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neteyamb · 1 year

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ashes to ashes: chapter five

pairing: loak x f!omatikaya reader

summary: as a healer, y/n had taken an oath to treat every patient with their best interests in mind. this hadn’t been a problem, until loak’s petty injuries become a routine. she has to swallow her pride and feign concern, feign kindness, and face the ugly hate that has been brewing between them for years.

tags: enemies to lovers, slight angst, best friend kiri, emotionally constipated aka on-brand loak, language

word count: 1.4k

notes: im on vacation, my deepest symapthies go out to myself for making me wait so long to find out what happens next

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

billie bossa nova: love when it makes you lose your bearings / it might be more of an obsession / you better lock your phone / and look at me when you're alone / won't take a lot to get you goin' / i'm sorry if it's torture though / that heavy breathin' on the floor / i’m yours, i'm yours

nova – a star that suddenly increases its light output tremendously and then fades away to its former obsurity

loak jumps back from you, heart in his throat like a deer caught in the headlights. he attempted to choke out a response, but his mind was slurred and his mouth had become dry, leaving his lips parted with a shaky breath. his mouth opened and closed repeatedly, almost as if he was trying to remember the fluidity of your own against it. he shook his head in a thrashing manner, snapping out of his daze. your fingers itched to touch his face, arms, chest, anything, but you were unsure if it was out of pleasure or anger.

slowly, loak began to speak, tearing you away from your inner conflict. he rolled his tongue over his lips before a coy smirk appeared. “same time next week?” you felt your face heat and opaque hate flooded into your stomach. of course he was toying with you; this man had so readily disregarded your career just moments ago. forcing yourself to hold his gaze, you take the bait. “are you deaf? i said get the fuck out of here,” you step towards him, shoving at his chest. “i hate you. don’t bother coming back to maiya’s hut, you’ve made it clear we aren’t needed.” your face sours at the image of him being left to fend for himself with a serious injury, but you quickly crush the worry when you recall his earlier words. he can go fuck himself.

✶✶✶✶

loak’s eyes darken as he walks away, fingernails forming deep crescents in his palms. it was his own fault. still, he blamed you equally; it was you that had approached him, you that provoked him into a physical fight. he only has so much willpower, and your baiting taunts were spoken through soft, inviting lips. for a split second, he was smug about having shut you up the way he had, but it was gone in an instant, replaced with the ugly, consuming fear that you would never speak to him again. despite your complicated relationship with him, you were always keen to jump back in the fighting ring the next day, and he had let himself rely on it too much.

he entered the family hut with his head tilted down, pointedly avoiding kiri’s questioning stare. he looked dishevelled, and his lips were swollen. she furrowed her brows. only y/n could make him as riled up as he looked; he would brush anybody else off with ease. “did you just suck face with a poisoned fruit or something?” his shoulders rose towards his ears as a shiver ran up his spine. “almost.” shocked, she dropped the wooden bowl she had been carving out. it rattled against the floor, completely forgotten the second it had escaped her grasp. “you made out with someone? you?” kiri has never been known for being subtle. or slow. he could see her visibly piecing together a puzzle in her brain, connecting this to their last conversation. “wait–” she starts.

loak closes the gap between them in four strides, frantically looking around the empty room as he presses a hand over her mouth. “quiet,” he hisses. kiri’s loud voice is muffled for a few seconds before she resorts to licking a long stripe on his hand. he jumps back, wiping it off aggressively on her arm. “ew, what the fuck?” she pays his complaint no mind. “you what the fuck. you kissed y/n?” she made a show of theatrically looking up at the roof in distress. “you’re in for it now.” he leans back, apprehensively looking away. “it was an accident,” he responds in defense. she balks at him. “look, i know. just forget it, i’m sure she’ll do the same.” it was an optimistic thought.

✶✶✶✶

you had not forgotten about it. days had gone past and you were still livid; loak had ruined any possible salvation of your relationship with the words he had said, and then proceeded to shove his tongue down your throat. still, you were angrier at yourself for the way you had readily accepted it.

avoiding him had proven itself to be a difficult task; dinners were communal and you could feel him staring you down expectantly, daring you to slip into your usual snide banter with him. what's worse is you had additionally been dodging kiri; you were sure she knew something was up, and you had no interest in being reminded.

you trudge into maiya’s hut, desperate for a distraction. you had yet to retrieve fresh plants from your regular gathering area this week, and stock was running low. she was beginning to ask questions. maiya’s eyes were trained on your stiff movements as you began to grind a paste, and she was worried that if you were to grit your teeth any more, they’d be sandpapered down to nonexistance. she placed a warm hand over your own. “y/n. take a break, maite. you can join me after you get some more supplies, hmm?” maiya was an assertive person; you knew she wasn’t asking for your permission on this. unwillingly, you set the bowl down and pick up your basket.

✶✶✶✶

loak was growing impatient. if that day by the creek made him uneasy, this was threefold. without your daily arguments, he had no outlet for pent-up stress and had been snippy with his father on one too many occasions. jake wasn’t a fan of this new, brash behaviour, and the lecture loak had received about it only served to make him more restless. you were like a nova; condensing all of your muddied emotions to suddenly clash divinely with his own, only to dissolve from his grasp all at once. abrasive frustration was eating away at his insides as the days went by, and he was more angry than ever. despite its overbearing presence, he couldn’t bring himself to regret what he had done.

loak watched your sudden dismissal from the healing hut, and determinedly recreated your footsteps into the forest. behind you, his eyes traced the slight sway of your hips and the gentle thumps of the gathering basket against your thigh. loak’s face twisted; he knew it was unfair of him to be irritated that you didn’t notice his presence once he had gotten close, but you had been actively ignoring him the whole week. he hadn’t gotten a rest from kiri’s interventions either; she would moan to him constantly about how it’s all his fault she’s been shut out by you and that he’d better fix it. he’s deluded himself to believe he was confronting you because of the soft spot he has for his sister, but it was in reality entirely for selfish purposes.

heart pounding, loak grips your bicep and flips you around to face him. “do you think this is funny? because i’m not laughing.” his syrupy eyes bore into yours, voice gravelly. you instinctually back up a bit, the small of your back now digging into rigid bark as you shift under his gaze. the corner of your mouth twitches in discomfort at his proximity. “what, have you gotten yourself another wound you want me to fix? not gonna happen, buster,” you respond evasively. loak grew more frustrated, but after so much silence, your voice rang in his ears as if it was his first time hearing it.

loak exhales sharply through his nose, involuntarily taking a few steps back. he doesn’t give you a chance to relax as he jumps head-first into the root of the issue. “i know you play a vital role in the clan. i never should have said you didn’t.” you eye him quizzically, waiting for him to continue. he struggled to keep himself from arguing against his own words, but if he wanted you to listen, they were unavoidable. “you were right to say my grandmother would be insulted,” he adds awkwardly, gesticulating poorly with his hands. it left a bad taste in his mouth, but after mulling the accusation over for hours on end, he came to the gruelling realization that it was accurate. he had never been disrespectful to moat; in truth, he actually admired healers a lot for the work they did. but watching as you would cradle him, care for him, all while having the upper hand, forced him to confront new feelings he was scared of. he will admit, it was a little immature in hindsight. you offer him no mercy, remaining tight-lipped and unmoving. persistent, he grunts his final proposal to you with an uneven tone, as if the word was unknown to him. “truce?”

⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧ ‧͙⁺˚*･

notes: get a room you guys

taglist: @weasleytwinwheezes @mrslandryy @amortencjja

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daisychainsandbowties · 8 months

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I'm sorry if my question made you feel that way, it wasn't my intention.

you know i never mind talking about why i find certain character dynamics compelling or interesting!!

and much is lost in translation when the anon sunglasses emoji comes into play but um, i think my feelings this time come from just having seen a… disheartening degree of negativity around what is a brand new thing, something we don’t have all the material for yet - and in any case a pairing between two characters i have love for individually and not simply through my shipping goggles (sexy as i know i look in those).

and there’s a reason i made a separate post instead of answering an anon - because i was just made aware of a feeling i’ve had forever about sapphic ships. i tell everybody how i didn’t believe avatrice would happen until they literally kissed in front of me (and yes, that’s very beatrice of me 😂). live slug reaction was me crying for an hour and yes that’s funny and YES, it makes me sad.

because it’s still so astonishing to me, and part of queer survival has (sadly) always been a matter of separating that hope from how i engage in things like shipping.

i’m very fascinated by shipping actually from a technical perspective! (i write at doctoral level about T4T and touch a great deal on this form of queer community, knowing that it helped me to survive when i should have been squashed by the machine that seeks to kill things like me before we get to be adults)

i don’t mind talking about why a ship just works for me; not many things can make me pick up my pen (if not for avatrice i wouldn’t be sharing my writing on here at all, and indeed i would be writing a lot less if not for the wonderful people who actually read it 🥰🥰) and so i usually have things galore to say about characters and why they work for me, but i like to discuss things in what i call “good faith” and that usually means that i don’t answer things that i feel i could respond to rudely or in a way that’s hurtful.

simply put it’s not what this is to me. um, not to drag out that Malatino quote again but i’m gonna because it’s everything

(Hil Malatino. “Future Fatigue.” Transgender Studies Quarterly, pp. 656.)

so, yeah! it’s all about witnessing, being with my friends not in a manner that precludes the acknowledgment of difficulty but one that is, at least, centred around love, seeing and being seen. i know it’s hard to express tone in that grey anon box, but in a sense it’s an old hurt to me; most of my work in fandom turning into justifying the fact of “making them kiss”. having to defend it like a position in chess, over and over again.

the reason i made a separate post was just to acknowledge to myself that i felt sad about it and weighted down by a lifetime of feeling invisible, having my hopes belittled and i suppose some of that hope (certainly as a teenager) being distilled into silly fandom ships but always having to say “this is a crack ship” or “lol i know the creators either hold me in contempt or simply don’t see my existence as important… but!”

it’s not your fault, and as always with humans we sometimes just encounter people at the moment something tips them over into an emotion we don’t deserve to be met with. that’s why i would never angrily answer an anon (certainty not one that, more than anything, i was struggling to read the tone of), because the issue is much bigger than me or one instance but it just made me think and then… feel sad about larger trends and how those trends made me feel so small when i was younger. so invisible.

i don’t want anyone to feel like it’s their fault because it’s not!! it’s the line we push and push and push in queer solidarity and yeah it can seem like these things (shipping) are inherently stupid and petty and unimportant but speaking for the kids who are alive because of it i don’t think that’s true. i agree with realism, and i think when it comes to canon we sadly still need to proceed with caution. more and more it seems like you can have your show, or you can have canon sapphic ships (this term - sapphic - used as always and forever in a trans-inclusive sense).

this is as usual a lengthy way of saying that (i hope) i went out of my way not to put this on anyone. it’s just a thing that makes me sad to reflect on as the flinching of a lifetime, so afraid to hold what i love and to talk about it because that hope is seen as pointless. but what’s the star wars rogue one quote again?

rebellions are built on hope 💖💖

#anon #sorry if there are mistakes too tired boi to proofread it

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joshua-flipping-washington · 7 months

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Here's a little tidbit of the story I'm working on.

A smirk made it's way onto Crowley's face at the memory. " At least they were more receptive than the humans in St.James Park. But- I think they took one look at you, this cheeky and angelic looking bastard, picking up me like I was light as a feather, telling them in your ' holier-than-thou ' voice to just watch the ducks swim, and didn't know what to think about a damn thing. "

Aziraphale's mouth fell open with a soft gasp. " Holier-than-thou voice? You know very well that was not what that was! I was embarrassed, if you must know! You- You took off after them like one of those misbehaving purse dogs from those television programs you love to watch! We were brand new to the neighborhood, and that was their first introduction to you. Must I put you on a leash like a yappy poodle? " He finished his sentence with both of his brows raised.

Crowley turned his head and stared at Aziraphale, arching one of his brows at all the words the angel had spoken, but his mind in particular got caught on the ' must I put a leash on you? ' bit. He mentally gave his head a shake to clear it. " Embarrassed of ME? What television program have I watched that has obnoxious little purse dogs? " He wasn't expecting Aziraphale to respond, as Crowley already knew the answer. He got bored once and started watching a reality television program, the petty drama was amusing. And there were in fact, yappy little purse dogs. Why the humans didn't just let them be dogs, he'd never understand.

" If I didn't know any better, angel- I'd say it sounds like you want to put a leash on me. " Crowley was mostly just trying to get a rise out of Aziraphale, he knew that it would further embarrass him. " Besidesss, we haven't seen them again since we first moved in. I highly doubt they remember much. " Even the demon knew that was a stretch, but he couldn't really be bothered to care.

Aziraphale's eyes widened and he grabbed Crowley by the black, red and gold woven scarf he was wearing around his neck, the very scarf he'd knitted for the demon because the yarn reminded him of him; and pulled him down so they were nearly nose to nose. " Crowley, I think you should find it wise to mind your tongue in public, dear boy. There are children around, and you know that's not how I meant it. " Though they both knew that Aziraphale could make good on it IF he really wanted to.

Crowley had been in the middle of grabbing another handful of food for the waterfowl from his pocket, when Aziraphale had grabbed hold of his scarf, the peas went scattering and his knees nearly buckled with the force at which the angel had pulled him down towards him. His golden eyes were wide, and able to be seen over the top of his sunglasses. Aziraphale didn't sound too cross with him, but he knew he wasn't being facetious. " Whoa, easy, angel- Easy. I know that I'm purposely trying to rile you up. But-What children have you ever seen out during this hour? They're meant to be in bloody school, aren't they? "

Aziraphale's expression shifted to one of deep thought, so Crowley was right after all! It wasn't the weekend, all of the children would still be finishing up their studies, and they would be out before tea time. It was barely twenty past noon, they wouldn't see any children at all. He tightened his grip on the scarf, making it so their noses actually touched. " Right you are, my dear. But that does not change the fact, the discussion is far from over. " He arched his brow when Crowley started to squirm, and attempt to frantically look down between them.

" Darling, whatever are you trying to do? Oh! Oh dear, was I pulling too harshly? I'm so sorry, my pet. " Aziraphale's first immediate thought was to head straight into panic mode, he carefully unwinds his hand from Crowley's scarf and the demon is able to stand up straight again.

" Ssss not you, angel- Wasn't even that tight of a grip. " Crowley replies back to Aziraphale, as he is finally able to get a proper look between the two of them. His golden eyes widened to their fully serpentine look, not a spot of white visible, even though they were hidden behind his shades.

#rich the idiot talks #good omens #good omens fanfiction #current wip #this is just before/when the child suddenly appears

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mlynar-nearl · 1 year

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omg !!!! hi ty for the detailed response 😭😭😭😭 i love all the mini little petty facts like god !!!! i love learning about ocs !!!!! he likes birds, hes petty and buys ancient iberian cookies to spite andoain pls he sounds like a fun character pls i cannot express myself but !!!!!! i am immensely pleased !!!! thank u sm </3

and yes ofc u did amazing in ur essay ! you dont just try you do it very amazingly !!! (www sorry im kind of just feelings rn i love the reply!! im hyped!! idk what to say!!) this is a lot of exclamation marks i apologize as well and tysm i love the detailed ans of his kit as well 🥰🥰 ur a wonderful being i love u and ur ocs and tysm aaaaa idk what to say

do u have any more ocs ? or do u have a storyline set for shealtiel? (im so sorry learning abt other ppls ocs make me all fuzzy im sorry ;-;) like ocs in ak are a thing ive never actually thought about so now that ive heard abt urs im just ! hell yeah! iw to know more ! so thank u for indulging me !

yes of course!! i love answering questions like i said i have lots of thoughts, head full and Such. especially about my ocs and mlynar because he's blorbo from my games. god i woke up today and i'm counting down the events til he's Here and i Have Him.

i do have a couple more arknights ocs (i have ocs in other things lol but. arknights is the focus.) they're less developed outright than shealtiel.

i'm leaving shealtiel's story where it is for the moment until we have an update on what andoain is doing, then i'll probably tweak it to move with that. i do think that he's not going to get what he wants, because i don't think he's going to get to help kill andoain given how arknights handles characters like ando, but he's going to be better off for not getting it.

as for my other ocs, i have my doctor, who is in stasis because i don't like being wildly wrong about lore. but the sparknotes is that their name is taki, they're divorced from kal'tsit, they're four foot nine and their abilities include seeing branching timelines from their decisions, which is responsible for their tactics. the Doctor Visor helps them filter it all out, which is why they rarely take it off in actual situations or important (plot-relevant) conversations. however, it was made before the sarcophagus, so it's a little loose and it falls down a bit sometimes. for now they're a fennec vulpo because i love fennec foxes. i realize this makes two of my arknights characters vulpos, but this is unsurprising, because foxes are part of my Brand.

second fox is a self-indulgent one. audr "audie" fuchsfrost is arctic fox + from a minor family in kjerag. i made him because i think silverash is hot and i wanted to make an ocship about it. bottom text. audie seems very unassuming and cute and sociable, but he also has a pragmatic side that keeps encio guessing and is always a pleasant surprise for audie's partner. arranged marriage to actual lovers because they realize they have a lot in common. i said this was self-indulgent, didn't i. "this is my husband, enciodes, and this is his boyfriend, gnosis."

last one is still in the oven, but i've been working on a kazimierz bounty hunter's guild oc, a banshee sarkaz called enka or "howl". she grew up with the guild. has vocal Arts. is an absolute raccoon of a woman. i think they found her in the garbage. i've kind of been marinating on her the last couple of days but she's the newest addition, so, there's not too much there yet.

#anonymous #ash answers #maybe i should do tags for these guys as well. hoogh #oc: audie #oc: enka #oc: taki #shealtiel

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tin-can-iron-man · 1 year

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I posted 984 times in 2022

That's 656 more posts than 2021!

101 posts created (10%)

883 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-faultofdaedalus

@notanarutoblogs

@tony-stark-ing

@bobbimorses

@tratshka

I tagged 744 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#tin-can-answers - 23 posts

#them - 18 posts

#victor von doom - 18 posts

#yeah - 14 posts

#him - 12 posts

#doctor doom - 10 posts

#tony stark - 8 posts

#iron man - 7 posts

#doomtony - 5 posts

#victor - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#victor: also i'm so fucking sorry it tried to marry you i want you to know that was it's own issues i didn't come to that conclusion at all

My Top Posts in 2022:

113 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

I always find the reaction between MCU Wanda and 616 Wanda in universe to be so interesting because 616 Wanda is a hero who is condemned for falling to her emotions and reacting to trauma poorly but MCU Wanda is still declared a hero, in universe, and is literally treated as "baby girl who can do no wrong" by literally every superhero that meets her. I just find it so interestingly fucked up that 616 doesn't get to be excused the same way MCU does in any regard, including in universe. When she has tried 10,000 times harder than Wendy ever has.

Edit: hey this post was made before MoM and I'm specifically talking about the difference between COMIC Wanda (the REAL 616) and MCU (aka earth 199999 (DESPITE what the movies may tell you)). Because I know people are now going to be confused for a hot sec.

124 notes - Posted April 15, 2022

Anyway Im3 was fucking right in not having the mandarin be the legit villain of the film because it was 2013 and having Tony Stark, a rich white American billionaire, have his biggest enemy at the end of his trilogy be "Asia all along" sucks ass. im1 and im2 had asian enemies in it (the "ten rings" in Afghanistan and Vanko, respectively) but they were ultimately about rich people (and usually rich white people) being terrible. Which, in my opinion, was the better option.

In im1 and im2, the main antagonists that pull the plot along are other rich white billionaires who throw money at their problem (Tony) with unethical rich person means. (Hammer hires Vanko with the intention of using him as a way to get to Tony because he's petty as well as using him to further his own military business by selling Vankos inventions under his name) (Stane makes shady deals and puts Tony's weapons up on the black market (which, by the way, what happened to Wanda and Pietro was either a result of Stane's shady deals that Tony was unaware of (Tony was also almost blown up by a Stark branded missile! That he DEFINITELY did not sell! He made the arc reactor so that the shrapnel in his heart wouldn't tear it to shreds!), or US military shittyness, something that Tony was uneducated on, learned about, and immediately, as in literally the second he could, when he was literally supposed to still be in a wheelchair, called a in-person press conference and shut down his weapons program, and immediately became one of the most anti-military characters in the MCU (like in the avengers, when he got real angry about being referred to as soldiers).

Killian isn't a good character, he's doesn't have a particular compelling origin story and wasting the foundation of AIM in the MCU on him sucks. Yes. But he's the last in the list of Iron Man villains that make sense in terms of Tony's personal turning over a new leaf. Stane and Hammer (and Vanko to a degree) are exaggerated versions of Tony's own personal flaws, the things he has to keep in check about HIMSELF. And in that sense, Killian is too. Killian is, if looking in a mirror, an exaggerated version of Tony's desire to be acknowledged and accepted by the people he loves, not being able to take rejection well, and being a risk taker, blown out of proportion. (Tony does deeply crave the affection of those he loves but he doesn't think he naturally deserves it. And while he can be reckless it typically starts and ends with himself. The very last thing Tony would do is, say, start human experimentation (on anyone besides himself) on something known to be dangerous). Killian is impulsive, vindictive, dismissive, self-centered and incapable of reflecting on himself in a meaningful way (basically just any "nice guy" guy on Twitter). He got so butthurt about a single night he dedicated the rest of his life to trying to get back at Tony about it (REAL big "nice guy" on Twitter vibes). He's not well written, he's not even that fun. What makes him interesting, though, is that Tony was kinda all of those things too. (Before his time spent with Yinsen, before Iron Man, before the Avengers).

Tony has never been as bad a Stane, or Hammer, or Killian. But thematically their characters are all "this bad thing about Tony pre-Afghanistan taken 12 steps further."

I don't know I'm just saying in my opinion I think it was better for Tony's main villains to be exaggerated caricatures of himself over using the Mandarin. And that they were right to save a character like the real Mandarin for Shang-Chi where they could be explored and used narratively in a proper manner.

138 notes - Posted April 12, 2022

Not too get into it unprompted but I have a theory from the Quintin Reviews Victorious Videos and Yvette Nicole Brown's acting career that I now completely believe that Community takes place within the boundaries of the NSU

224 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I feel like most of us can relate to this at this point

436 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #The fact me and Rowan reblogged the most from eachother....peak romance #Also almost all of my top 5 was bitching about the MCU good for me #Also yeah everyone go read FF (2011)#Also couldn't tell you for the life of me the context around that longest tag like I'm sure I know but brain no worky rn

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abronzeagegod · 1 year

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I posted 9,220 times in 2022

That's 691 more posts than 2021!

19 posts created (0%)

9,201 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@spudking

@niverly

@kittymannequin

@embersandauroras

@kelp-kelp

I tagged 645 of my posts in 2022

#this is a reference tag - 72 posts

#dnd - 64 posts

#bloodborne - 42 posts

#my fiction - 36 posts

#critical role - 32 posts

#leverage - 24 posts

#cr1 - 21 posts

#mass effect - 16 posts

#the mummy - 9 posts

#elden ring - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#a fuck up of a villain could be compelling because you'll never be able ot guess how they'll break everything in their failing and flailing

My Top Posts in 2022:

I'm working with a friend of mine to do a podcast. It's if Law and Order was set in the Sword Coast. DnD + True Crime podcast. Crime Fiction + Dungeons and Dragons.

Like how do you get away with murder if there are clerics that can simply cast Speak With Dead. Is it really murder if they can pay for a resurrection?

5 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

There are Supervillains and then there are villains. Any day of the week you'd love to be fighting a Supervillain. The flair, the drama, the setpieces were always so much better. Villains are just petty and terrible and in it for the money or the carnage or both.

You don't know how you got into this position, exactly, but this trio of villains had already done some truly heinous acts and then they tried to rob a bank, and not just stealing the money on hand, they wanted to loot safety deposit boxes where people kept personal valuables and documents, not large amounts of cash.

But here you are, sitting in some concrete rubble, head ringing. You've definitely broke some bones, and you're pretty sure that you have a lot less blood than when you started.

You feel like you should feel worse about being killed by these... thieves... but they already killed Justin so you'll be in good company. This villain advances on you with weapons drawn, teeth bared, and blood in their eyes.

If only this didn't feel so inevitable.

The spear that pinned the villain's arm to the wall was a surprise. Someone else approached you, but you couldn't recognize them before you blacked out.

When you wake up an amount of time later that is truly hard to judge, you're in a bed. Which is the second surprising thing, the first was that you woke up at all.

You're all bandaged up, you have some kind of cast over both of your legs and one arm. You feel good all things considered and only a moderate amount of pain.

"I put you on some serious painkillers. My own personal brand that does a very good job, keeps that floating feeling to a minimum, and isn't an opiate that is going to get you addicted and stuck in a spiral of human misery caused by corporate greed and intolerance," says a voice from somewhere beyond your periphery.

The gears started to click in your mind, but they weren't clicking fast enough.

"No hospital?" you manage to croak.

"The medical community is more interested in making profits than saving lives, and you're not the type to have insurance since they want too many invasive medical tests so I brought you to my inner sanctum, my keep and castle." You recognize the voice, and the speech patterns. There's something familiar about their almost rants and half-manifesto. "Sorry about the mask. But I couldn't preserve your anonymity on account of the grievous head injury."

You try to reach up to touch your face, your maskless face, and try to determine how bad it is, since you are covered in bandages. The pain immediately shoots along your nerves and settles into your brain right behind your eyes.

"I'd avoid moving as much as possible, if I were you," they say.

When your vision returns you find that they had stepped into your field of view.

They were an attractive person. Their dark hair looked like it was entirely too poofed and went all over the place, possibly in a "been under a hat or hood for too long" kind of way.

You know them.

"Doctor Terror," you mutter.

"All is fair and all that, couldn't let you be at all the disadvantages," they explain. "Besides I could only bring you to my home so wandering around in my tights would be something that I simply could not stand. So, we're all on equal footing."

"Why?"

"Well I couldn't let you die to those," they trail off trying to think of a succinctness way of phrasing it, "troglodytes. And I wasn't about to let my favorite hero die. So I did what any self-respecting supervillain would do when their things are being broken."

You try to respond but there was one of those terrible, white, shooting pains that cause it come out as a groan.

"Look, I promise you're not going to die or come to harm. I worked very hard to keep you alive, and that doesn't stop with eviscerating a few start up robbers. I will keep you alive here, safe, until you recover enough to attend to yourself. Then you can leave so we may do glorious battle sometime later."

You try to groan out a rejection, a denunciation, or something, but then you realize that you definitely broke several ribs.

"Rest. I'll be here when you wake."

"Why?"

The answer echoes in your dreams and in your final waking moments, "You're my hero. You're not allowed to die. We can't play if you're dead."

11 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

A very long podcast episode I wrote. DnD + Crime Fiction Procedural = Law and Order: Sword Coast. It's pretty good, but it's also a part 2 so make sure you listen to part 1 first.

13 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

I'm bad at making collages as you can see, but here are some A+++ super high quality faces from @artbytesslyn 's webtoon Facing the Sun which is very good and you should go read it.

33 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Facing the Sun is very good and you should read it

I'm putting off doing the writing I should be doing by doing something I haven't done in a long time, literary analysis. For Facing the Sun a very good the-apocalypse-is-happening-right-now story about a girl and her robot.

There will be spoilers, there will be pictures! Ye be warned!

First let's talk about genre because I'm not entirely convinced that @artbytesslyn isn't secretly writing some cosmic horror in this romance/drama. There are four main characters (I'd say five but we'll get to that) and they are almost all in different genres. Maryann and Grace, the moms, are in a family drama/sci-fi story as they navigate their difficult relationship and the relationship with their children while trying to do their best to save the world mid-apocalypse. Aarya is navigating a romance/drama with her love of the prototype L-001 (Liza) and all the drama and problems with that comes with it, and the different conflicting motivations of Maryann and Grace, along with her own trauma and guilt. Liza the poor android just obtaining sentience and learning what means to be alive is living in a romance/cosmic horror.

See the full post

54 notes - Posted October 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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nosferatufaggot · 1 month

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I'm sorry but I gotta put my own two sense into the Jojo Siwa shit. I prommy I'm not just being a hater for hater's sake. Most people are right now because Jojo is not a good person and this is an easy way to dunk on her. I just wanna be honest.

She keeps saying this is her Miley Cyrus era. When Miley did Wrecking Ball and went "wild" and completely changed her reputation from kid's creator to adult. The thing is though, it's not. Jojo had that a couple years ago. She already had her moment a couple years ago when she came out. Miley did what she did because Disney wouldn't separate it's branding from her success, so she forced them to. When Jojo came out, Nickelodeon distanced themselves from her, and her audience became slightly older. It's too late for this "adult" rebrand. She already made the transition, it just wasn't as mega dramatic as other celebrities she looks up to.

The other reason this failed is because of over promotion. I haven't seen people talking about my previous reason this failed, but people have been saying this one. She gave too much warning that she's gonna be baaaaaaad instead of just releasing it into the wild.

And now for the petty, but obvious. This is only here in hopes that people shut up about her controversies. They'll be too busy talking about how "wild" Jojo has gone instead of talking about all the other shit.

#Yeah. Sorry to throw my hat in the ring.#I just haven't seen people thinking about the failure of her rebrand from this aspect.#Aka from the fact that she already had this era that she's trying to do. Just in a less glamourous way.#She did this already but it was on accident. Now she's trying to do it on purpose but it's too late.#Okay.#Sentiments of a vampire.

0 notes

jasminesnmoonsnfeathers · 5 months

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Hello ! You probably clicked this link bc I just died.

Not tryna do a 13 reasons why bullshit LMAO but it kinda is. idc. I used this as a diary for years after Sama cheated. It helped me cope. There's a lot of sad and depressing stuff bc I only really posted when I was sad n depressed lol. So just saying there's a lot of dark stuff in here if u want to or dont want to proceed. But im sure out of curiosity u will anyways n I dont blame you.

Sorry in advance to my family who reads this.

Idc if this is embarrassing, shit I'm sure it'll even be entertaining. but maybe this will help someone feel less alone in their pain. And if it could help anyone realize that not everyone is your friend even if they act like it. And to always trust your gut. I suffered for years. Not just because of Sama although he plays a huge huge part, but because of Kiera and Gina and others (shit even kiera 21 year old gf, actually, all of them really) as well. Jen Sieminski is a recent one who made life harder for me. So when you see that they aren't at the funeral thats why.

This isn't to be petty either - I need to be honest about how these people affected me while I was alive because if I have ever hated anything, it's been the fact that so many people got away with hurting me. And if this is how I feel like I can get some sort of justice then I'm gonna do just that.

I don't want to point fingers and blame these people for my death. I'm not saying that. They worsened the already existing depression by doing foul shit to me which I'll get into in a separate post. I'm not trying to get people to hate on them either. There's no target response that I hope to achieve with this. I just want this out there for my own justice.

I don't want to die with hate in my heart and I'm not. Being a human is just complicated with complicated emotions. Trust me, I wish I could just move on and send them all love and light and forget everything but I would be doing myself a disservice. And it's only right that my death be associated with gossip. Very on brand for me. But really, I need to get all this out before I go so that my soul can genuinely Rest In Peace with nothing left unsaid and undone.

______

To the people who treated me nice while I was here - thank you genuinely and I will always remember you and watch over you. love you.

0 notes

separatist-apologist · 2 years

Note

will you share the plot of the regency Elucien AU? does it have a title?

I literally just sketched it out with @highladydawn this morning. I will tell you PART of what I landed with. And I've only written 1k words of it, so it has a long way to go. You can expect it to be set up like Dismantle. Repair where each chapter is 10k words. And right now I'm planning for 2 total parts but there is room to do 3. I want to make sure I'm wrapping up Exile and finishing Swallow the Sun, too. But I do love my fixations.

So it's basically this: Papa Archeron is dead and Nesta, upon going through the family accounts, realizes they are Broke capital B. The sisters convene. They can scrape together enough money for one dowry, at which point the ancient family estate because another mans problem.

They decide it'll be Feyre who weds. She brand new to the season and Nesta/Elain have been out for previous seasons. Feyre is fresh and they think Tamlin, a Baron, is interested. The three essentially pour everything they have into making Feyre marriagable.

MEANWHILE:

Lucien Vanserra is in fucking trouble. He SWORE to his mom he'd stop dueling (among other less savory pursuits) and he's caught again. His dad, the Duke of Dayton (HAHAHAHA this isnt even my worst pun), pulls all kinds of strings to keep Lucien from being arrested. Who is he dueling? Viscount Grayson. Why (you have to read to learn this)??

Mama Duchess is like, you said if I caught your dumbass pulling any more hijinks, you'd get married. So go get fucking married. And Lucien is like "okay" mom I will get "married". He has no intention of doing so. And when he meets Elain, he tells her as such and she's like, oh hey! me too!

Because I love to write idiots to lovers, the pair are like, lets FAKE court each other to get everyone else off our backs. Lucien especially likes this plan because Graysen wants Elain for himself and Lucien is a petty king.

I have my little sideplots, the bastard son of the Marquess of Blödshedd pursuing Nesta who is caught up in Eris Vanserra's shit (sorry but this is an anti-Neris zone), and the mysterious prince Rhysand from another unnamed country that takes an interest in Feyre.

#if youre the anon who requested it #does this work for you??#it will be smutty as well #like #SO SMUTTY #bridgerton WHO?#just kidding but im gonna try #untitled yet #but you know itll have a cheesy song representingi t

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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years

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It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

#maribat #marinette x damian #mlb x dc #batfam salt #batfam is concerned #Daminette #the aftermath of ‘Like I did with you’#everybody talks by neon trees #max kante has blackmail and will use it #Alix will bite if provoked #dc x mlb #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng is a meta?#supportive Dupain-Cheng parents ❤️

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sonicasura · 3 years

Text

Seriously Square Enix?

I was strolling through Youtube to look for something to watch and look what popped up in my recommended in less than two bloody seconds.

Seriously Square? Now only are you just confirming the absolute bullshit that you put Balan Wonderworld, Balan Company and Yuji Naka but the reason being your signature cash cow?!

If you guys don't know, I suggest you go to these links first then come back.

What the bloody f*ck is wrong with you? Are you scared that your popular emo boys, jibberish words and confusing drama was going to be overthrown by a colorful game for children?!

That's not even the worst part. I have a subscription for Gamespot and guess what?

You only see one thing for Balan Wonderworld and the rest is for bloody Final Fantasy.

To willfully destroy and sabotage a game, the FIRST GAME FOR A BRAND NEW SMALL COMPANY, and one of the genius minds behind freaking NIGHTS: INTO DREAMS AND SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, because you don't want anything to stand up to your prized franchise that should've died from how much ya milk from it like a dying cow?!

Congratulations! You made it at the top of my sh*t list. Are you actually scared that an innocent game made out of a man's dream and heartfelt inspiration was a threat to you? That it could wreck your entire empire of pretty traumatized to hell boys, usually bad plot and sorry excuse for game expansions?

Or that you have to be so greedy and squash what you don't deem necessary like a boot to anthill?

It's official. You guys have become the new EA and New Konami. I thought Bethesda or Blizzard would've got there but your pettiness beat them there.

To all my fellow writers and artists...

Normally a boycott would be the ample way to handle such piss poor management but I've got a better idea. Let's do what the Blizzard Fans did when Blizzard decided to do something stupid involving a particular Hearthstone Tournament, Free Hong Kong and Blitzchuung.

Let's use their pretty little Final Fantasy characters against them. Write some stories, make fanart and spread the word!

Draw Cloud Strife with a Fuck Square Enix shirt and a Go Balan Company Hat, put Sora in a Balan outfit, just go nuts and make sure these bloody pigs realize just how stupid they are being!

#Fuck Square Enix #Balan Company's Innocent

And the new one...

#Save Balan Wonderworld

Spread the word folks! Until next time guys!

#mun sonicasura #sonicasura #square enix sabotaged balan wonderworld #balan wonderworld #balan wonderland #fuck square enix #fucksquareenix #balan company's innocent #balan company #save balan wonderworld #final fantasy #square enix

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

main masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq

hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

#bun writes #bun writes: drabbles #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

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