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candyflosstoxicity · 3 years

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Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

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That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

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It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

#todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x reader #bnha smut #endeavor smut #todoroki enji smut #black reader

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fenheart87 · 3 years

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Sprint Challenge: 3.31.21

I am aware this is a day late but it's finally done!

"Dude, how did you mess this up?!"

"I did everything you told me to!"

"Bro, obviously not! Now we have a sleeping beauty who didn't consent nor a way to wake her up! Our grades are gone and maybe our magical career period! We don't even know if she's a witch or a human!" Nino's voice rose with his stress to a higher pitch, hands clutching his short curls, his hat long forgotten on the floor when he first entered the room.

"I know this Nino!"

"Adrien. Dude, bro I need you to think very carefully and tell me what you used for this potion."

"I don’t remember the exact order but I wrote down most of it on this paper. I used all the ingredients listed, like you told me to." The blonde pulled the page from his spell journal where it was tucked and passed it over for observation.

"Okay well half of these would kill a human, vampire or any type of sea related being. So she's magical somehow at least."

“Because that makes me feel better…” The wind based wizard muttered.

“It should! It means she’s sleeping and not dead, you dummy!” The childish insult slipped out before he could help it and the blonde drew back as if he’d been slapped.

“I’m the dummy? You’re not much better if you can’t reverse the spell you gave me!” Adrien snapped, moving from his seated position to start pacing as the stress was finally hitting him. Even Plagg, his familiar, seemed to be judging his newest failure.

“Dude, chillax. I promise we can fix this, it’s just going to take some time… Hopefully no one puts up a missing poster.” The Earth affiliated wizard-to-be moved from the couch where the young woman slept and started to pull together the ingredients used.

“Nino! Seriously?!”

“Adrien, I got you. It will be fine, now I need your help to recreate this potion so I can figure out a reverse or cure depending on its… Potency.”

Adrien grumbled but made his way over to the workbench, picking up Plagg from the back of the couch on his way. Using the hand written instructions they measured out the ingredients and consulted other books on the different effects mixing the ingredients would have. In the midst of their research a knock sounded at the door. Nino left his blonde friend to answer the door. Pulling the heavy oak open revealed another teen slightly taller and muscular, his hair was a contrast to his dark robes being black faded to teal tips. His hand were raised and empty to show he was non-threatening.

"Hi, I have a somewhat awkward question but I'm looking for someone and hoping you may have seen her? On the petite side, blue black hair in pigtails and wears a ladybug cloak?"

"Sorry can't say that we have, what's her name? We can keep a look out for you."

"That'd be great." The stranger smiled.

"Hey I found something that could help." Adrien piped up from the work table, drawing the other males attention inward.

"Oh thank God you brought her inside."

Now they were both concerned and eyeing the newcomer with suspicion. Between the two, being an air and earth affinity that knew each other from boyhood, they had countless hours of spellcasting and mock fighting techniques that were being geared up to use against this stranger.

“Ah, that didn’t come out right. Her name is Marinette and her familiar Tikki has been looking for her all day. Usually she’s too busy taking care of everyone else that she forgets herself and well, falls into a mild coma to recover. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her fall asleep this deeply though....”

“So uh, my dude…” Nino carefully spoke, shifting slightly so his wand was easier to reach.

“Luka, you might know Juleka? She’s my little sister.”

“Oh, we have potions class together! Juleka never said anything about a brother though.”

“We’re always around each other so no need to miss or talk about each other. So where did you find Sleeping Beauty? Last I knew she was sketching for Mendelvie’s class.”

“Uh, well…” Adrien shared a look with his best friend and decided to come clean with a sheepish countenance. “Funny story, I was making a potion for class and found the last ingredient I needed near where Marinette was sketching… She asked for something to drink and I gave her the wrong jar…”

"Well whatever you put in it definitely worked to get her to sleep but she's not under a sleeping spell. This is for Bustier's test right?" Nino nodded and let Luka in the room, closing the door behind him. "So the version she wants you to make is the hardest version out there and almost no one can make it. Which is the point, it's a test to your abilities to see what your second affinity could be or help pick a specialization. May I see the ingredient list?"

"Sure. So what year are you?" Nino shuffled the ingredients list over and went back to the Wildflowers of the Forest tome to compare.

"Third year, my apprenticeship starts soon." Luka glanced over the ingredients list and paused noticeably, scanning the ingredients on the table. "Are these the exact ingredients you used? Everything looks and smells the same?"

"Yeah, everything's here." Adrien double checked each jar and sprig, only hesitating on the belladonna blossoms. "I used pink ones instead of the purple."

"You sir, are a very lucky accidental genius." The older wizard sighed and the tension seemed to finally melt away. "Your mix up saved her life and created a sleep tonic. Marinette is half Naga and that much belladonna apparently helps her sleep because she has venom sacs that are potent enough to absorb the deadly part."

"We don't need to tell Ms. Bustier do we?" The wind wizard asked nervously.

"Probably, there are other Naga students and I know several other reptile species that could benefit from it. Also incase of a sneak attack the chance to study cures would be invaluable." Luka clapped a gentle hand on each of their shoulders before moving to pick up the still sleeping student. As Marinette yawned she exposed her fangs that were bared as a defense while in her sleeping state, her tongue flickering along Luka's jaw to bury her face in his crook of his shoulder.

"That's kind of creepy but cool…" Nino remarked, starting to clear up the research mess.

"It helps that she knows me, Nagas much like their snake counterparts can taste the air to smell."

"Oh my Gods, Adrien dude! You should totally get with Kagami!"

"What?" The blond was looking at the other like he was crazy with his outburst.

"She's a Naga, they taste air, yanno wind? The only thing that's between your ears?"

"Did you just-" Adrien turned towards Luka who politely coughed carefully to hide his laugh and not wake up the still slumbering girl. "Did he just call me an airhead?!"

"Well I'll leave you to it, let me know if you need anything. Jules knows how to find me." With that parting remark he left the squabbling younger wizards to clean up and compile a report for their grade. With a quick glance around, the wizard opened a secret passageway and took it as a shortcut to near where Marinette's rooms were.

"Mm, my mate… warm and safe, good mate…" Marinette murmured in her sleep and it took everything in Luka to not drop the sleeping girl like she just dropped that bombshell. That was something to unpack at a much later date and when the mixed Naga was awake.

#lukanette endgame #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #fen's plunny corner #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculous ladybug #lovebugs and snake charmers #fantasy au

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gaythingliker69 · 4 years

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PLEASE READ

TW: transphobia, mentions of hate crime

Hi, so since my post the other night I feel a sort of responsibility to tell people the situation of trans people in the UK. The short answer is it’s really bleak. The first thing I’ll mention is that in 2017 a trans woman was given residency in New Zealand from the UK as she faced “persecution” for her gender identity. The NZ authorities ruled that to send her back here would be “unduly harsh”. This must be at the forefront of everyone’s mind when trans rights come up in the UK, though it’s been forgotten over the last few years.

At that point the Labour Party was sort of ok for trans rights, with then leader Jeremy Corbyn calling for self ID. He certainly wasn’t perfect but he was better than his replacement. Corbyn was replaced by Sir Keir Starmer last year, and in his campaign for the leadership he refused to sign a pledge for trans rights, which was signed by his competitors Rebecca Long-Bailey and Lisa Nandy. The fourth contender, Emily Thornberry, refused to sign the pledge but spoke of her support for trans rights after the fact. Gemma Stone, a trans woman who said she was considering joining Labour but decided against it, described Starmer’s silence on the issue as “deafening”.

These days, Parliamentary support for trans rights comes from the backbenches - Members of Parliament who don’t hold a position as a government minister or shadow government minister. These include Zarah Sultana (the responses on that tweet are awful, but gives you an idea of what we’re up against) and Nadia Whittome of the Labour left, and Layla Moran of the Liberal Democrats, the first MP to identify as openly pansexual. Nicola Sturgeon, leader of the Scottish National Party, has called transphobia “not acceptable” in her party. However, Moran lost the LD leadership contest to Sir Ed Davey in 2020, so no party in Parliament in England and Wales has a platform for trans rights. Starmer has appeared to embolden transphobia by not cracking down on MPs like Rosie Duffield. We are very much on our own. Even on the far left, often accused of supporting trans rights as a means to undermine Western civilisation or something (I joke but I think you get my point), has major issues with it. The Communist Party of Britain has rumours and allegations of transphobia in its ranks, and the Communist Party of Great Britain (Marxist-Leninist) infamously referred to LGBT+ politics as “anti-Marxist” and “anti working class”. Are there no working class LGBT+ people? Regardless, even the people who are labelled as liking us don’t appear to.

And Johnson’s Conservatives are a non starter. Just this year, they proposed making unenrolled deed polls (a method of quickly changing your name) invalid. This would mean there is a publicly available list of trans people and other vulnerable individuals, like those trying to escape or disassociate from abusive partners. The process would require consent from any spouse (the only other process of this nature that requires this is gender recognition for trans people) and the addresses of those who have changed their names would be public knowledge. I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that is. It also appears there is little being done to stop the rise in hate crime, which were reported to have quadrupled last year. Politics is openly hostile from nearly every corner, it would seem.

In terms of healthcare there has been a similar decline. The BBC described waiting lists of over 3 years for gender clinics as “hell” (bear in mind this article was written before the pandemic hit the UK), though there were claims on Twitter that these times were up to 60 months in some places. These waiting times can lead to people taking the unfamiliar and often expensive private route. The High Court recently ruled that under 16s are unlikely to be able to give informed consent on puberty blockers, a troubling ruling that could have dangerous consequences depending on how the courts extend it in the future. The ruling that puberty blockers can only be used after you’ve gone through the bulk of puberty is a really curious one from a logical standpoint - they are not hormones, they are not irreversible. But I fear that’s what the courts or Parliament will come for next.

If you’re looking for an alternative source with different information from someone older, here’s a decent thread on how British transphobia partly emerged from the Skeptics in the Pub movement, making it unique to this hellish little rock.

This overview is really brief, and it would require me going a lot further in depth to go into how the media has fed into this, the controversies surrounding certain private doctors, or different groups and dog whistles they’ve adopted. But for now, I honestly feel quite helpless. There’s not much you can do to affect Parliament, especially not with the new laws coming in around protest in the Police, Crime, Sentencing, and Courts Bill. Petitions are useless unless they’re done through the Parliament website. If they gain 10,000 signatures they go to a petitions committee, then maybe the House of Commons itself. Only to be almost definitely voted down by Johnson’s Conservatives and their majority. Just please, spread this for all of us living here, and give any sort of suggestions for action. I fear this is going to get far worse before it gets better. We can but hope I’m wrong.

Update: 05/05/21

There have been some recent developments that I’m gonna note. I might use this as a sort of compilation document of documenting our position here.

Maya Forstater was a contracted consultant at the Centre for Global Development. Her contract wasn’t renewed in 2019 after a series of transphobic Twitter posts caused staff to complain about her. She received support from the Index for Censorship and was able to crowdfund her campaign. At the Central London Employment Tribunal, Judge James Tayler branded her views “not worthy of respect in a democratic society”. He said that her views weren’t protected under the Equality Act 2010 as they “violated the dignity” of trans people due to her insistence on misgendering. Judge Tayler did not say she couldn’t conduct so called ‘gender critical’ campaigns.

Part of Tayler’s judgement from the above linked article, the judgement itself can be read here. Various views on the case can be found in the ‘Reaction to the tribunal judgement’ of the Wikipedia article.

Forstater appealed, and there is yet to be a judgement. However, the Equality abs Human Rights Commission has intervened to say that Forstater’s beliefs are protected under the Equality Act as they are philosophical beliefs. The irony in this should be clear. The equality watchdog making an effort to protect bigotry over people’s right not to face abuse. I’ll update this when the decision is handed down, which will be later in the year.

#trans #lgbt #lgbtqiia+#lgbtq #lgbtqia #lgbtq rights #transgender #mtf #ftm #ftm transgender #mtf trans #mtf transgender #ftm trans #trans rights

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thisislizheather · 3 years

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February Feats 2022

Above Photo: The partially frozen fountain at Bryant Park, February 2022

My favourite month has arrived! Spring is coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

You can find my favourite tweets of the month over here and here.

I compiled my favourite tweets about love for Valentine’s Day.

I read and review Elvira’s new memoir.

I know that it’s older, but I’ve kept the song Gypsy by Lady Gaga on repeat for about two weeks now.

I made garlic confit and I’ll be real with you - it looks way better than it tastes. And that’s coming from someone who adores garlic. By cooking it down, it actually makes the garlic flavour quite mild so it’s truly not worth making again. I put a boatload of it on some toast and it was beyond lackluster. One more con? Expect to be gassy as hell if you eat this stuff.

I tried a sample of this Tata Harper (christ that name) cleanser and it was really good. Thankfully there are cheaper, better options out there (literally anything in the tea tree line at The Body Shop), but this was great to try.

I was getting pretty sick of the Spotify commercials in my (free) account, so I made to the movie to Apple Music to try their three month trial. We shall see how it goes. (That goddam Stone Cold Steve Austin & Ice-T commercial may have been the final straw to leave Spotify.)

I went to Sarabeth’s for their Restaurant Week lunch menu and it was extremely good. I love blue cheese and pear together in a salad, why can’t that be as common as caesar salads? And the mussels and fries were heavenly.

I have been in such a funk with nail polish lately, every colour seems to look disgusting. I got a short, red, gel manicure recently and had to remove it within a week, it was so repulsive to look at. What is my problem? …What’s that? You don’t care? Hahah. Honestly, same.

I finally tried SLT (it’s one of the options when you try ClassPass for a free month trial), and what even is SLT? It’s like if spin classes + pilates classes had an obnoxious baby. And you know what? NOT FOR ME. I think I hate any pilates class that uses a machine.

In love with the larger citrus green tea candles that just came out from Trader Joe’s. Fucking love a wooden wick.

Above Photo: Citrus Green Tea candle from Trader Joe’s, February 2022

Two new things I made for the first time this month? Risotto and scallops. It’s well known how annoying risotto is to make yourself since it’s such a long process, but I didn’t fully grasp that concept until I did it firsthand. And it wasn’t even that amazing, so that was a letdown. As for the scallops? Very fast and extremely easy.

Had dinner at the extremely cute French place La Petit Joie in Brooklyn with Diana. Love any place that does oysters rockefeller every night of the week. Also, can more restaurants bring back BYOB? It’s so thoughtful to even offer.

I tried out this Ulta eyeshadow palette and it came off with hand soap. The quality of makeup these days is just wild. And the prices keep going up, WHAT IS THIS NONSENSE?

Went to The Independent in midtown and their mussels and harvest salad were truly memorable. Great place to go if you’re in the area seeing a show.

Tried the new french toast soft serve at Milk Bar and yes it was good, but not as good as their apple pie soft serve.

I have found my new favourite hair mask: AG Hair Colour Savour Mask. I’m not sure if it’s for all blondes or just dyed blondes, but I love it. You’d think the bubblegum scent would repel me, but I find it whimsical. Of course it’s made by a Canadian company.

There was a beautiful, pre-spring day so I took Baby Dog to Central Park and just look at this mug.

Above Photo: Baby Dog in Central Park, February 2022

I bought some gorgeous new address labels from Zazzle. Are you doing this? You really should. Don’t you want to be better than everyone else?

So I went to Suprema Provisions finally and look the burger was good, but not nearly as good as the burger at Sparrow Tavern in Astoria (or even The Spaniard). Their mushroom pasta was saucy and great. And I never thought I’d say this, but I think it’s time to retire burrata from all restaurant menus. It is always the same. Always uninspired. We need to move on with ours lives, I think.

Okay, so I bought some eucalyptus to hang from my shower head (pardon me for being DEEPLY ORIGINAL) and unlike every Pinterest pin that encourages you to do this, I fully recommend NOT EVEN BOTHERING. It’s pointless. There is no smell. There is no point. And I think it might attract moths (!), but that last point is unconfirmed. Instead, if you’re really obsessed with this idea, just buy a can of this eucalyptus shower mist. You spray it into the hot water and it does actually make it seem like a steam room for the length of your shower.

Went to Van Dam diner in Queens with Irene and it’s like you fell into 1983, loved it.

Truly sorry for telling you about this, but if I had to hear about it so do you: lip blushing. One more reason that this world hates women. If I had any real money, I’d buy up as much ad space as I could and just have signs that tell women, “Hey you! You’re good! You don’t need to buy anything to be better! Relax!”

And speaking of buying things to make you feel better, I just bought these strappy black heels and they feel so lovely & I can’t wait to destroy anyone in my path the first time I wear them.

I also bought these Steven Madden heels online and does that man hate women? Or just their feet? The most uncomfortable shoes I’ve ever owned. Returning as soon as possible.

I was in Harlem so I went to Oso for their happy hour (good guacamole, I want to go back mainly to try the cake place next door) and then to Lido for their happy hour, which was fantastic. I love when a happy hour menu gives a fuck. Definitely want to go back to Lido for a meal.

What I watched this month:

Tried rewatching The Mindy Project and while the first few seasons are pretty good (Morgan is the best character by far), I just couldn’t get into the entire series again for some reason. I think I stopped around the episode where she talks about how she doesn’t like men seeing her naked ever. Some things are just better as a memory, I guess.

I’m rewatching old Sex and the City episodes to get the AJLT taste out of my mouth and they’re all pretty hit or miss. Samantha is so much funnier than I remember, which was been great. Also, you know when Carrie is with Aiden and he has his dog Pete with him - did you ever notice that this dog is NEVER excited to see Carrie when she enters a scene? I get that it’s not real life and he’s just a dog on a set, but it made me laugh so much that this dog just does not fucking care about her. Pete was right all along. Also, for all the credit that this show gets for the outfits, good god are there a lot of terrible wardrobe decisions. But I guess that’s part of the good thing about it maybe? Like not everything has to be your taste or even look good - it’s more important to be fun and confident and have these characters wear what they think looks good? What side am I even on?? Do I hate the show or not?? Look, even I don’t know.

The John Mulaney SNL: Why did I watch this one specifically? Who knows. I don’t think I even like him, but it was a really good episode. Makes zero sense, but I was dying at the monkey sketch.

The Worst Person In The World: I liked it! Not as much as I thought I would given how highly praised it is, but it was nice to be in a theatre. (And that chocolate peanut butter pie slice at The Angelika? Oof. Always worth it.)

Above Photo: Chocolate peanut butter pie at The Angelika, NYC

I made this sesame garlic chili oil noodle dish that suhuuuuuucked. I think I need a moment away from Half Baked Harvest. So many misses lately.

Recipes I want to make this month:

Tuscan Kale Salad with Gorgonzola Croutons - I always forget how much I love blue cheese.

Truffled Garlic Bread with Ricotta - okay, this looks maddeningly incredible. I could either make this myself OR I could visit any North Italia restaurant where they have it on the menu… which is just a two hour drive from me to the Pennsylvania location… mental note…

Hummingbird Cake Scones with Mascarpone Glaze!! Christ!!

Prosciutto, Peas & Orzo - my love affair with orzo has not ended.

Banana Sheet Cake with Walnut Streusel and Rum Glaze - can sheet cake come back in style already? Fuck.

Grilled Asparagus Caesar Salad - love new ways to ingest caesar dressing.

Lemon Almond Pudding Cake - pudding CAKE? This must be the future.

Some things I’m looking forward to this month: I won a lottery ticket to see Harry Potter on Broadway this coming week, obviously I want to find and drink the space Coke, I really want to try the happy hour at Bistro Les Amis (the poutine looks Canadian), the second season of Stanley Tucci’s Searching For Italy starts on March 13th, my best friend Harmeet is coming for a visit (!), I found a place in NYC serving Steak Diane (!!!) so that’ll likely be my birthday meal, I got a ticket for opening night of the Broadway play Birthday Candles with Debra Messing on the 18th, and I will most certainly go get my free birthday gifts from The Body Shop, Sephora, and Ulta. (And I mean… should I drive two hours purely for some amazing garlic bread? I’m thinking I should? That sort of tracks with who I am as a person? Also it’s my birthday soon? And the world is slowly but surely burning? And garlic bread might solve everything? And by “might” I mean “definitely will”?)

If you have any interest in reading what went on in January, come on over here.

#Simpsons meme #this is liz heather #Liz Heather #monthly post #monthly roundup #February 2022 #best of February #what happened this month #what I did this month #NYC #best of NYC #must do NYC #must visit NYC #NYC blog

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yukipri · 4 years

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Hi! I really liked your Mermaid AU and cats, it made my day everytime you post a new part or their cuteness 😊 ❤. Though, I would like to know how the Baratie Arcs go in your Mermaid AU, especially Sanji's reaction on seeing Luffy as a mermaid and Ace's reaction on Sanji's... oh and how did Thatch and Sanji had their.... competition for Luffy's love? Thank you!

Thanks so much for enjoying my AU and my cat pics <3

Ok! So answering this one ahead of the cue, bc it’s easier for me to answer East Blue questions, and I have some thoughts!

So On the Baratie and Sanji meeting the ASL Pirates.

Here’s a mini story! Contains Sanji x Luffy.

It's an ordinary day at the Baratie, with the usual shitty customers, the usual starving travelers, and the usual scarce but lovely ladies. Sanji doesn't expect today to be any different. But then, a miracle happens.

A mermaid walks in.

Sanji's sure his heart stops, and his brain almost does too. It's his dream to go to Fishman Island one day to frolic with the legendary beautiful mermaids that are said to live there, and it's a dream only second to finding All Blue. A slightly more tangible one too, since Fishman Island actually has a physical location on the world map, but Sanji digresses.

He'd never have imagined finding a mermaid in East Blue, and yet here one is, she's real and she's inside the Baratie.

Sanji doesn't really stop to consider how a mermaid can "walk."

Everything feels muted, and Sanji feels like he's floating on clouds as he makes his way towards the group at the door. He vaguely notes how many are in their party, but the others are a blur; he only has eyes for his angel, his aquatic goddess, his dream given physical form who has come to bless Sanji's mortal soul.

Up close, the mermaid's even lovelier. She has a petite, round face and the largest, warmest brown eyes he's ever seen, flecks of the subtlest golds and reds hidden deep within their depths like sunken treasure. Her hair's choppy and short but still looks indescribably soft, even when mostly hidden by a ratty straw hat. Her red vest's simple and has seen better days, but the goddess could be wearing rags and nothing would dim her loveliness. Ample, luscious, honestly ENORMOUS breasts look a second from bursting forth from their humble constraints, and Sanji wants to be there to catch them, can practically feel them overflowing from his palms already. Her skin's golden from the sun, and her arms could probably rip a man in two, and Sanji wants to be that man. The mermaid's certainly no court lady, but it must be because no court could ever be worthy of her.

And her tail.

It's the most eye-catching part about her, shimmering like it's made of the most precious multi-faceted jewels, and everyone in the restaurant has turned to gape. It's thickest at her hips and ripples with strength in a way that reminds Sanji not of any fish, but of sea kings, fearsome and untouchable. It tapers smoothly to a tip with translucent flukes more beautiful than any stained glass, more like lustrous fairy wings made of crystal flower petals, which wave lazily in the air as she moves, proving that yes, the tail is very real, and she is indeed a mermaid.

Sanji often gushes about love for the maidens who visit the Baratie, but he doesn't know if he's ever truly felt it it beyond the surface of his skin. If anyone had asked him if he believed in true love, he would have laughed off the question, but now, he can't.

Because this must be it, this must be "Love at First Sight," because how else can he possibly explain this impossible urge to grasp the mermaiden's hand and present her with his heart and everything he is, to pledge to follow her to the death and beyond, to--

"'Scuse us," a voice says from WAY TOO CLOSE. "Are there any open seats?"

Sanji blinks, and realizes that there's a wall in front of him.

A wall of muscle to be exact, that turns out to be a man, a man who's taller than Sanji, shirtless, and very, Very fit...and Sanji and said man are standing so close that the tips of their noses are brushing and Sanji can count the man's freckles. Sanji's gaze flicks up, and the man's eyes are right there, staring lazily down at him from point blank range.

...Well this is awkward.

Sanji's mermaid is casually wrapped around the man's shoulders, swishing her bejeweled tail and blinking at Sanji curiously. Her breasts are mashed into the back of the man's head, and the man doesn't seem to notice or care as he waits patiently for Sanji's answer.

As the fog of love clears from his head, Sanji mumbles an apology and takes a big step back to a more socially appropriate distance, and tears his eyes away from the mermaid to assesses the whole group. And although love is so powerful it can override intellect, Sanji's not stupid.

By the look of it, they're pirates. There's a lovely lady in the back along with a weaker looking kid, but everyone else looks strong and experienced. And as enamored as he is by the concept of mermaids, Sanji can also very easily imagine the limited scenarios in which one might find a mermaid above deck, far away from Fishman island, and in the hands of pirates.

He might not see shackles on her, but physical bindings aren't always necessary for someone to be caged.

And if this was an ordinary day, and these were ordinary pirates here to make trouble, Sanji wouldn't hesitate to rescue the love of his life from these scum and move right along to celebrating their engagement.

But again, he's not stupid. And these are no East Blue pirates, because there's no way pirates of this caliber have been in the weakest sea for long. No, these are Grand Line pirates. And Sanji can tell that despite his relaxed, non-threatening demeanor, the man carrying the mermaid is dangerous. Sanji's gut screams warning that this man could destroy the Baratie and murder everyone in it without breaking a sweat, and Sanji would be helpless to stop him.

And it's not just him. There are others who are dangerous too, but Sanji's attention is drawn to the tall man who brings up the rear. Perhaps it's the pompadour, but it's most likely the chef outfit. He looks friendly enough, and isn't exuding power like the captain is, but there's definitely more than meets the eye, and Sanji has the weird feeling that he's seen the man before. Sanji doesn't actively keep track of pirates around the world, but the fact that even Sanji may have seen his bounty poster doesn't bode well.

Sanji knows he can't take them on in a direct confrontation. But he's also not going to let them leave without doing anything, if the mermaid's in the situation he thinks she's in.

So for now, he puts on his best customer service voice, smiles, and says, "Come right this way, we've got a VIP section."

Thanks so much for reading! I know this doesn’t answer every part of the ask, but I hope it’s still a fun read! If anyone’s interested, I can certainly write more on Thatch and Sanji in a separate post, I’m definitely becoming more and more invested in their complicated rivalry-friendship-mentorship relationship ^ ^

As always, thoughts/comments/reblogs are always super appreciated, and are what fuel me in creating more for this AU!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: On the Baratie, Part 2

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#YukiPri replies #OnePieceMermaidAU #One Piece Mermaid AU #One Piece #SanLu #Vinsmoke Sanji #Monkey D. Luffy #genderbend #longpost #long post #text headcanons #Anonymous

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chatalyst · 4 years

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Black Lives Matter - How you can help

Hey everyone! For the past couple of days, I have been signing petitions and speaking out on my other social media platforms to bring awareness to the murder of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and the black lives matter movement. I have been compiling a list of places to donate for the past couple of days, as this is the one social media platform where I have the most reach.

Tumblr was the social media site that allowed me my first glimpse into social justice, and I have been granted the privilege of surrounding myself with people that are active in the uplifting of minority stories and experiences. As someone with a platform, I am obligated to speak up and raise awareness in any way that I can.

As of right now, I am unable to donate or protest in person. My form of protesting is signing petitions, but I would like to do more. To do so, I will be offerring my services for anyone who signs petitions, donates, or protests.

For every 25 petitions signed OR For every $5 donation to an organization OR For every day you protest, you may choose ONE (1) of the following:

Limit of 3 entries per person.

a 500-1.7k word Drabble for a ship of your choosing. You may choose the prompt, au, and rating. (Please note that if I have not seen the show/movie/read the book it may take me a while to get to your prompt, however, I will get to it. Length of the fic will vary. I will not write incest, pedophilia, cheating, sexual assault. Basically, if it’s a warning beyond Major Character Death on Ao3, I will not write it.) you can find examples of my writing here.

A bust sketch in my drawing style of any character you want. For every donation you do, I will allow you to add a character up to three donations. If you make more than 2 donations, I can send it to you through the mail if you request it, as I draw traditionally. (Please note that I will not draw furry art as I am not familiar with the style. I will not draw anything that I wouldn’t write.) you can find examples of my drawing style here.

A 30 second-1 minute piano and singing cover of any song you’d like, in the style of a “siren”. You can find examples of my singing here.

PLEASE NOTE: You will need to provide proof in order for me to begin. You may send me the completed screen of the 25 petitions you have signed/the donations so it doesn’t reveal personal information. Please message me if you are protesting so I can tell you the steps for proof. Limit of 3 entries per person.

Due to my messaging system on tumblr being unreliable, you can send proof to my discord (@chatalyst) and my email ([email protected]) .

IF YOU ARE SENDING AN EMAIL, you must put “Black Lives Matter Donations - [your name here]” as your subject line. For example, my email subject line would be “Black Lives Matter Donations - Anita”. Failure to do so may result in the deletion of your email from my inbox. Please do not email me unless it is for this post. Please allow for 48 hours for a response that lets you know I have your email. Completion time of the actual Drabble, sketch, or song will vary. I will keep you updated.

Disclaimer: depending on how popular this post gets, I reserve the right to close commissions at any time. However, I will let everyone know with at least a 2 day notice, and will not close commissions unless there is an overwhelming amount of commissions being sent to me. Please continually check the notes of this post for any announcements/updates.

Links:

This page is constantly updating places to donate, petitions to sign, and ways to get active and make your voice heard.

Master Docs to petitions, donations, information, and places to protest:

Twitter threads of petitions to sign demanding justice for black victims of police brutality. (Please do not donate to change.org after signing a petition. They are a private corporation and none of the funds will go to the organizations/petitions listed)

Twitter threads of places to donate:

Here are organizations dedicated to action against police brutality and helping black voices be heard

This is not a comprehensive list, and so long as you provide proof of the businesses you’ve donated to or the petitions you’ve signed and the protests you’ve attended, I will allow it. Please message me if you have ANY questions, and please feel free to spread this post.

#black lives matter #blm #george floyd #petitions #donations #information #justice for breonna #breonna taylor #justice for george floyd

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starrysamu · 4 years

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i’m not someone with a huge following or anything, and it’s been a while since i’ve been here, but i’m sure everyone has heard about the state of the world right now. i wanted to use this platform to use my voice.

i also wanted to take the time ask everyone to be respectful and use your voice during this time. there are two particular events i want to highlight:

1) black lives matter

black lives matter. i won’t hear it any other way, i won’t have it any other way. if you see it differently, feel free to unfollow me because i won’t be allowing for any other opinions. as someone who is still learning, however, i can offer what i’ve picked up along the way.

as someone who is trying to do better and become a better ally, here’s some other thoughts i have on the situation:

♦ the lack of solidarity amongst minorities in absolutely baffling. i’m not sure how else to elaborate on this other than that many minorities are not using their voices. your silent support is not enough. you have to do better.

♦ the lack of solidarity in future healthcare workers is just as astounding. this is mainly targeted to the people in my life, irl. many of my peers specifically have been silent on this matter. please, please, please, use your voice. now is the chance to decrease the disparity in treatment and care for our black patients. how will you be a good healthcare worker if you can’t even support basic human rights. how.

♦ nobody wants to see your selfies. that’s not to say you can’t go and do things like you normally would. use your platform for something more productive. if you’re not contributing anything constructive, don’t contribute at all.

♦ criticisms against rioting and protesting: where was the coverage during peaceful protesting? the situation has escalated so dramatically that it requires this. black voices have been stifled for YEARS. it is not up to YOU how an oppressed group protests. criticisms against rioting and protesting minimizes the racism and oppression that black individuals have faced. if you are uncomfortable with violence, it is most likely because your privilege has protected you. and nb people - if you’re attending a protest, please don’t loot and burn things like it’s some free-for-all purge. your actions will be blamed on black people, defeating the purpose of protesting.

♦ lastly, here is a collection of thoughts i have formed upon discussion:

it may feel super fake/performative to share information that everyone else is sharing: however, those who agree with you might learn more, and those who disagree might reflect on their own opinions. information can spread to those who have not yet received yet either.

you may not feel qualified to speak on these matters: i sure as hell don’t. it took me a long time coming, but i want to do better and be better. there is always a learning curve. all we can do is continue to learn and strive to do better.

you may not feel like you’re doing much or changing anything: i’m sure many of you have seen resources to help you take this a step beyond the instagram posts. if it’s within your capabilities, considering donating. advocating by signing petitions, making calls to your DAs, or protesting is a great way to stay involved. lastly, educate: speak on these matters, call your friends and families into discussions, read more about oppression and reflect on how your lifestyle is intertwined with institutional oppression.

♦ to take it a step beyond, here’s some resources and action you can take (thank you to @/writeiolite for compiling these earlier):

sign petitions, text or call, and donate. the link has all the information you need to take action! it’s very comprehensive. here is another comprehensive document with other ways to take action.

educate: here is a very comprehensive document on how to learn more about systematic racism and black oppression.

to other minorities that are struggling to find their voice, please check these instagram posts out. from these, i was able to find the strength to use my own voice.

and for my black friends and followers, please take care of yourselves. here is a resource for mental health support.

2) the anti-terror law

this is something that has come to my attention very, very recently. i also am not very educated on this either, but from what i gather, this is a form of martial law without actually being termed as martial law - infringement of personal freedoms and rights.

there is simply not much i can say because i am still reading and learning about it. i will update and edit as soon as i can get more information.

as previously mentioned, i am still in the process of educating myself on this topic. this is a great resource to get started, and is comprehensive on what it is and how you can help. please take a look at it!! to my friends living in PH, please stay safe.

#stay safe everyone #if anyone needs to talk #i'm here for you

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1a-imagines · 4 years

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Can I request a one shot for Bakugou when he's a Pro Hero and opens up his own agency, since heroes have to be out and about all day and night they're exhausted, so the agency has a personal shopper system and that's how he meets the reader. The reader is back and forth a lot, they never know who specifically they shop for, they just gets lists and also acts as asistant to anyone. Jealous coworkers see them getting along with Bakugou and they start overworking them?

A/n: This was so much fun! And what better time to post it than the lil shits brithday? Nah. I love him really

Quick little side note sort of ended being more of a personal assistant than a shopper but i hope you enjoy anyway.

----

"Ground zero, sir? Here are those files you wanted. O-oh! And since it's lunch I thought you might appreciate some food so I went out and ordered some curry for you." You sent him a smile as you watched his eyes widen at the food placed on his desk.

"Why?"

"H-huh?"

He let out a sigh. "You didn't need to do that.." he muttered softly. He could never understand why you always felt the need to go out of your way to do nice things for him. Sure you were technically the office assistant, it was your job to help him, but you weren’t required to buy him lunch!

He reached over and gratefully took the food. The smell alone was making his stomach growl. "Oh it's no problem! You always forget to eat when you're busy! And you’re busy a lot these days, since your rank is rising so quickly. I figured, as your assistant, I should make sure you're eating properly too."

He looked down at the food, you really were too nice for your own good. Looking out and caring for people who you owed nothing to. It annoyed him to no end! If you kept being so nice to everyone then people were going to take advantage of you! He had to keep a careful watch on you at all times to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble!

Granted, he didn’t really have to look out for you but who else would do it if he didn’t!?

He had been skeptical when his colleagues had suggested hiring someone like you for the company.

‘Oh great! Another headache to deal with!’ had been his first thoughts.

But he had to admit that it was one of the best decisions his company had made, and he didn't just think that because he actually liked having you around compared to some of the other idiots around here. You were helpful, and you took a load off his work pile every now and then, you brought him drinks and made sure no one bothered him when he was busy working. It made his work life all the more easier.

"Thanks." He hesitantly grumbled before taking a bite, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up for a slight second. "This is really good! How the hell do you know what I like?"

You let out a giggle. "You're a popular hero with a big following, all I had to do was search up 'Ground Zeroes favourite foods' and I learned that you like spicy food pretty quickly!" You really went to all that trouble just to get him lunch? He huffed through his nose. "Stalker."

"EH!?" he chuckled at your reaction before continuing. "Next time you can just ask me what I like. You don't have to go browsing the internet like some stalker fangirl." His smirk widened as he watched your face turn red.

"O-oh- right! Yes.. Of course!" Teasing you was way too easy and way too fun.

“You said it was lunch right? Have you had your lunch break?” he asked after taking another bite of the food. You shook your head and he rolled his eyes. Just like you always had to make sure he was eating well and taking breaks he had to do exactly the same for you. He didn’t need his assistant collapsing on him.

“Take it now then, here-” he reached over and pulled another chair closer to his desk. “You can eat with me since you got way too much food for me.” It wasn’t that much, he just wanted a reason for you to stay around for a while longer. He didn’t know why, he usually preferred spending breaks alone, it was practically the only time he got a break from everything and everyone. But, there was just something about you that made him feel at ease. He actually enjoyed talking to you, and this was a rare thing for him.

He loved watching you tense up at such a simple request. It was almost like you were surprised he wanted to eat with you. Then again, he didn’t do this with any other of his employees.

“Are you sure it’s ok sir?” You asked unsurely.

He sighed at your never ending courtesy. “I wouldn’t say it otherwise, just sit down.” You compiled and sat next to him.

He gave you half his food and you eagerly dug in, running around after people all day was a good way to work up an appetite, but as soon as the spiciness of the curry hit your palate your face turned red and you began to cough as the heat scorched your throat.

Bakugo burst out laughing at your reaction, your face had twisted into pain as you began gulping down water, it didn’t really help much. Your lips and tongue still felt like they were on fire. How can he stomach this stuff!?

You had never heard Bakugo laugh so hard before- or at all for that matter.

Once you cooled off you couldn’t help but laugh with him. It was nice to see him smiling for once, even if it was at your own expense.

Your combined laughter carried out of his office and down to where the rest of your coworkers were working. They could hear the pure joy you two were sharing from all the way down the hall and a few of them began to pry. They had never before heard their usually grumpy boss laugh like that.

Three of them walked up and peaked through the window to his office. You two hunched over laughing with tears in your eyes, you looked awfully close, a little too close for some of their likings.

“Hmph! What a suck up she is!” Setsuko muttered bitterly as her eye’s narrowed at the sight.

“I know.. We’ve worked here for years!! And yet Y/n who's been here what? Three months? gets all the special treatment?” Kimiko agreed.

“I-I don’t know.. She’s just doing her job..” Mariko chimed in as they watched the two of you wipe the tears from your eyes. She had never seen their boss so happy before, usually he was in a bad mood over something or other. However, when you were around, he seemed to soften up, it was kind of sweet in a way. She enjoyed seeing this new side you brought out of him, but she knew that a few of your fellow co-workers didn’t enjoy this “special treatment” you got.

“Don’t be stupid Mariko! You don’t see her getting the rest of us lunch do you? She’s supposed to help everyone around the office! She’s just trying to get a promotion!” Setsuko countered as they turned away from the window.

“That’s a good point though!” Kimiko grinned, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “She’s our assistant too. Maybe we should start taking more advantage of that?”

Mariko shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion, “I-I’m not so sure-”

“Good idea Kimiko! She needs to learn her place!” They completely ignored the shy, petite girl next to them. Mariko couldn’t stand listening to their childish plans and walked away from the scene.

As soon as you left Ground zeroes office after your lunch break the two girls approached you with friendly smiles on their faces. “Y/n! Glad we found you! We have some boxes over there that need to be put in the basement? Think you could do it for us?”

You sent them a curt nod, “Of course!” Thought you regretted not looking over at the box pile before answering. The pile of boxes just about reached the ceiling! There were so many! Your jaw dropped as Setsuko patted your shoulder. “Thanks a bunch!” Was the last thing they said before leaving you to it.

“Ok, I can do this! They might not even be that heavy! Maybe I can carry a few at a time and be done quickly!”

They’re so fucking heavy!

One box in and your arms were already aching, what was in these things!? Bricks?! That was the only thing you could assume from the weight of them. You weren’t sure what kind of bad luck you had been cursed with today but suddenly it seemed like your shift was going to become a lot more grueling.

Three hours later and you were practically crawling along the floor, the pile still only half finished. You had the great idea of using an old desk chair with wheels so you could push a few boxes along at a time but it was still really heavy and taking forever! Not that you could exactly do anything about it, this was your job. At least you didn’t deal with this everyday.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead and shook your arms to relieve the pain. “Just a few more left!” You tried to encourage yourself.

Little did you know about Marikos guilty, green eyes staring at you from across the office.

The week didn’t get any better for you. You were constantly running around having to do these ridiculously hard tasks all alone. They’ve had you fixing all the broken office chairs, scanning about 500 pages of forms only to say they didn't need them anymore, they’ve had you going all over town to buy supplies or lunches for them, as well as running up and down all 50 floors of the office building doing a bunch of other ridiculous tasks for them. It felt unfair but it’s not like they were making you do things that were outside of your job description? So how could you complain about them when they weren’t really doing anything wrong?

You felt so exhausted. You couldn’t even enjoy your breaks without them coming to ask favours of you. You felt even worse that you had barely any time to help Bakugo with his tasks. You were sure he didn’t need help- he always stressed he could do everything alone but you hoped he was at least remembering to eat. He was always too focused on becoming the number one that he often forgot to take care of himself unless you were there to remind him.

“Y/n! Would you mind going to grab us some coffee?” Kamiko asked you as you handed them the prints they wanted you to fetch,

Ok, that was a pretty simple task! That’s not unreasonable at all! You sent them a smile, a smile that was slightly strained due to your fatigue, “Of course!” You stepped around them to head towards the break room where the coffee machine was, but before you could go far they stopped you again. “Oh! No! The coffee in the break room is kind of gross, it’s never strong enough ethier, especially when you have a mountain of paperwork.” Setsuko giggled. “Would you mind going to ‘The steamed bean’? Here are the directions if you need them!” She handed you a note and you gawked at the address, It was all the way over the other side of town! “Y-you realise I don’t have a car to travel this far right?”

“Ah, we know, but we figured you wouldn’t mind since it’s a nice day and all! Besides, Exercise could do you some good!”

‘What's that supposed to mean…’

“Ok.. I guess I could but-!”

“Thanks so much! You’re a doll! We owe ya!” Kamiko waved as they walked off. “-won't it be cold by the time I get back…” You trailed off, speaking to the empty space they once stood in. You sighed. It was your job to assist them, but sending you all the way across town for coffee? It was a bit unreasonable. You just couldn’t seem to find it in yourself to argue about it.

You set off on your journey through the city, You had to admit that it was a nice day but the walk was too long for your liking. You could’ve gotten the train or a bus but you didn’t tend to bring change with you to work, You had a weird feeling Setsuko and Kamiko might have known about that. So it left you with walking.

The walk gave you a lot of time to think over the past week and all the jobs they’ve had you do. There was just no doubt about it.

‘They’re taking advantage of me.’

You sighed. Maybe Bakugo was right about you being too nice, a pushover even.. He had warned you about it time and time again but you didn’t listen. Being kind was just in your nature. You had every right to file a complaint against them for overworking you, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough, so why didn’t you? Because it was your job? Because you didn’t want to be causing trouble in the first few months of being there?

You huffed. You were angry with yourself for letting it get this far!

Though, you were too far into the walk to turn back now, the coffee shop wasn’t much father but you made a note to yourself to let this be the last unreasonable task you did for them!

The walk was almost an hour a half. You’ve never felt so relieved to see a coffee shop sign in your life! You couldn’t have felt more happy for your aching feet but when you made it to the door you noticed the sign had been turned to-

“Closed!?” you squeaked in defeat. All this walking for… this!? You sighed, Taking a moment to lean your body against the brick wall of the building.

Soon, you began trudging back to the office. You couldn’t exactly return to them with nothing, You didn’t want to get in trouble for not doing your job properly, and something told you that they wouldn’t hesitate to put in a complaint about you given the opportunity. So you bought them coffee from a different place before you got back.

You were dragging your feet at this point, your legs numb, you weren’t entirely sure what time it was; but the sun was begging to set over the city, leaving an orange glow in its wake. Once you arrived back at the office you found your two coworkers talking to Bakugo as they packed away their stuff. “We got everything finished on time thanks to your help sir!”

“Yeah, whatever..” He dismissed them and turned around to see you standing there, you looked overheated and sweaty from the 3 hour walk in the sun you had just taken, the bags under your eyes were prominent on your face, right next to how flushed your cheeks were. He blinked.

“The hell happened to you? You look like a mess.” He commented and you shot him a soft glare for the jab. “I was just out getting coffee for-” you looked behind him to see they had both left. You deflated, you eye twitched in annoyance. They really just-

Bakugo followed your gaze, catching on. “Why the hell would you go into the city to get coffee for them? We have coffee here.” He crossed his arms. You shrugged and placed the two coffee cups down on a nearby empty desk. “They asked and it’s sort of my job to assist them.”

“And now their shifts are over and you went to all the trouble for nothing.” He pointed out and you internally groaned. “Yeah.. pretty much.”

The office was practically empty now apart from the odd few night staff that were coming in for their shifts. You knew you had been set up, this wasn’t just bad luck like you had first thought. But why would your coworkers do this to you?

“Well better not let them go to waste.” Bakugo sat down and took one of the coffee cups. You smiled a little. It felt like he was looking out for you in a way, It was sweet. You sat down opposite him and let out a big sigh of relief at weight off your feet. You tried to relax your tired body as much as you could. It felt like the first time you had relaxed in a week. Your behaviour made Bakugo raise an eyebrow. “How fucking far did you go for coffee?” he asked you before taking a sip out of his cup. “The steamed bean.” you heard him choke on his drink and you jumped up. “Are you ok!?”

“Are you!?” He backfired, staring up at you in disbelief. “Why the hell would you go there!? Not only is it miles away but you know it’s always shut on wednesdays, right?” you suddenly felt the need to collapse and sink into the floor.

It’s always closed on wednesdays!?

They really did set you up then!

You sat back down and Bakugos eyes followed you. “Oh.. don't tell me that's why you’re in pain.. You didn’t walk did you?” he narrowed his eyes, you could tell he was judging you and it made you too shy to give a reply. The look on your face must have said enough because he shook his head at you. “Idiot.”

“They asked and-”

“Just because it’s “your job” doesn’t mean you have to take that shit from them! Don’t let people use you and overwork you!” he scolded. You couldn’t help but smile despite being lectured and he noticed. “What? Why do you have that stupid look on your face?”

“I just- didn’t realise you cared so much about me.” He saw his shoulders tense which only made you smile more. This was priceless.

“I don’t- I just don’t want my employees being overworked!” He defended himself but you couldn’t fully believe his words. “You can’t fool me that easily, I’ve already heard plenty from the other workers around here that you’re a pretty stern boss. You’re serious about work and get annoyed when it’s not done on time.”

“Who the fuck said that!?”

“Point is! I’ve never actually seen that side of you. So either everyone else is lying or..” You shyly looked away “you have a soft spot for me~”

You heard him tut, his head also turned away from you as he crossed his arms. “That’s the conclusion you’ve come to? You’re dumber than I thought.”

“Well, you do invite me to eat lunch with you a lot, even making dumb excuses like “theres just too much food to eat it alone”, and you stay back after your shift ends just to talk and drink coffee with me.” You gestured to the scene around you, feeling pride when you saw his cheeks turn red. You knew that you had busted him. You let out a laugh at his reaction and he muttered for you to shut up.

Something about you laughing at him really pushed his buttons. He didn’t like that the tables had turned on him. Usually it was him teasing you, you were the one supposed to be blushing! Now he was the one with red cheeks and he couldn’t stand for this! “So what if I am a little soft for you?”

“h-huh!?”

“If I happen to like you a little more than everyone else around here? What are you going to do about it?”

“I- you-”

He smirked, just like that he had turned it back around. So easy. This was how it should be. With you getting all embarrassed and shy, not him. You hunched over in defeat, you were too tired to play this game with him right now. Especially when you knew you wouldn't win.

Though, you couldn’t help but wonder if he meant it? Did he really like you more than everyone else?

You took a nice long gulp of the warm coffee, you couldn’t wait for the energy boost, you really needed it after the week you had just had.

“You don’t have to worry about those two anymore.” He suddenly spoke up.

“What? Why?” You asked as you watched Bakugo absentmindedly fiddle with the cup. “Cause they’re getting fired tomorrow.” He smirked and you froze up. Were they getting fired because of you!? You knew they deserved it but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Jobs are how people make a living, their source of income and if they don't have that then-

“Quit your worrying would you?” His voice cut through your thoughts, you blushed at how easy he could see through you.

“Listen, it’s not just because of you, though you are a big part of it.” He muttered the last part so you couldn’t hear and before you could ask him to repeat himself he carried on. “When I was helping them with work today the files they’ve been writing up on their computers were complete shit. I can’t have people like that in my agency.” You sighed in relief. Bakugo leaned forward to lock eyes with you. He glared. “Also, Mariko told me everything they’ve been making you do the past week.”

Your lips parted in shock. “Mariko?”

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry I didn’t help sooner.” You turned in your chair to see the shy girl approaching. “I-I knew what they were doing and I thought they’d stop but they didn’t- I’m not really good at confrontation you see so I-” she inhaled through her nose. Stopping herself from making excuses. “I’m very sorry I let it go on. I told our boss when I found out they sent you all the way across town on foot to a closed coffee shop. I wish I had said something sooner. I’m sorry.” She bowed deeply and you tensed up at the confession. You had never expected this from her. You could see how genuine she was being, how sorry she felt. You placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her up. “It’s ok.” You smiled. “Thank you for helping me in the end! I really appreciate it.” You told her, Mariko seemed unsure, but curtly nodded anyway, “If you’re sure.”

She glanced over to her boss who’s eyes had never left you, despite you turning away. It reminded her of the look on his face when she told him about what had been happening. She wished you could have seen it, how worried he was. Maybe then you would understand just how much he cared for you. This wasn’ just a simple workplace relationship anymore.

She giggled quietly, a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Well I should be off! Have fun you two!” She waved. You waved back, though you were unsure what that look she had given you was about.

“Never ever let anyone take advantage of you again you hear me?” Ah, back to the lecture now. You sent him a smile and nodded. “I’ll try my best”

He groaned at your answer. Trying isn't good enough! He needed to know you wouldn’t get put in a situation like this again. He threw his head back, “You’re lucky I’m around to keep you out of trouble.”

There was a small silence as you stared down at your lap, “I am.” You agreed, his cheeks tinted red at your response.

“Ok! Enough of that mushy shit! You look starving, come on let's go get some food. My treat.” He jumped up and you followed a frantic look in your eyes as you were about to argue that he didn’t need to do that but he stopped you before you could by placing a hand over your mouth. He expected you would have this reaction.

“No, shut up, just let me do this for you. I still owe you for when you bought me lunch last week!"

You bit your lip as you took his hand into yours and lowered it from your face, neither one of you pulled away. "That just sounds like an excuse to take me out."

To your surprise he leaned down to be level with your face. He smirked as his eyes burned into yours. "Maybe you're not such a dumbass after all. It is an excuse, I'm taking you on a date."

You gulped. You were thankful you were holding onto his hand because your knees suddenly felt weak as his breath hit your cheek. "Then I guess I can't turn it down." You smiled and he squeezed your hand. "Let's go.”

Bonus:

You sat in his car, driving around the city as you tried to find a good place to have dinner.

“So what are you thinking?” He looked over to you with a playful glint in his eyes. “How about The Steamed Bean?”

You let out a loud groan and sunk into the seat at the jab to your pride. “You’re the worst date ever!"

He chuckled at your reaction, "We'll see if you still feel that way when the nights over~"

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abbystanaccount · 4 years

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spontaneous one-shot y’all.... someone requested to me Abby’s reaction when she hears about Owen and Mel being together so I wrote up a little something, I’m very tempted to do a little follow up AU where this snaps Abby to her senses instead of digging herself deeper into that revenge hole, so maybe I’ll do that soon too.

I’ll probably put this on ao3 later, i still haven’t written out their break-up fic lol and I feel like I should put that in the compilation beforehand idk

It was the day after Christmas, Abby hadn’t really celebrated besides gifting trinkets to her closest friends like Manny and Nora. She’d spent the last evening away from people, finally able to read and sleep early in peace while most were off at Christmas parties.

Abby was digging into her post-workout meal when Manny slid into the bench across from her. He hadn’t joined her in the gym that morning which was fine, he was probably hungover. Abby was going to the gym almost every day now. Getting stronger, becoming a better soldier, and finding Joel Miller, those were the only things that mattered to her now.

“Hey, Chica…” greeted Manny. His tone was weird, something was off. Abby made a face and stared at him as she finished chewing.

“What’s up, Manny?”

“Oh, nothing’s really up.”

“You’re a shit liar, Manny. Just spit it out.”

“Okay,” drawled Manny. He seemed nervous, what did he have to be nervous about? “Well I was at the one Christmas party last night with the Crew and some others. We all missed you there, by the way.”

“Hmm,” hummed Abby. It was kinda awkward between her and the Crew right now. She and Owen broke up three months ago. Maybe they could be friends again at some point but Abby could tell how much Owen would tense up when she entered a room, as if being in her presence anymore caused him pain. At least, it’d been that way for the first month. It was maybe slowly getting better when they ran into each other, but she didn’t want to push it.

“So uh, Owen was there. And Mel.”

“Obviously,” brushed off Abby, taking a swig of water.

“And they went together.”

Abby stopped drinking mid-sip. She put her cup down, Manny couldn’t be serious. “What you mean? Like as a couple?”

“Well, yes. Mel said it was kind of like a first date, couple thing. They kissed too, so uh, yeah.”

Abby was stunned. They fucking wouldn’t. Mel was supposed to be her friend and she swoops in for her ex? Couldn’t Owen find literally anyone else? Abby fucking knew something fishy was going when Mel would stop in all the time after Owen got injured from that molotov cocktail.

Suddenly she felt like the whole room was looking at her. Did everyone know? Feeling her face grow hot, Abby abruptly picked up her tray to leave.

“Hey, c’mon Abs,” tried Manny.

“I’m going back to the room, I can’t be here.” Her and Manny had recently moved in together as roommates, she obviously couldn’t stay with Owen anymore. The memories crept back up of her moving out of his room. The boxes she’d packed of her books and belongings. The many sketches and paintings Owen did of her and for her, some of which were hung up on the walls. She was always a little embarrassed whenever Owen drew her because he was starting to get quite good and the paintings were so flattering and mushy.

For her last birthday, one of his gifts to her was a painting of the back of her head and braid with the ocean in the background. It was honestly so beautiful and she loved it at the time, but when Abby was packing up just looking at it made her break into a few tears. She left it behind because she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore.

Abby reached their room, Manny was following close behind, knowing she was upset and wanting to talk her down. She basically slammed the door behind them, she needed to vent.

“Like are you kidding me? Seriously? Him and Mel!”

“Abby, he’s allowed to date other people. You’re not together anymore.”

“Yeah, well he should date some girl I don’t know, not fucking Mel! He knows how feel about her.” It wasn’t like this was completely out of the blue, she’d gathered over the years that Mel kind of liked Owen. Abby could admit it, she would get jealous sometimes when those two were friendly. Mel was also the opposite of what Abby was like, super nice and sweet, petite with dainty features. Meanwhile after her dad died, Abby could barely hold a smile, she could be abrasive, she worked out until she felt she’d collapse. She couldn’t not compare herself sometimes.

Manny tried to talk her through it, “They were already friends so it wasn’t that much of a leap. I mean, Jordan and Leah just started dating too.”

Abby glared at Manny, he was tight with everyone from Salt Lake. “You fucking knew, didn’t you.”

Manny crossed his arms, “Abby, I don’t spread what you say to me in confidence, nor any of my other friends.”

Abby felt tears start to well, she was feeling so betrayed, “But you knew Mel liked him and was going to make a move, didn’t you?”

It was the case, she just knew it. Manny sighed, “I suggested to her that she wait, but she didn’t take my advice. I think Nora said she should. Either way, he needed to move on Abby, guy was miserable. She makes him happy.”

Abby shook her head, there was really no one who understood, who was on her side. This was so fucking pointless. God, she needed to get out on the field and take down some Scars, or maybe pull out some of their teeth back at the FOB.

“Yeah, I bet she told you everything, Manny, and you kept her intentions to fuck your best friend’s ex to yourself. You know what? Why don’t you go check up on Mel and see how Mel’s doing after her fun night out.” Abby was fuming, pacing the room.

Manny could tell this wasn’t going anywhere positive, “Okay Abs, I’m gonna let you cool off. But I swear, I’m here for you, I’m here for all of us. We can talk about it later if you feel like it.”

“Whatever.” Abby went towards the window, she just wanted to be left alone. She heard the door open and shut. As soon as it closed she felt hot tears stream down her cheeks. She knew she really had no one to blame but herself, she pushed him away, she was the one who made the relationship not work.

Maybe she just needed a good cry to come to terms with it, she couldn’t be acting a fool in front of people. She knew the whole WLF was going to talk about this, bring it up and gauge her reactions.

A sudden urge hit her. Abby didn’t keep most of the art and presents Owen got her, but she did have one. Up on her top bunk was a box of various trinkets, she pulled it down, and took out a folder with some papers in it. It was still in there, Owen’s sketch he did of her back in Salt Lake. They’d snuck out, she fallen asleep under a tree and he sketched her sleeping and wrote her a love letter. That’d been the day before everything went to shit, her last happy day.

Abby gripped the top of the page to tear it in half. She almost, almost did. But for her all her new found strength she couldn’t do it. This was more than just some silly drawing.

She stopped, looked at the paper. A rogue tear fell onto the words. Abby wiped her face, she didn’t want to mar it anymore than that. With slightly shaking hands, Abby put the picture back in the folder, back in the box, and tucked it away.

#my fanfic #fanfic #Abby #owen #manny

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fremedon · 3 years

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It’s almost Yuletide! This will be my 18th Yuletide! My first Yuletide story will be old enough to vote this year and I have some mixed feelings about that! But also I have never missed or defaulted on a Yuletide since, and I have to say I feel pretty proud of that. I am still pretty far down the Les Misérables rabbit hole (speaking of which, it is not too late to propose programming for Barricades!), and unsurprisingly all the fandoms I'm nominating/requesting this year are set in July Monarchy France--Les Mis canon era: Petit-Cénacle RPF, Champavert: Contes Cruelles | Champavert: Immoral Tales - Pétrus Borel, and Les Enfants du Paradis | Children of Paradise. Petit-Cénacle RPF The Petit-Cénacle was a French Romantic salon, slightly younger and considerably more politically radical than the Cénacle centered on Hugo and Dumas; it included painters and sculptors as well as writers and critics, and most of its members at least dabbled in both written and visual arts. Its best-known members today are Théophile Gautier, Gérard de Nerval, and Pétrus Borel (the Lycanthrope)--the last two are thinly fictionalized in Les Misérables as Jean Prouvaire and Bahorel. (It's debatable how much Grantaire owes to Gautier but it's probably a nonzero amount.) The group coalesced around Borel and Nerval as the organizers of the Battle of Hernani--a fight between Romantics and classicists at the premiere of Victor Hugo's play Hernani in 1830. Most theater productions at this time had claques--groups of paid supporters of a show or an actor, who were planted in the audience to drum up applause. For Hernani--the first Romantic work staged at the prestigious Comédie-Français, which broke classical norms so thoroughly that it no longer seems at all transgressive--Hugo and the theater management decided they were going to need more than just a claque. They recruited a few of Hugo's fans--Gautier was so star-struck he had to be physically hauled up the stairs to Hugo's apartment--to stage An Event. The fans recruited their friends. They showed up in cosplay, with the play already memorized and callback lines devised. It was basically the Rocky Horror Picture Show of its day. It almost immediately turned into an actual fight, with fists and projectiles flying. And it made Hernani the hottest ticket in Paris. This is the group's origin story, and they pretty much spent their lives living up to it. They were every bit as extra as you would expect--Nerval allegedly walked a lobster on a leash in the Champs-Elyseés, explaining that "it knows the secrets of the deep, and it does not bark"--but they also stayed friends all their lives, often living together, supporting each other through poverty and mental illness and absurd political upheaval. I'm nominating Pétrus Borel | Le Lycanthrope, Théophile Gautier, Gérard de Nerval, and Philothée O’Neddy; you could nominate other people like Jehan Duseigneur, Celestin Nanteuil, or the Deverias, or associates of the group like Dumas and Hugo. The Canon Gautier's History of Romanticism covers the early days of the group and the Battle of Hernani in some detail. (There is also a 2002 French TV movie, La bataille d'Hernani, which is charming and pretty accurate; hit me up if you want a copy.) Other than that--this crowd wrote a lot, and they're all very present in their work--even in their fiction, which is shockingly modern in a ton of ways. For Gautier, Mademoiselle de Maupin has a lot of genderfeels, surprisingly literal landscape porn, and a fursuit sex scene in chapter two. If you want Nerval's works in English, you might be limited to dead-tree versions, but I highly, highly recommend The Salt Smugglers, a work of metafiction that answers the question, "What if The Princess Bride had been written in 1850 specifically to troll the press censorship laws of Prince President Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte?" Borel's experimental short story collection Champavert has a new and very good English translation by Brian Stableford and is also my next fandom :D. Champavert: Contes Immoraux | Champavert: Immoral Tales - Pétrus Borel Last year I requested Borel RPF but I decided this book was unfanficcable. This year, I am going to have a little more faith in the Yuletide community. Champavert, available in ebook and dead tree form, is a weird as hell little book and probably the best thing I read last year. It's an experimental short story collection from 1830. Someone on one of my Les Mis Discords described it as "a collection of gothic creepypasta, but the author is constantly clanging pots and pans together and going 'JUST IN CASE you didn't notice, the real horror was colonialism and misogyny all along and i'm very angry about it!'" And, yeah, pretty much that, with added metafictional weirdness, intense nerding about architecture and regional languages, and the absolute delight that is Borel's righteously ebullient voice. Borel wrote for a couple of years under the name of The Lycanthrope, and though he kills the alter ego in this book, the name stuck, and would continue to be used by friends and enemies alike all his life. Pretty much everyone who met Pétrus agreed that 1) he was just ungodly hot; 2) he was probably a werewolf, sure, that makes sense; and 3) he was definitely older than he claimed to be, possibly by centuries, possibly just immortal, who knows. But, like I said, he kills the alter ego in this book: it begins with an introduction announcing that "Pétrus Borel" has been a pseudonym all along, that the Lycanthrope's real name is Champavert--and that the Lycanthrope is dead and these are his posthumous papers, compiled by an unnamed editor; the papers include some of Borel's actual poems and letters, published under his own name. The final story in the collection is called "Champavert, The Lycanthrope," and is situated as an autobiographical story, following a collection of fictional tales--which share thematic elements and, in the frame of the book, start to look like "Champavert"'s attempts to use fiction to come to terms with events of his own life. And that's probably an oversimplification; this is a dense little book and it's doing a lot. The subtitle is Contes Immoraux. It's part of a genre of "contes cruelles" (and, content note for. Um. A lot), but it's never gratuitously cruel--it's very consciously interrogating the idea of the moral story, and what sort of morality is encoded in fables, and what it means to set a story where people get what they deserve in an unjust world where that's rarely the case. I'm nominating the unnamed editor, Champavert, his friend Jean-Louis from the introduction and the final story, and Flava from the final story; you could also nominate characters from the explicitly fictional stories. Les Enfants du Paradis | Children of Paradise This is a film made between 1943 and 1945 in Vichy and Occupied France and set...somewhere?...around the July Revolution, probably, I'll get into that :D. There's a DVD in print from Criterion and quite possibly available through your local library system. (And it's streaming on Amazon Prime and the Criterion Channel.) It's beautifully filmed, with gorgeous sets and costumes and a truly unbelievable number of extras, and some fantastic pantomime scenes. (On stage and off; there's a scene where a henchman attempts to publicly humiliate a mime, and it goes about as well as you would expect.) "Paradise," in the title, is the equivalent of "the gods" in English--the cheap seats in the topmost tier of a theater. It's set in and around the theaters of the Boulevard du Temple--the area called the Boulevard du Crime, not for the pickpockets outside the theaters but for the content of the melodramas inside them. The story follows a woman called Garance, after the flower (red madder), a grisette turned artists' model turned sideshow girl turned actress turned courtesan, and four men who love her, some of whom she loves, all of whom ultimately fail to connect with her in the way she needs or wants or can live with. This sounds like a setup for some slut-shaming garbage. It's not--Garance is a person, with interiority, and the story never blames her for what other people project onto her. Of those four men, one is a fictional count and the other three are heavily fictionalized real people: the actor Frédérick Lemaître, the mime Baptiste Deburau, and the celebrity criminal Lacenaire. Everyone in this story is performing for an audience, pretty much constantly, onstage or off: reflexively, or deliberately, or compulsively. Garance's survival skill is to reflect back to people what they want to see of themselves. She never lies, but she shows very different parts of herself to different people. We get the impression that there are aspects of herself she doesn't have much access to without someone else to show them to. Frédérick is also a mirror, in a way that makes him and Garance good as friends and terrible as lovers--an empty hall of mirrors. He's always playing a part--the libertine, the artist, the lover--and mining his actual life and emotions for the sake of his art. Baptiste channels his life into his art as well, but without any deliberation or artifice--everything goes into the character, unfiltered. It makes him a better artist than any of the others will ever be, but his lack of self-awareness is terrifying, and his transparency fascinates Garance and Frédérick, who are more themselves with him than with anyone else. Lacenaire, the playwright turned thief and murderer, seems to no self at all, except when other people are watching. Against the performers are the spectators: the gaze of others--fashion, etiquette, and reputation--personified by Count Mornay; and the internal gaze personified in Nathalie, an actress and Baptiste's eventual wife, who hopes that if they observe the forms of devotion for long enough the feeling will follow. The time frame is deliberately vague--it's set an idealized July Monarchy where all these people were simultaneously at the most exciting part of their careers. In the real world, Frédérick turned his performance of Robert Macaire into burlesque in 1823, Baptiste's tragic pantomime Le Marrrchand d’Habits! ("The Old-Clothes Seller") played in 1842, and Lacenaire's final murder, for which he is guillotined, is 1832; these all take place in Act II of the movie within about a week of each other. (Théophile Gautier, mentioned but tragically offstage in the film, was a fan of Baptiste; Le Marrrchand d’Habits! started as Gautier's fanfic--he wrote a fake review of a nonexistent pantomime, and the review became popular enough the Theater des Funambules decided to actually stage it. It only ran for seven performances.) I am nominating Garance, Frédérick Lemaître, Baptiste Deburau, and Pierre François Lacenaire. You could nominate any of the other characters (Count Mornay, Nathalie, the old-clothes seller Jéricho, Baptiste's father, his landlady, Nathalie's father the Funambules manager). Gautier, regrettably, does not actually appear in the film but you can bet that's going to be one of my prompts. So, that's one good movie you definitely have time to watch before signups, several good books you probably have time for and that are probably not like whatever else you're reading right now, and one RPF rabbit hole to go down! Please consider taking up any or all of these so that you can write me fanfic about Romantic shenanigans.

#yuletide #crosspost from Dreamwidth #petit-cenacle #champavert #children of paradise #les enfants du paradis #petrus borel

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sebastianshaw · 3 years

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In one of the X-Men Discord servers that I’m on, there is a section for the internal thoughts of the characters that you write. Naturally, I use this to be COMPLETELY HORRIBLE with Shaw. Here is a compiled list of things he has thought there. Read at your own risk, and trigger warning for. . . honestly I don’t know how to begin, but if you follow this blog I figure you know I ENDORSE NONE OF THIS. under the cut for your sake

- if you didn’t want to know about picking up a Filipino bar girl why would you ask how my day was it’s like screaming at a sushi chef for undercooking the fish - they bring me back to life but can’t give me a new goddamn back?! - Note to self, petition to Council to resurrect son Note to self two, remember his name and which one he is this time - so there’s just an indeterminate number of telepathic teen girls here who look almost exactly like Emma before her nose job? I don’t even want to know at this point seriously though how many are there I can’t tell they’re goddamned identical--- -literally just going to hire this girl to scratch my back she's good at it JESUS THE RELIEF - Aloba Dastoor is a sweet, well-mannered young man. I think I'd like to rearrange his intestines with my--- - why does every gay man into pup play have a dead mother he didn't get to come out to what is the connection here IT'S EVERY TIME - by damn why does no one discipline their children, you may think this is cute but everyone else is looking at you to sort your little crotch debris out or SOMEONE ELSE WILL - that boob job is so bad she looks like a Hasbro knockoff - you just can't be sure about a person until you know what they think of the fall of Constantinople in 1453 by the Ottoman forces led by Mehmed II - they're NOT bongos they are CONGAS they are the SAME SIZE - This is less an ingrown hair at this point and more of an ingrown wig - such a lack of decorum, I have bad days sometimes too but it hardly ever results in murder - his arm looks like a big veiny cock never thought I'd get hard just seeing an arm - wish you really could get oil from babies - gold plated bare breasted - Wait so who was in the trunk - thinking about how this island doesn't have taxes is better than opioids - It’s gonna be a closed casket funeral buddy - it looks rather anal - organizer my ass that fool couldn't organize a blow job if he was in a Nevada brothel with a pocket full of a hundred dollar bills - I'd rather put up with a candiru than these people - some people are impossible to underestimate - cannot sit down without a beautiful woman trying for my wallet I'M FUCKING WORKING JESUS F---- - -- wait which one is my kid fuck which one do I take maybe both maybe just say my kid wanted to bring a friend home fuck fuck fuck maybe I should just ask the daycare they have to get fathers asking that SOMETIMES should also ask if she’s free tonight --- - fucking PLASTER in my mouth need to learn to close my fucking facehole when I barge through a wall--- - Cannot BELIEVE that woman asked me if I dropped Shinobi on the head as a child, that's making a very bold assumption that I EVER HELD HIM AT ALL - another morning where I can’t seem to piss quite everything out, is this a resurrection issue or do I have another kidney stone - - -not that I am complaining about the view but why don't hippies wear bras do they think it kills trees is it the rubber in the elastic since rubber comes from plants or maybe it's the metal underwire do they not like metal is that why they don't shave--- - it's a paradox. I believe a man is responsible for his own mistakes. This means Shinobi alone is to blame for his failures. At the same time, he is -my-mistake. - note to self, if a mother asks "but what if the baby remembers it?" the correct answer is not "then he'll know how to please a woman" - how was I supposed to NOT laugh when it slipped out of the slave?? - do me this, flog me that, sometimes I just want to sleep. it's been a long day. it's been a long life. - oh god I'm stuck in her like the Suez Canal - Nope, don’t do it old boy. She’s crazy. Not typical clingy co-ed with daddy issues crazy, this is wake up with your cock in a jar crazy. I know we love that. But we love our penis more. - I'm not handsome but jesus his teeth look like he was breastfed through a grease nipple - Even a shotgun wouldn’t shoot its load on THAT face - I’ve seen bigger breasts in the chicken meat aisle - Looks like the kind of guy who would call his grandmother to change his flat tire - Why does no one listen when I warn them "hold on tight, this will hit you like a tank" WHY DO YOU THINK I INSTALLED THE HAND RAILS YOU IDIOTS - why do I even take the triple espresso shots overthinking keeps me awake enough - I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than spend ten seconds in these Council meetings -I don't see what the fuss is, there shouldn't be any fluid left on it - It’s all fun and games until somebody loses a penis - ok, plan is to suck a lemon first to mitigate the taste, then bypass my tongue with a boba straw - note to self: tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of cloth. tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of cloth. tub of lard, rubber fist, strip of--Message #internal-thoughts - how the fuck am I this drunk and STIll have a headache? besides Shinobi that is - that man’s penis is a deadly weapon - It’s alive you can see it’s mouth open up right before it gets deep throated - This is why I keep a dozen fresh eggs in my car at all times. - You see anti-homeless spikes, I see free seating for hundreds - Well, I suppose him calling me a "bootlicker" was TECHNICALLY not incorrect but--- - in fairness to her, if I were covered in fingers, I would be doing that too - I am not a squeamish man but "genitalia turns into a blood hyperbeam cannon" was not a power I was prepared to very LITERALLY face - The amount on the ceiling is mind-boggling - her gag reflex is as absent as her father - I'd tell @Roberto Da Costa he's a disappointment, but I'm afraid he'd call me daddy - God damn, he still ate it?? Go buy new lettuce you weird fuck - Wait, are they gay racists? Gaycists? BROKEBACK BIGOTS?! - It burns, but that's how you know it's working. - How was HE the fastest sperm? Must have been like a goddamn Special Olympics swim

#internal thoughts #Shaw please

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xxrainbow-princessxx · 4 years

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Firm Hand, Soft Heart - Leo x Isabella (N*FW, 🍋)

This fic is for Day 1 of the CFWC Kinktober Challenge

Day 1: Brat Taming | First Time | Aftercare

The words used in bold are included in this fanfic. Please only read if you are comfortable with the subject matter and also you are 18+. PSA completed.

TW: In this fic we will be discussing brat taming, punishment, sub drop and aftercare.

Tagging: @drakewalkerfantasy @itslaniquelove @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @rafasgirl23415 @texaskitten30 @rainbowsinthestorm @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @choicesficwriterscreations

All under the jump!! ❤️❤️

“You got this big guy...” Liam patted his brother’s shoulder, “I didn’t think she would show... But you’ve always had her wrapped around your little finger anyway...” Leo flashed a bright smile to his brother chuckling, “I’m not so sure about that... before, maybe...” Isabella and Leo hadn’t spoken in weeks after she saw him being snapped by the paparazzi with a statuesque blonde Swedish model draped around him in a nightclub in Monaco, “...but now, I’m not so sure...” Liam gave the Crown Prince a knowing look as he laughed heartily, “You can handle her... Isabella doesn’t listen to reason and seemingly... neither do you...” The brothers watched attentively as the Crown Princess’ thigh high louboutin boots clicked across the marble flooring, surrounded by guards and her father’s advisors in step. Leo winced slightly as his eyes followed her petite frame analysing every curve whilst she walked past in a short black bodycon dress. Isabella’s long chestnut brown hair had been straightened out, bouncing and flowing down her back only added to her polished look. Biting down on his lip, he knew he needed something to help him calm down; she looked good.

Leo’s brow raised as he threw back his measure of Cordonia’s finest apple brandy, warming his chest as the fiery liquid quelled his anxieties. He hated negotiations, he hated having to host anything but Constantine demanded it and knowing that Isabella being there would be difficult in more ways than one, knowing she would bust his balls when given the chance just to test him. Constantine insisted on the meetings, he wanted Cordonia to be put on the map, he wanted the neighbouring Kingdom’s to know that Cordonia was open for business. What Leo didn’t anticipate was the Laurentian Princess’ arrival, swearing blatantly after their last argument she would never step foot in Cordonia again. It didn’t matter that Leo apologised, sent flowers or jewellery, the Princess didn’t want to know returning everything with a delightful note telling him to ‘Fuck off...’ along with anything he sent. Watching the Princess storm through the Cordonian Palace glaring at anyone who looked in her direction, Leo turned to Liam, “Well brother...” barely managing a carefree smile, Leo ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, “Wish me luck!”

Leo wasn’t in the mood for any of this, let alone having to deal with the petite brunette’s wicked temper as an addition to his roster of duties. The Laurentian Crown Princess stepped in for her father as a last minute change to his schedule and no matter how much she protested, Isabella knew that she would have to bite the bullet. If it was going to be painful for her, she most certainly wasn’t going to make it easy for Leo. Isabella sat in the drawing room, her lips pursed as her dark chocolate brown eyes glared towards the clock, he was late and he was wasting her time once again. Her eyes narrowed, rolling across to the right as the door finally opened with Leo smiling as if nothing happened pulling on the sleeves of his crisp white shirt fixing his cufflinks, “Good afternoon...” he warmly greeted those in the room, almost chuckling noticing Isabella folding her arms remaining in her seat, “Good to see you Princess...” he teased, sitting opposite her, “The pleasure is not reciprocated...” huffed the brunette, “You’re late...” she bluntly added before pushing forward a list of considerations. Leo’s sea green eyes initially met hers. He tried not to notice the golden speckles of honey that glittered in her irises, accentuated by the sunshine coming through the windows flooding the drawing room with light. Isabella didn’t speak as Leo unfolded the page passed to him, the less she had to speak to him, the better.

Momentarily Leo broke eye contact with Isabella to read her demands. Leaning back on his chair, the Crown Prince bit down on his lower lip chuckling, “Are you trying to insult me? I’m afraid it’s not working...” Isabella rolled her eyes and with a heavy sigh she snapped, “The last time I checked... the world doesn’t revolve around you Señor Rys...” Leo laughed to himself, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair before he glared at the petite Princess, his voice lowering, laced with authority, “I’ll remind you, that in my Kingdom - it does...” Isabella’s almond shaped eyes slowly narrowed with disgust, Snapping “Fuck you!” to the surprise of their advisors, “Your Royal Highness...” they began to panic, “You... you...” before turning to Leo, “We can only...” Leo stared at Isabella. As she raised her dark, arched brow, Leo knew this wasn’t playing politics for her, this was payback. She was acting up on purpose. The Crown Prince noticed a barely noticeable flicker of delinquency in her eyes, knowing that the petite brunette was getting off on the struggle of power. Sucking in his cheeks, Leo commanded “Can you give me a moment alone with the Crown Princess? Everyone else... out!” Their advisors looked at one another but as the tension grew in the room between the Royals, they finally agreed. “Yes... we’ll reconvene once you both are ready...”

Leo stood as she glared angrily at Isabella, walking across the desk towards her. Purposely Leo kicked the chair that Isabella was sat on, causing her to angrily rise to her feet. The Laurentian Princess raised her hand but Leo held onto her wrist. She watched as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, turning from a sea green to a sparkling emerald. Leo’s voice deepened to a guttural growl, “If you’re going to act like a brat... I’ll treat you like a fucking brat...” his index finger traced her jawline, titling her chin to face him, their eyes locked onto one another, “Or are you going to be a good little kitten and behave?” Isabella pulled her face away as Leo began to smile, “Not the answer I was looking for beautiful...” His fingers traced the side of her neck feeling her breathing hitch slightly, he knew he had her. No matter what he had done, Isabella couldn’t help herself; Leo knew the petite brunette acted out to fuck with men but would submit easily when the attention she wanted came at a price. Carefully, Leo placed his hand around her neck with a very slight pressure as Isabella barked back, “Make me...” She was pushing all of Leo’s buttons but she wasn’t going to win. Not today. He leaned down whispering into her ear, “You want to say that again?” His voice demanded an answer, “Look at me and say it...” the Blonde Cordonian grunted.

Isabella could feel a shiver go down her spine, as the Crown Prince of Cordonia spoke, she knew exactly what she was doing as she looked up into Leo’s eyes with a coy smile, repeating herself, slowly emphasising her words, “Make... me...” almost taunting him into disciplining her. Leo chuckled as his hand rested on her waist, “Kitten...” he began to smile, “You know I’ll fuck the brat out of you if you don’t behave...” Isabella raised her brow in defiance with a coy smile scoffing at the thought but Leo wasn’t in the mood for her bullshit. Spinning the petite Princess around, she let out a squeal as Leo bent her over the table, his hands caressed her back until his fingers entangled through her hair, twisting it as his strong, muscular frame lay against her back, pinning her against the oak table. Leo kissed her neck slowly, lips barely brushing against her skin, whispering so only she could hear, “You know I still love you kitten... don’t you?” Isabella whimpered as Leo’s hands followed the curve of her body, “Talk to me beautiful...” her core was yearning for the Crown Prince’s touch as Leo put Isabella in her place. Leo discovered quite early into their relationship that Isabella had a power play kink. The Princess found control a turn on - very few dared to ever challenge her authority and she tested most men’s patience to an inch of tolerability but Leo knew if he could tap into that want; that need - she would make a very willing little after all of the brattish behaviour was firmly dealt with.

Underneath it all, Leo knew that all Isabella wanted was to be loved for her, to feel safe and someone to take the burden of control away. “Sí...” she purred as Leo tightened his hold, “Yes... what?” Isabella turned her head to look at Leo and with a smile, she cooed, “Sí... por pavor...” with a flutter of her eyelashes, Leo bit down on his lower lip, the hand he used to caress her ass, he raised it, striking her with a sharp smack. “How many demands did you have?” Leo growled as he pulled the hem of her dress up, exposing her lower half and little black lace thong. “Seven...” The word barely passed her ruby red plump lips before Leo’s hand connected with her bare ass cheek, rolling her eyes as she purred. “Count!” Leo barked as Isabella’s chest heaved, “One...” “Two...” Leo’s fingers danced across her aching clit, “Kitten... you are so fucking wet...” “Three...” “Four...” Leo could only lick his lips with anticipation as Isabella was compiling, savouring her submissiveness as she stood there in her black thigh high boots with her red marked ass wiggling in the air. “Five...” Effortlessly he unbuckled his suit trousers, his erection throbbing, struggling to break free. As his trousers to his ankles, Leo pressed the tip of his cock against her wetness, pushing in deep on the first thrust. Isabella groaned as her pussy stretched, encapsulating and accommodating his full length. Gripping onto her hips, Leo wasted no time thrusting harder each time as the petite Princess gasped, reaching out aimlessly to hold onto the table, her ruby red manicured nails tried helplessly to dig into the table to hold onto something.

Leo clenched his teeth, he was nearly there. As his nostrils flared, he groaned loudly, immediately pulling out as he felt Isabella’s walls starting to contract around him, “Turn Around!” he barked with his deep voice, “Get on your knees beautiful...” Isabella pushed herself off of the table as her doe like chocolate brown eyes looked up at the Crown Prince. Hungrily, Leo pulled her close to him, roughly kissing Isabella until she felt almost breathless, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth to allow the moment to linger. Just because he was dominating her didn’t mean that Leo didn’t show his romantic side. He did love her and wanted to fulfil her every need. It was important for him to show Isabella he cared, not all of this was one-sided. Stumbling, the Princess stepped back before lowing herself onto her knees still with her dress pulled up around her waist, not once breaking eye contact. Taking Leo’s thick, hard pulsating member into her hand, she opened her mouth allowing her tongue to taste and tease his length. Leo entangled his fingers through her hair as he bucked his hips back and forth pushing his cock further into her throat. “That’s it...” praising the petite brunette, “You feel so good...” as he encouraged her to take more.

Isabella began to choke but Leo held her in place so she could get used to the sensation. Pulling her head back slightly, Leo grinned as she fluttered her long dark eyelashes up towards him, taking him willingly in her mouth. With a groan, Leo’s eyes narrowed, he could no longer hold back as his warm cum flowed freely down the petite brunette’s throat. Isabella stayed in place as her tongue once again slowly licked up and down Leo’s thick shaft dutifully lapping up any excess. Reaching out to take her hand, Leo helped Isabella up to her feet, pulling her close to him. Picking her up like a doll, Leo pinned the Laurentian beauty to the closest wall he could find, his lips peppering kisses along her neck, “I’ve missed you kitten...” Isabella pressed her head against Leo’s as they kissed once another sensually. Her eyes burned with desire and with a coy smile she teased “So much for counting to Seven...” Leo with a smirk set the Princess back down onto her feet walking back to his desk. Sitting down he smiled to himself watching as Isabella pulled down her dress, “Not so fast beautiful... you gotta earn those last two...”

Pouting, Isabella sat down fixing her makeup wiping away her running mascara and smudged lipstick as if nothing ever happened whilst Leo called the advisors back in. With a smile he ripped up Isabella’s demands, sending the torn pieces into the air, “We’ve agreed on Cordonia using Laurentian ports to export our goods...” Isabella’s eyes widened in horror, their advisors stepping in, “But Your Royal Highness... we can’t allow...” Leo stared at Isabella as he picked up a pen handing it to her, “Well Princess... if you want the remainder, you need to sign...” her advisors looked at one another but the Laurentian Princess never spoke. Did she broker a deal? Isabella looked up towards Leo, his glare made her feel almost giddy as she reached out for the pen immediately doing as she was told. After signing the request, Leo winked at her, “Good...” he smiled, “Now if you’ll excuse me...” he pushed his chair out, “I have an evening engagement to prepare for...” walking off, he turned to face Isabella with a devilish smile, “I’ll see you at Seven Your Royal Highness, I think you’ll quite enjoy tonight’s festivities...” Isabella sat with her hands carefully on her lap watching as Leo disappeared into the hallway.

Taking a moment, Isabella’s cheeks blushed, relishing that she was going to be somehow rewarded and painfully wanted those two extra smacks so badly. The Crown Princess knew she had made a deal with the devil, her head screaming at her to stop but Isabella’s heart drowned out all logic; she was good, she did as she was told. Quietly, the petite brunette rose to her feet, mumbling to her guards as she began to wander off, “I... excuse me...” towards the designated room she was given in the Palace. Immediately, the Princess wasted no time removing all of her clothing as a rush of sadness lay heavy upon her chest. Turning the controls of the shower, Isabella blinked back unexplainable tears. She was scared, she had never felt so alone. The water above her began to trickle down her petite frame, stinging her skin with each red hot droplet. Isabella lowered herself down onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest making herself as small as she could. She felt shameful, horrified at what just happened. Leo took her and then without a second thought brushed her off as if nothing really happened.

“Excuse me...” Leo turned, his conversation with a group of nobles interrupted, “Excuse me Your Royal Highness...” finding it strange that one of Isabella’s advisors would want to speak with him directly, “May I have a moment of your time?” Leo was ready to dismiss him, he’d had enough politics talk for a lifetime but the look of uncertainty and worry on the advisors face told him not to. “Yes...” he moved away from the group, so they were out of earshot, “Can I help you?” The advisor slowly sighed, “I know I am out of line to ask... but... did something happen when you spoke to the Crown Princess?” Leo’s brow raised in question. Fuck, did he hear something? Trying to hide his shock, he tried to laugh it off, “Whatever do you mean?” Shaking his head, the advisor sighed, “She just didn’t seem herself afterwards at all... Her Royal Highness didn’t really speak...” Leo’s sea green eyes narrowed as he looked around the crowd but he couldn’t see her anywhere, “Ok...” Leo nodded, patting him on the shoulder, “Thanks for letting me know...” with a gracious warm smile he continued, “Let me see if I can find her, I think she said she had a headache earlier... please...” he gestured towards the trays of champagne and canapés passing through, “Enjoy the rest of your stay...”

Leo knew what room Isabella was in, he chose it especially for her away from all of the other guests. He knocked on the door but there was no answer before trying the handle. Opening the door slowly and quietly, he heard the sound of the shower and Isabella whimpering. Leo’s eyes widened in horror, not knowing what he would find. “Isabella!” He shouted, scrambling to remove his dinner jacket before entering the bathroom. Squinting through the steam filled room, Leo could barely see her until he reached in to switch off the water allowing the dense haze dissipated. Isabella raised her head, her cheeks stained with black kohl liner and mascara. “Kitten...” Leo cooed, immediately reaching out for a towel, wrapping it around her as she sat motionless, “It’s ok...” Isabella didn’t speak as she averted her gaze from him, closing her eyes to hide from the humiliation. Leo began to remove his clothing before sitting down beside her with a towel wrapped around his waist. Leo coaxed the Princess into a cuddle and gently placed kisses on the top of her head “Beautiful...” he whispered as she sat behind her, holding the petite brunette tightly against his chest, “Just tell me what you need...” Isabella dug her nails into his strong arms, holding Leo as tightly as she could. His voice was always her favourite sound, she needed to be held, needed to be told everything was going to be ok.

“Wh... what’s happening?” she quietly stuttered, completely unsure of herself. Leo cleared his throat, his heart filled with guilt and remorse, “I’m so sorry kitten... This is my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone, I should have stayed, I should have fucking noticed...” Leo intertwined his fingers with hers whilst carefully and strategically placing kisses on the side of Isabella’s shoulder. Leo mumbled as he pressed his lips against her olive, sun kissed skin, “You know how amazing you are? You know I won’t let anything bad ever happen... I promise” Isabella’s body shaking in his arms as she began to slowly come around. She tilted her head slightly to look up at Leo and under all the running mascara, her dark chocolate brown eyes exposed her exhaustion. Placing his lips against hers, Leo kissed the Laurentian Princess slowly, his thumb gently caressed her cheek as his fingers cradled her jaw. With his next breath, Leo whispered, “I love you so much...” with a caring smile, he began to chuckle, “Let’s get you ready for bed beautiful...” carefully he rose to his feet, bringing the petite brunette with him. Removing the towel he put around her, Isabella and Leo quickly washed themselves before drying off and getting under the covers of the Super King Size bed that immersed the Princess’ petite frame.

Leo held Isabella as close as he could, staring into her eyes he tenderly smiled. With his thumb, he removed the last smudge of mascara that stained her cheek, “No one should ever make you cry... especially not me...” he swallowed hard as Isabella bit down on her lip, “Can you ever forgive me?” Isabella nodded tiredly before placing her head against his chest and in moments, she finally relaxed, falling asleep. Leo lowered his voice as he placed a kiss onto the crown of her head, “I’m not going anywhere kitten...” and no matter how many times his cell phone buzzed, he hung up or ignored the call, this was more important. He would deal with the consequences later with Constantine but Isabella was his priority. She slept for around an hour and wakening to Leo’s strong, muscular arms around her. With a chuckle, Leo gave the Crown Princess a playful squeeze, “Welcome back sleepy head...” Isabella’s eyes widened, placing her hand on his ripped chest, “What time is it?! You shouldn’t be here... Your father...” Leaning down, Leo began to kiss her softly with a smile, “The only thing you needed to be concerned about was 7pm... Constantine will be fine...” Isabella raised her brow, “Ready for what? Did you not say earlier you have an evening engagement?” The confusion across her face made Leo laugh, “You are my evening engagement... I was planning to take you to dinner, then kiss you here... here and maybe here for dessert...” he teased, “...and depending on how gorgeous you look when we are going out later, I’ll tear up our little agreement we made earlier...” It didn’t matter whether she was dolled up from head to toe, or if she had been crying with most of her makeup running down her face, Leo always thought she was gorgeous - Isabella just had to believe what he saw.

#CFWC kinktober #choices #leo x isabella #n*fw #🍋#the royal romance #prince leo #playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices the royal romance #queen isabella #royal romance au #playchoices fanfiction

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asgardlover75 · 4 years

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Wonderwall

So this is one of my favorite songs of all time. I love the simplicity of it and the fact that everyone loves to sing it, regardless of their taste in music. I’ve been thinking long and hard about how to write this one and had some ideas. One day last week I just sat down and wrote. Kinda nice when things flow like that. I’ve decided to go ahead and post it because if I keep messing with it I’m gonna go crazy. Lol

Thank you @buckysforeverprincess for hosting this and congrats on the milestone!

Enjoy!

Character Pairing – Steve x OFC

Triggers – some talk of foster care and neglect but nothing too crazy.

Song – Wonderwall by Oasis

Since Shield had been rebuilt, much to Steve’s disappointment, the Avengers had created a program that allowed some sharing of resources with other agencies. Those agencies were the federal and world wide governments and SHIELD of course. Sharon Carter had become director of SHIELD for its reincarnation and she had been doing a bang up job so far. Agents that Director Carter and a small group of trusted advisors thought were reliable and trustworthy could have a chance to work closely with the Avengers. That could entail going on missions across the world or helping out at the compound or Avengers Tower. In the last two years there had only been a handful of agents picked for this highly prized internship but Steve had to say he definitely had his favorites.

Aribella Stone was one of those favorites.

“Uh, forgive me Director but these stats are not as…they kinda suck compared to what you’ve compiled for us before.”

Steve sat next to Tony, rolling his eyes as he blew out a frustrated breath. Chastising the billionaire quietly, the captain gave his friend the stink eye and turned back to Sharon. The director looked unaffected by Tony’s outburst and even had a trace of smugness in her smile.

“No, the stats aren’t as high as what we normally select but this one is special. I think she will fit in nicely with your bunch.”

Tony froze, looking up at the woman across from him, puzzled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she’s good at her job and can hold her own with you assholes.”

Nine months later and the team joked about keeping her permanently because Sharon was correct. Aribella fit in so well with their group that it felt like she’d always been there. No, she wasn’t the fastest agent they’d worked with. Aribella couldn’t break down a weapon in record time or take down someone twice her size, but she was dependable and smart as hell. She also rivaled Stark in the snark department.

Sam and Bucky enjoyed her ability to word vomit her thoughts. She had no filter at all but no one complained because her insight was almost always valuable and her humor was on par with theirs. Tony and Bruce would often drag her into the lab to pick her analytical brain and outside the box thinking. Wanda and Nat just liked having another girl that they could just be themselves around.

She wasn’t the only agent working with them at the moment, but there was more of a camaraderie with Aribella than the other agents. Steve and Tony didn’t play favorites, each agent had their own strengths and helped contribute. Aribella’s were just more well-rounded than some of the others. The petite, 28 year old blonde had become an invaluable member of their team and none of them wanted her to leave, but her time was up and it was soon becoming someone else’s turn to learn from Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Then, the illness hit. All around the world people were becoming sick and dying and there was a race to stop the mysterious illness. Quarantines were instituted all over, especially in the bigger cities. New York was no exception. Considering around 8 million people lived there the team made the decision to move back into the tower, hopefully temporarily. Bruce and Tony would be working with scientists around the world to figure out the virus and try to make a vaccine. The rest would be ready to help out wherever needed and they needed to be in the thick of it.

Pepper was working on making sure all non-essential personnel made it home to their families safely and that they had what they needed during lockdown. Aribella and Nat had worked alongside her to prepare as well as they could for not only their employees, but anything the team might need as well. Tony and Steve had come to Pepper’s office to check on how things were going and share information. Aribella and Nat were gone when they arrived, which was probably a good thing. They needed to get working as soon as possible.

“We’ll need to keep a skeleton crew at the compound just in case. Sam has a list of those that are volunteering to stay, a couple would like their families to stay with them as well.” Pepper’s voice had a tinge of exhaustion in it as she shared where they were with Tony and Steve.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. The automated systems are enough to keep everyone safe. We can always run over and check on them if need be.” Tony responded, a bit distracted by the news on the screen in front of him.

Steve was sitting on the couch, studying his Stark tablet when he heard the worry in Tony’s voice and looked up. The banner at the bottom of the screen scrolled across with the numbers of those sick and infected and they seemed to climb every day. He knew that Tony was using every resource at his disposal to try and help the World Health Organization and the CDC get ahold on this thing. Sharing a quick glance with Pepper, Steve cleared his throat and tried to refocus his friend.

“Looks like all the agents on loan have been released to go back home. Three of them have volunteered for anything we might need and are willing to come back should something happen that we need some help with.”

“Does that include your girl too?”

Steve felt his face heat up at Tony’s playful tone but kept his eyes on the tablet. It irked him being so transparent that his friends had picked up on his interest in Aribella. Though their ribbing had been relatively gentle, Tony took every opportunity to goad him, especially when the lady in question wasn’t around.

“Oh, she’s staying.”

One dark and one light haired head whipped around to stare at Pepper. Tony’s Cheshire grin seemed to engulf his face it was so wide and Steve…if Bucky were there he would remind his friend to close his mouth before he caught some flies in it. The redhead’s face softened and she stood from her desk chair and walked over to her husband. Learning into his side, she slid her hand over his chest and smiled sadly at them both.

“She offered to stay so some of the security guards could go home and be with their families.”

Brow crinkling, Steve rubbed his chest over his heart trying to soothe the ache there. He knew why she had volunteered because he had stepped quite heavily into that minefield about one month after Ari had joined them.

“So tell us about your family Aribella.” Steve’s words had been intended to continue the warm atmosphere of the night but seemed to have the opposite effect as he watched her face change. A small, sad smile formed on her lips and she took a drink of the beer before speaking.

“Um, there’s not much to tell. I actually grew up in the foster system.” Her head came up to meet Steve’s gaze and saw the look of apology there as he opened his mouth to speak. “It’s ok.” The hand not holding her drink was stretched in his direction, palm towards him as if to stop what she knew came next. She continued, her voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s not like I go around introducing myself as an orphan. Please don’t feel bad about it.”

Sitting next to her on the couch, Sam reached over and laid his hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“You don’t have to offer anything you don’t want to.” His quiet, soothing tone bringing a smile to her face.

“I don’t mind talking about it. Just seems to bring the mood down when I do so I don’t tend to volunteer information unless it comes up.”

For the next hour or so the team had asked questions and Aribella answered them honestly, her instinct telling her that the information wouldn’t leave this group and that there would be no judgement of her upbringing. While she was open, she left many details to herself that night. Steve however, knew a bit more than his friends due to the late nights he and Aribella seemed to find themselves having.

Being a super soldier Steve didn’t need a lot of sleep and often found himself restless in the early morning hours. About a week after Ari’s revelation he found her on the balcony outside the kitchen, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a warm cup of tea held in her hands. She was staring blankly out onto the city and before he could consciously make the decision his feet carried him outside.

Despite obviously being tired, Ari greeted him with a warm smile and a raspy greeting. That was the first of many talks they had shared with one another and over the next few months she opened up to Steve about her childhood. It wasn’t always pleasant. Six different foster families before she finally graduated high school and the last one’s…well they weren’t unhappy to see her go. Just the money.

Steve thanked whatever deity existed that she never suffered any abuse in her homes but his heart ached at the neglect she found. Her first family was the most caring and the one she had for the longest. They had desperately been trying for a child and decided to foster in the meantime. Ari was just seven years old when she arrived at their house but it was filled with love and warmth.

A couple of years after her arrival the wife finally became pregnant and Ari feared she would have to leave. The couple reassured her they wanted her to stay but when the baby was born things changed. He was so sick and had so many issues they couldn’t manage both children. To this day she remembered how heartbroken they were to have to send her back.

“Melinda was nearly inconsolable in her grief. I remember, despite all the strain she was under, she was still so patient and kind to me. It was just too much for them. I don’t blame them at all. In fact, I still keep in contact with them.”

Steve turned his head to study Ari’s face. Anyone could hear the warmth and love in her voice for her first foster parents. He also saw the glassiness of her eyes and the way her shoulders pulled in as if to protect herself.

“How did their son fare, after you left?” His quiet inquiry brought a genuine smile to her face, despite the tear that fell down her cheek.

“Pretty healthy considering all the heart surgeries he’s had. Nathan is getting ready to graduate high school this year.”

The other families though…Steve had to remind himself that he could not go and visit them to give them a piece of his mind. He was better than that, despite every bone in his body itching to do so. Ari’s stories ranged from having to fix one of her foster family’s dinner every night, before she could do her homework or eat herself, to having to lock her door because she never knew if someone would try and take out their anger on her in their inebriated state. She definitely considered herself lucky to have made it to 28 years and still be a relatively sane and mentally balanced individual.

If anything the stories had only endeared her to Steve even more. He saw a young girl, alone with not much support, tough it out and make the best of her situation. It wasn’t easy but he felt a sense of pride to hear how she had taken care of herself after graduating high school. Signing up for SHIELD, finding a roommate and a place to live and working a part time job on the side. On the few missions she had been on, most locally, he witnessed her kind and compassionate nature along with her ability to protect those around her. Hell, he didn’t know anyone who didn’t like Ari.

While she wasn’t as lithe and skilled as Natasha, she definitely knew how to defend herself and work with a team. She had earned the respect of the Avengers for her brains and kindness along with her strong belief in hard work. Steve wasn’t sure when his feelings for her had started to change but it had gotten to the point of distraction lately. Possibly because they were all locked in together.

Her curves definitely did something for Steve as well, who had been caught by Bucky or Sam multiple times staring at their charge. Sam would just smile that canary eating grin but Bucky would give him crap when they were alone.

“Why the hell don’t you just ask her out, Punk. For a coffee or something. You know how much she likes her coffee.”

“She’s our teammate Buck. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

Bucky snorted and pushed Steve into the wall as they walked to the elevator.

“I’m relatively sure she wouldn’t complain ya big idiot. She’s almost as bad as you are with the puppy dog eyes.”

Those words had caused Steve to stop in the middle of the hall as he stared after the super soldier in disbelief. The shit eating grin covering Bucky’s face barely registered as he waved his metal fingers in a good bye gesture, the elevator doors closing and leaving Steve bewildered.

Present Day

Rubbing his face roughly, Steve felt the stubble starting to grow and wondered how the hell he hadn’t realized he needed to shave in the last few days. They’d been so busy working their asses off that basic hygiene seemed to suffer for everyone, not just himself. Setting the tablet down he sat back in his chair and spun around to look out over the city. It looked strange, even to someone who had viewed it before all the technology and millions of people came along.

Streets were barren of cars and people, an odd one of both things here and there. Many lights that were normally blindingly bright were dimmed or off completely giving the city a bit of an eerie feel. He definitely didn’t like it but it meant that people were doing what they should me. Staying home and staying safe.

It was past dinner when Steve finally made his way towards the common room. He had been so involved in the current information collected that he had lost track of time once again. Meaning dinner was over and everyone was probably back in their rooms already. Frowning, he clicked the tablet in his hands off and thought about what he needed to accomplish tonight.

As he neared his destination a soothing guitar sound filled his ears and he lost all concentration when he rounded the corner. Sitting on the ottoman was Ari. Her acoustic guitar was perched on her left thigh, eyes closed and he could hear her humming quietly along with the tune she played. It wouldn’t be the first time he had found her practicing in the big room, though usually Clint was here coaching her or singing while she played.

He grinned as he leaned against the wall and tried to quietly watch her. She had her hair pulled back into a bun tonight, one of his favorites only because she couldn’t hide her face behind her hair. Feet were bare, as usual, one leg tucked under the other as she sat up straight to play. The tune was repetitive but the notes soothing with a mood he couldn’t quite put a finger on. She made a few mistakes but plodded on and he watched as a proud tilt came to her lips.

“You’re getting better at that.” He offered quietly, watching as she turned her head to gift him with a smile but continued playing. A slight blush rose to her cheeks and he felt an ache in his chest at the sight. Man, he had it bad.

“Thanks. Though this is a pretty simple melody so I should be able to get it with as much as I’ve practiced.” Her statement didn’t hold any negative feelings about her ability to play. She had worked really hard on this song because it was one of her favorites and seemed to speak to her more than usual.

Smiling, he waited a few bars before he pushed off the wall and made his way to the chair a couple feet in front of her and to her right. He sat down heavily, leaning back into the cushion as he watched her fingers pluck out the notes gracefully. Her eyes slid closed, her right foot tapping out a quiet pattern to the notes she played.

“What’s it called?”

“Wonderwall. It’s by an English band called Oasis. It’s one of those songs that everybody knows and is usually sung by a lot of people. Sometimes drunk.”

Steve laughed at her words and leaned forward resting his elbows on his thighs. Their gazes locked for a moment before Ari looked down to hide what she was sure were her feelings written all over her face.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but what’s a Wonderwall?” There was a brief silence before Friday’s voice made them both jump, though his eyes didn’t leave Ari’s form while the AI answered his question.

“According to Urban Dictionary, a Wonderwall is somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly, and you are completely infatuated with. Writer of the song, Noel Gallagher told BBC Radio 2 in 2002 “ It’s a song about an imaginary friend who’s gonna come and save you from yourself.”

Quietly, he thanked the AI and processed the information. It was just a song. It didn’t mean anything, right? She said it was popular and it sounded relatively simple to play. However, Ari still hadn’t looked up and his stomach did a funny turn. She obviously picked it because it meant something to her. Ari didn’t do things just because. There was always meaning or a reason for something. Steeling himself for what could possibly be a mistake, he took a deep breath and gathered his courage.

“Will you sing it for me?” Steve’s soft request caused her head to shoot up and the air to catch in her throat. Soft blue eyes met hers and she saw the compassion and genuine interest in them along with something else she couldn’t quite place. Swallowing heavily, she nodded and cleared her throat willing her nerves to go away. Fingers strummed nervously over the strings before she took a deep breath and started to play.

Today is gonna be the day That they're gonna throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you gotta do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

Backbeat, the word was on the street That the fire in your heart is out I'm sure you've heard it all before But you never really had a doubt I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do about you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding And all the lights that lead us there are blinding There are many things that I Would like to say to you but I don't know how

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

Today was gonna be the day But they'll never throw it back to you By now you should've somehow Realized what you're not to do I don't believe that anybody Feels the way I do, about you now

And all the roads that lead you there are winding And all the lights that light the way are blinding There are many things that I Would like to say to you but I don't know how

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me And after all, you're my wonderwall

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me you're gonna be the one that saves me you're gonna be the one that saves me

It was comfortably silent in the room as she strummed the last few notes and Steve could see her fingers shaking against the strings. Slowly, he reached over and wrapped his fingers around the neck of the guitar and pulled it gently away from her. Ari’s eyes shot open and met his, a gentle smile coming to his lips at the vulnerability he saw. Steve didn’t break eye contact as he set the instrument down to his left and slid to the floor on his knees. His hands rested on the padded surface beside her thighs, not touching but ready to move in an instant if he felt any sort of alarm or resistance from the beautiful woman in front of him.

He brought his hands up to cup her face, resting them gently on either side as if he held the most precious thing in the world. Her pulse raced under his hands and he smiled, his thumbs feathering back and forth over her cheeks.

“Breathe sweetheart. I’m not sure I can handle it if you pass out on me.” Ari gave a wavering laugh at his levity and took a deep breath, her eyes closing as he held her. She felt his breath wash across her lips before he lightly skimmed his mouth across hers.

First kisses were always special, at least hers had been. This one though, was soft, sweet and short circuited her brain. Every pass of his soft lips on hers, he increased the pressure slightly, sending her heart flying. Her hands came up to rest on his forearms earning a hum from the sweet man who was kneeling in front of her.

Ari’s lips parted and Steve wasted no time deepening the kiss. He was still gentle, but his tongue slid across her lips then dipped inside to find hers. One of his hands left her face to wrap around her hip as he pulled his body into hers, chest to chest, and tilted his head to gain better access.

Neither knew how long they became lost in one another but finally the urge to breathe won out and Steve pulled back. Resting his forehead against hers they both fought to catch some air, hearts racing in their chests. Both remained silent, Steve’s eyes sliding open as he pulled back from her. When she finally met his gaze he smiled, his thumb rubbing over her cheek softly.

“Since you haven’t decked me yet I’m assuming that was ok.”

Throwing her head back, Ari let out a belly laugh at his words. Steve’s grin deepened as the sound of her happiness made the pace of his heart pick up again. Her hazel eyes met his as they crinkled with her humor and she leaned forward to place a kiss to his lips.

“It was more than ok. It was wonderful.”

“It’s about damn time.” The baritone voice from the hallway surprised them, causing Ari to yelp and move quickly towards Steve. Unprepared for both their audience and Ari’s reaction, Steve lost his balance and wrapped his arms around her waist as he tumbled backwards with an oomph.

Neither one of them heard footsteps but suddenly Bucky’s dark head was over them, hands on his thighs as he grinned in their direction.

“How long have you been there?” Steve asked confused, still trying to wrap his brain around what just happened.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t spying on you two. I came to get a drink and well, you didn’t notice because you were slobbering all over each other.”

“Buck!” Steve admonished his friend while Ari hid her face in his chest and laughed.

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with it. I’m glad you two finally figured it the fuck out. It was exhausting and frankly nauseating watching you two make eyes at each other.” Bucky’s words might have been harsh but the smile on his face spoke volumes. He was genuinely happy for his friends and glad he was the one that caught them, not Tony or one of the others. “Imma go get my drink and leave you kids alone.” With a salacious wiggle of his brows, Bucky turned to go into the kitchen while Ari and Steve stayed right where they were.

Steve felt contentment wash over him, as Ari’s palm rested on his chest and her head settled on his shoulder. He reached up to wrap her hand in his and felt sure that the smile on his face was going to be permanent. The smile was gone with Bucky’s next words.

“You two might want to skedaddle in case one of the others come in here. They won’t be quite so nice about finding you two in a compromising position as I am.” As he was leaving the room he heard Steve’s snort and Ari’s giggle and found himself smiling almost as big as Steve had been just moments before. It was good to see his friends happy, now he had to go and find Sam to tell him the good news.

Thanks for reading!

#bfp3750 #steve x ofc #90slove

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artbymintcookies · 4 years

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As a queer, non-Black person of colour, i didn’t know how to go about a pride post for this month, and I do not want to speak over the black members of this community, but I do want to speak to those out there who are non-black or non-queer out there:

What we want from our pride is to celebrate happiness and love, and not to suffer dehumanization by the hetero/cis/white hegemony. We want a world where everyone is able to love and be loved in the ways they deserve, and we cannot do that when there are mass swaths of people who are killed remorselessly by a system that wants to see them suppressed or dead. There is no pride without Black pride. Take care of your children, take care of your siblings, take care of your fathers, mothers, cousins. When one person is oppressed, we are all oppressed. Extend empathy in these times. Love each other. Stand in solidarity.

Here is a link that someone has handily compiled of #blacklivesmatter sites

link

Sign petitions, donate, protest if you are able. Lives are not expendable. We are all in this fight together, we are all trying to destroy the Hegemony so that we can know peace.

(As a non-black person, I respectfully ask that you do not reblog this without also boosting the voices of black people and creators on this site. you do not owe anything to me.)

#black lives matter #solidarity post #pride #i don't ask for ko-fis but if you can please consider donating to a mutual aid fund or activist group or a black owned business instead #my art #original

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spaceskam · 5 years

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too late to turn back

wheel of crack wednesday on a saturday because days of the week are social constructs

ao3

“Max, he is dangerous.”

“He’s not that dangerous.”

“Dangerous enough!”

Max rolled his eyes at Isobel’s scolding. There were a lot of things that came to mind whenever he thought about Alex Manes. Dangerous wasn’t one of them.

“I’m honestly kinda proud,” Michael said, grinning as he stabbed a fry into an obscene pile of mayonnaise, “Max Evans, doing something wrong.”

“I’m not doing anything wrong! I’m doing something right,” Max insisted, shifting in his seat as his eyes flickered up to see Alex Manes sitting five tables over. He was sitting alone and completely lost in the book on quantum mechanics. “He has nowhere to go.”

“So you think, wow, let’s hide him in the basement Mom and Isobel won’t find out?” Isobel said, mocking his voice and then scoffing. Max rolled his eyes all over again.

“Please, don’t tell Mom,” Max said. Isobel scoffed.

“Oh, I’m not. Because if I tell her, she’s going to think I’m the one hiding the boy and just blaming it on you,” Isobel said. Max grinned.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Are you cold?”

“I’m fine.”

Max watched from the stairs as Alex made himself comfortable. He was sitting on the tiny, back-breaking couch that Max’s dad had bitched about until they got a new one. Alex didn’t seem to mind. His backpack was shoved beneath it for both easy access and easy hiding, and he was simply wearing two jackets and two pairs of pants instead of using a blanket. Too much evidence, he said.

“You’d tell me if you needed anything, right?” Max asked, slowly making his way closer. Alex smirked and looked at him, the strands of hair that had fallen from his haphazard bun making him look all the more daring.

“You know I wouldn’t.”

Max huffed a laugh, “You’re staying in my house, you should know you’re free to ask for anything.”

“I’m staying in your house and you’re feeding me–that’s exactly why I ask for nothing,” Alex pointed out. Max sucked in a slow breath.

Alex had such a way of speaking that was impossible not to listen and absorb each word. He was straight up intoxicating and it had Max confused about a lot of things in life. He recognized the feeling of infatuation, the borderline obsession, the terrifying need to protect. Isobel said it was super strange that he mothered everyone he liked. Was he mothering Alex?

“I brought you some socks,” Max said suddenly when he remembered the pair he’d shoved in his pocket. Alex laughed sweetly and accepted them with painted fingertips.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. Max sat and stared and tried to think of something else to say. He didn’t quite want to leave, but he didn’t know why he wanted to stay.

“So, uh…” Max said dumbly, looking to Alex and his long dark hair and his pretty eyelashes that brushed his high cheekbones every time he blinked. He was gorgeous. “Goodnight, I guess.”

Alex smiled and nodded. “Goodnight.”

Max climbed back up the stairs and made it all the way until he got into his room before he slammed his head into the wall.

“Okay, house is empty.”

Alex appeared from the basement door with a grin. His hair was down and stretching just past his shoulders, messy from sleep. Max tried not to stare too long. This was a problem. He couldn’t have a thing for Alex Manes. Of course, he already knew he did and he already put himself in a position where he had to be around him all the time. Oh, how easy it’d be if he didn’t put himself through hell.

“Here’s a towel,” Max said, stiffly handing out a clean towel to Alex. He took it sleepily and nodded.

“Thanks, man.”

Max stood like an actual creep outside the bathroom door. Well, in his defense, it was right off the side of the kitchen. He had limited places to stand. But, still, he stood only a few feet away and listened to the shower turn on and tried to come up with something to say.

Alex Manes was dangerous. Or, so he’d been told. Alex had been something of a local myth since elementary school. He got into his first fight in third grade, far before most testosterone-filled violence began. He’d slammed another boy’s head into the wall and got suspended for a week. No one really talked to him after that.

Middle school and high school were also filled with fights, progressively more as they got older. Every time someone mentioned a fight, the response would be “who did Alex beat up this time?”. Parents even started a petition to get him completely kicked out of the school. But the problem was he never got suspended enough to warrant expulsion, he never did enough damage either. Well, at least not in school.

The night before their first day of freshman year, Alex Manes got arrested for allegedly attacking his father.

The story went that his dad was simply driving and Alex lost it in a rage, grabbing his hair from where he was in the backseat and using it as leverage to repeatedly punch his dad in the face. Apparently, the charges were dropped because Mr. Manes forgave him. The more Max got to know Alex, the more he questioned what actually happened that night. What actually happened during all those fights Alex got into? Because the Alex Max had gotten to know was sweet and thankful. He had manners and was soft and wore Max’s socks even though their feet were different sizes and the toe area flopped around when he walked from the extra space.

That Alex was cute. That Alex was what caught Max’s eye in the first place. He didn’t like danger. He liked the way Alex would lean over to share his math book in class chew on his black-stained nails quieter than should be humanly possible. He liked the way Alex tucked his hair behind his ears and ignored every authority figure that told him to cut his hair.

Max disliked the handprint-shaped bruises he saw on Alex’s arms. He disliked the fact that he found a bag of extra clothes tucked in the back of the library with Alex’s favorite pen inside. He disliked how defensive Alex got whenever he asked if he was sleeping at school. He disliked the confusion on his face whenever he offered him a safe place to rest his head.

And now Max had spent five minutes staring at a bathroom door and wistfully thinking about the boy on the other side, easily another addition on the ‘maybe I’m not heterosexual list’ that he’d been compiling since junior year. How was he supposed to know who he was jealous of whenever he saw Kyle Valenti and Liz Ortecho kiss in the hall?

“Max, honey, are you in the shower?”

Max’s eyes went wide as his long thought process was broken by the sound of his mother’s heels against the floor as she came back inside. Without a second thought, he dove inside the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him.

“Yeah!” he called back.

“Is my phone in there?” she asked. Max’s eyes managed to get even wider whenever he spotted the phone on the charger beside Isobel’s straightener. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Uh,” he said, “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna come in real quick, I’m gonna be so late for work,” she rambled with a laugh. Max panicked and his world seemed to slow down as the doorknob began to turn.

And suddenly he was in the shower, ruining his shoes and staring at a naked Alex Manes.

Alex gave a shocked look as Max clamped his hand over his mouth, but his eyebrows soon came down in realization once he heard the sound of Max’s mother on the other side of the shower curtain.

“I don’t know how I even made it out the door without it,” his mother laughed. Max closed his eyes and prayed she would leave. He only reopened them because he felt Alex smirk against his palm and he got a few of a very wet, very hot male with his head cocked to the side and a raised eyebrow.

Maybe I’m Not Heterosexual Reason #54: THAT.

“I-I don’t know, Mom, aren’t you gonna be late?” he called. Alex wiggled his eyebrows and Max folded his lips in, trying to keep in any type of reaction. He wanted to smile. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to look.

“Oh, I know you don’t want your mom in the bathroom while you’re taking a shower, I get it, you’re all grown now,” she said wistfully and Max wanted to scream. Was this really the time for a childhood story? “It seems like just yesterday that you wanted me to wash your hair every night so you could play with your little rubber duckies.”

“Mom!” he said, feeling his face flush. Alex smiled wildly against his palm.

“Alright, alright! I’ll see you and Izzy at dinner. Be safe, I love you!”

“Love you too.”

He waited until the door closed to drop his hand from Alex’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Max said. Alex huffed a breath through his nose, shrugging his shoulders.

“Shit happens,” he answered. Alex turned around to face the stream and Max couldn’t help himself. He stared at the thick, wet hair and watched as it dripped water down his spine and down to the curve of his ass. God, help him.

And then Alex turned back around with a bottle of body wash in his hands and Max had to snap his eyes up to his face once again to pretend like he didn’t see too much.

“Is this your way of telling me to wash your hair?” Alex asked. Max forced an annoyed face to cover his embarrassment and climbed out of the shower, ignoring the squishy noises his shoes made. His face was burning and his mind was racing and he needed to get away from the really hot, really wet man in his shower before he tried something stupid. Alex’s laughter didn’t help.

“Just shower.”

“Wait, the duckies!”

Yes. Alex Manes was dangerous.

It was very, very difficult to reconcile how the man who had been laughing and teasing him on the drive to school that morning about rubber ducks was now being dragged out of the bathroom for slamming someone’s head into the sink hard enough to break it. The guy being dragged out behind him was bleeding, but upright and cursing up a storm. Alex was stoic as always.

“Dangerous!” Isobel hissed in his ear. Max shrugged her off and watched as Alex got hauled away.

The whole thing bothered him for the rest of the day. And here he thought he was going to be plagued with images of his tan skin all day. Instead, it was Alex’s ‘I don’t give a fuck’ face and his bloody fists.

Still, Max waited in his car for him after school ended. He stayed until all the other cars that didn’t belong to either football players or cheerleaders who were staying after school for practice were gone. Alex never showed his face. When Max tried to text him, he didn’t get a response. He thought about going home to see if he’d shown up there, but he knew better. He knew he didn’t.

Instead, Max checked the library. Then he checked the bathrooms. He checked the janitor’s closets. He checked everywhere until the only place left was behind the bleachers on the football field. Sure enough, Alex was brooding behind them with his stuff he must’ve broken into Max’s house to retrieve.

“What are you doing?” Max asked softly. Alex just tilted his head in his direction, face cold and hard like it was when he got dragged out of the bathroom. Max longed for the sweet version of him and tried really hard to think of a way to get it back. “I waited for you and you never showed. I got worried.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair,” Alex said, a tight smile on his face as he lifted his bag. Max frowned and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What?”

“Look, I know you don’t want me in your house, so I’m leaving so you don’t have to let your pity force you to let me stay,” he said. Max shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked the grass. What was he supposed to say? How did he properly word how much he enjoyed his presence without sounding super fucking creepy?

“I… I don’t want you to stay because I pity you. I don’t pity you,” Max said carefully, licking his lips, “I want you to stay because I like you.” Alex stayed silent. “Listen, I don’t know what happened today and I don’t know what happened with your dad or why you don’t have a place to go to, but I want to give you a place. I don’t want anything from you and I’m not doing it to make myself feel better, I just… I don’t know, you’re my friend. Friends help each other out.”

“You consider me your friend?” Alex asked. Max looked at him sheepishly and shrugged.

“I dunno, yeah,” he fumbled. Alex huffed a laugh and shook his head. Max slowly went to sit down. “I’m not scared of you like everyone else is.”

“You probably should be,” Alex said cryptically. Max picked at the grass.

“Well, I’m not.”

They stayed silent for a while. A long while. Long enough that football practice ended and the coach was probably questioning why his car was still parked outside. And if he wasn’t, then Isobel sure as hell was. But he had no intention of leaving unless Alex left with him.

Eventually, Alex spoke.

“He called me a fag,” he admitted. Max looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. “And he, like, did a stupid walk that I’m assuming was supposed to be gay and waved his arm around and shit. I told him to fuck off, but he shoved me and told me that I couldn’t talk to him like that. So I smashed his head into the sink.” Alex finished the story with a noncommittal shrug, frowning at the grass as he ripped it up like it personally wronged him.

“Seriously?” Max asked dumbly. Alex huffed and looked up at him.

“What are you surprised about?” he wondered. Max blinked and tried to decide what exactly he wanted to answer with. This one little detail about this one fight seemed to make the previous ones make sense. The first fight started whenever the boys in their class decided gay was the funniest insult. They got worse the more feminine Alex portrayed himself. Or, whatever it was called. Max never thought of the long hair or the painted nails or the jewelry Alex wore as feminine‒he simply saw them as Alex.

“He seriously fucked with you after you have a reputation of beating the shit out of people like him?” Max decided. It was the right answer; Alex smiled.

“Bigots don’t learn their lessons from other people very well,” he said. Max grunted in response, shaking his head.

“Dumbasses. Maybe they all just think they’re stronger than the last one and so they fight you on purpose to see if they can be the winner this time. Alas, you are the strongest padawan,” Max said. Alex’s smile got wider and he laughed, big and genuine, and threw some grass at Max. “I’m just saying!”

“I don’t know, man, I don’t know why they do it. And I know I shouldn’t feed into it by fighting, but I just get so pissed, you know?” Alex said. Max hummed and nodded. He understood sort of. He wasn’t a fighter, but, from what he knew that Alex didn’t tell him, he probably only knew how to be violent whenever his feelings got hurt. Part of Max, the mothering part, wanted to teach him a different way.

“I’m sorry they say that stuff about you,” Max said, “Are you suspended?”

Alex shrugged one shoulder. “Just one day. I told Mr. Johnson that Joel hit me first and I simply pushed him off and he slipped into the sink. Joel went with it.”

“Why’d he go with it?” Max asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Alex smirked something sinister.

“I don’t know,” he laughed, “But he did.”

They sat there in the grass for a little while longer, talking about nothing. It was easier than the nights he snuck down to the basement. Max didn’t find himself fumbling for words. It was just him and this boy he really, really liked.

“Would it bother you… if they were making fun of me for the truth?” Alex asked well after the sun went down. Max’s phone had gone off multiple times, but he’d ignored it. He would take a week full of yelling if it meant taking this moment with Alex.

“No,” Max answered honestly, “Well, it would bother me that people are fucking with you for something you can’t help.”

Alex let out a long breath and laid back in the grass. Max smiled at him and nudged his thigh with his foot. When Alex's dark eyes flickered up to him, Max gulped and laid beside him. They stared at each other and looked away and looked back and looked away. Max searched his mind for the words to describe it. This feeling. This… not straightness.

He couldn’t find one.

“I like this,” Alex said, turning his head towards the sky that he could see through the bleachers.

“What?” Max asked. His chest was full of something he couldn’t name.

“I don’t know. This, us,” Alex breathed. It was the kind of honesty that Max would choke on. Alex offered it easily. It was mind-numbing.

So, instead of trying to make his mind work, he propped himself up on his elbow. Max looked down at Alex and tried to find his words again. What was this? What did one call this? This all-encompassing thing. Alex Manes and his long hair and his dark eyes and his nice lips and Max’s desire to touch.

And so he did.

Maybe it was stupid, maybe it was primal, maybe Alex would kill him once he was done, but he reached out and touched his thumb to those lips anyways. Alex turned to him, eyes wide with a different type of shock than usual and then Max watched as it clicked.

Slowly, Alex lifted onto his elbow as well. Max held his breath as Alex’s tongue reached for his thumb. Then he wasn’t holding his breath. He just couldn’t fucking breathe.

Alex moved closer, eyes flickering from Max’s to his lips and then back. He was breathing. At least one of them was. So Max leaned in entirely and tried to remember what breathing felt like.

Kissing Alex Manes was not what he expected. He’d expected it to be rough, dangerous, quick. He didn’t expect it to be so slow. Alex dragged out each agonizing second, single-handedly putting Max’s heart in his throat with the sweet taste of his tongue.

Alex Manes kissed with purpose. It felt like he’d been planning this and had full intention to make it worth the wait. And it so, so fucking was.

“Wait,” Alex said after a few minutes of painfully slow kisses, gently pulling away. Max followed in a desperate attempt to make it last but settled for falling helplessly onto Alex’s chest as he laid back down.

Fuck.

Alex let out a breathy little laugh and patted his shoulder, gently rubbing his back which made it a million times harder for Max to get his mind straight. How was he ever supposed to think about anything ever again after that?

“Why’d you stop?” Max asked after he managed to keep his mind back down to earth just enough to question why the hell that stopped. He wanted that over and over and over. He didn’t want it all.

“You are one of the most painfully heterosexual people I’ve ever met in my life, Max Evans,” Alex told him, “I’m not sure why you just kissed me, but I have a feeling you’ll regret it once you’re in a better state of mind. I don’t want you regretting anything.”

Max furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his head to look up at Alex. He thought Max was straight. Granted, he didn’t have any outwardly gay or even bisexual things about him. Of all the billions of stereotypes they had for queer people, Max didn’t fit any of them.

He just fit the one box that was the only real requirement.

“I’m into you,” Max said, “I don’t… I don’t know what I am. I don’t know if I’m gay or bisexual or pansexual or… I don’t know, none of them feel right to me. All I know is that I’m into you and I’ve… been interested in other guys before. Just… no one real, I guess. I sound stupid.”

“No,” Alex said quickly, the softest, sweetest smile on his face that Max had ever seen. He felt blessed that it was for him. “No, you don’t sound stupid. You sound exactly right.”

Max swallowed harshly and kept staring until Alex moved in and kissed him again. Long fingers went into his hair and Max settled into Alex’s side. And they kissed. And kissed. And kissed.

“Let’s go home.”

”Fuck me.”

Max grinned helplessly as he looked up to Alex. He had pinched himself twice trying to wake up from this insane dream, but it never worked and he was still on his knees in front of Alex Manes. They had made it up to his bedroom where Alex was bracing himself against his dresser.

Technically, Max was grounded for not telling anyone where he disappeared to for hours and then ignoring everyone and then, when he finally did get home, refused to say where he was. He couldn’t exactly say he’d been making out with the delinquent that he was hiding in the basement, so he said nothing and took the disappointed look from his mother.

“You are way too good at that for a guy who claims to have no prior experience,” Alex breathed. Max smiled even wider and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood back on his feet and tried not to think too much about the way Alex looked up at him with his flushed cheeks.

“I don’t, but you’re a really good motivator to get good at it,” Max said and tried not to sound so fucking childish. He couldn’t help it. He’d never done anything with anyone of any gender past kissing until he’d gotten with Alex a week ago. He found it hard to control himself.

“Shut up,” Alex laughed, hand reaching up to pull him down for a kiss. Max took a deep breath as their lips pressed together. It was still too good. “Hey, can I ask a question?”

“Anything,” Max breathed. Alex snorted and scratched behind his ear like Max was a dog. And perhaps he was because he loved it.

“How much longer until I need to be out of the basement?” Alex asked. That very quickly sobered Max up and he pulled away with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do you mean? Why would you need to go?” he wondered. Alex gave him a smile that said he was naive.

“We both know the longer I stay, the more likely it is that we’re going to get caught. You know damn well that your mom won’t let us see each other if she finds out you’ve been sneaking me in,” Alex said. Max grunted unhappily and let his forehead fall onto Alex’s.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whined. Alex smiled softly and combed through his hair.

“I know, but we’re running on borrowed time.”

“Where would you go? If you stopped staying here, where are you gonna stay?” Max asked, fingers gripping at Alex’s sides. Alex shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out.”

“No, I am gonna worry about it. I don’t want you sleeping on a bench or some shit. I want you to be safe,” Max said. Alex didn’t answer. They stared at each other for a moment and then Max decided to ask something he knew he shouldn’t. “Could… Could you maybe go home?”

Alex took a whole step away and shook his head. “Not an option.”

“Why?” Max asked. He knew he was stepping into uncharted territory, but he didn’t want to lose Alex. He’d just gotten a taste of something good. “I mean, maybe you could talk it out with your dad or something. I’m sure he wants you back home.”

Alex was staring at him with that hardened face, the one that was never used on Max. It made him feel small. He looked down towards the floor.

“Not. An. Option.”

“I’m sorry,” Max murmured, “I just…”

They were silent for another beat until Alex moved back into his space and placed a hand on his cheek. They locked eyes and Max wanted even more for them to work it out somehow.

“My dad isn’t the type of guy to talk it out with, okay?” Alex said, “I’ll figure it out.”

Reluctantly, Max nodded.

“Okay.”

Isobel mouthed ‘I’m sorry’ over her mother’s shoulder. They were caught.

Anne Evans stood with her arms crossed and her eyebrows raised, Alex’s extra back just dumped unceremoniously at her feet. Max looked over to Alex who had his hardened face on. Thankfully, they hadn’t been kissing whenever they came into the room. That would’ve added an extra layer of shit.

“Care to explain?” she said cooly. Max grimaced and closed his eyes.

Except then he realized that he couldn’t do that. He genuinely had explaining to do. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince his mom to let Alex stay.

“He has nowhere to go,” Max started, doing his best puppy eyes, “I was doing a good thing, giving him a place to stay, right? Like, you wouldn’t just let a seventeen-year-old be on the street.” Max looked over to Alex and tried to make sure that he wasn’t offending him. There wasn’t really a good, clean way to do this.

“And you didn’t think to ask me?” Anne demanded. Max bowed his head. He really hadn’t. He just assumed the answer was no. “Maybe if you would’ve asked we could’ve figured it out. But instead, you acted like there was something to hide, which makes me think that there is. This is unlike you. You’ve always asked me first, but now you’re being secretive and hiding people in my house without asking. I cannot begin to articulate the absolute disrespect you showed me, Max. I didn’t expect this from you.”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Evans, this is my fault,” Alex jumped in, “I didn’t have to stay here, but I did. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Anne said. Max’s eyes widened and he instinctively looked to Alex.

“No!” Alex gave him a look that said 'not now’, but this wasn’t okay. “You have nowhere to stay, Alex!”

“It’s okay,” Alex said, turning to his mother once more, “I’m sorry.”

Alex left swiftly and then it was just Anne Evans and her two children. Isobel was looking awkward and out of place which was uncharacteristic and Max was glaring at his mother which was equally as uncharacteristic.

“I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. I know boys like him, don’t think I don’t. I don’t want that kind of person in my house,” Anne said. Max scoffed, rage boiling in him. She didn’t know anything.

“Alex isn’t like whatever you’re thinking. He’s nice and smart and he doesn’t do anything bad. He really just doesn’t have a place to go home to and it’s not fair that he’s being punished for it!” Max argued. Anne sighed slowly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“If he was really nice and smart, he would’ve asked for permission to stay under my room.”

“He doesn’t know how to ask for things like that! He assumes the answer is no!” Max spat, shaking his head, “I thought you of all people would be more sympathetic to him.”

His mother gave him a look that looked like Isobel and it became that much more difficult to see that they weren’t actually related. But Max felt it more than ever.

“Why in the world would you think that I would let a boy with violent tendencies into my house?” Anne asked. Max scoffed.

“Because you took in me and Isobel whenever you had no idea what we were capable of,” Max said. That seemed to shut her up. “Guess I was wrong.”

Max stalked up to his room and was already typing a text to Alex.

It took three days before Max finally figured out what ended up happening to Alex. He’d been rudely left in the dark from all sides whenever his mom grounded him and no one had been answering his texts. He wasn’t sure if he was just being ignored or if his service had been turned off.

Turns out, people were just figuring out all the gritty details before telling him.

“So you’re staying with Michael?” Max asked, eyebrows furrowed as looked at Alex. He was allowed to come over, they just weren’t allowed upstairs or in the basement. He had a feeling his mother knew it was more than they were letting on and she just wasn’t going to force him to say it. She would just treat it like he already had. He couldn’t say it was the worst-case scenario.

“Yeah,” Alex said with a soft laugh, “Turns out two people from fucked up families get along well.”

“I don’t even understand,” Max said, rubbing his head that seemed to ache with his confusion. Alex smiled at him and gave a small laugh.

“Well, your mom basically tracked me down that night and told me to get in her car. I thought she was gonna kill me, not gonna lie,” Alex admitted, “But she brought me out to Foster’s Ranch. I can live with them as long as I work on the ranch. It’s not so bad; Michael’s a good teacher. Besides, I think it’ll be good for me to get some of my aggression out by doing manual labor.”

Max licked his lips and nodded slowly. He wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about Michael and Alex spending so much alone time together on acres of land, but he couldn’t say anything. Alex had a safe place to stay. That was worth whatever the future might bring.

“And we can still see each other,” Max said. Alex nodded.

“And we can still see each other.”

They stared for a moment before Max looked around the room quickly and then leaned in for a kiss. Alex kept it short, but still accepted it willingly.

“Thank you,” Alex whispered, “For caring about me.”

Max didn’t know how to explain that Alex didn’t know the half of it. So, instead, he took his hand in his own and tried to think of the positives. Alex was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

“No problem.”

#wheel of crack Wednesday #manevans #manevans fic #max evans #max evans fic #alex manes #alex manes fic #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #rnm #rnm fic #my fic

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