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deceitfuldevil · 3 years

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Cosmic Glitch

Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader

Summary: You always believed your soulmate was somewhere out there and that one day you'd see color, but the day you met him you refused to accept it. (soulmate AU! where you can't see color until you first look into your soulmates eyes)

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing I think?, poorly written, clearly from my drafts, headcannon turned imagine, fluff <3

Word Count: 2.2K

You had always been close with Sam ever since you served in the Air Force together, you were always up for any mission or task he needed help with.

After everyone was blipped back you had lost your job, so when Sam called you up asking you to tag along on a mission and promised compensation you couldn't turn him down.

You met Sam and Bucky in the garage and when the infamous Helmut Zemo walked in you locked eyes with him, and a fit a color exploded before you.

Zemo had stopped mid sentence

“I really don’t think I’m—“

Your heart sank deep into your chest

“Oh no” you said barely above a whisper.

“I uh, I’m not useful to this operation” he finished, stumbling over his words. Which you'd learn later on was very uncharacteristic of him.

You just stared at him as he nodded at you, a quiet hello.

Your luck was just impeccable wasn’t it? Zemo? Helmet fucking Zemo? It had to be him? The man that tore apart the avengers and bombed the UN for Christ sake! He was a fucking criminal!

The plane ride to Madripoor was above all else, awkward.

You barely spoke, not even making eye contact with anyone unless directly spoken to.

“You alright Y/n?” Sam asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You only nodded a small yes, feeling your soulmates prying eyes burning holes into the sight of Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, such a pretty name. I love the way it rolls off the tongue. Y/n.” Zemo said, toying with the sound of your name on his lips. Flustering you, but angering Bucky.

“Cool it Zemo, she’s just a kid.” He warned. Causing Zemo to wave Bucky off with his hand as he took a sip of his warm champagne.

But Bucky was right, you were just a kid. Your soulmate, the Baron for Christ sake, had to be at least 20 some years older than you.

Why did fate set you up with a man that was an adult before you were even born? Didn’t he have a wife before the battle of Sokovia? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic glitch.

I mean, it had to be... right?

Of course you wouldn’t be able to shake the Baron so easily, especially not when you needed a secret cover to pose as in Madripoor

There was only one role for you to play being so new on the “superhero” scene that you were unknown and considering you didn’t look like a single high profile criminal out there.

The Barons fiancé. His schatzi.

Obviously, you couldn’t just show up to a bar in low town in your suit either, so Zemo being ostentatious man that he is came prepared in the worst way possible.

You closed the door to first class and zipped open the black dress bag that Zemo handed you, telling you it would fit well with the part you were due to play.

A very short velvety plum dress sat in front of your color bound eyes. Ridiculously tall heels to match.

It was never something you’d wear out, you’d never have the confidence to wear such a short and expensive dress out to a bar of all places. But the material felt so good and with the new blessing of colored sight almost made you satisfied with outfit presented.

But you walked out fully dressed and maintained your attitude.

“Who am I supposed to be? A high-end hooker?” You quipped, trying to pull the hem of the dress down as far as it would go.

“You, schatzi, will be playing the part of my fiancé.” Zemo said simply. Fixing the cufflink on his left arm.

You stood there awestruck at what he had just said to you. It was hard enough for you to try and ignore that he was your soulmate but now you had to play the part?

“Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said, digging into his pocket and flicking a ring at you. You caught it, examining it and gasping softly. You had never seen a diamond so big.

You slipped it on your finger, it fit perfectly. Which, made you smile to yourself in a way you knew you shouldn’t have.

He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. You continually repeated to yourself the whole ride to low town, allowing yourself to think for even a second that just because he was your soulmate meant that he was a good person was not in the books. You simply couldn’t do it.

But as you arrived in the deeper part of Madripoor Zemo informed everyone that they must play their role to a T, because their lives depended on it.

As the car stopped Zemo walked around the side and opened the door for you, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hand as you stood upright.

You eyes trailed up to his as a blush became evident on your face, when you locked eyes, boom, another shockwave of color screamed into your eyes. You saw the detailing in his fur collar, the bright neon signage all around, the gold detailing in Bucky’s vibraium arm, all of it.

You wanted to see color forever, you hated knowing that if you went without seeing Zemo for too long, the color would fade out.

In ordeal at the bar came and went, the business with Selby is where things got interesting and simultaneously made you nervous.

For some reason it’s almost as if Zemo could sense this because he squeezed your hand tightly and you both sat down on the couch across from Selby.

After everyone else had either been introduced or acknowledged, all that was left was you.

“And who’s this pretty little thing you’ve got yourself here Zemo?” Selby asked, clearing prodding knowing he’d been married before.

“This...” he trailed off, grabbing your left hand to show off the ring “is my beautiful fiancé” he finished

“Oh, got yourself a little trophy wife after the other one kicked the can huh?" She added, staring down the large rock sitting on your finger.

“That’s very sweet of you to think, but this one here is my soulmate. The first woman to ever make me see in color.” Zemo said, his words so sweet honey might as well as been dripping off his tongue. His gaze turned to you, boom, another bright flash of color that made a shiver run down your spine.

“Oh how sweet, but I don’t believe it.” Selby said with a grin, Sam and Bucky tensed up slightly. Siding with Selby because they too didn’t believe Zemo when he referred to you as his soulmate.

“Test me.” You challenged, stupidly if I may add.

“Excuse me?” Selby asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you

“If you don’t believe we’re soulmates, test me. I can name any color you’d like.” You continued, a part of you always looking for a challenge, the other part also wanting to test yourself see if maybe this whole color thing was faulty or one-ended.

“Fine, we’ll start easy. What’s the color of that slutty dress you’ve got on?” She asked, angry that you challenged her

“Easy, the same color as my soulmates turtle neck. A deep purple, plum if you will.” You said carefully caressing the material of Zemo’s shirt

“You could’ve been told that before you arrived, what about my lipstick?” She pressed as she pursed her lips out

“A cheap magenta” you deadpanned, done with her games. She scoffed at you.

“And this couch?” She asked grinning, patting the cushion beside her.

“Trick question. It’s a old a dirty worn out pattern, it has no specific color” you said with a fake smile, Zemo’s hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you a little closer.

The room fell silent just long enough for things to feel awkward before Selby started laughing uncontrollably.

“Well Baron, the universe certainly has picked you a handful! Now what business did you want to do with me again?” And just like that, it was over and you were suddenly running from bounty hunters on the streets.

When Sharon rescued the four of you the ride up to her place in high town was painfully silent. Zemo kept a firm hand on your thigh. Bucky stared off into space ashamed of how easily he fell back into form, and Sam sat on his thoughts wondering if you and Zemo were really soulmates.

No one really spoke to each other, just different conversations with Sharon. After what went down at the Bar and then with Selby... a mood was set, things had changed.

When Zemo stood up and announced he wanted to go join the party and made his way towards the exit you told Bucky you’d keep on eye on him. Sam wanted to protest but at that point you both were already out the door.

You sat from afar watching Zemo on the floor of the club horribly attempting to dance along with the rest of the party-goers. When you laughed a little to yourself he looked up at you, boom, that beautiful shock of color again. It never got old.

But you quickly averted your eyes and disappeared from his gaze as you went to the bar for a drink. When the bartender slid your drink over suddenly Zemo was at your side announcing he’d pay for it.

Zemo started to snake his hand around your waist once more but this time you smacked his hand away

“We’re not playing house anymore, Baron.” You told him, using his formal title.

“But you see what I see, do you not?” He asked, tentatively reaching for your hand.

“See what?” You asked, avoiding his burning gaze. You knew damn well what he was taking about but refused to admit to even yourself. He was a horrible man, a criminal, a rich psychopath! It ached your heart that someone with such a shitty past was who you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.

“The beautiful colors. I see your bright eyes, your sleek hair, those sweet pink lips. Now color is all around me too, I can see the colors of the club. I see the blue radiating off that light, the red in this drink you ordered, the green that lady’s hair! You love opened my eyes, Y/n. With you, I can see.” Zemo pressed on, smiling as he looked in awe at all the colors around him. He placed his hand gently over yours. You flinched but didn’t move away from his touch

“But this has to be wrong. I can’t be the person for you. You had a wife and kids right? Didn’t they bring any color into your life?” You asked, feeling a warm heat rise to your cheeks from the small contact you two were now sharing

“I loved my wife and son sure, but they were always grey to me. Remember that I’m a Baron, when you’re royalty your marriage options aren’t as wide as the universe has set for you.” He pointed out, taking your hand and slowly rubbing your knuckles.

“Still surely this has to be some kind of universal glitch! I mean you’re what? 20 some years older than me? What about all the horrible shit you’ve done? You’re a criminal! I was made to be a hero! We don’t mix, let alone fall in love!” You babbled on

“Listen, y/n. I am not proud of my past, I was a grief stricken man who had just lost his wife and child along with his entire country. I was only doing what I believed to be right at the moment, is that not what you try to do as well?” He asked, trying to find similarities between the two of you. Some common ground.

“Zemo I—“ you started, turning to face him and looking into his hazel brown eyes again and feeling that boom of color that would never get old, but did make you lose your train of thought.

“Zemo I’m scared” you finished off, your planned statement turning into a confession. You didn’t take your eyes off his this time as he stared back down at you. Bring his free hand to your cheek he smiled softly.

“I’m scared too, schatzi. But the feeling you give me makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Stay with me, ride this out and see where it goes. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, sport cars, you name it and I’ll buy it for you. I’ll fly you any place you’ve ever wanted to go, show you every sight you’ll ever need to see.” He tools breathe, a single tear slipping down his face.

“Please, let’s give this a shot.” He ended. Nine years with losing your wife, child, country, and being imprisoned for a few years really changed a man; and made him that much more desperate for someone like you, his soulmate, to stay.

And stay you did. The first year was rocky wrapping things up with the super soldiers on the loose and clearing Zemo’s name in the eyes of the Power Broker and the UN. Based on his efforts to take down the last of the super soldiers and good words from Sam and Bucky his sentence was reduced to one year under house arrest, which made for a great way to get to know each other better.

The years after that were far beyond smooth sailing, they were dare you even say perfect. You traveled the world with Zemo, lived the most lavish life, saw the most amazing things.

All in color.

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heyyyharry · 3 years

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Deep End - Chapter 12: Dirty Dreams

…in which Harry and Ezi kiss again…and again…and again… (THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT)

Word count: 4.6k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

Harry didn’t understand dreams. How did dreams even work? Because sometimes he would see someone he hadn’t seen in years in his dreams, even though he had completely forgotten about the person’s existence up to that point. Then there were these super violent and bloody dreams that woke him in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Then, there were some other more inappropriate dreams that made him so disappointed when the alarm rang.

Listen, Harry wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t think about sex 24/7; well, not usually. But lately, he’d been having dirty dreams more often than he would enjoy. He would wake up with his dick rock hard and end up late for work because he had to stroke one out in the shower. And he blamed it on…

“Ezi! Where are your pants? And why are you wearing my shirt?”

Ezi stopped in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice cream in one hand, the other holding a spoon in her mouth. “This is my new ‘at home’ look,” she said, while leaning against the door in nothing but his button-up shirt that fell just past her bum. As if the sight wasn’t torturing enough, she had to be licking ice cream from the fucking spoon. It was eight in the fucking morning! And Harry would not go back to the bathroom to wank again.

“But where are your shirts? Why don’t you wear them?” he asked and slipped past her into the kitchen. He would make himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t have to watch her being effortlessly sexy in the kitchen doorway.

“They said on the internet that you should borrow your boyfriend’s shirt, and you’re my fake boyfriend.”

“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled.

She gave him a shy smile and left without saying another word. That was the longest conversation they’d had since that night she went out on a date with Dawson. Ezi was always a little bit weird. Okay, well, very weird. But her weirdness had been different lately, in a bad way. She was still doing weird things, but keeping a distance from him.

Harry knew he couldn’t really complain, since he’d specifically told her to her face that he preferred it when it was just him and the cat. Having his own space had been nice for a day or two, then he’d started missing how annoying she’d been. And of course, he blamed this all on Dawson.

Harry had been second to Dawson his whole life. Ever since he’d been a kid and found out that he’d had a cousin, Dawson had been nothing but a burden for Harry. Harry was the only child, but to his parents, Dawson had been their favourite son. His father used to love sports, but Harry had never been a fan of those. Dawson, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school’s football team and was excellent at marathons as well. So if Harry’s father was still alive, Dawson would be the one making him proud by taking over the family business Harry didn’t want.

Now, just as Harry had finally gained his own spotlight as a singer, becoming great at something Dawson wasn’t good at, Dawson swept in and stole Ezi.

Harry had spent a lot of time wondering why it had mattered so much to him that Ezi had gone on one date with his cousin. He didn’t even like her like that, and the house was always peaceful without her, which he enjoyed very much. But why did the idea of her becoming something with Dawson bother him so much? He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of days. Not to mention that Ezi had started keeping distance from him. Well, he’d done it first because of the kiss, but it was weird when she did it because she had always been so fucking clingy. And he’d hated that. Until now!

Ding dong!

“What do you want?” Harry asked in the least annoyed tone he could pull off, while fighting the urge to slam the door in Dawson’s good-looking face.

“Is Ezi home?” Dawson asked.

“Ezi? You mean Ezili? Because I’m the only one who calls her Ezi.”

“Y-Yeah, Ezili,” Dawson said with an awkward smile. This guy was a tool. What did Ezi see in him?

“No, she’s at work,” Harry said, and quickly added, “but don’t think about going there. They’re having a book club meeting; she’d be mad if you showed up and distracted her.”

That was a lie. Harry didn’t even know if people actually hosted book club meetings at random book shops, but did it matter? If he was going to be petty, he must go all the way.

“What do you wanna meet her for?” he asked before Dawson could leave. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with Dawson about Ezi, but it was the only way to learn more about their date. “Did you do something that you wanna apologise for?”

“No. Of course not,” Dawson chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “She bought some books and forgot them in my car.”

“I could give them to her when she gets back from work,” Harry said.

Dawson looked hesitant. “Well, she told me not to give them to you.”

“Oh.” Harry kept a straight face, but he was very offended that she’d made that request. Did she really hate him so much for what he’d said that night?

“So,” he ventured, averting his eyes. “Guess the date went well?”

“I suppose,” Dawson said.

Harry had hoped for a different response. This one didn’t really hurt him but it didn’t make him happy, either. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “So are you looking forward to the second date?”

“I don’t think there’s gonna be one,” Dawson said, to Harry’s surprise. “I don’t think she likes me like that?”

Okay, this was the response Harry had been waiting for. He tried to suppress a grin as he patted his cousin’s shoulder sympathetically, while he was far from sympathetic. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic. I know she’s a bit out of your league, but dare to dream a little.”

“Very funny,” Dawson snorted and brushed off Harry’s hand. “But I think she has a crush on you.”

“Really? I mean, no!” Harry faked a laugh, crossing his arm and leaning against the door in an unnatural pose. “No way.” Now he sounded like a commercial guy who had never attended a single acting class. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t have a crush on me,” he stuttered. “W-Why do you think so?”

Dawson pressed his lips into an understanding smile that made Harry’s face grow red. “All she talked about for the entire night was you.”

Harry thought Dawson was just teasing him at first. Then he remembered that this was Dawson, not him. So it was true. Ezi had talked about him for the whole night when she was with Dawson.

“What did she say?” Harry asked, trying to seem more curious than excited.

“She told me you were a good cook, and then complained about your bad habits. Then it was all ‘Harry said that’ and ‘Harry said this’. It seemed like she was really into you.”

“Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged, trying to act cool and all that. “I’m just surprised. I thought she hated me.”

“I mean, she can still hate you if she has a crush on you,” said Dawson. “Also, why is she staying with you? Where’s her family?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you ask her?”

“She kept mentioning her mother but nothing more than that, and she’d just change the subject whenever I tried to ask.”

Harry didn’t have enough time to think of a lie, so he blurted, “Her family was abusive.”

Dawson looked horrified, but he completely bought that. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “She’s a lovely girl, though. I know that you don’t like her, but don’t break her heart. Turn her down nicely.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You don’t like Ezili, right?” Dawson asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughed, uneasily. “I mean no, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t wanna be in a relationship.”

Harry didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things. He guessed most people would just assume he had no heart because it was easier for them to make sense of why he wouldn’t settle down. In reality it was more complicated than that. He had had feelings for some people in the past, and he’d shut them down before he got to the point of no return. Ezi might be a dangerous creature, but he’d probably hurt more people than she had, mostly himself.

So did he like Ezi? Yes. He’d just realised that when his heart blossomed to the thought of her thinking about him on a date with his cousin. There was no denying that, as he only felt this way about his own songs. But was he happy about it? Well, yeah, of course he was happy about it. He was over the moon even. Still, that didn’t mean he should do something about it. He would just keep it to himself and wait–No, hope for it to pass.

Later that night, when Ezi came home from work, she went straight into the kitchen to eat from the fridge, and Harry came downstairs to find her sitting on the floor, munching off a sandwich in the fridge light glow. He watched her for a moment from the door before deciding to break the silence.

She flinched when hearing her name. She turned around, sandwich still in her mouth. “Did Dawson stop by?” she asked. “He said he would bring me my books.”

“Yeah, he did. I put them in your room,” Harry said, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the mention of his cousin. But then he remembered what Dawson had told him and came to sit beside her on the floor.

She ignored him and continued eating. She looked nothing like someone who had a crush on him, so what if Dawson had lied to him? He had never heard a lie from Dawson, but it didn’t mean Dawson was incapable of lying.

“Ezi, I wanna ask you something,” he said.

She finished her sandwich and reached into the fridge of ice cream. “Go ahead,” she said.

Harry started fidgeting with his shirt. “Why won’t you tell me about that date with Dawson?”

Ezi didn’t look at him as she said, “Do I have to tell you? It was personal.”

“Well, your sister was there,” he reasoned, “and she’s tried to kill me several times so I think I deserve to know some details about that night.”

Yes, Harry was curious about Ezi’s sister as well, but was it bad to say that he wanted to know more about what Ezi thought of him? Was it bad that Ezi’s feelings for him mattered more than his stupid life?

“My sister wasn’t there the whole time,” Ezi sighed and dipped her spoon into the ice cream. “I got rid of her at the fair then went for dinner with Dawson.”

“Oh,” Harry said, watching her intently as she ate. “So—”

“My sister wanted me to go back home.”

Harry froze. “Why?” he blurted, suddenly anxious. “I mean…does your mother want you back? Not that I think she won’t ever want you back—”

“No.” Ezi rolled her eyes. “My sister wants me to go back in return of the throne, so she can be Queen and allow me back into the Queendom.”

“But you wanna Queen?”

“I’m going to be Queen!” Ezi snapped. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, she softened her voice, “I’m the firstborn. I’m going to be Queen. I have a year to…” Her voice trailed off and she spaced out for a second.

“To what?”

Ezi pressed her lips into a tight smile then said, “To stay here. My sister told me that my mother would take me back in a year.”

“That’s the punishment?” Harry chuckled. “Make you stay in this world where a handsome man takes care of you and buys you stuff?” Maybe siren mums weren’t as bad as he’d thought.

“And also bullies me 24/7,” Ezi said.

“Hey!” Harry put up his hands. “You bully me, too.”

“You literally told me you didn’t want to see me around the house.”

“Yeah, well, I like seeing you around the house now.”

“Liar,” Ezi said and took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Harry tried not to pay attention to the way she licked the spoon or think about licking ice cream from her lips, but he knew he was going to see a lot of that in his dreams tonight.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ezi held his gaze for two seconds, squinting her eyes. “Fine,” she said at last. “I forgive you.”

“Well, that was easy.”

“For now,” she added, putting the ice cream back into the fridge. “I’ll hate you again when I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry eighty percent of the time!”

“Yeah.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her amber to the kitchen door. Clenching his fingers, he asked, “When’s your birthday?”

Ezi turned her head. “March 12. Why?”

“So I can say happy birthday to you on March 12.”

“Oh, thanks. Not looking forward to it, though.”

“Also,” Harry said fast before she left. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Niall had just reached one million followers on TikTok, so he’d thrown a huge party at his mansion and invited his friends who had brought their friends and their friends’ friends. So the most influential people in the entertainment industry were at the party tonight.

Jeff had suggested that Harry bring Ezi so they could do some PDA stuff at the party to make headlines for the next few days. At first, Harry had planned to make up some excuses so he could go alone.

He and Ezi hadn’t kissed since that day in his mother’s closet. Well, actually, they had had a few pecks on the lips in public, but it’d only been for the paparazzi. It was hard to think about romance when there were at least ten cameras pointing at you.

Their first kiss, however, had been real and…hot. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know how Ezi felt since she never talked about it, but he had the impression that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. He couldn’t stop thinking about her flushed cheeks and plum lips as she pulled back, confused yet wanting more. In his dreams last night, they had been in that closet, but their clothes had been discarded, and he’d been pounding her against the wall. It was so hot. He’d had to wank twice when he woke up and he couldn’t make eye contact with Ezi in the kitchen during breakfast. Now he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.

“Harry.”

Harry jumped when his name was called. Ezi gave him a questioning look. She was wearing a little pink strap dress and her hair was in a high bun. She looked so cute tonight; his stylist had done a great job.

“You okay?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his. He knew it didn’t mean anything and she was only doing what Jeff had told her to. But he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from acting up. “It seemed like your soul left your body for a second.”

“Sorry, this loud music gives me a headache,” he said and finished his glass of wine. Ezi didn’t drink. “You wanna dance?”

Her gaze shot up in surprise. “Do you wanna dance?”

“What do you mean? I’m a fantastic dance partner.”

“But I’ve never danced before. I just got these legs a few weeks ago.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be good at it, I’m sure. We’ll wait for a slow song.”

Niall walked by just in time to overhear the conversation, so he shouted, “Slow song for my besties Harry and Ezili!”

Harry tried to stop Niall, but it was too late. Everyone in Niall’s living room was staring at him and Ezi. Jeff would be happy about this, but Harry didn’t think Ezi was. Her fingers tightened around his as she stepped closer, apparently uncomfortable with the intrusive glances they were receiving.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll show them how great we are.”

“But I’m not—”

He didn’t let her finish and drag her out on the dance floor. There were a few couples slow-dancing around them, but Harry knew he and Ezi were the attention of tonight. In these people’s eyes, they were in love, completely infatuated with each other.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered in Ezi's ear while fixing her posture. “It’s easy.”

For a human who had been to too many of these dances, it was. But Ezi was barely good at walking. And so she ended up stepping on his feet repeatedly. The giggles of some women in the room made her even more anxious, so she almost stopped. But he reassured her by pulling her closer and lifting her chin so she was looking at him instead of them.

“Don’t be nervous. This is your little mermaid moment. Embrace it,” he said, making her smile.

“Ariel was a terrible dancer.”

“True. But she looked pretty stepping on the Prince’s feet.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow, amused. “Are you calling yourself the Prince?”

“I almost got casted for the role of Eric, by the way.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.

He acted offended. “No, it’s real.”

“As real as Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus is real,” Harry argued. “Not you saying he isn’t when you’re literally a mythical creature.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled.

“Make me,” he replied.

Harry didn’t know who had initiated it. Maybe they had both leaned in at the same time. But this time as they shared a kiss in a crowded room, it felt like they were all alone in his mother’s closet once again. Of course he had to keep his hands respectfully on her lower back, but the kiss was still hot. He could feel himself being unravelled right there on the dance floor, and he liked the way her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his neck as they melted into one. But then people had to ruin the moment for them by filming it. Jeff would be happy; Harry wasn’t.

He had developed a special talent over the years as a celebrity and could always sense when someone was taking pictures of him. It made him uneasy and distracted, so he had to pull back. He supposed his twisted expression might have given Ezi the wrong idea. She thought it was her that made him uncomfortable. And for some stupid reason, Harry let her think that.

They left the party early because Ezi didn’t seem to enjoy it anymore. On the drive home, Harry tried to find a way to apologise for ruining the moment, but he didn’t know how to not make it awkward. She didn’t say a single word to him in the car, and he knew she wasn’t going to unless he started the conversation. But then he didn’t. And so she went to bed angry at him.

Harry felt really bad about it. He knew it wouldn’t be this way if he had communicated like a normal human being. But it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d enjoyed kissing her, and he would’ve made out with her in front of all those people had it not been for who he was. He had wanted that moment to be real, but then he remembered it wasn’t, and he felt like he was taking advantage of her.

Maybe she felt that way, too. He wasn’t sure. Or she was just tired and didn’t really care about the kiss, and he was the one making a fuss out of it because he assumed he meant more to her than he really did. Again, Dawson could’ve lied. Ezi might not even have feelings for him. She might think he was a bad kisser even.

As Harry fell asleep that night, he dreamed about her again. They were alone in Niall’s mansion. The music was playing as they slow-danced but nobody was watching. She started kissing him, and he kissed her back. His hands reached around her to unzip her little pink dress and let it pool around her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was rock hard when they went in for more kissing. Her tongue slid between his lips, her hands reaching for his belt as he fumbled on the buttons of his own shirt. Then he woke up with a tent on his crotch. It was three in the fucking morning, and he was having the worst erection in his life.

Harry slipped his hand under the duvet and started playing with it to relieve some tension, but just as he was about to cum, he heard a loud crash downstairs. Instant boner killer.

“Ezi!” he shouted in frustration, slipped on his boxers and marched out of the room.

“I’m sorry!” Ezi’s voice echoed from downstairs. Harry groaned and headed down to the kitchen where he found her collecting broken pieces of a vase she’d knocked over.

“Just leave it,” he said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up and away from the glass. “You’d hurt yourself, idiot.”

“I’m sorry. It was dark. I couldn’t see.”

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”

She shrugged, which made him laugh, because that was very Ezi of her. “You’re a dumbass,” he said.

“I’m not,” she pouted.

“You are. This only happens to dumbasses.”

“Gosh, you’re an asshole,” she mumbled, arms crossed. She was standing with her back to the counter, and he was blocking her way from the door. Of course she could always sidestep him to leave, but instead, she stayed there, just awkwardly chewing on her nail. She was wearing nothing but a loose white shirt of his. And this time, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

“I’m not even looking at you,” he said, yet staring right at her face.

“You are.”

“How would you know? Unless you’re also looking at me.”

“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“No, you—” Ezi’s voice cut off; her gaze dropped to his mouth as if she hadn’t realised how close they were until now. Harry knew that look so well, and usually it would be a sign for him to make a move. But this was Ezi.

“I should go back to bed,” she said, eyes meeting his again.

He nodded, but didn’t get out of the way.

Again, he didn’t know who leaned in first. The moment their mouths collided, all his thoughts evaporated; his walls crumbled, and he was powerless, unable to pull back. There was a kind of power in the way she kissed that he could not resist. He was all hers.

He tightened his arms around her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto the counter. He could feel his erection growing again in his pants. It didn’t take too long for it to turn fully hard, and she obviously felt it, so she pulled back from their kiss, panting. “It’s…”

“Ignore it,” he breathed, kissing her again, making his way down to her neck and chest. She was squirming now, and he wondered if she was also feeling things down there. “Are you wet?” he asked breathlessly against her lips.

She blinked, confused. “No, I’m dry.”

“No, Ezi,” Harry chuckled, face buried in her neck. “I mean, are you wet between your legs?”

“Oh.” She licked her perfect lips and nodded once. “Yeah. Like most of the time.”

Harry’s whole body went stiff. “What?”

“Like...whenever I think of us kissing,” Ezi admitted innocently.

Harry didn’t know which was hotter. The fact that they were both half-naked and horny right now, or the fact that she got turned on just from thinking of kissing him.

“What do you usually do when it happens?” he asked, adding soft kisses to her lips.

Her fists tightened on his back, her eyelids fluttering. “I r-rub my thighs together.”

Harry smiled as his cock twitched to the thought of it. “Does that feel good?”

Ezi nodded.

“Want me to help you feel even better?”

“You can?”

Harry nodded. He knew it wasn’t right to have sex with her when she didn’t even know what it was, so he wouldn’t rush it. He was just going to help her.

He kissed her once more and got down on his knees between her legs. She looked so hot all spread out in front of him with just his shirt and panties on. She wasn’t lying when she said she was wet. Her panties were completely soaked as he slid them off. She shivered a little yet didn’t protest. She wanted him to help.

He started by kissing her inner thigh. She had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He could just cum to the thought of licking her, and he swore he almost did when he took the first try. Her hips jolted, and he glanced up to meet her confused stare.

“If you want me to stop, just say it, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, biting her nail.

He held her eye contact as he started licking. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in those dreams. He still couldn’t believe this was real, but god, the sounds she made sent him to heaven. He dipped his tongue into her and her hands flew to the back of his neck. For a moment she forgot everything and started moving her hips against his face. Fuck. It turned him on so much. He slipped his hand into his boxers and gave himself a few strokes. Then she started to moan, and he worked his hand faster while flicking his tongue into her. He fucked himself until she cummed and made a mess inside his pants, cum dripping onto the floor.

“Is that milk?” Her question got him cackling as he got back to his feet, holding onto the counter on either side of her so he wouldn’t fall. He had never cummed so much; it had literally drained him out.

“No, it’s not milk,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked so fucked out as well, which made him feel so proud. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you?”

“Very much,” he said. “I would kiss you again if I hadn’t just eaten you out. Not sure how you’d like it.”

A look of horror crossed Ezi’s face as she quickly checked between her legs.

“No!” Harry laughed. “I didn’t literally eat you. It’s what it’s called.”

“Oh.”

“Dummy.”

“Is it like...sex stuff?”

“Not really sex, just part of the sex. So yeah, sex stuff,” Harry explained, not sure how to feel about this situation. Now that post-nut clarity had hit, he started to feel a bit guilty, but it didn’t he wasn’t proud of himself for making her cum so hard her legs were shaking.

“I still want to kiss, though,” Ezi said shyly. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry smiled. He liked seeing her blush because of him.

With a nod, she pulled him back in.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic rec #harry styles dirty fanfiction

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

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Space Ghost Coast to Coast #82: “Baffler Meal” | January 1, 2003 - 12:00 AM | S08E01

An all-time classic, wonderful episode. Ending 2002 on a high note (technically this is the first episode of 2003 being that it aired at midnight, but I’m delaying my EPHEMERA CORNER post for as long as I can).

The origins of Aqua Teen Hunger Force are laid bare for all to see with Baffler Meal. Aqua Teen Hunger Force was famously based on a rejected Space Ghost script. Well, this is that script, re-imagining the Aqua Teens based on old designs and concepts from that unproduced episode. The desired effect is to approximate what that episode would have been like had it been produced in 1999 before the Aqua Teen Hunger Force series proper was developed. It’s supposed to be confusing; to the point where in the DVD commentary track they even question weather or not they should make it clear within the commentary that that’s what’s going on here (they do).

I will now take this opportunity to quote one of my favorite synopses of a TV show ever, originally taken from tvtome (remember tvtome? god, what a great site):

Space Ghost is forced into a raw deal with the deadly Colonial Man, forever altering the future of classic rock - again. Willie Nelson and a MOCKERY of the Aqua Teen Hunger Force star in this episode. This episode mocks a great comedy show. It doesn't feel funny in the least.

Here you can see the lack of understanding for what the episode really is. Despite the fact that the ostensible Space Ghost fan (tvtome was run by volunteer submissions for it’s episode data) should one-thousand percent understand the Space Ghost connection, clearly recognize Dave Willis’ voice (he still voices Meatwad in a very similar manner), etc. The degree of confusion this episode caused can not be understated.

Nuggets from the DVD commentary:

Frylock is a guy in a costume in this. Okay, that wasn’t specifically from the DVD commentary, but it’s the first time I caught that detail, ever, and I don’t want to start a separate bullet-point list for stray observations.

Shake’s read of “blahd” instead of “blade” was inspired by a real typo in the script, just like “Branford the Branford” before it.

Todd Hanson of The Onion helped write this episode and kept pitching a character named Napkin Lad. I believe Napkin Lad actually comes to be later in the Aqua Teen series.

And another thing I love: The cool song at the end. The part where Dave is like “OH BABY, YEAH BABY” etc. towards the very end of the episode? That part gets stuck in my head like, VERY FREQUENTLY, and for years I thought it was Bob Odenkirk singing in either a Mr. Show or Ben Stiller Show sketch and have been trying to place it forever. Turns out it wasn’t Bob, but David, and I ain’t talkin’ Cross, do I sound cross to you? Do you even appreciate wordplay??

NEXT is my end-of-the-year roundup of second-run premieres, shorts, commercials, bumpers, etc. That’s right, EPHEMERA CORNER is back! But it’s gonna be a long one so I might break it up over the course of a few days, maybe a week, even.

MAIL BAG

I think these were all anonymous, please forgive me if I have, as the French say, “fucked up” by failing to name the conspirator.

2002 is almost over! What do you think brak's position on the iraq war was? Carl's? Hesh's? Junior addleburg's?

Brak: against, but respects the office of the presidency and urges using civil methods to protest. Carl: pro, he is a white supremacist and is supportive of any and all mass destruction committed on non-white nations. Hesh: HESH WANTS SOME SEX! lol. Junior Addleburg: has not been told about the war.

Do you think you are being overtly charitable to Brak this time around? Surely the best Brak show episode isnt even half as good as the worst Home Movies episode. Right?

I do tend to react to “better” Brak episodes the same way you encourage a problem student when they squeak out a B minus. There absolutely was a time when I loved The Brak Show and was all-in on it. That time was SEPTEMBER 2nd-8th, 2001. Hippo was certainly a factor. 9/11 may have also contributed.

I don’t think I’ve said this yet, but I’ve been keeping a running episode ranking of Adult Swim shows as I’ve been doing this. It’ll probably get revised at some point, so I’m not exactly ready to share it. In my ranking I tended to group Home Movies episodes very close to each other, and I would sometimes talk myself into ranking things a little higher or lower than I normally would just to break up a long streak of Home Movies. So I can actually say with impunity, yes, there are strong episodes of Brak Show that I've ranked over weaker episodes of Home Movies. But I might have to have a little chat with the man in the mirror about that.

Are you only doing animated shows or are you going to do live animated shows to. I feel like most people agree Tim and Eric bringing live-action to the block ruined it permanently even if you think those guys are funny in a vacuum. I'm just wondering because I know you did animation only for your Simpsons Night B-sodes so I feel you are a "tooned-in" guy.

Live-action is getting reviewed too! I can’t WAIT to revisit Saul of the Molemen. Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not sure where to draw the line on the internet stuff, though. If it aired on Adult Swim I’m very likely to cover it, but I don’t see myself covering the FishCenter repeats that aired at 4AM. Anime is generally getting the shaft. Sorry. I think it’d be cool if somebody started a blog that covered Adult Swim Action. But yes, you are right, I’m a pretty tooned-in guy. Lots of people have said this about me.

If you had to dress like any of the Adult Swim First Era characters for Halloween who would you dress as and who would you LIKE to dress as if difficulty of pulling it off wasn't an issue.

There was a Space Ghost muscle suit at one of those Halloween Stores one year and I very nearly bought it even though I had no intention of wearing it for Halloween. I did a very low-effort season 4 Hank Venture because by happenstance my hair looked like his at the time, and I found what looked like Brock’s jacket at a thrift store.

Putting on a blue Sealab uniform and only traveling in a chair with wheels would be real fun. I could probably pull of an effective Carl. As far a difficult costume I’d be the poolside announcer during the O.G. bumpers, because I imagine that he’s very muscular and his dick is real long and it’s constantly flopping out of the pantleg of his swim trunks and that it’s getting sucked off all the time by them old ladies and most of the time he’s like “no no, we mustn’t do that, for I am a professional” but every now and again he’s like “well alright” and this would reflect my experiences at whatever Halloween party I’m at except it would be a 20 year old woman dressed like an old lady because it’s Halloween. Thanks for the question.

Do you have a girlfriend? What does she think of Adult Swim or does she hate cartoons like mine.

I’m not done with the last thing. I would also have a bullhorn and I’d be using it while getting sucked off, even though that’s a discreet affair. Like, we’d find a bedroom that was empty and lock the door and I’d be like “Oh yeah baby suck my peenie, yes you are doing so good at sucking that.” in hushed tones, but into the bullhorn. I’d also use it to yell at children for wearing racist or appropriative costumes, which, as we all know, leads to more getting-your-dick-sucked. Anyway, I got a wife and we literally met at an Adult Swim event during Comic-Con! It was Tim & Eric Awesome-con 2007! I’M NOT LYING

Would you rather take one big bite out of meatwad or drink the entirety of Master Shake.

I wonder if Master Shake is warm. Anyway, I’d go with that, biting Meatwad seems like CERTAIN DEATH.

#adult swim #aqua teen hunger force #adultswim2021

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doctor-rainbowfoxey · 3 years

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Renegades Chapter 4 Part 4 The Wheel Part 2

Link to Previous Part HERE

“Uncle Sparky!! Golly, I am just stoked to see you,” the auburn-haired musician put forth, not sounding super excited despite his words stating otherwise. The feral mutant looked at his cellmate with mild concern, having observed his change in demeanor.

Some part of the colorful musician had hoped it had been another man on the other side, a man who had once been like a father to him but alas he was not surprised to be disappointed. Starks assistance was not unwelcome but he it didn't come guilt free. He would have to put up with the pressure and the sales pitch now.

Tony turned to the rookie cop “open it,” he ordered. The young man squeaked and fumbled to comply. As soon as the door opened Stark strode in and to Cyclop's surprise, the Avenger immediately hugged the other Scott. After a minute held him at a distance looked him up and down, inspecting him for injuries and not liking what he saw. He glared at Scott’s feral cellmate accusingly. Logan was quick to step back, hands up in the universal gesture of innocence. Gently the hippie extracted himself from the older inventor’s embrace.

“Christ Scotty, what did they do to you?”

“It wasn't him, Sparky,” objected the paisley hippie ardently. He continued to assure the elder hero, “You know that. It was the long arm of the law that you love promoting.”

“I know. I saw,” ground out the gold suited Avenger wearily with a grimace still looking over warily at Logan.

“Let's go, let's talk about this somewhere without prying eyes,” prompted the avenger attempting to gain command of the situation.

“Right, about that Uncle Sparky,” chimed in the colorful hippie. “I need you to wire funds to pay for my friend here’s release as well,” stated the auburn-haired man matter of factly.

“Him? You barely know the man,” the Avenger exclaimed incredulously. “He could be some kind of ax murdering hooligan!!”

The musician turned to his feral companion, with mock seriousness he beseeched the other, “are you an ax murdering hooligan, Logan?”

“Nooo….?” the shorter mutant slowly mildly offended by the whole affair.

“See? It's fine Sparky,” assured the younger man with a shrug. “I got a good feeling about this guy…”

“But…..fine,” started the richly attired man only to quickly relent when it became clear the other was not going to give in on the matter. Upon seeing his young charge again preoccupied with the pain in his head the older man fumbled to retrieve something from his pocket.

“Here take these. I saw your other pair.. broke,” said Tony gruffly.

The force beamed burdened mutant carefully to the glasses from the other man putting them on with a sigh.

With fond paternalism, the elder Avenger comforted, “That’s much better huh son?”

“Yeah...yeah, it is” demurred the scarlet-eyed mutant, as his headache eased but with a tinge of resentment at the burden.

Stark grumbled, “here’s your jacket and your shoes. Put them on quickly. I feel claustrophobic and I’ve only been in here for 5 minutes. I’d like to leave this hell hole already.”

“Sounds like you should look into criminal justice reform,” commented the hippie as he slipped on his corduroy jacket and sat to put on his shoes.

Cyclops, not wanting to be separated from his counterpart in this universe, dared to jump into the other Scott’s pocket.

Stark stammered uncomfortably, “We can talk about that later Scotty.”

From inside the pocket, Cyclops could hear them talking but he dared not peek out of the pocket lest he risks discovery.

“Here’s his personal effects,” announced one of the police officers to Stark, in a much more respectful tone than he had used before.

“Gaia!” Sighed the passionate man and Cyclops could hear the sound of latches being carefully opened.

“Oh thank god. She’s alright,” breathed the lanky fellow, clearly relieved.

“You still play that old thing?”Asked Tony, mildly surprised.

“Not as much on stage as I used to, but she does perfectly well on the road and among friends,” explained the musician. Cyclops heard the sound of a door closing, he felt the warmth of the sun through the pocket and could smell flowers on the breeze that tickled his whiskers when he dared to sneak a look at the world outside.

“You can’t keep doing this Scotty,” Stark reprimanded sternly.

“Doing what exactly?” replied the younger man with feigned obliviousness.

“These protests and rabble rousing. The sex, drugs, the rock and roll. Take your place back on the team Scotty,” insisted Stark. Cyclops with his mouse senses could tell he was close to the man from the smell of his expensive cologne.

“I’m an adult and not an Avenger anymore. I left that life, objected Scott, with icy controlled coolness as he stepped back from the other man.

“You think you can stop it? That you’re some kind of martyr or something? This has been going on for 10000 years. I’ve tried my best to slow it from the inside but I can’t stop the wheel. This is bigger than us,” argued the greying inventor. Inside his mind, a peaceful man could hear a great wheel turning.

The lanky ex-avenger sighed, “you’re right this is far bigger than us. The peace movement is far more than me alone. If it bothers you that I find I have more luck reaching people with my music than my fists then I’m afraid you’ll just have to let that be Mr. Stark,” stated the peaceful musician calmly and firmly with a tone that broached no query of debate. Cyclops could tell his counterpart was annoyed by over trod on circular arguments that had been rehashed between the two. The pressure of a legacy he could and never fulfill that ground his soul beneath it’s will like a millstone pulverized grain.

The elder hero fretted, “what happened to you on that shield mission overseas?! Ever since then you’ve changed and you won’t talk to any of us about it! If you can’t tell us than please talk to Steve. He’s been worried sick and you owe him that much!” Confided Stark clearly upset and desperate for answers, but in response Cyke could feel his counterpart stiffen.

“Thank you Mr. Stark, for greasing the wheels politically. I’ll wire funds to repay you.” promised the flamboyant musician, his voice sounding hollow and rehearsed robotically as one gets when constantly fending questions you do not wish to answer. Questions that take your mind to places you never wished to return.

“Scott please, at least call and tell him you are alright! Pleaded the seasoned Avenger.

“Fine Sparky I will call him. Will you give it a rest now, you’re being a drag,” remarked the paisley fellow. With effort the hippie willed memories that threatened to break free from their leashes with gnashing teeth and dripping saliva like the feel of hands stained red with blood that could never be washed clean.

“Fine but this is going to be the death of you, mark my words...also is that a rodent in your pocket,” spluttered Stark incredulously.

Suddenly the seasoned mutant hero now in the body of a mouse, felt gentle hands lifting him from his safe space in the pocket. His borrowed body’s instincts urged him to bite but he refused them. Biting alternate Scotts was off the table unless they deserved it.

“Hey little guy. You’re not something I would expect to be in my pocket,” murmured Cyclop’s alternate counterpart amazement. It was a strange sensation looking into the face of someone who looked so much like yourself yet was not you at all.

With a disgusted scowl, Stark commanded, “put that rat down. It’s probably diseased or something,” he elaborated

“It’s a dormouse, Sparky, don’t blow a fuse. I’ll just let him down here in the grass,” assured the lanky man.

Cyke felt himself being lowered to sit on soft moss amongst grasses. Abruptly he realized he should put on a good show of doing mouse things because he was supposed to be a mouse now. Apparently. He ran off deeper into the grass.

“See. It ran away. It’s fine,” replied Scott with confidence. By the time Cyclops had snuck back to where he could watch without being spotted, anything Stark had to say in response had been cut off by the sound of a motorcycle approaching..

“Hey kid, I’m heading down to Cali. You wanna ride?” offered the feral mutant who looked like the picture of the man in black in his long black coat, dark motorcycle. The other Scott Summers in many ways is the polar opposite of this man but they seem to be on the same wavelength as is pulled by the same gravity.

The colorful musician looked invigorated in response to the offer as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Where before he had felt a beast being herded and caged suddenly he saw him a way out, an escape. With calculated impulsivity would seize such an opportunity as he always had before.

“Do I!! You’re a sight for sore eyes ol’man,” declared the groovy man as he approached Logan, smiling broadly as the sun illuminated highlights amongst his auburn hair. In less than he had his guitar strapped to his back and was climbing on behind the other man while Stark stood gobsmacked.

“Scott Summers get off that bike right now!! What the hell do you think you’re doing!!” barked the stately Avenger beside himself.

“Sorry, Sparky gotta keep truckin’ later!” answered the man in paisley.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark,” called the man in black politely, if too late.

“Summers!! You get back here this instant! Rogers you’re kid is just as stubborn and troublesome as you! The stress of dealing with both of you is going to give me an ulcer. Damn it!! “yelled Stark to the dust and exhaust fumes that were all that remained of the two vagabonds. All the while Cyclops swore he could hear a voice singing mournfully.

I look at the world

And I notice it's turning

While my guitar gently weeps

With every mistake

We must surely be learning

Still my guitar gently weeps

The whole world around Scott seemed to reverberate around the voice, fading in and out, tilting sickeningly until…

****************

Scott opened his eyes. The voice was still singing. Carefully Scott quietly as possible turned his head to see who was singing.

‘I don't know how you were diverted

You were perverted too

I don't know how you were inverted

No one alerted you’

It was the suborn haired man, with the silver bangs and green eyes who reminded Scott so painfully of a perverse caricature of his kind and gentle friend. Held lovingly in his hands was a pair of hexagonal ruby quartz glasses exactly like the ones the Scott from the vision wore.

I look from the wings

At the play you are staging

While my guitar gently weeps

'Cause I'm sitting here

Doing nothing but aging

Still my guitar gently weeps

While Axel strokes the glasses lovingly a single tear fell slowly from the man’s eye as if it the glasses had managed to awaken something long locked away.

“Is that..?” Scott started to ask on impulse, unable to silence his curiosity.

“You!” Hissed Axel with cold fury as if he had intruded in something private and forbidden.

“Back into the depths you go, you poor innocent soul,” the radioactive green-eyed man. Suddenly the darkness was rising thick as London’s fog, and the last thing he saw before all was consumed was the man’s cruel grin dissolving into blank emptiness.

#scott summers #x-men #xmen #scogan #logan howlett #xmen fanfiction

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maisondenachtai · 4 years

Text

Shea Butter (Baby) (NSFW)

Pairing: Erik x Black!Reader.

Summary: I mean…. another man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

(author’s note: so, okay...I had this idea of mash-up monday where we all take two songs with the same title, or same general title and write a fic based on what you are inspired by from listening to both songs. I’m sure there are enough songs to do this with. my songs were Shea Butter by Pardison Fontaine and Shea Butter Baby by Ari Lennox and this is what I came up with. I hope people try this as well! It was fun.)

Song Lyrics That Inspired Me: I want you, gotta have you, I don't think you understand (You don't) I heard you when you told me you already got a man (So?) That nigga probably love you but can't fuck you like I can You need a man in your pussy, not a pussy as your man (Ayy, woo) - Pardison Fountaine

You lost in the shape of my hips Hope there is a move And if you really down, we can find it Lost in an alley, make love by a trash can, ayy - Ari Lennox

You felt uncomfortable, to say the least. You were smashed right between your boyfriend, and his homeboy. Your boyfriend’s hand was slung around your waist, hand on the curve of your hip. He could definitely feel the vibration of your phone, notifying you of text messages that you were receiving.

“Damn baby, you got the hotline tonight.” Devon said drink to his lips, eyes glued to the tv screen. You laughed then, nervously, out of the corner of your eye you could see his homeboy, best friend, supposed god father to your future kids, put his cellphone back down on the arm of the chair.

Good lord you were playing with fire. You had been striking the match for a long time now, ever since you had drunkenly kissed his homeboy during a kickback, on the side of your brownstone. He was holding the trash, that he was supposed be throwing out, with one hand and your ass in one hand. You were holding his face pulling him deeper into you. You were supposed to be showing him which trash can was yours. That was months ago. Ever since then you had been trying to avoid Erik Stevens. You made sure that you were busy on nights like this, studying at your own place, working night shifts at the pharmacy. Hell, you had even taken up night soul cycling with your crazy cousin who was into the crystals. But somehow you had gotten caught slippin’.

But you were an adult, you could handle a little awkwardness and as long as Erik was cool, you could be cool.

As least that’s what you thought.

It all started at the door. You opened it and was instantly hit with that familiar fragrance of man, cologne and Irish Spring. You felt dizzy and were tongue tied when you looked up to see Erik smiling, wolfishly, back down at you.

“Damn girl, where the fuck you been?” He leaned against the doorframe looking you up and down. When his gaze traveled back up and paused at your lips, he bit down on his own and you knew right then that you were in trouble. “You been hiding from me?” He asked, low enough to where only you and him could hear.

Before you could respond by pushing him out of the doorframe and slamming the door on your troubles, Devon walked up and made that noise men make when greeting another male of their brotherhood. While they did their handshake and greeted each other, you slipped under Devon’s arm and made your way into the kitchen to make sure the spread was right…and to get out of Erik’s eye sight.

Fifteen minutes later you still had not made it out of the kitchen, still picking over the food. The living room was now full with Devon’s friends and their girlfriends or girls they were seeing at the moment. You busied yourself putting out more food when the men made their plates, engaging their girlfriends when they came into the kitchen to grab a drink or a little food. Anything you could do to avoid being in the same space as Erik. At one point you had started to arrange the cups in his cupboard.

“Baby. Stop fingering my cups and sit down. Damn.” Devon said earning a laugh from his crew. You turned and huffed, the jig was up and you had to face your demons. And your demon was patting the cushion between himself and his boy.

And that’s how you found yourself between a rock and a hard place. Devon had wrapped his hand around your waist somewhere after the 1st quarter ended and that’s when the text messages started. You knew it was Erik because he nudged you discreetly once your phone started vibrating. You made sure Devon was focused on the game before grabbing your phone from your pocket. You unlocked it and read the message.

You didn’t answer my question.

What question?

U been hidin from me?

Y would I hide from you?

I don’t know baby. U tell me.

Don’t call me baby.

With that you slid the phone back into your pocket and cuddled up into your man. But that of course didn’t stop Erik from messaging you. You pulled out your phone again and brought it closer to your face now that you were closer to Devon.

Y not? You my baby.

No I’m not, Erik. I have a man.

Nah, you got a boyfriend. I’m ya man.

Can your boyfriend make you cum like I can?

His sentence made you go back to that day, in the alley, next to your garbage can. You’re not sure who touched who in what way to make Erik push you against the wall like he did. You’re not sure what signal you gave him that made him know that you wanted him to kiss you like he did. By the time you figured what you were doing was wrong, he had your legs around his waist and your dressed hitched up so you felt him against your panties.

You pushed him back, breathless, your lip gloss smeared around and on his lips. His and your breaths came out in white puffs, going up together in a cloud of vapor.

“What ma? Why you stopping me?” He leaned towards you again capturing your lips in another heated kiss but you pushed him back again before you both got in too deep.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Erik? Devon is right upstairs.” You searched his face for regret or memory* but the only thing you saw was undisguised lust. It made you even more turned on.

“I don’t give a fuck about fucking Devon.” His lips brushed up your neck. “He knew I wanted you anyway but nigga fucking pushed up before I could.” He bit gently right under your earlobe and you shivered, but not from the cold.

“Wait what?” You pushed him back again and this time he made a noise that sounded close to a growl. “The fuck does that mean?”

Erik looked down the alley where people were passing by, not looking towards the sounds you know they could hear coming from the dark alley. He looked back at you. “That day Devon approached you at the party, I saw you first and I told him about you. How good your ass looked in that yellow dress.” He gripped your ass at that and you groaned. “How I liked how you bit your lips when you danced with your girls. How I wanted to take you home that night. How bad I wanted you to sit on my fucking face.” He kissed you again and when he pulled back, you immediately followed his lips with your own but he kept talking.

“But D, fucking D always has to have what I want, so he pressed up on you first.” He pressed against you then, hard and big. Your pussy clenched. “And now you with him. But I don’t give a fuck. I want you.” With that he rocked against your clothed pussy, sending a sharp jolt as if he was inside of you. You moaned softly.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said encouraging your moans as he continued his dry humping. “When he fucks you tonight, you remember I made you feel like this without being inside of you.” He rocked harder. “You remember how wet you got from just my kisses.” He sucked a line from your neck to your lips biting down. You moaned as his thrusting became harder, giving you enough friction to throw you over the edge hard.

You clenched your legs around him hard, pulling him into you. He chuckled softly in your ear before giving you soft kisses on your neck.

“Then when he finally makes you orgasm with that weak shit he gives you, you remember how good you felt with me, and how much better I can make you feel with just one stroke” When your legs stopped shaking, he dropped you down and picked up the trash, putting it in the trash can where it belonged.

A buzzing brought you back from your memory, and you noticed that you had clenched your legs up tight.

I didn’t think so.

Answer ya ‘man’.

“Huh?” You slid your phone back into your pocket and looked over at Devon who was looking back at you as if you had two heads.

“You bored huh bae? I’m sorry.” He kissed your temple. “I was just asking who was texting you?”

“Oh.” You chuckled, placing a smile on your face. “Just Kendra. She was telling me about her date with the NBA player.”

“Your girl is a trip, I swear.” Devon settled back and got back into the game, even moving his arm from around you and pointing out a bad call.

After fifteen minutes your phone had buzzed several more times, yet you ignored it instead spending your time really focusing on the game. Devon and several of the men had taken to standing up around the TV as if their energy could be transmitted through the TV. The girlfriends were gathered in the kitchen picking at fruit and talking. You had tried to join them but Erik gripped your shirt, keeping you in your place. He had hung back from the guys, instead choosing to antagonize you by brushing his knee against yours every five minutes.

Erik leaned towards you and whispered in your ear. “Since you ain’t answering my messages, I’m just gonna tell you what they said. The first one said, I want your pussy against my mouth.” He licked your earlobe before pulling back just as whoops went up.

“Stop it.” You said out of the side of your mouth.

Erik smirked and leaned closer to you, “Nah. I wrote them messages and you gon’ know what I said. The second one said, I want you ride my face. Period. Hard. Period.”

“Erik, please.” You begged quietly, you could feel your resolve crumbling.

“No ma. You been hiding from me. I don’t like that shit. You got a nigga fucking weak and shit, hoping to see you but you don’t never show up. So you best believe I’mma tell you everything I want from you while you’re here.” He smiled. “That reminds me, the third one said, after you cum against my mouth, I’m going to bend you over whatever’s close and take what I want. Hard.”

You bit your lip and clenched your thighs together. You looked at Devon who was focused solely on the game.

“Oh and the fourth one is my favorite one, it said, 15 minutes, my crib.” He brushed his hand over your knee and then stood up going over to Devon and patting him on the shoulder.

“Oh man, you’re leaving already?” Devon said doing their handshake again but ending it with a chest bump. “You must got a pussy appointment?” Devon smirked.

“I hope so.” Erik grinned at Devon and then said his goodbyes to the other men before waving goodbye to the ladies and then finally at you. He mouthed ‘13’ before walking to the door and leaving.

You looked around and found the girlfriends looking at you. When they found you looking back at them, they turned whispering to themselves again. Honestly, you really didn’t give a fuck about what they thought. In fact, you didn’t give a fuck about anything at this point.

You looked at the clock on the wall.

In 11 minutes, you were going to get dicked down.

#erik x reader #erik killmonger #killmonger smut #black panther fanfiction #erik stevens x reader #killmonger x reader #black panther killmonger #killmonger imagine

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Family You Choose (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Family You Choose Rating: PG-13 Length: 3800 Warnings: Period Typical Sexism and Homophobia (including the use of a slur). But with Family Fluff. Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set November 1997. Summary: Thanksgiving in Laredo.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

You brought your beer bottle to your lips as you watched Javier across the party hall. He had spent the last couple of hours showing Sofía to his aunts and uncles, while Josie made a valiant vy for attention by wowing her relatives with her ability to sing the alphabet in both English and Spanish.

Javier seemed so at ease with them. You still remembered the first time he brought you to Laredo. Everything you owned had been shipped from Colombia to a storage facility in San Antonio, then packed into the back of the minivan you’d rented at the airport. It was surreal to think about how Laredo had been the first leg of your journey to Miami. A place that truly felt like home now.

“When you mentioned his extended family, I think I pictured a couple aunts and uncles, maybe a handful of cousins.” Monica said as she leaned towards you, “This looks like the entire town is here.”

You glanced around the party hall with a shrug, “This is relatively small.” You admitted as you looked towards her then. “We came here for Christmas last year. A bunch of his mother’s family came up from Mexico and it was packed.” You gestured towards the back of the hall, where a line of glass double doors covered the wall. “We had all of those open and the back area was filled with tables. Luckily it was in the upper sixties.”

“From all the stories told about his childhood, you would never think that Javier has this huge extended family.” Monica grabbed her own bottle of beer, taking a swig as she looked around the room. “Okay, so is she here?”

“Yeah.” You snorted, nodding your head. “Don’t make it obvious.” You told her with a conspiratorial whisper. “Three tables behind me. Teased blonde hair and festive jumper.”

Monica covered her mouth to keep from laughing as she looked back at you. “I’m sorry, but I can’t picture Javier with her.” She made a face. “She’s even got her husband in a matching sweater!”

“Shhh.” You warned her, leaning back against your chair as you laughed. “I know exactly where she picked those up too. I taunted Javier with the set at JCPenneys last week.”

“And how did that go over?”

“He threatened to shave off the mustache.”

Her brows shot upwards, “No!”

“He spoils all my fun.” You tsked, shaking your head as you curled your fingers around the beer bottle. “He’d look terrible without the ‘stache.” Your eyes wandered back towards where he was, smirking as you met his gaze. Sofía had been passed off to an older woman who you were fairly certain was one of his second cousins and Josie was sitting in his lap talking up a storm about God only knew. Javier grinned at you, brushing his fingers over the top of Josie’s curly head.

“Hey,” You turned towards Monica. “Do you think you can hold down the table without me?”

Monica arched a brow, “I could be convinced.”

“I’ll bring you back another cupcake.” You offered as you finished off your beer and got up from your seat.

“Fine. Fine.” She urged, waving you off.

You headed towards the circular table that Javi was seated out, grabbing a chair from the table beside it as you settled down next to him. “Having fun?” You questioned, draping your arm over his shoulders as you leaned towards him.

“More or less.” He chuckled, gesturing towards Josie. “This one is going to be the life of the party when she gets older.”

“I have no doubt.” You glanced down at her with a barely concealed grin. “She clearly gets that from me.” You teased, “Sofía’s got that grumpy Peña face.”

Javier rolled his eyes.

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” He conceded with a shrug. “And she’s got Pops wrapped around her finger, same as Josie.”

You rested your cheek against his shoulder, “What can I say? My girls like their Peñas.”

“Mommy!” Josie clapped her hands together as she turned towards you, now that her Great Tía had left the table she needed to entertain someone who would listen to her.

“What’s up, kiddo?” You questioned as you looked down at her.

“Can I go play with the other kids?”

You noticed the way Javier tensed at her question. You arched a brow as you exchanged a look with him, “Did daddy already say ‘no’?”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, “Loraine’s kids were over there playing and…” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to get into it.”

“It’s fine.” You brushed your fingers over the back of his neck. “Josie, you can go play. Just be nice and remember to share.”

“Okay mommy!” She said as she slid off Javier’s lap. You watched her as she weaved her way through the crowd towards where the kids were playing together.

You turned back towards Javier with a bemused look, “We just saw her last year. It’s not that weird.”

“Yeah. I know” He shrugged a shoulder, rocking his jaw slowly as he reached for his bottle of beer. “With everything that’s happened, I just didn’t want there to be any stress for you, baby.” He told you, resting his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze.

You draped your hand over his, interlacing your fingers. “Loraine is probably the last person to stress me out.” You shook your head, glancing back towards the table you’d left. Chucho had returned with Sofía and was laughing with Monica about something.

“Ah, there’s a face I haven’t seen for a long time!” You glanced up as a man around Javier’s age approached the table.

“Felix!” Javier answered with a tight smile, releasing his hold on your knee as he moved to stand up. He hugged the man, “It’s good to see you.”

“Last time I saw that ugly mug of yours we were taking your pop’s truck for a joyride down that dirt road off 59.”

“A long damn time ago,” Javier agreed as he clapped Felix on the back and turned back towards you. “Baby, this is Felix. My cousin.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” You said as you shook his hand. “I don’t remember you at Christmas last year.”

“I didn’t come.” Felix gave Javier a look, “But you did?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, before he let out a low whistle of disappointment. “You know Javi, I’d heard the rumors but I hadn’t believed a single one of them.”

Oh Jesus. You knew exactly where this was going. Nowhere good.

“When Javier and I were young bucks,” Felix attempted to regale you. “We had a hell of time in this town.” He looked between a very unamused Javier and you, before holding his hand out towards you. “Let me see it.”

“See what?” You blinked.

“The ring.”

“What ring?” Javier questioned.

Felix looked confused. “The ring.”

You snorted. “We’re not married.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Felix pursed his lips as he stared at Javier. “But you have a ring.”

“Yeah, inscribed with our anniversary and our daughters’ birthdays.”

“But it’s not a wedding band?”

“No.” You both answered him.

His hands went to his hip as he shook his head, “I guess that explains a whole hell of a lot.”

Javier squared off with his cousin, “What the hell does that even mean, Felix?”

Felix dropped his voice, though not low enough that you couldn’t hear him plainly. “You show up here with her and that pretty young thing. I’m impressed, Javier. Never saw you as a bigami—“

“I wouldn’t finish that if I were you.” Javier warned.

“Monica is basically our daughter.” You explained, crossing your arms across your chest as you stared at Felix. “Just because Javier and I aren’t married to each other doesn’t mean there’s anyone else involved in our relationship.”

“Then why is she here?”

Javier gritted his teeth, “Because her own parents don’t deserve her.”

“So you, what? Adopted a full grown adult?” Felix laughed condescendingly. “The hell happened to you in Colombia, my man?”

You reached for Javier’s partially drunk beer and took a sip. Which was a better option than picking it up and—

“She’s a smart kid who was in a rough situation. Her parents kicked her out and she was gonna lose everything. What was I gonna do, let it happen?” Javier shot back, his jaw clenched so tightly you could see the strain in his neck.

“Why’d they kick her out? Sneaking boys into the house?” He wiggled his brows suggestively at you and you sneered back at him in response. “Weed? Underage drinking?”

Javier glared at him.

“Wait,” Felix dropped his voice to a whisper, pointing at Javier. “Is she a fag?”

Before you even had a chance to blink, Javier’s fist made contact with Felix’s jaw, sending him reeling several feet backwards as he stumbled.

“What the fuck, Javier?” Felix grabbed at his face where he’d struck him. “I guess that was the answer then, huh? So your pretend daughter’s a fag?”

Javier made to lunge at him, but you grabbed him by the bicep and held him back. He’d already drawn everyone’s attention to the three of you. “If you say another goddamn word about one of my daughters, you’re gonna regret it.”

Felix held his hands up in mock defeat. “I thought it was bad enough when you were getting hitched to Loraine. You were no fun anymore, man. At least you came to your senses But this—“ He pointed to you. “The Javier I used to know wouldn’t be playing house with some woman you picked up in Colombia.”

“Some woman I picked up in Colombia.” Javier repeated, laughing harshly as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek. “This goddamn woman took down Carlos Lehder on her second day with the DEA. She was there when Pablo Escobar’s reign of bullshit ended. That’s just scraping the surface. What’ve you done Felix? That’s right. Nothing.”

“We don’t need to make a scene about me.” You told Javier, tightening your grip on his arm.

“No.” He shook his head, his gaze darting towards you. “Because I used to be in his shoes. I get it.” Javier took a step forward, glaring at Felix. “Being alone is great, isn’t it? Going home to an empty apartment, drinking to forget that it’s empty. Hell, maybe it’s not. Maybe you’ve got company with someone whose name you won’t even remember next month.” He pulled his arm from your grip, closing the distance between the two men. “I used to be you. Thinking I was happy, when I was just angry at the world. Get help, Felix.”

“Fuck you, Javier.” Felix swore, before he turned his back and headed for the exit across the party hall as murmurs grew.

“Hey,” Chucho started as he approached you with Josie at his side. His brows were furrowed together, clearly worried about the situation he just witnessed. “I don’t know where Monica went. She was trying to settle Sofía the last I saw.”

You scanned the crowd of faces that were all staring at you and Javier, but you failed to spot her among them. “I’ll find her.” You assured him, before turning back to Javier. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“He’s a son of a bitch.” Javier flexed his hand, looking down at it. “Fuck.”

“I’ve seen you punch two men in the past three months,” You remarked, reaching out for his hand to check it over. He hissed when you brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “I can’t tell if I should be terrified or turned on.”

Javier gave you a scandalized look, “Seriously?”

“Do not judge me, babe.” You shot back. “Put ice on this, it’s going to swell. I’m going to find Monica.” But first, you were going to grab a cupcake from the dessert table because she deserved one.

Monica was not easily found.

She wasn’t outside. You searched for her in the women’s bathroom, the family bathroom, and the weird room that was clearly designed for bridal parties without any luck. And she wasn’t hiding in the van.

You were about to admit defeat, before the familiar sound of a baby fussing drew you towards the coat closet. You pulled open the door, relieved to find Monica sitting against the back wall with Sofía.

“I hope you see the irony in this.” You remarked as you stepped inside and closed the closet door behind you.

Monica sniffled as she looked up at you with tear-stained cheeks. “Trust me, it wasn’t lost on me.” She had Sofía resting against her bent knees, letting her bounce on her lap. “She’s tired.”

“Me too.” You admitted as you sank down on the floor beside her, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Here.” You said, holding your arms out for her to pass the baby to you. Sofía squirmed, resistant at first, but you managed to get her to settle down against your chest.

“This is for you.”

“Thank you.” Monica grinned as she took the cupcake from you. “Chocolate cures everything.” She mused as she peeled the paper off.

You glanced down at Sofía, watching her face as she kept waking herself back up every time her eyes closed. “Just sleep, sunshine.” You murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Monica sniffed quietly, wiping tears off with the sleeve of her sweater.

“So, how much did you hear?” You questioned.

“I was bringing Sofía over to you,” She explained with a sigh. “I caught the tail end of the conversation when he called me a…” Fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she drew her knees to her chest. “And then Javier called me his daughter and I just ran.”

You reached over and rubbed your hand across her back. “I don’t know what Felix’s story is, but neither of us are going to put up with that shit, Monica. What he said was wrong.”

“I know.” She popped a piece of cupcake into her mouth. “And the way Javier punched him.”

“It was glorious.” You grinned. “I might have a problem.”

“I’d probably swoon if a pretty girl punched someone for me.” She admitted with a quiet laugh as she wiped at her eyes again. “It’s just so stupid. I’ve heard every iteration of that word thrown at me, but… things have just been so good. With you and Javier, Nadia, and then Murphys, and everyone in my circle — I forgot what it felt like.”

“The world sucks.” You glanced downwards at Sofía, relieved to see that she wasn’t fighting the pull to sleep anymore. Her little eyelashes fluttered, as a content sigh escaped from her. “For every couple like Javier and I, there’s some asshole like Felix. Honestly, there’s always going to be that jerk.”

“We have one of those in class.” Monica rolled her eyes.

“George?”

“Bingo.”

“I figured.” You laughed. “We used to work with this guy named Chris, right after Steve left. A truly insufferable human being. They’re people who don’t have any joy in their lives and when they see happy people and they just want to snuff it out.” You gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m not a good motivational speaker.”

“You’re good.” She offered as she sank back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. “Do you think we could go back to the ranch? I don’t know if I want to go back out there.”

You nodded, “Of course.”

“I feel bad to make you guys leave early.”

“Don’t feel bad. We’ve seen everyone that needs to be seen.” You assured her, “Do you want to stay in here while I go get Javi?”

Monica nodded.

You held Sofía securely to your chest as you got up. “I’ll be back.” You told Monica, before you slipped out the door and headed back into the party hall to find Javier.

“Did you find her?”

“Yeah, she’s hiding in the coat closet.” You answered as Javier passed the baby carrier to you across the table. “I think it’s time to go home.”

“Home home?” Javier questioned.

“The ranch.” You clarified as you strapped Sofía into the carrier. “Did I miss any more fights?”

Javier rolled his eyes, “The asshole left.”

“Daddy,” Josie urged softly. “You said a bad word.”

“Yeah, daddy did say a bad word.” Javier admitted with a sigh. “I’ll put a nickel in the swear jar, princesa.”

“To be young and oblivious.” You remarked with a laugh, shaking your head. “Chucho, I’m so sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for, chica?” Chucho’s brows furrowed together. “The one who should be apologizing has already left.” He gestured vaguely towards the doorway Felix had exited through. “That boy was always trouble.”

“He was.” Javier agreed with a nod, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Let’s get out of here.” He took Sofía’s carrier from you, meeting your gaze. “What a fucking nightmare.”

You reached down and curled your fingers around his where he held Sofía’s carrier. “You did the right thing, Javi.” You assured him. “And I think it really meant something to Monica that you didn’t even waver on calling her our kid.”

Javier rocked his jaw slowly, giving a stiff nod. “Well she is. Blood doesn’t mean shit.”

——

“Hot chocolate.” You announced as you held the mug out in front of Monica. “Chucho’s special recipe.”

“Should I be afraid?” Monica laughed, curling her legs beneath her as she took the mug from you.

Javier stretched out on the sofa, tucking an arm beneath his head as he glanced towards the two of you, “He went easy on the chili pepper.”

Monica took a small sip, “That’s different. It’s really creamy.”

“There’s so much heavy cream in it.” You laughed, moving towards the sofa where your own mug was sitting on the coffee table. “Move.” You told Javi, giving his leg a swat as he kept them stretched out. “I will sit on you.”

“Am I supposed to hate that offer?” He shot back, before begrudgingly sitting upright.

You settled onto the sofa beside him, slipping your arm between his back and the sofa cushion as you sank against him. “I’m sorry about how things went down today.” You chewed on your bottom lip as you looked towards Monica. “I know you didn’t really want to go to the shindig.”

“I had fun,” Monica insisted. “Everyone was so nice and welcoming. Danny and his wife were wonderful. Their baby is adorable.” She took another sip of the hot chocolate. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I get that,” Javier nodded his head. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t feel like shit about it. Felix hasn’t come to a family gathering since… hell, probably before I went to Colombia. Bit of a black sheep. I shouldn’t have engaged at all.”

You glanced down at Javier’s hand. Despite the ice, his first two knuckles were already turning a dark shade of purple from making contact with Felix’s jaw bone. A small price to pay.

He sighed heavily, rubbing at the back of his neck, “All that is to say, you’re part of our family, Monica. And I don’t take kindly to people talking shit about my family.” You rested your cheek against Javier’s shoulder, your fingers trailing over his back slowly.

“I don’t have words for how much that means to me, Javier.” Monica said as she curled her hands around the mug. “After everything that happened… you’ve both been so good to me. I still don’t know how to thank you.”

“We don’t need gratitude,” You stressed. “We just want the best for you. Same as we want for Josie or Sofía. It’s on your parents for not recognizing that they had a good kid on their hands. Sometimes, parents prove to be the biggest disappointments in our lives.”

Monica nodded slowly, “You’re not wrong there.”

“I wish you hadn’t heard his bullshit,” Javier scraped his teeth over his bottom lip. “And Josie saw me punch the fucker.” He huffed, flexing his hand against his leg. “That made for a fun bedtime story.”

You slid your arm out from behind his back, reaching up to play your fingers over the hair at the nape of his neck. “I think you explained it well.” You leaned forward and grabbed your mug of hot chocolate, taking a sip. “And we promise holidays in Laredo are not generally this exciting.”

“Honestly, I was hoping for a little excitement.” Monica teased. “Why is your ex-fiance invited to family things?”

Javier grumbled, “Because she’s still close to my family.” He shrugged a shoulder, “It’s a small town and… you get a lot of sympathy when someone leaves you at the altar. Even if it was — shit, nearly thirty years ago.”

“I have so many questions about young Javier Peña.” You teased him, nudging your elbow into his ribs.

“Me too.” Monica leaned forward, sipping at her hot chocolate. “What were you like?”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head slowly. “That’s ancient history.” Javier gave you a pointed look. “I’m certain you’ve heard plenty of stories from Pops.”

“So many.” You agreed, ruffling your fingers through his hair. “But it doesn’t really matter who any of us were before. It’s about who we are now.” You smiled softly. “Even if I really want to hear about what kind of hell raiser you were as a teenager.”

“I wouldn’t call it hell-raising.” Javier snorted, shaking his head. “You can’t get away with too much when you live in a small town.”

“Especially when your family makes up half of the town,” Monica quipped as she finished off her hot chocolate and stood up. “I think I’m gonna head to bed. Do you think Josie will mind if I steal Stevie for the night?”

“Nah, but that does mean you’ll have to take her out in the middle of the night.” Javier told her, scratching at his jawline.

“I don’t mind.” She shrugged. “Good night guys.”

“Sleep well, Monica.” You offered. “Don’t forget — bright and early to make pecan pie.”

She snapped her fingers at you as she walked backwards. “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten pie’o’clock.”

You laughed, taking another sip of hot chocolate. “Well, today was certainly a day.” You mused, tilting your head to look at Javier. “Quit beating yourself up, Javi.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” You tapped his chin, urging him to look at you. “I love you.”

Javier sighed heavily, “I love you too. I just hate that Josie saw me deck a guy.”

“Actions have consequences. He said a whole lot of awful shit and…” You gestured to his hand. “He got punched for it.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “It was a good lesson for Josie. Just because Felix is family, doesn’t mean we have to associate with him. Family is the people you choose to keep in your life.”

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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flightfoot · 3 years

Text

Let It Be Enough To Reach The Truth That Lies Ch.1

Thanks to my betas, @miabrown007, @khanofallorcs, and Marby!

AO3

-------

Well, so much for THAT test.

He’d found a Holder for the Ladybug Miraculous quickly. That girl from the bakery would do nicely.

The Black Cat was proving trickier.

Apparently, an old man on the ground, straining to reach his cane wasn’t even worth stopping for, much less helping. Granted, he didn’t see any kids around; it was just random adults. Which was weird since he was right outside Collège Françoise Dupont and he was pretty sure Bakery Girl was running here to her class.

Though, she seemed like she was late… maybe he should’ve waited until lunch period to try the test. Most of the students were probably inside by now.

With a sigh, he got up and trudged off. Hopefully whoever held the Butterfly Miraculous now would wait just a little longer before activating it.

He didn’t notice the small box he had left behind.

------

Adrien sighed as he sank into the car seat.

Of course Nathalie and Gorilla caught him. His father probably hadn’t even noticed he was gone, but those two? They actually looked after him. They’d notice — especially Gorilla.

Though he had a feeling Gorilla hadn’t been the one to draw attention to him being gone. His job might be to protect Adrien, but well… even he seemed to realize that the lockdown his father had put him under wasn’t so much ‘protecting’ him as ‘stifling’ him.

At least, that was what he thought from Gorilla’s facial expression, body language, and him very conspicuously going to the bathroom for an extended period of time right about when Adrien would need to leave in order to run to school.

Unfortunately, Nathalie wasn’t so lenient.

He played around with the box he’d scooped up as he ran to school. He’d intended to bring it to the lost and found (assuming a student or faculty member lost it, judging by its location), but it looked like he wouldn’t get the chance.

Maybe she’d return it for him?

“Hey, Nathalie, I know you probably won’t let me head back there but… could you at least make sure this gets to the school? I think someone left it behind and I wouldn’t want them to not get it back because of me.”

She was silent for a minute. He didn’t even think she heard him at first.

Finally, she let out a deep breath and stuck her hand back. “Very well. Give it to me.”

She brought it up in front of her where she could see it.

And choked and spluttered.

“This- how did you- where did you get this?!”

Adrien blinked, surprised. Why would just a small box — albeit a very ornate one — garner such a strong reaction? “I found it on the ground just outside the school.”

She turned halfway around in her seat, her face deadly serious. “Adrien. Do you remember anyone around? Anyone at all?”

“I- I mean, there were some random people, but I don’t-”

“Adrien. This is important. Think.”

He closed his eyes, concentrating hard.

But-

“Sorry, Nathalie. I don’t remember. I wasn’t paying attention to that.”

She stared at him a moment, searching his face, then nodded. “Very well. They may have left already in any case.”

“They who?”

She ignored him.

“Nathalie? What’s up with that box?”

She pulled out her phone. “Mr. Agreste? I’ve got something you need to see.”

----

She refused to acknowledge him for the rest of the car ride.

He stopped trying after the third attempt. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make any headway like this.

It was like talking to his father; once he made a decision nothing Adrien said or did would sway him.

When they entered the house, Nathalie headed straight for his father’s study. He tried to tag along but-

“Adrien. I must speak to your father privately.”

He frowned. “Is this about the box?”

She just turned around, closing the door behind her.

With a sigh he walked to his room, depositing his school bag on the floor before making a flying leap onto his bed, burying his head in his pillow.

What was Nathalie hiding?

Why was that random box so important?

And why couldn’t he go to school?

He’d always had a very… constrained social circle, limited to Chloé, and occasionally Félix, whenever he happened to visit. It could get lonely sometimes and he really wanted to spend time with more kids his own age, but he’d at least always had them, plus his mother.

A deep ache filled his stomach. She’d only been gone a couple months, but it felt both like no time had passed at all, and like an eternity.

And when she passed away, so it seemed had his father.

He’d ordered a full lockdown, not allowing Adrien to see ANYONE but Nathalie, Gorilla, and himself. Not that that meant much. He seemed to live in his study now.

Adrien had been trying to give his father space.

But… while his father had lost his wife... he’d lost his mother.

And he still needed people.

He couldn’t stay locked up in this house forever, slowly going insane with only his spiraling thoughts and memories to keep him company.

*rumble*

What was that?

He ran out the front door, expecting to see… he didn’t know.

But definitely not what was actually there.

A giant stone monster?

What the hell?!

Could this day get any stranger?

The police shot at the monster, which seemed like a pretty ineffectual choice to Adrien. If it was made of stone like it looked, that wouldn’t do much more than annoy him.

It glowed, growing even bigger.

Well.

So much for that.

Rushing back inside, he turned on the TV.

A surge of excitement ran through him as he listened to the newscaster.

A supervillain? Here in Paris?

Maybe it wasn’t a good thing. Wasn’t something to hope for. That supervillain was causing a lot of damage, and judging by the police chief’s broken arm, had already hurt people.

But Adrien’d grown up on tales of superheroes and supervillains, of good versus evil, of epic battles and the triumph of the best of human nature.

He may have practiced some superhero moves a few times. His climbing wall was great for perfecting the landings.

Of course, not all superhero tropes were created equal. While he liked the regular human superheroes showing how even ordinary (well, for certain values of ‘ordinary’) people could fight against the most extraordinary foes, he loved seeing people who had superpowers intrinsically fight for what was right as well, his favorite superheroes weren’t even usually called ’superheroes’.

When he was a couple years younger and flicking through TV channels, he’d stumbled across a show in a style he hadn’t seen before, but had grown quite familiar with since.

A pigtailed teen girl struggling against a supervillain, not knowing what to do, thinking all hope was lost and she’d failed-!

Until a rose embedded itself at her feet.

A mysterious dashing stranger dressed in black giving her the words of encouragement that she couldn’t find for herself.

He continued watching, later discovering that the show was named after the titular heroine Sailor Moon.

Tuxedo Mask — at least, while transformed — remained his favorite element of the show, the sort of hero he secretly wished he could be.

Though with a cooler transformation sequence. Tuxedo Mask’s was pretty boring. The Sailor Scouts were far more interesting to watch.

He may have made up his own transformation sequence for Tuxedo Mask, practicing it a few times.

A few hundred times.

With what had happened in- in the past few months, he’d stopped watching it.

Stopped daydreaming.

But now it all came rushing back.

He jumped up, about to race out again-

And paused.

What exactly could he DO here?

He didn’t have superpowers, and his attempt at karate…

Well. There was a reason he’d dropped the class after a few sessions.

Right now he wished he’d kept at it. Fencing didn’t seem like it’d be that useful here.

Oh who was he kidding, even KARATE wouldn’t do much. The police had already tried firing at the monster and that only made it stronger.

He’d go and follow it, see what might happen — hey maybe he could still help from the sidelines, and who knew? Maybe a superhero would show up to help! — but somehow he doubted Gorilla would let him.

Look the other way so he could go to school? Sure.

Look the other way so he could follow a dangerous, unknown supervillain? Kiiiiinda went against his entire job.

Though, that didn’t stop him from feeling a pang of jealousy when he saw a girl around his age on TV, following the supervillain on her bike. Absurdly dangerous, most definitely, but he’d change places with her in a heartbeat.

Unfortunately, all he could do was watch.

A superhero DID show up a short time later. There wasn’t much info on her — the only recording was from that girl on the bike from before, and she didn’t catch the full fight — but he thought she was pretty cool from what he saw. A bit camera shy, though.

He understood that sort of thing. He’d been pretty anxious whenever the press gathered around when he was younger and less experienced.

Not so much anymore, he was used to it now, even enjoyed it at times, but for someone not used to the attention? It helped having someone there with you for reassurance and guidance.

For him, that had been his mom.

But this girl didn’t look like she HAD anyone.

Adrien flicked through the news channels, trying to devour any info on her, the supervillain, all of this, that he could.

And then-!

“A new wave of panic is sweeping across the capital as dozens of people are mysteriously transformed into stone monsters”

Well.

That wasn’t good.

Ladybug had managed to take down one supervillain by herself (who was apparently a kid named Ivan who didn’t even remember it?) but that many?

With no backup?

The supervillain had grabbed her during the fight. It’d been part of her plan… but with no backup, she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, and that could easily have gone wrong.

That was a lot of pressure to put anyone under, especially a kid who looked no older than himself.

Maybe staying up until midnight, browsing online forums, speculating about Ladybug, the supervillain, and the rock monster clone army hadn’t been his best plan.

Going to bed early might not have made a difference, though, he was too hyped up.

Still, even exhausted, he was determined to give escaping to school another shot…

...Aaaand was quickly shot down. Turned out Gorilla wasn’t going to let him run out there when people were turning into frozen stone monsters. Who knew?

He contemplated trying to turn his bedsheets into a makeshift rope (he’d seen it in several movies and TV shows, it had to work, right?), but eventually scrapped the idea. He may have been climbing the walls of his room, but he wasn’t THAT desperate. Yet.

The superhero Ladybug returned, but her confidence seemed pretty shaken. She stuttered and fidgeted in front of the camera a lot and seemed to wilt under some particularly harsh statements by the police chief.

Which - seriously dude? She was TRYING!

But even as unsure as she seemed, she persevered. When the giant butterfly head man, Hawkmoth, tried to blame her for causing the damage to the city, she snapped. She was NOT taking that crap.

Adrien may have jumped up and down and cheered a few times during her subsequent speech, grinning like an idiot. She was AWESOME! And that Lucky Charm thing? Inspired! He wished he knew more of how that power worked. Did she make the plan and then summon the object? That would make sense but from her look of confusion after summoning it, that didn’t seem quite right.

Sitting back he sighed. He really, REALLY wished he could be there with her.

A door opened behind him.

He turned his head.

And did a double-take.

His FATHER?! Actually coming to speak to him UNPROMPTED?!

That hadn’t happened since-!

...Actually he couldn’t remember the last time that happened. It only ever seemed to coincide with him wanting something from Adrien or chastising him for something or other.

Oh no.

He- he couldn’t be that mad about him running to school yesterday right?

Or- or maybe this was about the box? There was something unusual about it, maybe he just wanted to know more about it? Or tell him what was so important about it?

Probably not that last one.

A hand rested on his shoulder.

“Adrien, there’s something I need to show you.”

-----

His father had a secret passage by his mother’s portrait.

WHAT.

Seriously, when had he had THAT installed?! Was that just part of the house and he’d altered it to work via pressing part of the painting?!

...Were there more?

He’d scoured the house when he was younger, searching for the cool secret passages that all mansions seemed to have in the movies he watched and books he read. Only to come to the depressing conclusion that that was NOT, in fact, an intrinsic quality of mansions.

Might have to rethink that now.

He fidgeted as they descended in the secret elevator (he was still not over that) into some large, underground chamber.

...Okay, he REALLY thought he would’ve noticed this place being excavated, it had to have already been here.

Superheroes, supervillains, secret passages, hidden chambers… he was beginning to think he was dreaming. Or maybe trapped in a comic book.

The elevator came to a halt.

Lights slowly came on as they walked down a long suspended hallway.

At the end? A nature area with grass and bushes, some sort of pod among them, a giant window looming over everything.

Was… was his father part of a secret underground cult?!

Was Adrien supposed to be indoctrinated in as its newest member against his will?

Or was he led here as a human sacrifice?!

Normally he’d calm himself thinking that this was real life and not like, a comic or movie — but considering everything that’d happened in the last twenty-four hours (heck, in the last twenty-four MINUTES), that wasn’t much of a reassurance.

His father turned around as his own steps slowed. “Keep up, my son. I don’t have all day.”

With a shaky breath he willed his feet to move.

It- it probably wasn’t a secret underground death cult.

There’d be more people around, right? Hooded figures in dark cloaks?

Just his father (and maybe Nathalie?) wouldn’t make for much of a cult.

Yeah! So… so there must be a perfectly normal, reasonable explanation for all of this. He didn’t have the slightest idea what that could be, but he was sure it existed!

They came to a stop in front of the pod.

...it looked entirely too much like a coffin.

He’s not using me as a human sacrifice, he’s not using me as a human sacrifice, HE’S NOT USING ME AS A HUMAN SACRIFICE-

“When I- when I told you that your mother passed away… I may not have been entirely truthful.”

Wh-what?!

But that meant-!

“She’s alive?!”

His father simply moved forwards and pressed a button on the pod.

The cover opened.

Adrien forgot how to breathe.

He hadn’t seen her for two months.

Hadn’t expected to see her ever again outside of portraits, photos, and films.

And yet, here she was.

But she wasn’t moving. No medical equipment was attached to her either.

He tore his gaze away from her. He needed to know. To read his father’s expression and know he wasn’t lying. “She’s ALIVE, right?!”

Father gave a slow nod. “She’s in a magical coma… but she isn’t dead.”

...Magical?

“How…?”

Father stared forwards, lost in thought.

A moment later he sighed. “She used a magical artifact she shouldn’t have, did something she should not have done… and paid the price for it.”

Turning around, his father turned his attention back to Adrien. “You gave me half of the cure. With your help we can acquire the other half and save her.”

Gave him half?

The box!

“Was that why Nathalie was so insistent on taking that box? What was it?”

“It contained a powerful magical artifact known as a ‘Miraculous’.”

Adrien frowned. He’d heard that term before. “That’s the thing the evil butterfly man wants, right?”

Father scowled. “She should’ve just handed it over. That pesky little girl doesn’t know what she’s doing!”

Something about that — his tone, his body language, his words — caused Adrien to take a step back.

“Father?” he asked cautiously. “What do you mean? How would that help you? What does Hawkmoth wanting Ladybug’s Miraculous have to do with anything?”

Adrien had a bad feeling about this.

In answer, his father took off his candy cane-striped tie, revealing the purple jewel underneath.

“Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!”

A purple light flashed over him.

Leaving a man in a silver helmet and purple coat, a butterfly shaped jewel on his chest.

WHAT?!

Wildly, Adrien’s mind cast back through the extraordinary things he’d seen in the last few minutes, the secret passages, the underground chamber, his mom in a coma; all kept secret from the world.

All being recast in light of this new information.

They weren’t signs his father was part of a cult.

The secret passage, the underground chamber — both part of a secret evil lair.

And his mother being in a coma?

The hero refusing to give up an item that could cure her?

He’d seen this sort of thing before.

Sometimes the villain wanted an item, wanted something from the hero for a good cause.

But there was often a good reason the hero would fight tooth and nail to prevent them from acquiring it.

“Ladybug’s Miraculous, when combined with the Black Cat Miraculous, will allow me to save her.”

That was frustratingly vague.

“How? What do you need to do? What are the risks, the consequences?”

His father looked down on him. “I thought you missed her. That you wanted her back. What a poor excuse for a son you are.”

“No! Of course I-!”

“Do you wish for her to remain like this forever?”

“No I just-!”

“That Miraculous is the only thing standing in the way of reviving her. We MUST retrieve it.”

“We…?”

His father took a small box out of his coat.

A very familiar box.

Being held right in front of him.

“Open it.”

It wasn’t a request.

Gingerly he opened the lid.

A small black ring with a green glowing pawprint sat in the middle.

“Put it on.”

Swallowing hard, he did as his father commanded.

A light shot out.

“Wah-!”

It dimmed, revealing a small black catlike creature.

Who shook himself, looked around-

And locked eyes with his father.

“LET ME GO THIS INSTANT, YOU TERRIBLE EXCUSE FOR-!”

“I forbid you from speaking.”

The creature's mouth vanished.

“MMMMM! MMmm- MMMM!”

“Ah… much better.”

Adrien just stared, slack-jawed.

“Father, what did you just- what did you just DO?!”

“I shut up an annoying pest. If he insists on misbehaving and acting out, he no longer gets the privilege of having the ability to do so.”

WHAT.

Adrien opened his mouth to protest… and then shut it.

If he spoke up, ‘acted out’... would his father do the same thing?

He didn’t think his mouth could be sealed off.

But he wasn’t certain of it.

And there were plenty of other things he could do to him.

Suddenly, he was VERY acutely aware of how much bigger, how much taller his father was than him.

How much stronger.

Would Father ever hurt him?

Before today he’d have said ‘no, of course not’.

Now he wasn’t so sure. He certainly paid no mind to hurting others.

The small cat creature gave his father a death glare, making gestures he guessed would be extremely rude if his forearms had actual fingers to gesticulate with.

“That,” his father pointed at the cat, “is a Kwami. They give the owners of their Miraculous powers. Simply say ‘Plagg, transform me’ and he will be sucked into the ring, much like what happened with my own kwami earlier. Each grants special powers unique to their Miraculous on top of the standard super strength, endurance, and agility. The Black Cat Miraculous gives the power of destruction; simply say ‘Cataclysm’ and you’ll be able to destroy anything you touch. But since you are a child, you will detransform five minutes later, same as that accursed Ladybug.”

He could transform?

Gain superpowers like Ladybug?

Become a superhero?!

He glanced at Plagg.

The kwami’d gone still, simply looking at him with lidded, narrow eyes, mouth still missing.

No. Not a superhero. Not while under Father’s control.

A superVILLAIN.

He swallowed hard.

He wanted to have superpowers, to run around the city, to fight and be free.

But if he had to be a supervillain, he’d rather not have powers at all.

Hesitantly he grasped the ring, slowly pulling it off.

Too late, his father spoke up. “I wouldn’t do-”

The ring was off his finger.

Plagg dropped like a rock.

“WHA-!”

Dropping to his hands and knees he cupped his hands around the violently twisting tiny creature.

His eyes bugged out as he spasmed wildly, flailing uncontrollably.

If he’d had a mouth, Adrien was sure he’d be screaming.

“What’s wrong with him?!”

“You activated my failsafe,” Father replied. “I wouldn’t want you just leaving the ring lying around. Best you keep it on at all times, unless I allow you to remove it.”

His father did this? INTENTIONALLY?!

Ok, ok, don’t panic! Prioritize. The failsafe activated because he took the ring off, it was meant to incentivize him keeping it on at all times, so…

Fumbling around, he put the ring back on one of his shaking fingers.

Instantly, Plagg relaxed, sinking into his palm, eyes half-closed.

This… this little creature was at his father’s mercy.

And it didn’t seem like Father had much of that.

“F-father?” he said, looking up at him.

Quickly, he dropped his eyes. Best not to seem like a threat, like he was challenging him.

Maybe Father would assert his dominance by taking it out on him.

Or maybe he'd just take it out on Plagg.

“Please. Please, could you return Plagg’s mouth to him?”

“Hmmph. Perhaps later, provided that he’s well-behaved. Keep him under control or else I’ll do so myself. Right now, I have a task for you.”

That normally would not sound ominous.

Normally, his father would not say that after revealing he was a supervillain and torturing someone.

“Yes, Father.”

His father smiled.

Adrien’s spine stiffened.

“Transform. Let me see what you can do.”

----

Left. Right. Dodge. Jump.

OOPH

He wasn’t used to being caned in the stomach.

It didn’t hurt much — the Miraculous was pretty protective as it turned out — but it was still a pretty harsh impact.

While he was off-balance Father hit him again, sending him flying into a wall.

And again.

Each time before he could even begin to recover.

Father walked over to him as he lay on the ground, struggling to get up.

Adrien braced himself for another hit.

“I expect better from you. As an Agreste, and as my son.”

He turned his back to him. “We will spar every day until you can put up even a paltry fight. I cannot have you putting up such an embarrassing performance.”

Every day?

This was going to be EVERY DAY?!

He understood training. Understood the need to practice to get better. But training was supposed to include guidance, helpful tricks, being shown a few moves. Not just being beaten by a stronger, more experienced opponent.

He grit his teeth. “Yes, Father.”

“You need to be stronger if you are to take Ladybug’s Miraculous. If we are to heal your mother.”

Mom…

He looked over at her, still peacefully sleeping, entirely unaware of everything that had happened.

If she knew, would she be okay with this?

An hour ago, he would’ve choked at the thought and yelled ‘Of course not!’

He knew his parents after all.

But finding out how little he truly knew his father made him doubt.

His father glanced at him. “You may leave for now. Tomorrow, you go out in the field. Do NOT disappoint.”

As he made his way to the elevator, he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. “Not while transformed. Say ‘detransform’ to release it.”

“Detransform!”

Plagg spiraled out of the ring.

His mouth was still gone, but he seemed in better shape than he was right after being tortured, at least.

Oh god, Adrien didn’t want to risk accidentally upsetting his father but-

“I- I think Plagg’s learned his lesson. Please Father?”

He rested his gaze on Adrien for a moment. Then-

“Very well. But if there’s one peep out of him...”

“Thank you, Father.”

He snapped his fingers.

Plagg’s mouth came back. He opened and closed it many times as if testing that it’d truly returned.

“Y-”

NOPE.

Quickly snatching Plagg out of the air, Adrien ran for the elevator.

------

If he ever got his paws on that candy-cane son of a bitch…!

Plagg floated wildly around the room.

Well. For certain values of ‘around’. That complete and utter BASTARD had decided that in addition to preventing Plagg from harming him, from interacting with anything or anyone else except for eating food, and forcing him to hide whenever others were around, he was ALSO on a leash.

Five feet.

He couldn’t wander more than five feet away from his Miraculous.

And since that- that torture spell would take effect the minute his ring slipped off of his Holder’s finger, that meant he was, in effect, tied to staying within five feet of Adrien.

Adrien…

He didn’t really know what to make of the boy just yet.

His father? Very clear opinion on him.

But his son didn’t exactly seem thrilled with Candy-butt’s actions.

Just his luck. OF COURSE the ‘dark power’ Wayzz had sensed had stumbled on his Miraculous. Naturally.

He may have been the Kwami of Destruction, but sometimes it felt like he was the Kwami of Bad Luck instead.

Not that assholes getting their hands on him was entirely new, but well, usually they weren’t quite as well-versed in putting up safeguards to stop him from stealing his Miraculous back, or in extreme cases, Cataclysming their asses.

He hadn’t even been activated when the curses were applied. Which hey, on the upside, meant he didn’t have to feel them taking effect! ...On the downside, it meant he didn’t know exactly what the curses were or how many of them there were. Some of them he’d been told about, others he’d figured out for himself, but… there could still be others. He hadn’t known about the “torture if ring is removed” curse until Adrien actually did it.

Not that that would STOP him from looking for loopholes, but well… not right now. He’d been through quite enough pain already without risking stumbling across a curse that would activate the torture again.

He shuddered.

Kwamis by themselves rarely got hurt. But when a Holder transformed, fusing the two of them together, he’d feel the same pain as the Holder.

The only time he’d felt pain that bad, his Holder had had the brilliant idea to extend his staff upwards a few thousand feet into a stormcloud, just to see what would happen.

They’d both been okay afterwards, but being electrocuted hurt.

“So, uh… is there anything you want to do? Or talk about? Or- or not do, whatever you feel like!”

Plagg blinked.

Adrien looked around awkwardly. “I know this isn’t exactly ideal and it sucks and I’m so, so sorry, but is there anything I can do to help?”

“...Camembert.”

“What?”

“Camembert cheese. The stinkier, the better.”

The kid made a face, but nodded.

------

Thirty minutes and a trip down to the kitchen later, Plagg was completely surrounded with the delectable aroma of smelly, smelly cheese.

Adrien looked about ready to gag, but gave an attempt at a smile whenever he looked over at him.

A small part of Plagg got some satisfaction out of the kid’s discomfort. At least, he wasn’t the only one suffering because of the five-foot leash.

“Do you want to watch anything?”

Plagg stifled a laugh. Kid’s nose was still wrinkled up from the cheese’s fumes and his eyes watered slightly, but he was making a valiant effort to pretend he was fine.

As far as TV went… well. He hadn’t left the Miracle Box much and Fu’s taste in shows was pretty dull, so-”

“Whatever you feel like. Unless it has to do with cheese, I don’t care. ...IS there a cheese TV show?”

“...I’ll check the guide.”

#enemies au #ml fanfic #Miraculous ladybug #let it be enough to reach the truth that lies #love square #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

Text

♫ Surfing on a soundwave, Swinging through the stars, Take a left at your intestine, Take your second right past mars!

On the Magic School smelly space bus! ♫

SPOILERS for Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow #2!

This is a comic where, the longer I sit with a particular issue, the more I’m like, ‘yeah. Yeah. YEAH.’

It’s dense in a way that invites the reader to go through it multiple times, and rewards additional readthroughs.

Also, it helps that the art is FREAKING AMAZING.

Seriously. Evely and Lopes should draw and color everything, forever, always.

(I will honestly be shocked if they don’t get an Eisner nom for this book.)

Anyways, all of this to say: Another issue that I enjoyed. It has one of the most genuinely sweet Supergirl moments I’ve seen in the comics in a good long while.

So, if you’re looking for a quick thumbs up/thumbs down rating, thumbs up!

If you’d like some SPECIFICS, though...

THE STORY

King is an evil genius because we don’t pick up where we left off--rather, we start in the midst of the Space Bus journey.

There is technically a Big Action Scene, but I was honestly surprised by how...casually? the story progressed.

Essentially: Kara and Ruthye are forced to travel by bus because 1.) Krem stole Kara’s rocket and 2.) this corner of the universe doesn’t have the right stars, so Kara’s still recovering from being under a red sun for an extended period of time.

The bus makes occasional stops; they encounter a space dragon; Kara takes some Red Kryptonite and saves the day; they eventually arrive on a planet with a yellow sun.

And again, all of this occurs with a kind of...breezy ease that I was not expecting at all.

I assumed that the space dragon fight would make up the final moments of the issue, after having built up the problem to a point where Kara needed to intervene.

But, noooope. The space dragon happens somewhere in the middle, which helps sell the central idea that this is simply Kara’s life. She’s been there, done that. She’s a badass who takes it all in stride.

But! Important to note! Ruthye still marvels at the sight of Kara taking out the space dragon, as well she should, because:

OH MY GOD. THE aRT.

There’s only so many times I can say, ‘it’s phenomenal, it’s gorgeous, it’s stunning’ before sounding like a broken record.

But it is. It truly is. This is the prettiest monthly book on the stands right now.

(Realizing I’ve been spelling Ruthye wrong this entire time, maybe? IDK. Apologies if I have.)

It’s in the final moments of the book that we learn what transpired after Krem shot Kara and Krypto and fled: Kara managed to get Krypto and Ruthye to a healer, and then passed out for a week.

Ruthye and Kara recovered, buuuuut...

Krypto is still very near death because the arrow was poisoned.

The healer can’t treat him until he has a sample of the poison.

Which Krem has.

(See where this is going?)

So! Kara regains her powers! Ruthye has a super on her side! KRYPTO’S LIFE HANGS IN THE BALANCE!

Gimme. Issue. 3. STAT.

THE CHARACTERS

Very much enjoyed Ruthye in this issue!

There’s a really tricky balancing act you gotta pull off when writing child characters; you don’t want to just write them as tiny adults, but you also don’t want to be obnoxious or cloying in trying to write ‘true-to-age.’

King gives himself a bit of a cheat, by setting her up as a rock farmer from a...what would you call it. An old-fashioned planet? And thus the kind of character who had to ‘grow up fast’ and behaves more maturely than your typical pre-teen might.

BUT! IMPORTANTLY! This is tempered by placing Ruthye in situations where her (understandable) ignorance is challenged/put to the test. Like, yes, she is mature, and well-spoken, and utterly tenacious, but she’s also out of her depth, and still in need of help and guidance.

(Which is how we get to The Best Scene which I’ll get to in just a sec.)

TL;DR - this issue has really sold me on Ruthye as our POV character and I am officially Invested in the relationship between her and Kara.

Speaking of...

It’s KARA-CTERIZATION TIME!

So, okay. There’s some ‘eh’ stuff in this one, but, BUT!

We got the goods again.

And by ‘goods’ I mean this:

Whatever other nitpicks I have (and I do! Have one! Which I’ll get to!) THIS. This right here! This is Supergirl. This is Kara.

And what a beautiful line to introduce this moment:

“And it began--as most things begin when you’re dealing with Supergirl--with a moment of kindness.”

It’s the same gentle concern we saw in the previous issue, where Kara knelt down to address Ruthye eye-to-eye.

Here, Kara’s facial expression, and the way she takes Ruthye’s hands and shows her what to do...

It’s just. SO SWEET.

Ahhhhh it’s so good. :D

So good! In fact! That the above scene offsets my one complaint, which is that Kara came off as harsh, IMO, when addressing the bus passengers, looking for Red K.

Other good stuff from this particular portion of the book: we get Kryptonese (maybe? I think?) And a mention of Kara’s mother being strict about certain things, which is in keeping with the 2000s series version of Alura.

Ruthye also asks if Kara ever tried to avenge the death of her family/culture and she says no; Ruthye says that she heard a lifetime of regret in Kara’s response, which I suppose could be read one of two ways:

1.) That she regrets her choice not to avenge them, or 2.) that she regrets not having the option to avenge them, as there was no one person to punch, no single action that could rectify the destruction of the entire planet.

I personally prefer the second reading.

Which I suppose contradicts the recent-ish “Killers of Krypton” arc, but who knows what is and isn’t canon anymore, honestly. XD

As for the rest of the issue! I found myself thinking of a Grant Morrison interview, actually.

Morrison apparently met a Superman cosplayer at a con and that’s when the character clicked for them: “[The superman cosplayer] was so in the character, but what really got me was the way he was sitting. It was this absolutely relaxed pose with one knee up and the arm bent over, and that’s what broke Superman for me. Suddenly I realized that Superman wouldn’t be a poser, he wouldn’t be a Muscle Beach steroid guy; he’d actually be completely relaxed because nothing could hurt him. He could be so open and friendly to everyone because no one can punch him or hurt him. He can’t get a cold, or be damaged by anything you’re carrying or wearing. For me that was the power of that, whether you want to frame it as magical or not, it actually informed the stories I wanted to write. I felt I understood him in a way I hadn’t until that moment.”

That’s always stuck with me, the idea that Clark would be the most at-ease, chill guy you'd ever talk to.

And THAT, I think, is what we’re seeing here with Kara. That at-ease-ness.

But in a way that is distinct from Clark! In the above quote, it’s clear that Morrison thinks it’s Clark’s powers that are the reason he can be so relaxed and at ease.

But Kara is de-powered here. So why is she so chill?

Because Kara is an alien.

Kara’s in her element, here. She’s used to space travel, she knows the ins-and-outs, she’s not shocked by any of the weird stuff they encounter on their journey.

Love it. LOVE. IT.

I am SO GLAD that King decided to go with Kara being the wizened mentor, as opposed to the naïve kid learning to be tough. It’s a much more interesting angle, IMO.

Also NO MENTION OF RIVALRY BETWEEN KARA AND CLARK. WOO. LET’S KEEP THIS ROLLIN’.

Alright, last, but certainly not least:

THE GOOD BOY! KRYPTO!

When I tell you I stress-read this entire comic first thing in the morning...XD

And I am STILL stressed. And a little sad that Krypto doesn’t get to go on another space adventure but! This is MIGHTY PREFERABLE to what I *thought* was going to happen, which is that Krypto would die from his injuries, and Kara would likewise be out for revenge.

Fortunately, that is not the case!

So like, the stakes?!?! Suddenly sky high. Find that dirtbag Krem and GET THAT POISON BACK TO THE HEALER!!

ART and MISC. STUFF THAT I LOVE

I generally don’t like to post entire pages of a comic, or panels without context, but the...reach? of this blog is extremely limited so. I think we’ll be okay. XD

So, alright! Some moments that I particularly enjoyed!

One of the panels that Mat Lopes shared early on!

I want this lettered version on a mug.

(Also she looks very ’Grace Kelly-ish’ here.)

Love Kara’s facial expression and her line about space travel being more fun when you can fly.

From the same portion of the book--such a neat detail that Kara keeps her cash in her sleeve!

Another set of panels that I think Tom King shared a few months back.

Love Kara’s little smirk, and the, “I’m wearing a big yellow S on my chest, and a very fashionable red skirt.”

It IS fashionable. WE SUPPORT THE SKIRT, IN THIS HOUSE.

Also the slrrrrrrp. XD

It’s good.

Okay, 1.) VERY COOL SCI-FI DESIGN and 2.) that line is great. “Can you feel it, Ruthye? We’re getting closer. The stars are changing.”

Mmmm, them good cosmic Kara vibes.

Kara’s attitude about the Red K here is fun, like, ‘WELP, sometimes you turn into a monster, sometimes you don’t!’ but again, the line is what gets me.

“Did my hair move?”

“I do not believe so.”

Honestly? I could post the whole comic here. Evely’s vision of ‘public transit, but space’ is just so immediately...not ‘real’, necessarily, because there’s such a fantastical element to it all, but it is fully realized. I think I used the phrase ‘lived-in’ and that’s it--this world feels like it has always existed; every grimy nook and cranny, every rando space bus traveler.

And Mat Lopes’ colors!

There are like, five distinct color palettes at work in this issue, and Lopes handles them all masterfully.

I think my favorite is the...I’ll call it ‘ethereal space aquarium’ lighting in the bus as they view the space dragon.

The glow and the shadows and the blues and pinks...

GGGGGGGGAAAHHHHHHHHHH so goooooooood

So, yeah. :D

I am very much enjoying this weird, wild ride with small, precocious Ruthye and wizened, crusty Kara. XD There’s some stuff that I don’t *love* but my goodness, it could be a lot worse!

Let us end on the beautiful title page:

#long post #supergirl: woman of tomorrow #supergirl: woman of tomorrow spoilers #dc comics #kara zor el #comic thoughts #comic opinions

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 3 years

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TATMILB, CHAPTER 6

Penelope spent her life writing love letters, which didn’t seem like a terrible idea until the letters were mailed out and Schneider received one of them. Hoping to fool their exes, they agree to fake a relationship. But are they lying to everyone around them, or to themselves? aka my To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before-inspired AU.

Penelope x Schneider, ODAAT. available on ao3 with extra author’s notes.

Chapter 6: Penelope and Schneider reveal their new relationship to Lydia and Alex, but Penelope decides not to tell Elena. When Schneider arrives to take Penelope out, he interrupts their videochat.

“Okay you two,” Lydia said before Penelope had even shut the door behind them all. She threw both arms out, a human barrier to any member of the family moving past her spot in the living room. “Tell me what is going on right now.”

“Abuelita? What’s going on?”

Alex’d had a good game, so while the silence on the way home was been tense, it didn’t prepare him for whatever was currently happening.

“That is what we are going to find out, Papito. Your Mami and Schneider, they are...I do not know what they are, but they are something. They have been keeping it a secret from us!”

“Keeping...what a secret?”

“They kissed! While you were at the bat.”

“Aw, man! I got a great hit off that last pitch. You missed it?” He looked at their guilty faces before catching up.

“Wait. You kissed?!? Like, the two of you?” He pointed to his mom. “You and Schneider?”

“Yes. Okay. Yes, we did.”

“We didn’t want the family to find out this way,” Schneider interjected, trying to take some of the pressure off her. She shot him a grateful look. Plus, what he was saying was true. Technically.

“Yeah. I know this might be a surprise, but Schneider and I are...dating.” She reached over and held his hand. “And I’m sure that you will both have lots of opinions about that, but we’re all free until dinner so you know what? Go for it. Let’s get it all out there.”

Schneider took the cushion next to her, their hands still clasped, and Lydia watched them for another moment before she shook her head.

“Eh.”

Penelope gaped at her mom as Lydia waved her hands dismissively and went into the kitchen to fix Alex a snack.

Even more alarmingly, her son looked ready to follow her. “Alex!” Penelope gestured at him, then at the floor near the couch, calling him back. “You don’t have anything you want to ask, or say?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Okay.” She stared at Schneider, eyes wide and helpless.

“You’re not, I don’t know, surprised?” he ventured.

“No. Should I be?”

Alex, with the usual level of cool radiating off of him, shifted in his baseball cleats and rolled his eyes. “You’re always hugging and stuff, and you’re already in the family. It kind of felt inevitable.”

Lydia was vocalizing in the kitchen to mambo music, but she waved a wooden spoon in agreement with Alex’s words before returning to the stove.

As soon as Alex headed to his room to change and her Mami’s back was turned, Penelope snatched her hand away. What the hell was wrong with her family? What was she supposed to do with that reaction?

Schneider looked as baffled as she felt, and sat silently beside her, scrolling on his phone until dinner.

Lydia waited until the food was ready before she returned to the subject.

“So, mija. Does Elena know?”

“About--oh.” Nice job, Penelope. If you’re going to have a fake boyfriend, maybe try to make it seem like you remember that. “No, Mami, I haven’t told her yet. I didn’t want to tell her such big news in a text. It can wait 'til the next time we videochat.”

It could wait forever, she thought, shrinking from the very idea of that conversation. Alex was perpetually in his own world--as long as the people he loved were okay, he was content to leave them alone and do his own thing. But Elena had opinions. She was affected by the lives and the choices of everyone around her, and this involved two of the most stable adult presences in her world.

It had seemed like a much better idea before Penelope really thought about how it could rock Elena’s foundations. Telling her that her mom and Schneider were dating? Lying to her, to tell her that?

It was horrible.

Unless...what if Penelope said nothing at all?

Elena didn’t have to be baffled and shocked, or upset over being kept out of the loop like her Abuelita, if she never knew it was happening. The contract could be over before she came home from her semester away; she would hear about it secondhand and Penelope could explain it then.

The only other kind way to handle it would be to tell Elena the truth, Penelope knew, to make her the one person who knew it was all a sham.

Hi baby, how’s London? Have you seen the big clock yet? Is it really that big? Oh yeah, by the way, I’m dating Schneider now, in case your brother or your Abuelita happen to mention that in one of your texts or conversations.

Yeah, I know that sounds crazy. You probably feel really confused, but I have good news for you, it’s all fake!!

That’s right. It’s an elaborate conspiracy that Schneider and I came up with over ice cream and baseball because I wanted to avoid Max and he needed to make Nikki jealous.

She sighed and shook her head, tucking that conundrum away until Sunday, when she and Elena had already planned to talk. Maybe when they got on the call, she would know what to do.

****

By the time her phone buzzed on Sunday evening, Penelope had begun to worry Elena wasn't going to call.

“Hey, Mom,” her daughter said, beaming through the tiny screen. “Sorry, I know I’m late. I just realized I got the time zones off--still working on that.”

“Baby, it’s fine. I'm just happy to see you. Tell me everything about your week. How are your classes? What have you gotten to see? What do you think of the food?”

Elena laughed. “Slow down! I can only answer one question at a time. Let’s see, my classes are good. Really interesting, a totally different style than I’m used to--but in a fun way. I’m still having to catch myself when I start to panic, about being so out of my element. I think I’m doing okay though.”

“That’s good. You’re supposed to have fun, not just try to ace your classes,” Penelope agreed. “Not that you should be aiming for less than acing your classes!”

Striking that balance between encouragement and adding to her daughter’s anxious tendencies was still a work-in-progress, Penelope thought to herself, smiling at Elena. “I miss you, mija.”

“I miss you too--all of you. We went on a tour this week,” she added, with no attempt at a segue.

It was refreshing to see Elena overflowing with excitement, unable to hold it all in--a welcome change from her glum mood since her breakup. Penelope nodded along.

“A tour of what?”

“Oh, well, it was with my Religious History class, so it was a lot of old religious buildings, mostly. Landmarks and functioning spaces. Alex would have hated it, there wasn’t a single good selfie backdrop. But I had a blast. We saw Southwark Cathedral!”

“Ah. Cool,” she said, trying to remember if she should know what that was.

“It’s from Doctor Who, Mom.” Elena’s quirked lips were patronizing, but only a little. “The Tenth Doctor was there in an episode, and I couldn’t believe how big it seemed even in person. You expect movie magic, you know? But it was just...really cool.”

The quiet awe in her tone carried through the videochat. Apparently her daughter was in fact picking up culture and independent experiences overseas, just like she was supposed to. Penelope ignored the pang of separation in response and focused on the pride underneath it.

“So you went to a Doctor Who church, where else?”

“It’s not a Doctor Who church, Mom, there’s no such thing. Though if there were, I’d seriously consider joining. Sadly, none of the other spots on the tour were show locations, at least not today. I’m pretty sure the exchange student group events will do more of the classic tourist stuff while we’re here. Which should cover some Who basics. Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, London Eye...”

She trailed off, looking away from the screen.

“Is somebody there? Do you need to go?”

“No.” Elena shook her head. “No, I’m fine. How are you, by the way? You aimed so many questions at me, I want to know what I’ve been missing.”

Penelope had already decided to keep the conversation focused on Elena, to avoid any slip-ups about her new arrangement with Schneider. But with the way Elena was focused slightly past her, eyes a little glassy, she had a good reason to now.

“You’re not missing anything, everything’s boring and the same here. Your Abuelita may be planning to turn your bedroom into a shoe closet, but I’ll hold her off until you get back. Don’t try to change the subject though--I can see you, Elena. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mom. I just had a second where, well...the London Eye is one of Syd’s bucket list items. They--we--talked about it a lot. Before. I think seeing it on the tour with the other exchange kids is going to be hard.”

She held back a sympathetic sigh, remembering how much it hurt to lose someone at Elena’s age. Even her last adult breakup was so hard that it was still haunting her.

“Oh, honey, I understand. Breakups come with moments like that, I promise. It’s normal.”

“I really would rather talk about anything else. Please.”

”Okay.” It had been so easy for her Mami to make Penelope’s relationship woes worse without even meaning to, when she was a teenager. Now that she was the mom, treading lightly was the best she could do. “Why don’t you tell me about the food, then?”

Elena was in the middle of describing a dinner she’d had at a pub called The Ivy House when Schneider opened Penelope’s bedroom door.

”Hello, privacy!” she snapped at him, tugging a throw blanket over her toes as though he’d caught her in a compromised position. Really, she was just startled. Schneider never knocked on the front door but he still knocked on her door, most of the time. He wasn’t completely oblivious to boundaries.

”Hello, person who didn’t respond to my texts,” he replied, unfazed. “Hello, Elena.”

”Hey Schneider.” She waved across the continents, matching his grin.

”In case it escaped your attention,” Penelope pointed out, “I haven’t replied to--or read yet--your texts, because we were busy catching up.”

”Well, it’s not like you told me,” he said. “Six messages, Pen. I thought maybe you were standing me up.”

She froze, aiming her coldest look his way but keeping it below a glare that Elena could catch long-distance and wonder about.

“Ha, very funny. Of course I’m not standing you up,” she said, hoping Elena would interpret that to mean if I were, it could mean we’d planned a date, which is a funny and impossible idea while Schneider would know she meant something else entirely.

”Hey, gimme the phone,” he said, ignoring Penelope’s careful parsing of words and taking her pocket-sized daughter right out of her hands.

”How’s life in jolly old England?” Schneider asked Elena, his gaze flicking to Penelope, who started gesturing wildly as soon as Elena was out of sight.

Do. Not. Tell. Her. She mouthed, punctuating the words with a mimed zipping of her lips. He watched her and then went back to chatting with Elena with no reaction at all, leaving Penelope panicking. Leave it to Schneider to let the secret out. It would be even worse if Elena found out from him when Penelope had completely avoided the subject, wouldn’t it? Maybe she should come clean now, while he was there. Safety in numbers.

”Yeah, your mom and I are gonna go grab dinner,” she heard him say, and she squeezed her hands into fists, calming down on purpose. “There’s this place on Sunset I wanna try.”

”It’s a vegan hipster place, isn’t it?” Elena fake-groaned through the phone, like he was still the most embarrassing adult she had ever met. “Schneider, organic local food is fantastic, but you have got to start looking outside the box for places that aren’t trendy. You know where I had dinner last night?”

Penelope took advantage of that moment to snatch her phone back. “And as I’ve heard this story already, I think now might be a good time to say goodnight, honey. You can talk Schneider’s ear off about the superiority of legacy recipes and family-owned bars another time. Preferably while I am very far away.”

”I’ll have you know, though,” Schneider interjected, leaning over so his face was partly in the frame next to Penelope’s, “that we’re getting Italian tonight. Your mom has very kindly agreed to give me her opinion cuz I’m still trying to find a new Italian fave ever since La Vite Blu had that little rat problem.”

”Ew, your old favorite place used to have rats?” Elena shuddered.

”No, not rats like the animal. It had ties to the mob, apparently--somebody told the authorities, and bing bang boom, no more La Vite Blu.”

”You are so weird.” Elena swallowed hard, offering them a slightly trembling smile. “You guys have fun at dinner though, okay? If you like it, maybe I can come with next time, when I’m back. I miss you.”

”We miss you too.” Schneider put his arm around Penelope and she leaned back against it a little, comforted. Her baby was so far away, and not all the way grown yet after all.

”Call or text if you need anything, okay? And keep checking in. I love you, Elena.”

”Love you too, Mom. Bye, Schneider.”

The screen went dark, before lighting back up to tell Penelope that she had six text messages.

”Jeez, you weren’t kidding. You know where I live, Schneider...obviously,” she added, gesturing around her bedroom. “There was no need to freak out because it took me a minute to get back to you.”

”I wasn’t freaking out.” He walked away, his voice carrying back to her as he headed for the living room. “I was just trying to make sure we were still on the same page.”

She followed him, still annoyed but unable to articulate why. Was it the barging into her room? Because that was rare, but not unprecedented. Was it the way he told Elena about dinner? Because Elena’s comment about joining them made it seem like she’d missed any possible date implications. And when Penelope thought back, all Schneider said was that they’d be eating dinner together. They did that all the time.

”Well, I have to get ready,” she said, emerging from the hallway to find him standing next to the dining room table.

There were flowers sitting on it. Once he realized she was there, Schneider picked the bouquet up off the table and held it out. “For you.”

“Uh. Thanks.” She glanced around them, then stared back down at the flowers. “You know, nobody can see your romantic gesture, right? Kinda ruins the public effect.”

“Well, it would be a little weird if we walked into the restaurant together and then I handed them to you. But it’s our first date. It seemed appropriate.”

Now he was watching her, she could feel it. Trying to tell if she was about to get upset over his attempt at a nice gesture, Penelope guessed. Her temper tended to hit him harder than the members of her family who shared her quick moods.

She gave in to the desire to lift them to her nose, breathing in for a long moment. They smelled like springtime, if it were springtime in a Disney movie. Sweet, but also earthy.

“I love them,” she said honestly. “Thank you.”

Schneider beamed, bouncing on his heels a little. “You’re welcome.”

“Okay,” she decided, “now I have to get ready and I have to put these in a vase. Give me a few minutes, okay?”

“No problem.”

Schneider sat on her couch in her empty apartment, perfectly at home while Penelope arranged the flowers in the family’s only vase. She was already trying to decide what to wear, now that his flowery touch had her feeling a competitive need to up her own standards. Her mind was so focused on the contents of her closet that she didn’t stop to read the card tucked into the bright bouquet.

Whatever nerves she was now feeling about their first fake date night, it didn’t seem like Schneider shared them. Penelope was pretty sure that as she went back to her room, she heard him pulling up a video on his phone about London’s best lesser-known pubs.

#alvareider #one day at a time #odaat #penelope x schneider #to all the men i've loved before #penelope alvarez #schneider #lydia riera #elena alvarez #alex alvarez #odaat fic #alvareider fic #my fic

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sailorspazz · 4 years

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10 Dance Special Booklet - Taboo and Habanera [English Translation]

I present to you my project of the last few weeks: an English version of the comics that came with the Japanese special edition of vol. 4. (Thanks to @words-unleashed for providing cleaned scans!) Since it’s definitely not Tumblr Safe, the full scanlation can be found at imgur. com/a/HgbwYk1 (sorry to write it out weird, but Tumblr hides posts with external links when you tag search, so just copy and delete the extra spacing and you should be able to access it).

As a bonus, I also made a subtitled version of the track from the drama CDs that includes the “Taboo” portion of the story. The dialogue is mostly the same, with some additions/deletions, but if you want to hear all the steamy action as well as read it, definitely check that out, too. Since it was long, I had to split the video on Tumblr; start with the first half here (or escape this hell site and go to YouTube, where it’s all in one part: youtu.be/ B95vNjt-e6M , again need to copy and delete extra spacing)

Recently, I’ve been working on serious summaries of the chapters that have been released since vol. 5 (starting with #29 part 1). My true nature, though, is to be more snarky and make dumb commentary, so click below if you want a summary of these bonus comics (along with select Tumblr Safe images) where I just poke fun and be thirsty.

So after several volumes of the Shinyas making out without sexing each other, I guess the manga artist was like, “you know what, I’m not gonna have these guys fuck anytime soon (or ever, lol just kidding...or am I?), so I guess I’ll throw some smut crumbs to the poor, deprived shippers.” And we’ll take it and enjoy it, because we’re desperate.

The first story, called “Taboo: Just a bit” continues immediately after chapter 21, where Suzuki said that he’s okay with kissing, but no more! To which Sugiki’s immediate reaction seems to be, “Cool, cool...I’mma go ahead and find a way around that.” Also, he may be a bit insecure about the size of his nipples.

Note: Sugiki’s nipples are important to the plot of this story. I’m dead serious.

Sugiki wonders about Suzuki not seeming to be bothered by him saying he’s adorable, but apparently Suzuki gets called that all the time. And in one of the greatest leaps in logic in history, Sugiki says that, since everyone always found you so precious, surely you and your male friends all touched each other’s naughty bits when you were kids, right? Suzuki’s like, UMM, NO, WHAT THE FU-okay, yeah. yeah, we did. And he assumes, oh, since Sugiki brought this up, he probably did the same thing.

“lol, no, I didn’t do that. But I made you admit that you did.”

Sugiki’s closest experience to something like that was when he was in high school and another boy insulted him, beat him up, and then paid him and said he wanted to suck Sugiki off (quite the roller coaster, but okay). Suzuki’s like, oh shit, that sounds super fucked up, sorry to make you remember that, but Sugiki actually used the situation to his advantage by using the boy to develop his own skills. Those skills involved whipping the other kid with a stick, and teasing him with the fact that he never actually agreed to what he proposed.

Baby sadist in training.

Look at this man. That is all.

So as Sugiki uses their childhood experiences as a flimsy excuse to propose some dick touching, Suzuki notices something shocking: Sugiki’s nipples are hard!

Suzuki Needs An Adult after making this discovery. And he’s so distracted by those sexy nips that he isn’t able to stop Sugiki from making a grab at his dick. Which, as it turns out, is a bit stiff.

Top 10 Manga Betrayals: Suzuki’s dick getting hard from man nips.

Suzuki stays in panic mode for a bit, and when he snaps out of it he finds that his dick is no longer in his pants, but in Sugiki’s hand.

He protests a bit, but then is like, fine, I guess I’ll let you jerk me off. And goes back to thinking about those nips and how bad he wants to bite them and squeeze them, and also how he’d really like to just fuck Sugiki for good measure, too.

But as for the eternal question of who would be fucking who, Sugiki tries slipping a finger in to test the waters.

Which results in a big fat NOPE from Suzuki, so Sugiki just keeps jerking him until he gets off, getting just a mini facial as a splash lands near his mouth (we don’t see him lick it...but you know he wanted to).

As they’re getting ready to leave the studio, Suzuki brings up the “adorable” conversation from before, saying he’d imagine no one calls Sugiki that. Sugiki confirms that’s true, and Suzuki responds with:

Look at this man. That is all (again).

The second story, called Habanera, shows us what the Shinyas do when they’re each home alone. Suzuki, in a desperate attempt to prove his straightness to himself, is planning a porn marathon.

Meanwhile, Sugiki plans to watch a special DVD that features Suzuki doing a Q&A session. Which, for him, we can assume is the equivalent of watching porn.

A look at Suzuki’s selections. Bruh, I don’t mean to kinkshame, but...pig farm?

Just as he’s about to get started, he gets a call from some random chick he used to bang. He has no desire to chat, though, and hangs up on her, but while jabbing at his phone, he accidentally hits Sugiki’s speed dial, and quickly disconnects in a panic.

Rocking the Winnie the Pooh look here with his red shirt and no pants. Also, there are helpful warnings throughout the story whenever his (heavily mosaiced) dick is on panel.

Meanwhile, Sugiki is watching DVD-Suzuki talk about how to wink while dancing, and it’s making him feel A Lot Of Things

Back at the fap shack, Suzuki claims that just seeing Sugiki’s name made him go limp, because, you know, he’s Definitely Not Attracted To Him. He talks to his dick, trying to get it to firm up again. His dick has a girl’s name (Machiko) and is shown in some shots as having a face and wearing a little bow (yes, it’s as weird as it sounds. no, I can’t show it here).

The next video he has queued up starts, and well, I guess this is that pig farm stuff he’s into (which really just seems to be a domme lady berating the viewer)

Back at Sugiki’s, DVD-Suzuki has moved on to teaching how to blow kisses.

Yeah, this is definitely porn for Sugiki. And as he watches this he’s a bit miffed that it seems like Suzuki acts a lot cooler when they’re not together.

Meanwhile, Suzuki’s fantasizing about the sexy lady dominating him...except, the person in his fantasy starts to change from a porn star to...

Oh look, the man he’s Definitely Not Attracted To happens to show up in his fantasy while he’s beating off. He tries to make the image go away, but then eventually settles for keeping the face but having the rest of the body be the porn star.

Sugiki is practicing his kiss-blowing with DVD-Suzuki as his imaginary partner. And when he finds out that there are other DVDs like this one, he quickly starts searching for the back issues of these pornographic very educational videos.

After Suzuki shamefully blows his load to the thought of the Sugiki-faced female porn star, his phone starts ringing. It’s Sugiki, returning the call he accidentally placed earlier. Though to Suzuki, the timing feels suspiciously like Sugiki had been watching him or something...

#10 dance #10dance

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aperfecttimeforscreaming · 4 years

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AN EXCHANGE OF MEAT

Late valentines day ZADR drabble, extremely nsfw, takes place in the #izspacetrash universe NSFW 18+ Warning: Petplay, Zussy, Choking, Power play, Power theft, Over-stimulation, flirtatious bullying

Back on Irk, coupling is illegal. It’s a big deal for humans because they can’t name a rock without forming an emotional attachment, for Irkens however, there’s no reason for the law to even be in place. As a species we have evolved past the need to interact with others. Every individual in the empire has the potential to be a sturdy, self sustaining island unto themselves. We’re built better than every sentient stain in all the known everything!! We have YET to encounter anything that even compares to our size and MIGHT. The last fertile cluster of Irkens died out a thousand decades ago. Every irken is cloned and easily replaced if not functioning at maximum capacity.

So, the desire to do more than indulge yourself is...low. There’s no reason to involve another irken in the matters of ones…..self congratulation.The practice of an EMOTIONAL and spiritual coupling fell out of favor long before we learned to control our natural impulses.

If this is all true (and it is), how can I feel so much for the vicious neanderthal that calls me his? Dib was working on one of his drones as I sat in the dark pocket of the lower bunk bed, the bed itself built into the wall of a home on wheels. Dibs white rectangular fat assed Arr Vee was parked behind a dunky doughnuts so that we could stay out of the sightline of main roads and siphon power to recharge the vehicles battery. See, the outside of Dibs roaming home looks like any other shitty old caravan. In fact, it is more like Dib’s own mobile base. The battered shell outside the chrome and black and blue innards of the crisp sterile mobile lab are no more than a clever disguise. An infuriatingly smart trick. It’s a trick wrapped around stolen Irken technology and it’s to our collective benefit that everything stays hidden. It’s more comfortable being a prisoner, knowing that Dib has become secretive of his most prized belongings. Legs crossed, back pressed to the wall, chin in hand I was thinking my thoughts.

My hand drifted down my neck to trace the soft top edge of the lined matte black metal collar locked around my neck. I felt at the difference in texture between the soft barely there fuzz on my skin and the smooth cool metal. It had been locked there for thirty one days, ten hours, six minuets and eleven seconds. It’s some fluke of nature that Dib is as smart as he is. At one point in my career as an invader I theorized that as humans grew taller, their brain shrunk to make up for the increase in body mass. With Dibs lineage, this is less so. As an adult he is only more cunning, more dangerous, more cloyingly obsessive, more driven. He neglects his sleep to work. He works with the single minded diligence of an Irken researcher. His drive to excel in his field transcends the greasy smelly differences between our kinds. The efficiency he commands my own technology with rivals that of a practiced PAK technician. He’s studied the things I left behind on earth for 14 of his years, and it shows. With a single steady bare claw I traced the shape of the emblem embossed onto my collar tag. Dibs skull shaped symbol, displayed in shiny silver across the front of my neck at all times. An unnecessary humiliation that marks me as one of many stolen treasures. I feel its shape on the bare pad of my finger and silently kiss my teeth, stung by the reality that Dib thought of it first. If the world was just, if things made sense, things would have been flipped, things should have been different. If I really am the more advanced life form, I have no excuse for his subjugation. Thirty one days, ten hours, seven minutes and forty fucking seconds.

From my dark hideaway I could see him, hunched over his desk with the posture of a scoliosis king. A bright white desk light illuminates the front of him and reflects off the cobalt blue shine of his protective eyewear. The blue strips of emergency LED light that mark out the floor area catch the underside of his form, and stripe the wrinkles of his sloppy mechanics smock in toxic blue slivers. Through the gap in the curtains in front of him, I could make out a flickering yellow street light. Dibs sigh broke through the silence. He set down his tool and leaned back in his chair, away from the open shell of the drone he’d been repairing. I watched him drag a long fingered skeletal hand back through his greasy weird hair, and watched the unruly sprig of bone and black people fur spring back up as his hand passed it. “You’re quiet.” The human announced, obviously. Before he could twist the rotating chair around to face me I let my hand fall into my lap and folded both hands neatly together. “My brain is loud.” It needed no explanation, but Dib had demanded the cause. Slouched back in his chair, I watched him copy how I had my fingers folded into each other. His eyebrows arched high on his forehead and crinkled his sweaty brow. “You’re thinking? You’re capable of thought?” He’d lick his loathsome incisors and grin. “Damn, I’ll have to correct my notes. I thought the metal parasite on your back did all that for you.” “IT’S NOT A PARASITE! I TOLD YOU! It’s as ME as the rest of ME!” The corners of Dibs eyes crinkled with delight as he watched me retrace the fact. “MY PAK stores the thoughts of my brain jelly- it’s not responsible for my depthy, nuanced original thoughts. It’s all to my benefit. Your simple animal mind can’t BEGIN to perceive the archives of information, understanding and theorizing, locked away between my two magnificent thought centers.” On my knees at the side of the bed, I pointed to my skull, illustrating the thing Dib wished to understand but could never fully unravel. He reached up to peel the lenses of the goggles from the hollows of his eye sockets. As Dib deftly replaced them with the large circular frames of his glasses, he spat noise at me. “You’ve beaten that dead horse to a pulp, Zim. I don’t think your PAK is any different than a circuit board hardwired to the brain of a roach. You’re just as animal as I am. Only, your issues stem from being part evil cyborg, and mine stem from trauma.” Sunny as a blistering summers day, he grinned at me. Smugness radiates from him like pulsar blips, and my innards are assaulted by tight gripping trembles. I tense my core muscles to keep my tymbal from rattling at the slightest provocation. With my antenna pitched slightly forwards, I can smell the pheromones on his sweat. I crossed my arms over my chest, raised my chin, curled my lip at him to flash fangs. “Tch. Zim is no creature. You’re the animal here. You have the technology to advance yourselves into a race of space faring monstrosities, and yet all you want to occupy yourselves with is the pursuit of earthly pleasure. Your kind construct elaborate rituals just to try and rutt against each other. It could be so much simpler!!!” Dib scratched his chin, nonplussed. “Yeah, I never really got all that either. We do have dating apps and that can simplify things if you don’t account for catfishing, and people who straight up lie about themselves just to get their dick wet.” I grimaced at the mental image of a wet human phallus. I re-contextualized the image in my head and imagined the organ as Dibs. I bit the inside of my cheek. “Sooooo… what? As you get older you stop exchanging meats, and instead swap false personal information?” Dib laughed, quick and dry, brimming with unearned superiority. “Oh, fuck- what you mean like what we did back in grade school?” He sat up, leaned in closer to me. Elbows folded on his knees he hunched closer. I could smell his breath on my antenna. Coffee and sugar and bacteria filled my senses and the stalks flicked quickly backwards at the olfactory intrusion. “Yeah I don’t really know why we did that. I have a theory it’s all metaphorical, some kind of mind manipulation game the government was playing with kids to get them to associate “love” with “flesh”. I mean, you know what “meat” alludes to, right?” My face screwed up as I searched my brain for obvious answers. “MMHhn. HHHMN. Pain? Obviously, pain. Emotional...badness.Maybe hormone tampering. Disease?” Dib was already getting out his phone, snickering to himself as he does when he knows something I do not. I kept going. “Death? Blood? Salt? Disgust? The inevitability of the cycle of consumption? How you’re all doomed to be slaughtered by a greater predatory force?” “No. No- what?” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked back up at me. I wanted to rip the piercing out of it. “No. Shut up and look at these.” Dib held out his portable telephone slab to me and on it I saw a digital gallery of meat related memes. The phrase “beat my meat” was prevalent. There were photos of hammers pounding sickly off grey slabs of deceased pig muscle, and a man dusting a sprinkling of salt or spice over a carved rib of bovine corpse.

My head pulled back, giving me the appearance of multiple chins of disgust. My gut churned as I turned my head away. “Why would you show me those??! THEY’RE REVOLTING!!”

Dib frowned, irritated, and put his phone away. “The “meat” those memes are talking about? It references human JUNK- y’know, genitalia? The memes aren’t talking about actual dead farm animals. And, that’s what I’m saying.” He put his large warm hand on my shoulder and continued, sure to hold my eye contact as he put the curl of his thick broad thumb against my cloth covered collar bone. I tensed my guts to keep my tymbal from rattling. “The government has skool children trade literal meat, so we get the idea early on that we’re supposed to exchange our "meat" with people we're attracted to. So that way, we learn to breed, and the men in power get more workers and soldiers and grease for the wheels of their self destructing machine.” My eyes flicked to look at his hand- the long pale olive fingers, the beaten fight scarred knuckles. My gaze then returned to Dibs humorless expression. “That’s a… problem?” Dib groaned, he rolled his eyes, he took his hand off my shoulder.

It slid down to my hip, his free hand mirrored the motion and I was lifted up from the bed and onto my humans lap. He held me there and growled at me in frustration. “YEAh! Zim! It’s a problem! If people are going to have sex it should be their own choice to do so, it isn’t something we should be culturally brainwashed into accepting! And we don’t NEED to do it! Some people are asexual- some people don’t want children and-” Dib rambled, on and on, laying out the injustices of an archaic capitalist system reliant on the breeding whims of its workers. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of the argument was fueled by Dibs xenophilic leanings and revulsion towards his own kind. I gave less than a quarter of a shit about the very political tangent my human was going off on, but I did like how Dibs lap made for a nice sitting surface, and how the heat of his angry body felt against my skin. As Dib spoke I smoothed out the front of his damp black wife beater absentmindedly, my expression unmoved. As my hand rested in the center of Dibs chest, I patted him, I then mock pouted at him. “Poor Dib, how he’s been rejected by his own kind at every turn. How hard it must’ve been for you! Brainwashed into needing the fuck, harassed by the need for fuck with noooo options for how to obtain it!!”

That got him to glare at me, and my spine tingled for it. I grinned as he countered; “You’re missing the point.” And I kept going. “Addicted to the unknown feeling he can never hope to attain, his vile monster meat might have shriveled up without the wetness- like an unwatered flower! Like a rotting length of carrot! Like a bundle of seaweed on a beach, growing drier and nastier the longer it’s left alone, collecting nothing but mold and botfly eggs and-” Dib grabbed me by the throat. His hand closed around my throat. He gave a warning squeeze as he told me to shut up and I peeped in response.

Lowly, my tymbal rattled.

Dibs narrowed angry eyes softened as he caught the surprised chirp of arousal.

The words on my tongue stalled at the tight curling of his long fingers as they overlapped my neck.

“Even if that was how things worked, I’m not at risk of that anymore, am I?”

Dib looked at me with a gaze that implored an answer, and I shrugged coyly. As he frowned and squeezed harder I gagged, my stomach fluttered and a chirp rattled out of me far clearer than the first.

"Mhhn. That's what I thought."

Dib hummed, his human purr was deep and infuriating. He used his free hand to shift my placement on his long thigh, so that I straddled his thigh as he choked me. My eyes began to water as he raised up his knee and gently bounced my vent against his leg.

There is nothing playmates can do for eachother that a squidgyblit cannot also achieve the end goal of. However, being choked while your nemesis grinds your pleasure center against his leg hits differently.

I moaned with a grimace. I scowled at him as he drew another choked out squirm from my body. Unpleasant as the sensation of constriction around my throat was, we both knew the short term strangulation wouldn't kill me. It was a comfortable routine and Dib continued his gloating games.

"You think you can resist all this? You think you can resist the urge to get absolutely wrecked- by someone who's going to lovingly put all your pieces back together when he's done? You need me as bad as I need you, you fucking moron."

He’s wrong. I don’t need him. But, his games are so amusing, they’re so entertaining. It’s such a thrill to be obsessed over. If he ever knew that, it would all go to his head. As bad as he already was, there was ample room for things to get worse. Dib pressed his fingers up underneath my jaw and held my mouth shut. My growl came out as a choking sound, I tried to open my mouth wider and he put his free hand on my shoulder as a threat. “Shhh. You don’t need to talk right now. Why don’t you show me what you want?” I glared, I tried to hack out a rebuttal, but he didn’t want that. Pink heat spread across the skin of my face plate, I chirped and ground my slick vent slowly against the black jean fabric of his thigh. In doing so, I inspired an unhinged smile to pull across his gaunt snout.

He released my throat and my posture bent, towards him as I gasped. My throat opened back up, and my PAK hummed softly as it began to replenish its oxygen reserves.

Dib patted my warm cheek with his hand. “That’s a good boy.” He mocked softly. I was well within my right to bite him. His hands settled on the bone of my hips, I watched his eyes pass over my head and point towards the bunk behind me. The curious gentle twitching of my antenna caught the heat of his words as they stood on end, and I lifted my chin to glare up at him. “Is that really what your brain was being so “loud” over? You’re still angry about our arrangement?” My lip twitched, it’s downwards arch could not have been more dramatic. “HOW could I not be mad about it? You know better than ANYONE what a powerful beacon of mayhem my existence is- that I can be controlled by someone as misshapen and weasley as you is a blistering amount of shame for Zim- full offense.” As I spoke his fingers laid over the small of my back, he rubbed along my tense lower spine and his gentle ministrations forced my aggressively postured antenna to lower. “Oh, full offense taken. But I know you’re happy about it. Deep down, somewhere in your cold blooded brain, there’s a tiny Zim just glowing over how it feels to be fully appreciated. You’re a hideously evil space terror, I can’t take that away from you by loving you. And I wouldn’t want to.” The heat in my face wouldn’t stop, the fluttering sickly feeling in my guts wouldn’t go away. Like knotted strings being unwound or spider web being gently tugged by a trapped fruit fly, the vibrations of his words unwound my nerves. I had to look away from him to speak, the weight of his useless human affection was too heavy to bare the brunt of head on. It was blasphemy that something a horny ugly alien said to me could mean more than the approval of any tallest. “MMMhhNNG. Stop making words.” I growled politely. Dib chuckled without malice, he curled in over me to press his lips to the crest of my skull. “You love serving me.” “Phheh. Zim loves nothing.” “You love what I’ve done to you, Zim. And I can prove it.” Dib lifted me up to move us onto the bunk bed, and bumped the front of his proportionally massive head against the shelf of the top bunk. “Fuck-ow,” “HAH!”

I reached up to hit the button on the bottom of the shelf, and the top bunk folded up against the wall behind it. As the mechanical components hissed, Dib rubbed his five head. “Yeah? That’s funny? You think your master getting brain damage is just hilarious don’t you?”

“If my “master” (I used my fingers to make mock air quotes) is dumb enough to turn his brain to garbage when we aren’t even under attack, he’s not showing mastery over anything, is he?” Dib dropped me out of his arms and onto the bed, I landed with a yelp of surprise though the impact came painlessly. “HEY!”

With his teeth clenched and his eyes narrowed Dibs hands flew over my body, grabbing and groping, pulling off boots and leggings, striping me of the new uniform I’d been given, replacing dark blue cloth with an expanse of green skin. There was ample evidence to suggest Dibs need was as urgent as my own, from his feverish actions to the telltale tenting at the front of his tight emo boy pants. He needed me. I gave a quick shiver twitch at the feeling of air on my exposed skin, and hissed at him. He pinned my chest down with one hand, and sneered at me as the other cupped over my pelvis. “Your standards are way too fucking high for someone who screws up constantly.” I grinned at him with challenging eyes as my legs folded up and opened. “Where would your challenge be if I lowered them, Dib?” His middle finger split the wet slit of my vent open. He traced the sensitive pink interior and I had no choice but to draw in an afflicted breath. The finger slid deeper, he brushed the base of my wriggling dwarf ovipositor, and the distraction sent my antenna fully back. “You, crave conquest.” I crooned, distracted. Sensations continued. I felt the shivers of pleasure in the back of my teeth, my tymbal rattled with quick twitching clicks each time his middle finger teased the inch length of my pink wiggly hot button. “You don’t know what I crave, Zim.” I cackled, light and airy and I gripped the blankets beside my face. I bit my lip and looked at him. His thumb slid into my slit and he gently pinched his fingers around my “dick”. I gasped sharply. I kicked out a heel as he pressed firmly enough to make me whine. I could not help how my eyes wanted to roll back into my skull at the continued friction, but I swear I caught the reddening of his cheeks before vision became meaningless. I do know. I chirped, I moaned, I rubbed my cheek into the soft blankets stained with floral detergent as the tingling feeling of goodness rolled from my loins up the rest of my body. I felt good, and I made it LOOK good. Dib likes to watch me writhe, and in return he rubbed over and over, again and again he rubbed, till it seemed I was breaching a new level of tingly bliss with every passing second. “But, I know what you want, don’t I?” I groaned in disagreement, his fingers stalled on my sex, then his thumb rubbed small twitching strokes at it’s base. I trembled all over at the teasing agitation, and breathed out hard. “MHn, you’ve… got AN idea, of it.” Dibs motions were less practiced as he set out to release his tube steak from it’s denim cage, but he didn’t move his hand from the source of my sultry keening sounds. He wouldn’t, I had been so SO fucking good to him. Letting him work uninterrupted without a single complaint of boredom. I hadn’t tried to attack him in DAYS. It was a personal best record at the time. I was overdue for a reward.

“UHM, EXCUSE YOU??” Dib took his hand out of my vent and I sat bolt upright on my elbows, glaring at him in a sex flushed daze as I watched him inch the clothing down his nearly non-existent ass. “I WAS BUSY. Who said you could STOP?”

He pushed me back down, grabbed my leg and sharply fixed himself between my open thighs. “I’m not stopping, you know I’m not stopping you shrill shitty bedbug.” It spiraled into more routine. In the act of copulation I could always count on the sensation of his fingers sliding into my orifice to pull it’s tight walls steadily open. I could feel all the bumps and ridges, the rough calluses, the finger pad curling around my core and pulling delicious sensation from the thing inside me that made my guts twitch and tremble and rattle like a sack of angry crickets. It didn’t take much. I didn’t need long, and he wasn’t willing to hold off from indulging in the ambrosial clutch of a wanting Irken tunnel. I groaned as he withdrew three of his fingers from me, pulling with them a thin strand of pinkish slick that broke and collapsed over my cleft. I trembled, I hissed in disgust with myself as Dib aligned the head of his extraterrestrial shaft with it’s destination. As he looked down on me, he commanded. “Beg.” “What?” My head cocked, one antenna lifted while the other lowered, my hand reached up to wipe the pearling sweat from my brow. “Really???” He ground his length into the gooey mess he’d left my vent in, I grit my teeth as my tymbal rumbled. “Yeah. Really Zim.” “Mhgghh.” Eyes closed I tensed as the friction of dick on dick action swayed my compliance. “ Plleeeeeaaaase.” “Please what?~” I tried to scowl at Dibs goading, but his grinding made me bite my own tongue. “You have to say it, pet. I won’t give it to you unless you ask properly.” The nickname is a scorning stinging wound that burbles and pops like a pollution born wound, it feels like a hot sudden burn, it catches me the way his fingers do when they clamp around my most intimate points. In the most pathetic of tones and volumes, I answer my mate; “Please, please fill me with your cum, master Dib.” I was rewarded by a hand coming to stroke across my skull. He cradled the dome of my head and caught one of my antenna stalks between his fingers. With the same care he gave my cock, he gently strokes the black hairs to reward me. “Good boy. Good bug.” When the rutting commences sense tumbles out the window in a broken screeching fury, like an escaped chimp on meth, like a rat on fire making a break for water. I lose my fucking mind to the reactions of my body. The vehicle rocks under us with the power of Dibs mighty thrusts.He fills me so deeply with his oversized ovipositor, I can feel his pulsing want bulging against the skin of my stomach at full hilt. When he finally spills in me I am so wound up that I have already hit my climax twice over. I snarl, I lean into him and the lips I have put to his salty skin part so I can taste his sweat on my tongue. My jaws open wider, and as Dib grunts, at the height of his peak, I bite hard enough to puncture his fragile skin on the edge of my teeth. The red taste of metal is smeared over my lips, on my tongue, over the pasty tan palette of his shoulder muscle. Dib hisses air in through his teeth. “You couldn’t- you couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His panting breath stalls his words, a red tinted smile spread across my fuck drunk face. I licked my lips as I replied, and watched a thin trail of human red meet up with the black fabric of his shirt and diffuse into it.

“No, no I couldn’t.” I hummed back at him. In the state of high endorphine swing I am not fully myself. Everything was brighter, lighter, more exciting. A hazy happy drugged exisence takes hold of me and sways me to Dibs whims. As he pulls out of me, he sighs with a shivering buzz. “Then, you’re not done yet.” In a matter of minutes Dib is redressed while I remain naked, wrists and ankles shackled to the four rectangular points of the bunk via metal shackles that the walls of the Arr Vee spat out. I was only just beginning to come out of my fogy mental state when my human retrieved a black blunt vibration wand from a drawer of tormenting devices. Over the following hour I grew more and more delirious as Dib wrung my body out for increasingly mind crushing orgasms. Things stopped having meaning, Dibs taunting words lost their sense, and I rattled straight through to my bones. That I could not pull my limbs in towards myself and protect my body from the assault of sensation had at one point been disquieting, but then and there, it encouraged me to let go of my resistance. I had let go of my fruitless delusions, I had given myself up to Dib, and Dib did not stop till I was crying with the intensity of multiple peaks.

It made up for everything else that had happened. The blinding beacon of his smothering affections absorbed me in it’s garish embrace as he unshackled me from the walls. He cleaned me, he held me in a folded blanket till the shaking of my overwhelmed body stopped. My prickly insults bounced off him like harmless pebbles of sand. The Dib stroked over my antenna, groomed them with the sex scented oils of his fingers, the Arr Vee reaked of the smell of our sins. Accepting Dibs terms of affection is illegal, but I’m defective anyways, aren’t I?

#screaming//#izspacetrash #zadr #zadr fuck fick because in this they bone #no fuckin minors allowed

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nautiscarader · 4 years

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Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), Zalissa (Melizack)

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show),

Zalissa (Melizack) (Milo Murphy’s Law), E, 1.8k

(Ao3)

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.

Prompt suggested by @vickyships

=================

- Nervous, mister Underwood? Is it your first time live on air?

Melissa's voice brought Zack from his short moment of thoughtfulness.

- Me? - Zack returned a cocky smile Melissa blessed him with - Are you kidding? We've been through tougher times. And why did you call me that? - Journalistic integrity. Gotta stay professional, since, you know, we are a thing. - Uh, babe, the entire school knows we are a thing, so- - I know, but let's pretend. - she cut him off - Ssh, we're going live.

Melissa gave him a quick wink and slid the headphones on, just as Lydia, sitting behind glass in the director's room opposite them was giving them signals. She silently counted from five to one, and when the red "On Air" lamp above them turned on, her confident, alluring voice filled the recording room.

- And now, Danville, welcome to another episode of "Chased into the spotlight", a programme where your humble host, Melissa Chase, interviews your favourite local celebrities, idols, oddballs, or whomever is available.

She spoke the intro on a single breath, giving her boyfriend a subtle wink at the end of her opening line.

- Today's guest has moved into our town only a couple of years ago, but he has already made a name for himself, though I will most certainly try to uncover a bit of his past. How are you doing, Zack? - I am fine, Melissa, and thanks for inviting me. - Oh, it is my pleasure for having you.

Her smirk widened just a bit as she spoke those words, prompting a sudden twitch from her interlocutor sitting opposite her. As if nothing has happened, Melissa casually looked at her list of questions and continued.

- Zack, most people know you for being cool, laid-back guy and a loyal friend, but only some of us have heard about your passions and talents. Would you care to tell us about them? - Well, I guess it started when I was a young kid, I liked dressing up for Halloween and that kinda led me to getting interested in theatre and dancing, and I guess singing. - Interesting... - Melissa toyed with her pen, and took one end of it into her mouth, gently grazing it with her teeth - Were you interesting in role-playing? Wearing costumes? Assuming different characters, to enact some of your... fantasies?

Melissa might have wondered about it before, but there was no mistake now - in the lights of the recording studio, she could easily see droplets of sweat on Zack's forehead forming as her words left her mouth, still forming an alluring connection with the pen.

- Uh, well, you-you can say tha-that... - And you have played roles, singing in your boy band, "Lumberzacks". - Melissa interrupted him - Oh, uh, yes. - ... which was of course called "Lumbermaxes", before the lead singer, Max, left, leaving you in charge. Tell me, how does it feel to be chosen as the dominant alpha male of your group? - Wha-what do you mea-AA!

Zack yelped and put hands over his mouth when he felt something smooth sliding up his leg, right up to his crotch. Neither the listeners, nor Lydia could see what Melissa was doing with her feet underneath the table, but neither the pop-filter, nor the equipment could hide his ecstatic voice.

- Impressive vocal range - Melissa commented without missing a beat - Why don't we listen to a clip of your song, long enough to let our viewers experience your talent, and short enough to avoid our channel being taken down by copyright bots?

She nodded towards Lydia, and the familiar tune of a lumberjack-themed song started seeping from the speakers, giving the two a short moment to breathe, though Zack evidently needed it more.

- Mel! - he spoke in half-whisper - What the what was that?

His girlfriend graced him with another smirk, as her foot slid from her shoe and started climbing up his leg again. She looked at the equalised of his microphone and watched as the waves of his breathing osculate with each inch she was travelling up. Their eyes met, and as she travelled up, Melissa wondered if she made the right choice. Though he was nervous, her boyfriend didn't let her know she has won, until her toes found the familiar thickness hidden in the left leg of his jeans. She moved her toes back and forth around his head, until in the corner of her eye Melissa noticed Lydia signalling the end of the clip.

At once, Melissa retracted her foot from between his legs, seeing longing in his eyes and fixed her position in the chair.

- And that was "Forest Fire of My Heart", which I understand you also co-wrote? - Uh, yes - Zack grunted - Usually Max was the head writer, but this is the one song where I proved that I am skilled not only in using my mouth, but also my fingers...

Zack leaned forward, eager to see Melissa's eye widen as hers, but instead, Melissa let out a short and quiet snort.

- Be-because I had to ty-type the song on-on my PC... - Of course.

Melissa restrained herself from bursting into laughter.

- Tell me, in the song, you sing about "Burning wood" and "Fire consuming your body".

She once again half-closed her eyes, and lowered her voice into a seductive, alluring range, accentuating the innuendos.

- Were you describing- - Love.

Zack answered at once.

- I was writing about love, warming one's soul, heart and mind, love that if left unspent can burn bridges and forests. I was thinking, seeing into the future, perhaps, about a flame with a flaming red hair that I will meet one day and make her cheeks burn with the same fire...

It was time for Melissa to stare at her sly-looking lover with a dumbfounded, empty expression on her face, while the room and the airwaves were filled with nothing but silence for a solid twenty seconds.

- Uhm, this-this is all the time we have for today, Lu-Lumberzacks are about to have a- uh, reunion charity concert on Saturday, and you can buy the-the tickets on our website, though I should warn you, the first row is already sold out because I will buy all of them.

She waved quickly at Lydia to end the recording early, and soon as the red light above them and the one behind the glass were turned off, Melissa regained some confidence in her voice.

- How much time do we have till next classes? - Fifteen minutes. - Perfect. - And keep the headphones on, you look sexy in it - Zack spoke just as Melissa was about to take it off.

The sound-proof walls contained Melissa's shriek that escaped her mouth when Zack grabbed her waist and lifted her up just so he can slam her against the table. Anticipating his move, she spread her legs, and the second he slid between them, they closed behind his back in a tight lock, and a quick kick to his ass made him press his crotch against her wet sex.

While his lips found hers, her hands at once dashed between their heated bodies, to the same length she was massaging through his jeans, and after a few seconds of fumbling, he slid into her delicate palm. She wished they had time for delicate foreplay, but the heat burning between her legs told her she needs a far, far quicker fix for that.

She ended their ravenous kiss just so she could hear his voice cracking when his cock's head pushed aside the strip of her soaked panties and parted her puffy lips, followed by a savoured, blissful moment of tranquillity. But metaphorical tables were turned pretty quickly on her, when Zack used those few seconds to gather strength and sank inside her in one, smooth move which made Melissa's body arch as her senses were overwhelmed by her lover's filling her up.

- You... you would like this to be live, on air, wouldn't you...?

Melissa taunted him, eager to see his eyes widen at her salacious proposal.

- I want to proclaim my love to you to the who-whole school... - he grunted leaning against her for a kiss - And the nation. Even world. - And space, don't forget that. We know they got your songs out there...

Picking up speed, the two lovers moved in unison, racing both together and against each other, with the words of Zack's song still in their heads. Melissa didn't know whether it was poor air conditioning, or maybe their bodies grinding against each other have made the wooden table catch fire, but with each second she felt her core superheating.

- Me-Melissa... - Zack groaned, feeling the same overwhelming need in his loins - Where- - Inside - she answered at once in a broken voice - i want your seed to extinguish the fire inside me...

Those were the last words Melissa could speak with a clear mind. Melissa's final moan rivalled his grunts, and the sound-proof room trapped them around the two, just as their mouths joined again, rocking their shared climax that made the table slam against the wall with each thrust of Zack's hips and each portion of his cum that flooded her womb.

After another minute or so, the aggressive noise died down, just as the first wave of blissful afterglow began engulfing the two young adults. Zack gave Melissa a charming smile, leaned against her, and Melissa automatically closed her eyes, waiting for her lover's lips... But after a while of waiting she realised something must have gone wrong.

When she looked at him again, she saw a terrified look in his eyes, fixated at some point behind her, and when she tilted her head back, she noticed a single figure in the director's room that was lit once again.

Even with the image of her friend upside-down, Melissa could spot Lydia's burning cheeks and equally frightened look on her face, as the poor soul didn't know how to react to finding her friends in flagranti. Slowly, she decided to back away, though she never took her eyes (nor her phone) away from Zack and Melissa's half-naked, tangled bodies, until the director's room was empty once more.

- Well, I think we should count our blessings. - Zack huffed - If it was Milo, we would be live and everyone would hear us. - Are you saying everyone won't hear about it? - Melissa raised her eyebrow, and cupped his face to give him a kiss. - Get ready for an extra amount of awkward interviews for the next few days. Also, I am going to take the headset home, if you like me wearing it. - Yeah, shame it doesn't go with anything, so you'll have to be naked.

Zack laughed when Melissa gave him a light punch just as the two began to cover up their mess.

#melizack #zalissa #melissa chase #zack underwood #milo murphy's law #nautiscaraderfics #lemon #smutember #smutember2020 #day 1

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nimarkiva-stuff · 4 years

Text

Fan-art Writing

So, I absolutely love one of @blasticheart‘s characters, a Pokemon Trainer OC, and really wanted to have him meet the Trainer OC version of myself that I do for @nimarkiva-the-pokemon-trainer.

.....except it’s pretty violent based on the premise of his character, so I can’t really post it on that blog, I know full well there are a lot of kids who visit that one.

Oh, right, I have an art blog, too. Deeeerp. So, fan-art for @blasticheart beneath the cut. There is violence, and it is Pokemon themed. Not for kids. Murder mention and attempt.

It was late on a lazy Friday afternoon, and Dit was looking forward to a challenge. He hoped there would be a good battle today since no one had contested him yet. He bounced a pokéball in his hand, grinning as he thought of what might come if he was patient. Hopefully it was a Pokémon battle that he could win. If not win, at least enjoy. He loved a good fight.

His gaze swept across the park at the edge of the woods, lingering on a particular trainer who was out with her Pokémon. The tattooed woman was leaning on a cane and had a Haunter with her, as well as a Lucario. Now that was a fight! The trainer looked fairly unassuming. She had shoulder-length gingery hair that was bleached blond at the tips, and looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She was dressed fairly nondescript- t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. The wooden cane in her right hand was clearly for the pronounced limp she walked with. The human stood at about five feet and ten inches, rather tall, but at the same time a bit stooped because of how she leaned on the cane. The stocky human had a large tattoo of a purple Sharpedo and plumeria blossoms on her right arm, visible because of her short sleeves. Her glasses were simple, black rectangular frames that suited her.

The trainer didn’t look like much. She honestly could have passed for any adult woman on the street. But he of all people knew how looks could be deceiving, didn’t he? And she did have a Lucario with her, not to mention a fairly large Haunter who looked like he could give anyone a run for their money. The Ditto looked at his reflection on the shiny pokéball in his hand. She’d be a challenge- and depending on what she had in her pokéballs, it was a match which could genuinely go in favor of either of them.

He decided it was worth a shot. Win or lose- though he hoped win- it promised to be fun. Dit made his way to where she was playing with the Lucario. The trainer would toss a ball, and the Lucario would deflect it back to her with a shield of Aura energy, angling it to make sure she could catch the bouncy rubber sphere each time. It was both a game and a practice in precision. Dit could definitely appreciate training like that.

“Yo, Nim, heads up!” the Haunter told his trainer when the young man came over.

Dit paused for a moment. Another Pokémon who could speak in a human language? Well, now that was something. He gave the woman and her Pokémon a toothy grin when she focused on him. “You wanna have a Pokémon battle?” he asked eagerly.

Nim blinked, looking a bit surprised. The Lucario beside her looked up at the trainer, then back at Dit. He wasn’t so sure about this one. Not because he was afraid of a fight, but more because something was…off. And it was going to drive Lucas nuts until he figured out what it was. Something in that smile, and the look in his eyes.

“Can’t really see a reason to refuse,” the woman said with a shrug. “Three on three, or six against six?”

The tall trainer waved her question off. “Nah, five on five,” he said with that same toothy grin.

Nim raised one eyebrow. Odd, but she’d go with it. “Sure,” she said. “Not going to lie, I’m going to bring out some of the big guns- there’s a space in the woods which is a lot better for that kind of battle, got a concrete wall and is away from people. That work for you?”

Dit rubbed his hands together. Oh, that worked, he had some big guns of his own. “Bring it on,” he told her with a smirk.

Lucas decided he definitely did not like that smile.

“I’m Dit. So what do you do?” Dit asked as they hiked to the location of the practice arena.

“I’m Nim, a teacher, and I run a Pokémon rehabilitation house for those who have gotten injured or abused,” Nim explained. “You?”

“I battle,” he said with that same creepy grin. “A rehab house? Sounds cool.”

That actually was true. He did like the idea of that sort of place, since he knew how many needed it. The Ditto could also see how she cared for those who were with her. Each of the Pokémon at her side showed all the signs of being loyal as well as happy to be with the human. Good health, too, the Lucario’s fur was sleek and well-groomed while the Haunter was particularly solid, instead of being more wispy like an unhealthy ghost type tended to look.

The area Nim had in mind for their battle was a small arena, sunken a few feet into the ground with a concrete wall holding the dirt back. When they had reached the spot, well away from bystanders who might not want to be hit by stray attacks, Nim pulled a pokéball out of her pocket.

Dit whistled when she summoned a Necrozma. That was unexpected. He watched as she crooned over the big Pokémon, stroking its arm and whispering that it was a good boy. The Necrozma made a happy sound, wrapping one big hand loosely around her for a moment. Then it squared off in his direction.

“Nacho, I choose you,” she said with a quirky little smile.

The Pokémon Trainer grinned as he pulled out the pokéball containing a Metagross. But before he could say anything, he was interrupted by two newcomers stepping out of the woods- Rocket grunts. “That’s a nice Necrozma,” one of the men said with a smirk. “Be a pity if something bad happened during a fight.”

The transformed Ditto growled. He did not like Team Rocket at all. Using a small arena like this as a hunting ground to try and steal Pokémon, because it was out of the way? Dirty and low. But his normal method of dealing with them wouldn’t work- there was a human here he didn’t want to needlessly kill. He was about to summon another member of his family out of their pokéball to fight when Nim snapped her fingers.

“Lewis, my darling boy, you know the drill,” she said with a grin.

The Haunter smirked before vanishing into the earth with a swirl of smoke at her feet. Dit watched, amazed, as he rose out of the ground behind the Team Rocket members a few seconds later. The Haunter hovered above them, a sphere of dark energy forming between his hands. “Cannon ball!” he said, diving downwards and hurling the shadow ball between the grunts at the same time.

The two humans fled- that was not what they’d been expecting at all, given the appearances of the Haunter’s trainer. Nim had chosen to go straight for them instead of Pokémon battling with them. That was terrifying to the Team Rocket goons because it meant she was not about to put up with their attempt.

But the attack had some unexpected side effects as it had been a particularly powerful one. A chunk of loose brick spun towards Dit and Nim. The Ditto was in the act of dodging when Nim raised one hand towards him.

Crackling blue energy shielded the Pokémon trainer, causing the rubble to bounce back towards Nim. She didn’t shield herself in time. That was one of her faults as well as something which made her good at her job- the woman focused on others first, sometimes at cost to herself. It hit, hard, on her bad right leg just above the knee. There was no blood, but the impact could be heard. The woman went down with a strangled shriek of pain, kneeling on the dirt of the arena.

“Oh hell- Nim, I’m so sorry, I overdid that,” Lewis said as he rushed to her side. “You ok, Boss?”

She nodded, blinking tears out of her eyes and swallowing hard. “I’ll be alright,” the woman gasped. “You ok, big guy? Lucas, Nacho? No one injured? Dit, what about you?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, looking at her in surprise. “That was Aura, wasn’t it? I didn’t know humans could do that.”

“Some can. It’s really rare,” Nim said as she struggled to her feet.

Lucas immediately handed her the cane which she had dropped, while allowing her to lean against him. “Take a moment, Mother,” the telepathic Pokémon said quietly. “You need to rest.”

Mother? Another surprise. This human could not only manipulate Aura, but one of her Pokémon thought of her as a mom. Dit was interested in the trainer. It seemed that like him, she thought of her team as family. The Necrozma, Nacho, moved so that Nim could sit on his hand and take the weight off her bad leg.

“Hey, Dit, raincheck on our battle?” Nim asked tiredly. “I need to get home and have my Medicham, Misha, help me out with this, I think I messed something up in my leg again when that rock hit.”

The Ditto was disappointed that he wasn’t going to get the battle he was hoping for, but he did understand. “I will hold you to that raincheck,” he told her with that creepy grin which kept setting Lucas on edge.

Nim gave him a little pained smile back, waving to him. “You betcha. You want to stop on by tomorrow, my house is the big lavender colored one with the stone wall around it and the barn in the back, on the other side of the overpass heading out of the west side of town. You can’t miss it, ask about Nim’s place and anyone can point you my way.”

Dit nodded. He could remember those directions. “See you tomorrow,” he said with a wry chuckle, pocketing the pokéball in his hand and walking off.

He was mulling over a plan for the battle against her when he realized something. Had he been a character in an anime, there would have the lines accompanying the blip of shocked realization coming from the back of his head. The Ditto’s eyes went wide when he realized that a human who could use Aura would also be able to sense it…

…and had to know his secret.

The Ditto swore at that. He looked around, but the park was too populated for him to do what needed to be done. It would also be dangerous to try and attack the woman in her own home. She took in sick and wounded Pokémon, there were likely many who would defend her without hesitation. He also had seen three of her team- a trainer like that surely had a full battling team of six heavy hitters, seeing as she had asked if he wanted a larger battle.

No, he’d have to kill her in a spot where she was vulnerable and there weren’t other people around to witness it. Preferably caught off guard so that she didn’t summon the Pokémon who would defend her. Dit really didn’t want to make too big a deal of this since he already didn’t like the idea of killing a rehab worker. But he also didn��t trust she wouldn’t snitch on him to Officer Jenny.

The overpass was the perfect place. He had flown there after seeing that the woman was walking. Even on her bad leg, she was still making her way home on foot. Dusk had fallen in the time it took her to make her way across the city, which was perfect for what he had in mind. The Haunter and the Lucario were nowhere to be seen- likely recalled to their pokéballs. Dit was a bit confused at that. He’d thought for sure that the two of them would have been at her side to help her walk. Well, a stroke of luck for him.

He shifted back to his human form, leaning casually against the metal rail which blocked the sidewalk from the street. The protective rails on both sides of the path also meant that the trainer could only run in two directions. Dit was pretty sure he was faster than Nim as he watched her hobble up to where he was waiting, hood raised over his baseball cap to hide his face.

“Hey, Nim, I’m actually a bit sorry about this,” he said, stepping forward to block her path. “You seem like a nice one.”

Nim leaned back in surprise when Dit’s arm suddenly shifted to that of a Scyther’s bladed claw. She threw up a shield of Aura energy in the nick of time, blocking the blow. Her cane dropped to the ground with a clatter, forgotten as she tried to defend herself. The human stumbled back from the force of his attack and raised her hands.

“Hey, Dit, come on, you don’t want to do this,” she told him. “Let me take some R&R time, we can have a proper fight tomorrow.”

The woman was surprisingly calm. Dit supposed that was good. He preferred she try talking him out of it instead of trying to fight back, which could be messy and obvious. It wasn’t like he was going to trust her no matter what she said- but letting her talk gave him time to get closer. “Like I said, you seem nice,” he repeated.

He easily grabbed the front of her shirt with his hand, raising the other arm up. The stance was oddly intimate since he held her close without room to get away. Even if he could not shapeshift, in the form of his previous trainer he was so much stronger than the disabled woman. It would be so easy to just snap the human like a twig. He didn’t like it, but it had to be done. The human had to die for him to feel safe.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be,” Dit said quietly.

The Ditto paused when he felt something press against his stomach. “Got something in your pocket? You can’t be that happy to see me,” he told her with a little smirk that didn’t make it to his eyes- he wasn’t pleased to have to kill a human who took care of Pokémon in a rehabilitation home. Nim snorted, still oddly calm. “Yeah, no, it’s not what you think. Put me down so I don’t have to see Reba and Remy gut you. This is my favorite jacket and I don’t want to ruin it. I also don’t want you to get hurt, I get why you’re doing this.”

Dit looked down and saw two knives were pressed against his abs, each angled in a way where they could be slashed in the opposite directions after piercing skin and muscle. That would certainly do a good job of opening him up. The knifes melded into the wrists of two arms, a bit of pink drip at the connecting point looking quite familiar to the shift point of his own arm at the moment.

The knife wielders stood up behind Nim, keeping the blades pressed at his stomach in warning. They were clearly twins, a brother and a sister, and had been crouched behind her. Dit wasn’t sure how he had not noticed them until he saw that the pokéballs on Nim’s belt were all attached so that they angled backward. The two Dittos had likely been summoned to her side when she stumbled away from him. He hadn’t seen them because they were hidden by her own body when they kept low behind Nim.

Now that was extremely sneaky and clever. But such a plan meant the human had thought she would be attacked. He didn’t like that one bit. Dit’s day had gone from bad to worse now that Nim had backup and his idea hadn’t worked like he’d expected.

“How’d you do that?” he demanded irately, leaving his arm raised. They currently had a bit of a stalemate, and he was not about to give that up. Even the smallest advantage was better than nothing. If Nim had planned for this, she’d likely planned for other things, too.

“The phrase I said,” Nim explained. “When I talked about fighting tomorrow? Reba and Remy, my R&R duo of Dittos. The pokéballs are facing backwards, they popped out on their own when I called for them. You were too busy trying to carve me like a turkey to notice others like you, dude.”

“If you know what I am, then you know why I’ve got to do this,” Dit said as he tightened his grip on her shirt, his face close to hers.

Nim snorted. “What, you think you’re the first Pokémon to do something like this? Lemme guess, you offed your trainer for some reason. I’m guessing…you cut his throat? Nah, too planned, it was probably in the heat of the moment…ooh, you didn’t stab him in the back, did you? Break his neck? Come on, Dit, give me some details.”

The Ditto trainer was a bit unnerved by how nonchalant she was. His expression dropped when he heard someone clear their throat behind him. Distraction. She’d been distracting him and was fighting dirty. He’d seen this move earlier.

“Vibe check,” Lewis said as he swung the trainer’s wooden cane at Dit’s head.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dit woke up in a soft bed, with the blanket tucked around his shoulders and a throbbing headache. He sat upright in alarm, throwing off the blanket in the same motion and staring at the unfamiliar surroundings. The female of the Ditto twins was sitting near the doorway, looking at him over sunglasses.

“You’re a pain,” she muttered as she regarded him. “Nim said we couldn’t leave you there. Try and kill my trainer again, and so help me, I will make you regret it.”

The Pokémon trainer growled at that. He was about to say something snarky in reply when Nim poked her head in the doorway to break it up. “Reba, c’mon, be nice. Good to see you’re awake, Dit, I thought Lewis had seriously scrambled something up there when you were out the entire night. You should come get some breakfast.”

“Why should I trust you?” Dit demanded.

Nim shrugged. “Ok, don’t, then. It’s no skin off my back. By the way, this is yours. There’s bacon, eggs, and toast in the kitchen if you change your mind.” The human tossed a pokéball to him. Dit caught it, fumbled the sphere, and blinked when he saw the name written on it. This was his pokéball. Nim must have taken it while he was unconscious. It would have been something very useful to have against him if she had wanted to have an advantage.

Instead, she had given it back.

Reba scowled at him before following after the woman. Dit had to wonder where her twin was. He definitely did not want to try anything in Nim’s home unless he absolutely had to, not after seeing how she had planned the night before. But he had to kill the human somehow to protect his own secret.

Dit walked down the hall to the kitchen, following the smell of cooking food. It did smell awfully good. Nim was at the stove, and Reba was at her side, shifting to a Meowstic. The Ditto trainer decided to sit at the table, which was set for several Pokémon and two humans if the silverware was anything to go by. He’d bide his time until the right moment presented itself.

“So how did you know?” Dit asked. “I’m real good at keeping my secret. What tipped you off, and how did you plan for my attempt at killing you?”

Nim snorted. “Oh, you are good, I’ll give you that. I figured it out when I felt your Aura, and you said five against five for a fight…you’re a Ditto, and there were all the signs that you took over the team you were part of. So why would you do that? Duh, you look like a trainer…probably your trainer. How do you avoid a human trainer ratting you out as a thief and a fraud? Easy if you could take his face because he’s dead. And you’d do that if you killed him, probably. If you’ve killed before, you might be willing to do it again to keep your secret, and you’re no dummy, you had to know what me being able to use Aura meant. So, planning ahead with Reba and Remy about where you were most likely going to try and kill me. The overpass seemed like it’d be the best spot if you were plotting a murder.”

Dit swallowed hard. He definitely was sure he could not trust her enough to let her live now after hearing that. This human was dangerous, and killing her was the only option he could see. “So what do you want?” he asked slowly. “Blackmail?”

The human rolled her eyes. “Absolutely not. I don’t want anything, except maybe for you to stop trying to kill me. You seriously think you’re the first Pokémon to kill their trainer? Bad trainers exist, and I know it, I get to look after the ones who were mistreated. I’ve got a Greninja with a scarred up face and a missing arm because of bad humans, and a midnight form Lycanroc with PTSD from the same situation. Their trainer gave them up to a Pokémon Center before turning himself in for Pokémon abuse, pretty messed up and in need of hospital care. You are not the first Pokémon to retaliate, Dit, and I don’t blame you for killing someone who abused you. Now, you want breakfast? I messed up the eggs, so they’re scrambled, that ok?”

The trainer tilted his head. “You are way too calm about this,” he told her suspiciously. “Did you call Officer Jenny on me or something?”

“No, I just don’t like seeing Pokémon mistreated,” Nim said. “You know, that being the reason why I run a rehab house for them? Things are never black and white, either. This is not my first rodeo when it comes to Pokémon who did stuff most would consider to be really bad. You have your secrets, and I have mine.”

“…who have you killed?” Dit asked, eyes narrowing.

“No one, yet, I’ve had my coffee this morning,” the tattooed woman replied with a laugh. “Seriously, we’re cool and I won’t rat you out. I don’t think you just go around randomly killing people. Probably just the ones who need to go or figure out your secret. I’d prefer not to be on that second list is all.”

“And why should I trust you?” the Ditto asked as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair.

Nim put one arm over her stomach. She rested her elbow on it to tap her chin with one fingertip. “Hmm, let me see,” she said with an exaggerated air of thoughtfulness. “I had your pokéball, and gave it back instead of using it. I didn’t let Reba and Remy gut you. I could have taken you straight to Officer Jenny, but instead I let you sleep off a clonk to the head in one of my guest rooms. I’m making you breakfast even after you tried to kill me. If I meant anything bad, dude, I had hours to pull a stunt and loads of opportunity.”

Dit mulled it over. She had a point. But that still didn’t explain why Nim hadn’t done any of those things. That made no sense to him unless she wanted something from him. “No really, what do you want?” he demanded.

The woman shrugged. “Why does everyone have to want something? I mean, I’d like to not have you try to kill me again, isn’t that enough? Last night was a close one even if I was ready for it.”

He was reminded about the two Dittos she had when the woman said that. “Your Dittos talk and can pass as human, like me,” Dit said. “What’s up with that?”

“Rescued from Team Rocket labs,” Nim told him simply. “Same as Lewis.”

“I don’t trust you,” Dit said firmly.

“I figured,” Nim said as she put a plate full of food in front of him. “And it makes sense. Humans probably always want something based on the ones you’ve likely met- and why would anyone trust a murderer?”

Dit gave her a skeptical look. “You said it. So. Why don’t you want anything, and why do you trust a murderer?”

“Technically, murder is one human killing another,” Nim mused as she sat down at the table. “Yours is just self-defense. You have to watch your own back, right? And what would happen to your Pokémon family if you were caught? It’s not just what would happen to you. I get it. I’m not condoning it or saying it’s a good thing, but I get it. And no, I prefer not to know your kill count, I don’t need to know as long as I’m not on the list.”

The Pokémon put both hands on the table and leaned forward, getting uncomfortably into her space. “How do I know you won’t betray me?”

Nim sighed. “Well, I’m not sure what to tell you if I haven’t convinced you yet. Tell you what, you eat breakfast and follow me. If I try anything, you get to do what you feel you need to do.”

The woman’s two Dittos shifted at that, to their own chosen human forms. The brother was quiet, gesturing wildly that he did not approve of that, while his sister spoke for both of them. “No, we won’t let you!” Reba said. “You can’t do that!”

“If I expect him to trust me, I’ve got to show some trust in him,” Nim reminded the Ditto twins.

“…you have one day to convince me,” Dit told her, going against his better judgement. “Then I’ll do what I have to.”

“Deal,” the trainer agreed, holding out her hand. “Hey, if your head is hurting from getting clonked by Lewis, I’ve got a few things from the Poké Mart to fix you up.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dit had a bit of a scare when Officer Jenny came to the house after breakfast. But it soon became apparent that she was there for other reasons- Nim hadn’t called her, nor did the trainer say or do anything to reflect that her life was in danger. The police officer was there because a Pokémon needed to be dropped off into Nim’s care. She didn’t even notice Dit.

Nim went about her day after getting the new Pokémon settled in, which involved taking care of a lot of other Pokémon who were housed in the barn behind her home. There was also a great deal of grocery shopping. The human made good use of the day being Saturday to get her errands done. She had plenty of opportunity to try and rat Dit out. Considering her life was on the line, he expected her to try and get some help from outside sources.

Yet she didn’t.

It was confusing. She even did nice things for him- not an attempt at bribery, but just because she could. When Nim had stopped for lunch, she bought him a burger and fries as well, tossing the bag to him. It wasn’t something done as an afterthought, but instead a genuine gesture of intentional kindness.

Nim excused herself to her room when they got back to her house, saying she was tired and needed to sleep a bit. Running a lot of errands like that was hard on the disabled trainer because of how much it hurt her to walk. Dit was skeptical about the fact that she was supposedly taking a nap. Surely she wasn’t planning on sleeping while someone who wanted to kill her was in the house?

He waited until she was snoring- it had to be an act- to slip through the partially opened doorway. The woman’s room was simple, and none of her Pokémon team were with her. He’d watched her put the pokéballs on the kitchen table before going to lay down for a nap. She had also told the others to give him space. The woman was completely defenseless, a lonely huddled form sleeping under a blanket.

“Too easy,” Dit muttered as he shifted his arm. He raised the Scyther claw blade high, bringing it down sharply.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dinner was good. Nim had made a solid meal of roasted vegetables, twice-baked potatoes, and steak. Her team was still uneasy around Dit, but Nim seemed pretty comfortable. Either she really did trust him, or she was a helluva good actor.

“I was going to kill you while you were sleeping,” he told her nonchalantly as they ate.

Nim tilted her head, ignoring the way her Pokémon stiffened and glared at Dit. “Oh? So what changed?”

“You snore, do you know that? Really loudly, too. I thought it had to be a trick. But you were actually asleep. I wanted to kill you, I could have, and yet…you decided to trust me,” Dit said thoughtfully. “I guess I can try trusting you some. But seriously. You betray me, and I will kill you. Don’t think that I won’t just because you do a good thing with this house of yours.”

“That’s fair,” Nim mused. “Thank you, Dit, for giving me a chance. So, I still owe you a Pokémon battle. Want to come back tomorrow and try that again?”

Dit was hesitant to leave, concerned for what she might try to do when she was out of his sight. But, against his better judgement, he decided to give the woman a further chance to prove herself as being trustworthy. Nim had shown trust in him in spite of all she knew he had done. Not to mention what he had just told the woman he’d nearly done to her.

“Sure,” he said slowly. “A battle after breakfast?”

“You are so on,” Nim told him. “Bring your A-game, because I won’t settle for anything less.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Ditto didn’t sleep well during the night. There was too much on his mind. If he had judged the human wrong, there was a lot on the line. And if he had made a bad decision…Dit would definitely be kicking himself for it. He found himself hoping he wouldn’t have to kill the woman, not after she’d given the appearance of trusting him.

Nim was waiting at the house the next morning. A quick look around before he had made his presence known showed that it was safe. No Officer Jenny, no police force Arcanines, no police detectives there to take him into custody. Only a smiling woman who had made an extra helping of breakfast just in case he wanted it when he arrived. The food wasn’t drugged. She made no move to attack him, and even knowingly turned her back to Dit repeatedly in a show of trust.

Maybe she genuinely meant what she’d said after all.

“Gonna see if you’ve got what it takes to beat me?” Dit asked as they stood in the practice arena in the barn after having breakfast with Nim. He stood in a prepared stance, pokéball raised and at the ready. It was time to see what Nim’s team was made of. The Ditto may have had a hard time trusting her, but he was always ready for a Pokémon battle, and Nim promised to be a challenge from what he had seen of her and her team already.

The woman snorted as she raised a pokéball of her own on the other side of the open space. “Bring it, Pinky,” she told him with a smirk.

“Oh, you did not just go there!” Dit retorted back. “It is definitely on now.”

Maybe, just maybe, he could trust her. A little. He’d still kill her if he had to in order to keep himself safe. If it came down to the human or him, he was going to take care of himself. Dit had to look out for himself and his family.

But it was starting to look like knowing this human might actually be fun.

#fan characters #fanart #pokemon #pokemon trainer #violence #murder #murder attempt #fighting

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teddibearclub · 4 years

Text

my favourite things kpop boys have said:

eric: a long time ago i dressed up as a princess but now i want to dress up as-

kevin: a prince?

eric: no, geodude from pokémon

kevin: i don’t know what a het is

20 seconds of silence

jisung (skz): gay!

kevin: van gogh was found wigless and shook in his grave, thank you for that narrative.

mark lee: i feel like the possibility of those possibilities being possible is just another possibility that can possibly happen

johnny: i was thinking we could also go for like frozen yogurt

mark completely changing the tone straight faced: oh i’m not a yogurt fan, i can’t eat yogurt

johnny: no it’s like ICEcream

mark: i know

johnny: ok nevermind

mark lee to a random person : excuse me do you know this song “party on the city where the heat is on all night in the beach where the beat is on, welcome to miami”

the person:

mark lee: i’m sorry ok

*later*

mark lee: hey do you guys know this song-

mark lee: wow this country music is making this texas feel more like texas, even more like texas

mark lee: my fingers aren’t mine

jaemin: then i’m jin ramyum

dream: oiiiiii

renjun: i feel like dying

dream:

renjun: what’s wrong?

mark lee to a squirrel: check this out hey buddy aw come on man waaeyay

mark: woah it’s actually different from santa monica beach because i always thought that all beaches were the same and it actually isn’t

johnny: that’s horrible how you think that

mark: i mean like in a way you know it’s just like water and a shore and then sand but now it’s different

renjun: in the case that this works out for me, i am going to go to the moon. i don’t want to live on this earth.

ten: *does a cute thing then looks at renjun* why are you looking at your hyung like that?

renjun: i’m scared

doni: can you do something like jeno did?

renjun: i don’t really understand korean that well

doni: suddenly? chenle, is there anything you can do?

chenle: i don’t understand...

*renjun and chenle high five*

renjun: i have an animal that i’m afraid of and i don’t have plans on revealing what it is

johnny: why? what animal is it

jeno: tell us!

renjun: it’s humans

renjun on weekly idol: i’m confident in korean

renjun anytime he doesn’t want to answer something: i’m not good at korean

renjun fluent in korean: korean is hard for me! :)

mr fluent in korean speaking in korean: i can’t speak korean though?

renjun to dream who know he’s fluent: i’m bad a korean you know

mark: we gathered up together in the early morning it’s nice

renjun: as we’ve been together since early in the morning, i’m tired of being together now

renjun: emergency exits remind me of nctzens

jeno: *spitting out his water*

renjun: today though such a fun program like idol room, i learned that the world is a cold and unfair place

mark: there’s so much generation difference between us

renjun pushing mark away: let’s keep our distance then

renjun: i wonder what it’ll be like when i become an adult, im worried i feel like i’ll have to be more responsible, but seeing mark.. there isn’t much to it, i mean he can drink now but that’s about it

yukhei: you see i’m born in the 80s so i don’t know about slang

renjun pointing to kun: what about that guy over there?

kun: *ready to murder*

sicheng: the scene where i appear-

renjun: YOU IMMEDIATELY DISAPPEAR

renjun to jeno: because you are even less fun than usual i am giving you this award

renjun: we’re so boring so fans must be pressing all the hearts out of boredom

renjun: so if i don’t win i have to pair up with the mc?

mc: yes

renjun: i should pull myself together then

mc: why are you so good at korean?

renjun: i’m not good at korean

doni: *grabs renjun because he’s a lying brat*

renjun: *happily showing the camera he is being attacked* why aren’t you fixing my clothes?

doni: *fixing renjuns shirt because he’s a king and it’s what he deserves*

renjun after losing every game: this is like we’re in a movie maybe there will be a big plot twist at the end

doni: there won’t

renjun: as expected from a biased pair of people

renjun and chenle talking

jisung: what are you guys saying?

renjun: if you want to know learn the language

mark: do we get a prize?

mc: we have an expensive gift prepared

renjun: now it’s worth doing!

chenle: wow my chinese is so good

renjun: nice! did you forget you’re chinese?

i cant remember who said this probably renjun: i think nct dream, you can say we are kind of a fun team, but when i look at the hyung team i feel frustrated, please gain strength hyungs

mark: ive been wearing the shoes renjun made, they’re very comfortable

renjun: i didnt make them comfortable i just drew on them

renjun: a spoiler? what if i get fired from the company?

donghyuck: get fired? us? get fired? lmao

kevin: jacob i’ve been waiting forever for this moment

jacob: waiting for what? waiting for me?

kevin: honey i see you everyday

jacob: the scent of autumn, the scent of leaves

kevin: we’re indoors but okay

kevin: kid, mama’s gotta dance

renjun: *speaks in chinese*

jeno: wow you are so good at chinese, did u study it a lot?

renjun: yes

ten: oh this is not icecream this is butter

johnny: there’s this thing too where girls call guys as “oh daddy” but not like a real dad

tens birthday note to johnny: i wanna have xxxx with you fatass! love you forever darling

mark: i don’t think we should read that

donghyuck: a six-pack is too heavy for me, so now i only walk around with a one-pack. i leave the other five behind.

nct: goodnight

mark: don’t let the bed bugs bite

ten: open your eyes

nct: NO CLOSE YOUR EYES! CLOSE YOUR EYES!

johnny: my dad knew i likes beans so like he was playing with beans, and he dropped it and then he dropped it on a rock and it slid and then hot water started falling, and then coffee

host: wow your english is really good

johnny: i’m from chicago

johnny: i chose fried mackerel, mackarol, mackarel, the fish, mackerol, mackerel, mackarel *cute shrug*

jungwoo: trip to space

johnny: you wanna go home?

mark: that’s where he came from

jungwoo: my friends are there

mark: that’s his home town

jacob: i cant compare to him so-

kevin: it’s okay jacob everyone’s an artist in their own way

kevin: fun fact i used to do gymnastics

jacob: SAME

kevin: oh really!!

jacob: and then i quit :)

chenle: talking to reporters-

jisung: harry potter

jisung in excitement: ha-REPORTER

kevin in distress: jacob you have no beyoncé in your library, what is this? WHAT IS THIS!?

jacob: no i respect her i love her music

kevin making a scissor motion with his hands: you know what this is? scissors. to cut our friendship.

jacob: why are you exposing me like that

kevin: i’m just kidding, if beyoncé can forgive jayz i can forgive you jacob”

kevin: jacob came back from canada with a suitcase full of cereal

donghyuck: oh canada, this is korea man don’t forget okay.

mark lee: wait chips means fries right?

kevin: sam if you’re out there i’m still waiting for you to *cough* TEXT ME BACK

jacob: and jeff i love you

tbz: awww

kevin: mY nAmE jEfF

chenle pointing at a roller coaster: do you wanna ride?

jisung: hell no i’ll die

chenle: jisung which sunglasses are better these or the other ones

jisung: both are mediocre

doyoung: that’s a difficult question because i don’t read

fan: comments something about renjun stealing their heart

renjun: i don’t know how to react to these types of comments... why are you all like this? everyone let’s self reflect...

renjun: pretend we’re close in front of the camera

donghyuck: we’re supposed to be close friends right? this is going to be hard

ten: xiaojun stop being dramatic challenge

taemin from shinee: *singing replay by shinee*

yukhei: that’s not it

yukhei *showing taemin from shinee how to sing a shinee song*

mark: *dying in the background*

bambam talking about got7’s first album: you know the time we thought we was so cool, we was so good, but then we look back and it’s like what the hell

jae: would you rather wake up in someone’s body or wake up without being able to communicate?

brian: i’d rather not communicate

jae: then you can’t sing

brian: i’m fine with that, my parents gifted me this body

day6: ??? the fuck ???

sungjin: what if you wake up in JYPs body one day?

day6:

day6: what about it. i love it. that’s would be lovely

jae: we love you boss 👍

jae: what would you forget?

dowoon: i ate some ants as a kid

wonpil: i ate pill bugs

sungjin: i ate soap

wonpil: everyone’s eaten soap, what about crayons?

jae: crayons???

wonpil: they looked delicious when i was a kid

brian: i’ve eaten them

sungjin: they must’ve tasted good

dowoon: *stuffing marshmallows in his mouth*

brian: no you can do more STOP CHEWING PUT IT IN

dowoon muffled: i think i’m going to die

brian: you think you’re going to die??

brian smiling: sorry he might die , he might choke to death

jae: *reaching over to stuff more marshmallows in dowoons mouth*

brian gets a dare to sing everything he says: dare or dare~

dowoon: oooowwooo~

brian: this is my dare don’t take it from me~

q: can you name my bird

renjun: ...if i say to name it “bird” will u want to hit me

#this was not meant to post #im screaming #i hate tumblr sm #if im editing something in my drafts shouldnt the button say save to draft not post?#it always had before #@ tumblr stop updating to make your app worse #im tired #and i hate it here #im deleting this app #i cant take it anymore

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