.

“Brandon!” she shouted when he was about a foot away from the limo

He quickly turned towards her with a sly grin on his face.

Look who’s back

“Hey” he lazily replied

“I had heard a lot of bad things about you before I met you” Chloe said making real effort to keep calm “But I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt; I hoped that maybe you weren’t as bad as everyone said you were. But within less than 24 hours you have proved that you are so much worse”

Brandon laughed “Like I care what you think about me”

“You’ve made that quite clear” Chloe replied “and the worst part is that you’re not going to change, no matter how many people tell you that you’re an absolute jerk”

“Then why are you even wasting your breath”

“Because I don’t want to leave you in any doubt that what you said and what you did was in any way acceptable”

“And what exactly did I do?”

“Cut the crap okay; you know exactly what you did”

Brandon was about to reply but a discreet cough came from his left-hand side as Robert approached them.

“Um…everything okay?” he enquired

“Yeah” replied Brandon tersely

“It’s just that I thought you were getting home a different way Chloe?”

“I am, Robert, yeah” she said “I just wanted to let Brandon know that I’m going to report him for attempted assault”

And with that she turned on her heel and walked back up 6th with a grim feeling of satisfaction.

#ace podcast week #asexual #ace week #the bright sessions #chloe turner #fan fiction #tw sa #queer

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