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sl-walker · 2 years

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Trek prompt: Scotty vs. the kittens! Somehow they wound up in Engineering and no one is claiming responsibility.

How very dare you. (Responsibility is claimed, but there is a kitten involved.)

Anyway, this takes place in early 2256, so well after where the series is on AO3. A note for anyone else reading: AotW was plotted long, long before Discovery or Strange New Worlds came out, so it doesn't fit the new stuff. But it does fit the old stuff!

It figured that the first real challenge to his new posting as Chief Engineer of the Enterprise had absolutely nothing to do with engineering.

Scotty was only beginning to get used to his promotion and appointment; it was just a week old now, and he still occasionally had to huff a breath out that fell somewhere between wondering laughter and actual anxiety.

But despite the fact he felt a wee bit like someone had lobbed a brick at his head and he was reeling around dazed in the aftermath, he knew he at least looked mostly like he was handling the huge shift his life had undergone when Captain Pike had handed him his letters and the astronomical responsibility that came with them. And it helped that he could go home -- Earth-home -- every night and find refuge with his family and the slower, more gentle pace of life in Midcoast Maine; it was awkward, yet, learning how to leave work at work, but having a niece and nephew to dote on went a long way towards it.

Any which way, he thought he was doing a fair job of seeming to be properly put together, at least until one of his temporary techs meowed at him.

The tech froze, back to him; Scotty's head went over to the side slowly, as he tried to figure out how he was supposed to react to that. Except maybe to tell the lad that he was a fine mimic, anyway; he did sound just like a kitten.

He went to open his mouth to say something -- hoping the words would leap into existence when he didn't actually know what they would be -- when the tech turned around with a resigned look and slumping shoulders. "Uh-- I can explain, Chief, I swear, I just--"

"Collins, is that a cat?" There was an orange fluffball in the lad's collar, against his neck; either it was a cat, if a very small one, or he had the kind of growth that would have Xenobiology quarantining the whole lot of them.

Collins winced. "Sir, I know we're not supposed to bring animals aboard, but I thought-- we're in the Fleet Yards, so it's not like we're out in open space, and she was out in the rain and her mother wasn't anywhere, so I thought maybe I would bring her just long enough to wait for my lunch break and then call somebody about taking her in, I mean, I have my PADD set to scan for any lost pet advisories from Chicago, and--"

Scotty was waiting for the kid to faint; Collins didn't take a single breath as he dumped that whole bucket of words out. But when it became clear that poor Collins was just going to keep going, he spoke up, holding a hand up to hopefully stall any more, "Calm down. I'm not about to go bringin' ye up on charges over a kitten, Collins." Especially given his own record. "Just--" Well, just what? he asked himself. "D'ye have a plan for if she doesn't have anyone lookin' for her?"

Collins cleared his throat, looking thoroughly abashed. "--no, sir. My roommate would probably kill me if I brought her home. And my parents already have dogs, and my grandmother has birds-- and-- well, maybe there's some kind of organization--?"

Scotty somehow managed not to start rubbing the bridge of his nose; he wasn't sure whether he was more exasperated or more amused yet. "All right. All right, stop what ye're doin', and look into it. And we'll see if we can't solve this before the end o' the day, aye?"

"Oh." Collins breathed out in clear relief. "Yessir. Uh-- d'you wanna hold her maybe?" he asked, extricating the fuzz from his collar -- which gave a tiny protesting meow -- before holding her out.

"That-- would be a very bad idea," Scotty said, except by the time he had those words out of his mouth, he also had the kitten in hand. Oh no, he thought, shaking his head to himself as Collins ran to get his PADD.

"Well, now what?" he asked the fluffball.

The kitten made to climb up his shirt in answer.

"Chief--" Captain Pike's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed, and he leaned forward a little from where he was clearly behind his desk, expression openly baffled. "--where did you...?"

Scotty bit down a sigh, knowing full well he was blushing and unable to do a single damn thing about it. "One o' my techs found her on the way to work, Captain. I'm not quite sure how he got her past the transporter operator in Chicago, though. But I swear, she'll be off the ship by the end o' the dayshift."

The fact that the kitten was perched on his shoulder probably made for a surreal image. Pike certainly seemed amused by it, anyway. "I see. Well, I was going to ask if you had time to go over the phase three schedule, but-- clearly you have enough on your shoulders right now. I'll leave you to it."

There was the distinctive snap of a screen capture being taken, but by the time Scotty opened his mouth to protest about it and that really awful joke -- which would have been bold, aye, but necessary -- Pike had already cut the connection, though not before the first note of laughter sounded through the comm.

The kitten was purring up a storm in his ear, even as he rubbed over his face with a groan.

Thankfully, the little thing slept through most of the rest of the shift, curled up in a nest he made out of his civilian coat.

Unfortunately, they hadn't actually come up with any real plan for what to do with her.

And also unfortunately, he had to field eight different calls or notes from other senior staff members, which was especially difficult because he was still wrapping his brain around the fact he was one of them now.

And all of whom now had a picture of him playing cat-perch, no less.

"I can't just take her and put her back, Chief," Collins said, all but wringing his hands as he paced back and forth in front of Scotty's desk.

"No, that ye can't." And they were running out of both time and options.

Animal welfare laws and and strict control of the companion animal population meant that the need for rescue organizations was nearly non-existent; strays were almost completely unheard of, and on the incredibly rare occasion there was a stray that wasn't chipped and registered, it usually was rehomed quickly.

But-- no one was missing a kitten in Chicago, and no one was looking for her, and somehow she had come into existence despite all of the laws in place that would otherwise normally prevent such a thing.

Which meant that she needed somewhere to go.

"What do we do?" Collins asked, stopping his pacing -- thank everything, his pacing nearly had Scotty getting up to do the same -- and looking somehow both exhausted and pleading.

Well, it was an engineer's job to solve problems. Even, apparently, problems like these.

Scotty looked at the orange fluffball as she stretched, then yawned, then peered at them with eyes that hadn't even changed color from blue yet, and finally gave into that several-hours-old urge to rub at the bridge of his nose as he answered, "Well, ye're gonna go clean up her temporary litter box and get squared away, and I'm gonna call around and see about findin' her a home. At least until or unless someone in Chicago puts out a notice."

Collins practically melted to the floor in relief. "Thank you, sir," he said, and then he was out the door in a blur of gray boiler suit, probably so he could disappear before Scotty could change his mind.

"Corrigan here."

"So, I have this dilemma--" Scotty started, without any preamble, at least until the dilemma decided to meow, a little on the shrill side, no doubt hungry, especially now that the galley was shut down for the day and no more fish paste could be, uh-- repurposed into kitten food.

Corry's voice was both awed and rushed. "--oh my god, where did you get a cat? Is it a kitten. Tell me it's a kitten?"

Well, that didn't sound like a bad response. Scotty knew Cor had a couple cats when he was younger, but at least for the past fourteen years, the family hadn't had any pets. "Aye, it's a kitten. One o' my techs found her, felt bad for her and then brought her aboard. I know Allie and Aaron aren't old enough for pets, but d'ye think Mom and Dad--?" he asked, wincing despite the fact that it couldn't be seen.

"We'll figure something out, just bring her home. I'll stop and grab some stuff, and I'll have Mom and Dad meet us in Augusta, and we can take her back home and see, and oh man, it's been a long time since we've had cats, our last one was twenty-one when he died and then I shipped off to Basic and we just never really had a chance to have another one--"

"--right," Scotty said quietly, pretty much entirely to himself, sinking deeper into his chair in relief as his brother kept on chattering about the Corrigan cats of yore, with a headshake and a grin.

Problem solved, then.

Ten minutes -- and three stories about cat antics -- later, he picked up the kitten and held her against his chest as he headed out the door.

"Don't worry," he told her, "they're really good at takin' in strays."

(She may not have understood, but she had a home by the end of the night, one former stray brought there by another.)

#scotty #arc of the wolf #actual fluff

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babeyloser · 1 year

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TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

omg :0 thank you for the tag, my sibling in gyjo hell heaven @cowboycakes (˘ ε˘ʃƪ)

favorite colour(s): maroon

favorite flavour(s): sweet n creamy, strawberry anything :)

favorite genre(s): uuuh of what?????

favorite music: on a bluegrass kick rn

favorite movie(s): Everything Everywhere All at Once, the Cornetto trilogy, Ever After, Parasite, Creep, Your Name Engraved Herein (sobs cries shits self)

favorite series: not Jojo (I prefer fanworks to the source material tbh), Sk8 the Infinity, Ouran, Given, Hilda, Shaun the Sheep, and a bunch of other bl & shoujo nonsense

last song: Bringin’ Home the Rain by The Builders & The Butchers it’s so good bro i cum evrytiem

last movie: Pinocchio—but I fell asleep during it :/

currently reading: Heaven Officials Blessing and the last volume of Boys Run the Riot

currently watching: Inuyasha & Metalocalypse

currently working on: Gyro/Reader stuffing fic; Nick/Johnny hcs (probably won't post either--at least not here)

tagging the cute blogger reading this (=˃ᴥ˂=)

#ask game #babey talk

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just-another-pokemon-trainer · 1 year

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So, funny story. These two versions of this song are incredibly different when compared with eachother. Found it very interesting how much the live version differed from the original.

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy (if anyone even cares about this post series I'm doing)

#pokeblogging #songs i like #Spotify

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britishassistant · 4 years

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But I Like One Piece (1)

She was twenty when she died.

She’d just graduated with a double first in Literature and Preservation from Exeter. She’d been accepted into a prestigious master’s school in London.

She’d moved into a basement flat with her best friend and a couple of his friends. She’d been glad to escape her childhood house, where her mum and dad traded vicious words over who was getting how much in the divorce.

She’d promised her brother she’d get him out too, once she had a stable place that the courts would approve of. She had been due to interview for a job at a big bookstore chain next week.

And then someone had broken in while her flatmates were out. She shouldn’t have grabbed the knife. That just made the armed man freak out.

The last thing she remembered was a bang, and the blubbered words “I didn’t mean to!”

She wakes up as a baby.

She waves her arms around and cries as an unfamiliar lady with brown hair and brown eyes bends down over her crib, hushing her with more urgency than is really warranted.

Rain hammers down outside and thunder rumbles directly overhead.

Then a man with blue hair and grey eyes arrives. He stinks of copper, and that makes her wail harder.

The man and woman confer, words too fast for her to understand.

Then the man gently presses a cloth which smells chemical and awful to her face, hushing and looking at her with sad eyes while the woman strokes her head.

She struggles, but eventually swirling red circles dance before her eyes and she succumbs to sleep.

She grows, and learns that she is not anywhere remotely like her home anymore.

She looks in mirrors and sees grey eyes like the man’s, brown hair like the woman’s, hair too straight, eyes too angular, skin too pale.

Her new name is Ketsugi Mayu. The woman’s name is Ketsugi Chie, the man’s is Ketsugi Jirou.

They live in a little house, on the outskirts of a village that’s nothing like the village she previously grew up in. It’s too big, too bustling, with large compounds with symbols decorating the exteriors and brightly painted buildings, flat roofs alternating with asian-style pagodas.

Faces carved into a mountainside like a bastardization of Mount Rushmore. Huge trees everywhere, though she couldn’t tell you the type. She never was any good at biology.

Her “parents” escaped to this village from the rainy place before. Both of them work, but the woman takes her with her, or comes back first.

She gets the feeling their neighbors don’t like them very much.

Despite the electricity for lights and plumbing and cooking, there are not electronic communication devices, not like she knew them. Photography, but no video or animation.

Calculators and computers are unheard of, abacus and notebooks in their place.

The food is good though. Fresh and flavorsome, with meals that are usually served in what she mentally called “plate-2-bowls” style, a bowl of rice, a bowl of soup, and a meat or vegetable dish in the center.

The woman she is supposed to call her “mother” scolded her for ages the first time she dumped the rice out of the bowl onto the plate and tried to eat it that way.

The man she is supposed to call her “father” just laughed and said how lucky they were to have a daughter who would eat everything given to her.

And she did. Even if she doesn’t like the flavors, she eats it all and leaves no scraps.

One Piece taught her that those who waste food are scum, after all. She’ll never learn how the series ended now, so she does her best to live up to the ideals of her favorite characters in its place.

She probably should’ve seen it coming in the end.

The story she was read at bedtime was called “The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi”. There were constantly people dressed in dark clothes jumping across the roofs.

There were stalls in the market that sold throwing knives and stars and japanese swords.

But she didn’t realize exactly what world she’d been reincarnated into until she sees a little boy around her age, with blonde hair and blue eyes and three familiar lines like whisker marks across each cheek.

He’s racing away from a severe woman dripping with orange paint, cackling even as she screams, “GET BACK HERE NARUTO, YOU LITTLE DEMON!!”

She’s four, so she promptly bursts into tears and remains in a strop for the rest of the week.

Naruto doesn’t have food.

It’s dumb and doesn’t involve her and she shouldn’t care because she never even read this series because it was stupid and sexist and dumb and pirates will always be better than ninjas no matter what stupid morons on the internet who have no interpersonal relationships say—

But Naruto doesn’t have food.

She saw the food vendors at the market slap away his money, yell at him for trying to steal from them, chase him away from their stalls with rotten produce.

And he goes away empty handed.

Every. Damn. Time.

Sanji wouldn’t let him go empty handed.

Fuck.

She buys three lunch boxes and an “easy cook recipes” book from a lady who coos at her.

She buys extra rice and ingredients so that she doesn’t use up her “family’s” food.

She decides on a sweeter, more protein-focused meal for breakfast, and presses rashers of bacon and scrambled eggs between slices of crusty bread, filling the compartments with orange slices and strawberries and a plain yogurt.

For lunch she tries and fails to recreate Ketsugi Chie’s perfectly triangular rice balls filled with salmon, but consoles herself that the cucumber and seaweed salad turned out okay, To make up for it, she sticks a packet of gummies in the dessert bit.

She shadowed him the evening before, and so wakes up obscenely early, tugging on the clothes she wore yesterday.

She deposits the food outside his door, checks the sticky notes with “BREAKFAST” and “LUNCH” on them are secure.

Then she raps on the door with all the power her little fists can muster and bolts.

She’s about halfway down the street when she hears the overexcited whoops and fights to keep a smile off her face.

That night, when she comes bearing a thermos filled with miso soup and a box with rice, baked salmon with mushrooms, and dango, the other two are stacked neatly outside the door, licked clean.

She deposits dinner, grabs the other boxes, knocks again, and bolts so she can make curfew.

Here’s her routine.

She goes to bed and falls asleep instantly after preparing that boy’s breakfast and lunch.

She wakes up early and runs through the village while the streets are still asleep and deposits his food, collecting his dinner box and the feedback sheet, knocks and goes, avoiding any traps he’s set up to try and catch her on his endless quest for her identity.

They’re harmless, more intended to snare rather than hurt, and she’s gotten good at dodging.

She gets home in time for her “parents” to wake up, washes up the box while they shower, and goes upstairs to get ready for the day.

Ketsugi Jirou makes her run through katas before breakfast. Sometimes he lets her practice with the wooden sword he carries, and laughs when she falls over, kissing her bruises.

Ketsugi Chie serves breakfast and corrects her table manners and posture. After Jirou has kissed them both and left, she is given lessons in calligraphy and etiquette.

Sometimes Ketsugi Chie takes her along to her job at a tearoom, and she has to observe as her “mother” elegantly serves the patrons and makes polite conversation.

Sometimes she’s left to clean the house and study the books on the history of her family. There are many, but more are missing, references they have no source for.

At lunchtime, she reviews the feedback sheet, making notes of what worked and what didn’t.

She’s supposed to play outside after lunch, so she runs laps. Once Ketsugi Chie’s shift is over, the woman either collects her from home or goes with her straight to the market for food.

She begins making Naruto’s portion the moment groceries are put away, serves it hot and runs it over. She picks up the empty lunch boxes and paper, deposits the dinner, knocks, and runs away.

She eats dinner with her “mother” and “father”. Jirou quizzes her on what she’s learned.

After dinner she washes up the dishes and makes tomorrow’s lunch and breakfast while her parents tell her a bedtime story.

Then she cleans up after herself, and goes to bed, falling asleep instantly.

It’d be nice if this could last.

So of course, the next time she deposits breakfast and lunch, an adult dressed in black with a white mask tackles her to the ground.

She barely avoids spilling the food, clutching it to her chest with one arm as the other is twisted viciously behind her back.

She screams, tries to kick out, but her legs are too little, she can’t hurt the bastard—

The lunchboxes creak ominously under her.

“Who sent you?!” The adult hisses—there’s no way that’s not a man, not with that baritone— “Drop the henge and tell me, or I’ll—”

Something twangs.

A mass of rope drops onto them, followed by chalk dust.

“HAH!” Comes a much higher-pitched yell. “I told you I’d get ‘em, believe it, I told—wait, what the heck?! Jiji, mask-guy’s hurtin’ my friend!”

The click of a cane and the sound of an old man’s voice. “Hound-san.”

The pressure on her arm lessens and the adult gets up, though he doesn’t let go of her. She wheezes, feeling her eyes watering now she can breathe properly.

She hiccups once. Twice. Bursts into floods of noisy tears.

A blurry figure of orange comes into her view. “Hey, hey don’t cry, don’t cry! It’s okay, mask-guy won’t hurt you anymore, Jiji won’t let him, believe it! Yo-you’re the one bringin’ me the food, right? It tastes really good, believe it! M-my name’s Naruto, wh-what’s y-yours? Plea-please don’t—”

The blur of orange begins crying as well.

“Oh dear.” The old man sighs.

The old man takes them to the tower in the center of the village, drawing curious stares at the sight of two wailing children, one bleached white by chalk dust, following him.

The tower is scary. It reminds her of government buildings, with lots of people in green or grey jackets or white masks moving from one place to the next like fire ants, ready to turn and bite intruders to their nest at a moment’s notice.

She doesn’t work out who the queen ant is until the old man sits behind the big desk in the room at the top of the tower, and another mask brings her and Naruto water at his gesture.

“Now, let’s get to the bottom of this, shall we?” Says the old man, smiling genteelly.

A shiver goes down her spine.

The questions should be easy. What’s her name, how old is she, where does she live, who are her parents, where do they work, does she have any siblings, what are her hobbies.

But her tongue is stuck to the top of her mouth and when she tries to speak, she just makes a pathetic little croaking sound, no matter how much water she swallows.

The man who hurt her gets more and more tense with every failed answer.

The old man just looks sadder, like she’s failing a test, like he’s going to let the mask hurt her again—

Naruto asks, “Can you make ramen?”

She swallows. “I—I’ve never had it. I don’t know the ingredients. Is, is it like miso?”

“It’s WAY better than miso, believe it!” Naruto yells. “It’s got noodles and green onions and fish cakes and pork and tofu and chicken and fish and seaweed, and sometimes the broth can taste like miso but better and sometimes it can be spicy and Ichiraku’s is the best, and I’ll take you there so you can have some, believe it!”

She frowns. “How can it have pork and chicken and fish? That doesn’t work. Those meats go with different flavors—like chicken katsu and pork katsu are served with different toppings.”

He blows a raspberry. “They’re not all in the same bowl at one time! There’s different types.”

Her mind ticks over the possibilities. “...So a dashi broth for miso could work? What type of flour are the noodles?”

He shrugs. “I’unno. There’s different types?”

“Of course there are!” And she tells him about wheat vs buckwheat vs rye vs rice flour, and how flour mixed with water can serve as food in a pinch but isn’t sustainable for him because he’s malnourished—

“I’m not mal-no-ished, believe it!” Naruto protests.

She scoffs. “Don’t be stupid. Look, try to touch your thumb and pointer finger around your wrist.”

He looks at her warily, but does as she says easily. There’s enough space between his hand and his wrist that she could wriggle her little finger in there, if she tried.

“See?” She says, holding up her own wrist where her thumb can’t quite reach her finger. “You’re too skinny, because you don’t eat enough. You need to bulk up, and eat to get your vitamins, or you’ll grow up weak and feeble.”

The boy pouts. “S’not my fault the stupid jerkwads in the market won’t sell to me.” He grumbles.

“No, it isn’t.” She replies. “But they sell to me. And those who let people go hungry are scum.”

There’s a wounded noise. She looks up at the forgotten adults, tensing again.

The masked man has vanished. The old man just looks tired, but also...happy?

The old man walks her and Naruto home, and she glimpses many more white masks in the trees. The idea that any one could hurt her at any time has her trembling, fists clenched.

“What’s your name, anyway?” Naruto asks, clutching his lunchboxes close.

“Mayu.” She replies after a moment’s hesitation. “Ketsugi Mayu. I’m five and ten months.”

“I’m Uzumaki Naruto and I’m six, believe it!” He cheers. “Imma be the Hokage one day and take over from Jiji, believe it!”

She frowns up at the old man. “What’s a hokage?”

He laughs. “It’s the ninja entrusted with the safety of the village and all those within. The Hokage specifically is the leader of this Village Hidden in the Leaves, Konoha.”

She looks around.

“This place is way too big to be a village, no matter how you look at it.”

Her parents burst out the door just as they arrive at her house, her father clutching his bokken, her mother still in nightclothes.

They blanch when they see her, the woman reaching out with an abortive hand.

The Hokage bows to them. “Ketsugi-san.” He says. “May I congratulate you on raising such a fine daughter?”

Ketsugi Jirou bows hesitantly back, eyes not leaving her. He has to press a hand to Chie’s shoulder to get her to do the same. “You honor us, Hokage-sama.”

The Hokage smiles and gently pushes her. She totters forward and is swiftly captured in a crushing hug, both adults muttering “Mayu, Mayu.” Like she’ll disappear if they let go.

Her eyes begin watering again, because she’s escaped. She’s safe. For now.

“Otou-sama.” She whimpers. “Okaa-sama.”

She mentally apologizes to her parents in her past life, and the brother she left behind. In their memory, her new family will remain “Otou” and “Okaa”, never “Mummy” and “Daddy”.

“OI, MAYU-CHAN!!”

She half-turns in the hug, sees Naruto and the Hokage some distance away.

“COME GET RAMEN WITH ME TOMORROW!! ICHIRAKU'S IS THE BEST, BELIEVE IT!!” He yells, with far too much volume.

She sniffles. There’s something wrong with Naruto. He lives alone and borderline starves, but the ruler of this village visits him enough that he calls the man “jiji”. People in the street call him “demon” and “monster” openly, but the masked man attacked her for approaching him.

The smart thing to do would be turn him down politely. Thank you, but no thank you. She’s his food provider, she’s not under any obligation to be his friend.

So, of course, she yells back, “EAT YOUR FOOD AND I'LL BE THERE!”

He pumps his fist and whoops, cheering loudly as the Hokage smiles and guides him away.

Mayu Ketsugi and her parents tense as the accusing, silent stares pierce them.

The neighbors never liked them much anyway.

#naruto #one piece #but i like one piece #my writing #reincarnation #isekai #naruto uzumaki #kakashi hatake #hiruzen sarutobi #pirates vs ninjas #konoha #fandom rivalry #naruto oc #ketsugi mayu #food #cooking #straw hat pirates

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deniigi · 4 years

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Ok, so I’ve read a some fics in a couple of ur AUs (dumpster fire and selkie verse (mostly peter fics because I’m obsessed with him)) and I looked on ur tumblr and saw stuff for little spidey? What’s that? I also read a ficlet that I think was into the multiverse w/ little peter a daredevil who was going to be ordered to kill him? Could you explain that? I want to get into your other AUs, but they seem a bit confusing... Basically, can I get a brief overview of ur AUs (+ peter’s role in them)1/2

2/2 I really love the stuff I’ve already read from you and really want to read some of your other stuff!

hello anon!

The reason the AUs are confusing is because you’re coming into them halfway through! The best way to know what’s going on with the AUs is to go to their series pages and read the first fic, honestly, but I can understand that that can be a little intimidating because Ao3 will not let me condense the tags for series (does anyone know how to do this??)

I’ve explained my big 4 verses here (links to these verses are located here)

These consist of In Technicolor, Inimitable Verse, The DFV, and Into the Multiverse.

But! since you have given me an excuse to plug these again and all the smaller/less popular verses in between those, I’m going to take it! (Spiderman appears in most of them because I adore Peter with my whole heart, but there are a couple Daredevil specific ones that I can’t help pointing out)

———————————–

In Technicolor

Single fic - Currently 21 chapters

Outsider POV, Vigilante Culture, Brett Mahoney-centric

Starts off as DD focused, but Spiderman ends up playing an equal, if not greater part.

Inimitable Verse

Series - 18 pieces (Read chaptered pieces in order. Others can be read however you want)

Aged-up Peter, A different kind of Homecoming, copy cat vigilantes step in where others have abandoned the city, Team Red expands, most chaptered works are plot heavy

Little Spidey (the one you’re asking about) is one of three copy-cat Spidermen who Peter encounters in this verse. Him, her, Louis (another copy cat) and Miles Morales eventually come together to form a four-man Spiderman team that goes around kicking ass and taking names.

The Dumpster Fires Verse

Series - Complete. 41 pieces (non-essential to read in order)

Slice of Life fics, Team dynamics, Team bonding, Peter, Matt, and Wade grow up and grow closer and we grow with them

Into the Multiverse

Series - 19 pieces (mostly important to read in order)

Blondie!Spidey lives, emotional hurt/comfort, real finding-yourself vibes.

Each branch of the multiverse tries to restabilize itself and build a team in the aftermath of ITSV.

The Lighter Fluid Verse

Series - 5 pieces (non-essential to read in order)

Continuation of the DFV except on my terms, no longer tied in with the overarching arch of the DFV. Just a bunch of side-fics

Electric Sheep

Series - Complete. 11 pieces (essential to read in order)

no Peter, sadly.

DD Android AU, plot-fic. Matt is an android built for fighting wars; he ends up as an IT bot at Columbia University where he meets Foggy who tries to help him recover his humanity.

Selkie Verse

Series - 7 pieces and counting (essential to read in order)

Fae and Fairies AU, based heavily off of the film The Song of the Sea and Irish folklore.

Peter is a witch-in-training in this AU and has given his heart (Howl and Calcifer style) to Johnny Storm, a fledgling fire demon. He’s off on a quest to help Selkie!Matt Murdock get his coat back.

Rain City Verse

Single fic - 2 chapters

Dark AU, Kingpin!Foggy Nelson, Matt acting as Peter’s Parental Figure, body horror, dubious everything, vast manipulation (This is where the little Peter you are referring to is from, he’s 12yo).

Kingpin Foggy catches Daredevil and spares his life, then uses that to manipulate the ever-loving shit out of him to get what he wants. Peter shows up in chapter 2 as a super-mutated spider-child who Matt is caring for in the wake of Aunt May’s death.

Lying By Omission Verse

2 Fics

my CHILD. (I love this verse dearly). Back-to-life AU, emotional hurt/comfort.

A scientist brings Ben Parker, Jonathan Murdock, Vanessa Carlysle, and Maria Castle back from the dead to use them to get information to help destroy Spiderman, Daredevil, Deadpool, and the Punisher.

Foggy deals with the legal fallout. Peter and Ben get reunited in this piece and they are so toothachingly sweet.

All Hallows Verse

2 Fics

Jack Murdock is DD verse.

tiny, baby shared verse between me and @gaykravitz.

Give ‘Em an Our Father Verse

Single Fic

another dark(er) fic. DP and DD-centric, plot-fic, kidnapping and bringin’ ‘em home.

A shittier than ever faction of the Hand kidnaps Matt to get him to work for them. Wade goes after him after Peter gets too hurt to help.

These are the main ones, anon. There are standalone fics about Peter scattered through my works page, too, but I’ve got a dissertation to write and not a whole lot of time for sorting right now.

I hope this gives you a good start! I would give you more details (characters that come up, tropes that have been established, etc) except that would take away from the fun of reading the series :)

#fic #spiderman #daredevil #deadpool #fic recs #are they recs if they're mine??#i guess #whatever I have so much work to do y'all I will probably work on updating the selkie verse this week but can't promise much else #the next 2 months are going to be hard as hell as I finish up my dissertation

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whatisdereklisteningto · 5 years

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Volume 7 of The Bootleg Series is an interesting companion to the film No Direction Home, consisting of unreleased material from 1959 to 1966. Disc one gets good once you get to the live and alternate takes. ”Man of Constant Sorrow,” “Don’t Think Twice,” “It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue” and the live “Masters of War,” “Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall,” and “When the Ship Comes In” are the highlights there. Disc two is all live and alternate takes of stuff from Bringin’ It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited and Blonde on Blonde (and thus the “better” of the two.) Hard to pick favorites cuz they’re all tunes I like and the different arrangements on the alternate takes are all pretty cool. “It Takes A Lot to Laugh,” “Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues,” “Stuck Inside of Mobile” (despite some fumbled lyrics), “Visions of Johanna” and “Desolation Row” in particular are kinda awesome and the live cuts include going electric at Newport on “Maggie’s Farm”, the famous “Judas! / play it fuckin’ loud” version of “Like A Rolling Stone” and a killer “Ballad of a Thin Man.”

#Bob Dylan #The Bootleg Series Vol. 7 #No Direction Home: The Soundtrack #CD #double

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thoughtsofamillenialfag · 6 years

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Mariah Carey - Charmbracelet

“The Elusive Chanteuse“ , “Songbird Supreme“ and “Leader of the Lambs“ , Mariah Carey has graced the music industry and world alike with her undeniable talent since the 90s and lambs like myself have followed her every step of the way ! From the effortless shade to the gorgeous ensembles and just the sheer excellence that is Mariah , Miss Carey to me is the quintessential gay icon and the ONLY artist artist qualified to receive my first ever album review.

The album of choice is “Charmbracelet” . As Carey’s ninth studio album , Charmbracelet was released in 2002 where Mariah found herself at her lowest point thus far in her career. Her highly anticipated first feature film “Glitter” was a box office flop (I personally love it lmao) and she had been subject to a vicious media onslaught that attacked and questioned her mental health ; accusing her even of attempted suicide when in reality she was simply suffering from severe exhaustion. For evident reasons , Carey’s next album needed to be a statement ! Something to shut down the critics and reassure everyone that despite troubled times she still got it - and boy did she deliver with Charmbracelet !

The opening track and first single off of the album: “Through The Rain” is a classic Mariah ballad as she starts almost whispering her way through the verses , only to unleash a series of heartfelt and powerful belts throughout the bridge and final choruses. Whilst most ballads by Carey tend to fade into the back of her discography , Through The Rain holds it’s own as the message to “keep pressing on steadfastly // And you’ll find what you need to prevail” could not come at a better time from Mariah ; cementing that she herself has overcome her troubles and we can all do the same.

The message of strength continues within the album as songs like “The One” and “Yours” show that Mariah is slaying just as much at love as she is in general with “Clown” (the most eloquently written diss track ever released) negating any confusion as to whether or not Mariah is to be messed with. Delivering viper tongued lyrics , such as “ you’re just a puppet show // And the little boy inside // Often sits at home alone // And cries , cries , cries , cries” in the softest ad sweetest of tones , the words clarity and conviction come to mind. This is the voice and penmanship of a woman who went through hell to rediscover who she was ; she was ready to live in her truth , whether that meant abolishing romance rumours or even reaching out to lost lovers as she did in album standout “Subtle Invitation”.

Subtle Invitation recaptures the listeners attention after a trio of perfectly enjoyable but easily forgettable tracks (You Had Your Chance , Lullaby and Irresistible). The sound of drums are a foreign but welcomed sound as Carey begins to sweetly sing what sounds like a love letter on top of a slightly upbeat , funky instrumental. Mariah is smooth and calm with her delivery , citing “If she hurts you or misleads you // Baby, all you really need to do // Is call me and let love rush in.” By the end of the song however Carey is done with sugarcoating how badly she wants a second shot at love with this guy ; referring to his new girl as “a damn fool” should she ever hurt him. The sounds of regret bleed effortlessly into another album standout : Def Leppard cover “Bringin’ On The Heartbreak”. Amongst previous remixes and covers of Carey’s , this one is for sure one of the best ! R’n’B runs and a flurry of perfect transitions couldn’t feel less out of place on a rock ballad (not to mention that insane whistle note at the end!)

The final four tracks are the perfect way to fade the album out, providing soft but stellar vocals from Mariah as well as collaborations from the likes of Busta Rhymes , Jadakiss and Kelly Price. Despite not being Mariah’s best work , nor most successful , Charmbracelet to me is criminally underrated. The album consists of musical moments with the inclusion of tracks like Through The Rain , Clown , My Saving Grace , Subtle Invitation etc.. and also marks a historic moment within the life and career of Miss Carey , as well as within the music industry as we know it. It was the first time Mariah made a comeback and she came back swinging.

Overall , I’d give Charmbracelet a 7/10. When the songs are right , they’re right but some just sound too samey for my personal taste.

Favourite to Least Favourite tracks

The One

Yours

Bringin’ On The Heartbreak

Subtle Invitation

Clown

Through The Rain

I Only Wanted / My Saving Grace

Through The Rain (Remix)

Irresistible

You Had Your Chance

You Got Me

I Know What You Want

Sunflowers For Alfred Roy

Lullaby

Miss You

Boy (I Need You)

#mariah carey #mariah #charmbracelet #album #album review #music #review #carey

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citrus-moonlight · 4 months

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Woven

- a Bringin' Home the Rain Interlude -

"Bringin' Home the Rain" Master List: [ Part One ] 🌹 [ Part Two: "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" ] Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F Reader Chapters: 1 of 1 Word count: 3.9k Rating: Explicit

Summary: As winter begins to settle in, the darkening days are unexpectedly brightened when you end up with the chance to spend a little more time with Ulysses Klaue.

Summary: Explicit! Rating, Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Smut, Public Teasing, Semi-Public Touching, Yes There's a Bed and Breakfast, Hotel Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, You Have to Be Quiet, Klaue is Still a Menace But He's a Soft Menace, Fingering, Being Held Down, Reference to Edging, Unprotected PIV, Creampie, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation

A/N: So I seem to have written some fluff, and holiday fluff, no less. I mean, it's still smutty fluff, and while I did go back and forth a bit with this, I really just wanted soft!Klaue, and finally reminded myself it's my story and I can write what I want (and apparently in whatever order I want 😂).

Also, yes, this this falls between the next two chapters of "Salvation is a Deep Dark Well" that as of this telling haven't been written yet. However it doesn't affect the rest of the story, it's more of a very self-indulgent interlude, and while I may come back to edit in a few details once chapter two is published, it doesn't change the narrative.

As always thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this slightly late holiday fluff. ❤️

Header by me, banners/dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics. ❤️

[ A03 Link ]

Shades of early December silver and grey are rapidly setting over the landscape, the dark even faster.

Although the sun doesn’t set much earlier than it would if you were in New York City (ten minutes to be exact), being in the mountains makes it seem as though it does, and as the days tick by you find yourself craving a bit of light.

The holidays are coming, so you take the excuse to drape a strand of lights over your dresser, the soft glow helping to warm the nights a little.

Still, you’re quickly becoming bored of winter, and it's only exacerbated by the new loneliness that works its way between your ribs when Klaue is gone - which is, of course, most of the time. You can only fill your days with so much work, and now that snow is settling into the mountains your options for distraction are growing limited.

Among your searches for things to occupy you, holiday festivals come up, and after a little more investigation you discover that Bucharest has a Christmas market that happens to be the largest winter festival in Romania, with the opening night and tree lighting ceremony this coming weekend.

Klaue wasn’t supposed to be getting back for a couple more days and while you’d mentioned your plans to him, when you step onto the train platform you nearly trip over your boots when you recognize a familiar form.

Your stomach flips and something else swirls lower when you see him standing among the other passengers, hands in the pockets of a heavy black wool coat.

He hasn’t seen you yet so you make your way over to him, staying just behind his shoulder.

“Come here often?”

Klaue turns with a start, appearing as though he’s about to say something but his words falter when his eyes catch on your bundled form.

A coy grin slowly curves your lips at catching him off guard.

“Got in a little early, came here straight from the airport to see if I could catch you.” he finally explains “I’ll still need to make some phone calls, but I’ve freed up the rest of my day. If you’d like some company. But if you- ”

“Of course, yes!” You assure him, a newly familiar warmth in your chest that he met you here, that he’s offering. “How could I not take advantage of you being back early.”

As eager as you are, there’s still a layer of uncertainty.

It’s the first time you’ve spent any time with Klaue outside of the compound. Not to mention that very little of the time you have spent together has passed while you weren’t desperately wrapped in one another - certainly not a full day.

Though maybe it’s better this way; less time to overthink, less time to anticipate, simply having to adapt to a new situation. You’re good at that, you remind yourself.

It doesn’t mean that your thoughts aren’t tinged with frustration, because even though he’d only been gone a few days this time your body is already humming with desire as you board the busy train and settle into your seats against the window.

You manage to watch the scenery for a while, focusing on the mountains and the forests interspersed with other, smaller cities as you approach the capital, but your gaze is steadily drawn back to Klaue while he works across from you.

Your eyes drift to his mouth, the memory of his growl when you nip and tug at the pouting curve of his lower lip leaving you shifting in your seat.

The motion draws his eyes to your hips before sliding up your body with a knowing look.

The full train douses any chance of much more than heated glances, but as you look around you, you note that the passengers across the aisle seem to be thoroughly engrossed in their own conversations and devices.

And you get an idea.

Appearing to casually adjust your things, you move your coat to your side facing the aisle, bunching it so that it blocks your legs from the view of anyone not standing over you.

Or sitting across from you.

Klaue’s posture stiffens when he catches the movement of your hand along the seam where your crossed legs meet.

You keep your arm still so that just your wrist slowly flexes, shivering as your fingers sweep up and over the place between your thighs that’s already warm with arousal, before retracing the path back down again.

He's utterly still except for the muscles tensing in his jaw, eyes intent on the slow drag of your fingers.

When he licks his lips your breathing becomes shallower. The gentle tingling in your nerves spreads through your thighs to swirl deep in your core, and you realize you’re rapidly becoming more aroused than you anticipated, and as much as you had thrilled at a chance to tease him you’re going to need to stop.

You hand stills and you take a slow breath to collect yourself, reaching into your bag for your phone hoping to distract yourself for the rest of the ride. But even before you can unlock it a message notification pops up on your screen.

>Who said you could stop?

Your eyes widen, finding Klaue’s gaze sparking blue and expectant when you look up at him.

Patiently waiting for your phone to disappear back into your bag.

For your fingers return to their activity.

Clearly pleased that your tease has been turned on you, a smug grin on his lips when your eyelids flutter.

The light touch isn’t enough to get you close, but it’s enough to make you ache, to leave you fighting to suppress the shivers that roll through you with the slick clench of your cunt as you watch his eyes darken.

Glancing down between where his hands rest on his broad thighs you can see the fabric beginning to strain there, the ache deepening at the thought of his stiffening cock, but you’re satisfied at least that he’s not unaffected by your state.

Wrapped up in the haze of sensation you start when the conductor’s voice comes over the speaker to announce that you’ll be coming into Bucharest in less than ten minutes.

Hitching a sigh, the world around you filters back in, and you bite your lip at the realization of what you had been doing, of how easily he once again had you giving in to him, even here.

Eventually you take your phone back out, trying to calm yourself down before you reach your stop.

It’s late afternoon by the time the bus drops you off at the outskirts of the market grounds, only a brief glimpse of sun left as it slides between the clouds and the horizon, but you still have plenty of time to explore before the tree lighting.

Making your way through the busy streets you take in the festive decorations, a popular restaurant absolutely dripping with evergreen boughs and giant candy canes, innumerable strings of lights already illuminating the streets as dusk settles over the city

As you make your way through the streets, you begin to think that it might have been a better idea to book a hotel room rather than taking the late train back tonight, but it’s too late now, everything is likely booked solid in the area.

If it had just been you then you would have figured something out, found a cheap place on the outskirts of the city, but since Klaue is with you you’re hesitant to ask. On top of not wanting to be presumptuous of his time, while you’ve spent as much time together as you could since that first night, you haven’t woken up next to him before.

You don’t dwell in your conflicted thoughts for long, though, because you nearly get taken out by a group of Hora dancers as you round the corner of a cobblestone street.

Klaue quickly maneuvers you out of the way of the oblivious dancers lost in their steps, your arms instinctively reaching to tighten around his waist as you laugh at your lack of awareness.

“I've got you,” he chuckles, not letting you go. “Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” You assure him. “Apparently I need to pay a bit more attention around here. ”

Being pressed against his body warms you and your eyes can’t help but flick to his mouth again, startled by how badly you want to kiss him right now.

But you’ve never kissed him when you weren’t, well, naked - or about to be. A heated press of lips when you have to say goodbye, sure, but although you’ve both opened up a bit you’re aware this isn’t exactly the kind of relationship (not that you’re sure you could call it that, exactly) that allows for moments of casual affection.

So instead you smile and tip your chin down, and both of you take a wide berth around the circling dancers.

But your heart still races when he doesn’t let you go, keeping you tucked against his side as you approach the bustling Square.

The delicious smells of festival food wafting over you are a quick reminder that you haven’t eaten since breakfast, too distracted on the train to think much about it, so as soon as you arrive you make your way to food cottages.

Spiced kebabs for him and a steaming vegetable stew for you, followed by plum dumplings and papanasi, a kind of cheese donut that has no right to be as good as it is, and the time you’re standing in the square awaiting the lighting of the tree, you’re warm and satisfied.

A light dusting of snowflakes begins to swirl as the crowd counts down, one section briefly faltering until with a rousing cheer they all light up with the rest, glittering bright.

It’s bright and beautiful and exactly what you needed, but when you glance up to see Klaue’s reaction you find yourself wishing for a little less light, your cheeks growing hot against the night air when you see that he’s looking at you instead, the glint in his eyes perhaps not entirely a reflection of the lights that surround you.

Afterwards you peruse the eclectic mix of Christmas ornaments, stoneware and other handmade items, sharing a little about your days as you wander between vendors.

You describe a type of welding certification you’re thinking about getting, even though you’d really only need it if you were working in aerospace tech, and Klaue mentions to you that he’ll be away for an additional few days next month for a conference in Vienna.

Disappointment jabs between your shoulder blades at the fact that he’ll be gone for longer than you already expected, but there’s a sense of relief, too, that he’s still letting you know about his plans - as much as he can, at least.

You hadn’t really planned on making any purchases tonight, but at a cottage selling embroidery and needlecraft a crocheted patchwork blanket catches your eye, the woven pattern making you think of tea and honey, of coming in from the cold and being made warm on a dark winter day.

After collecting your find, Klaue makes a phone call while you double back one more time to pick up some handmade cards to send to a few friends, pocketing the device as you make your way back towards him.

“Ferris wheel, then?” He asks, tilting his head towards the brightly lit ride.

“Yes! Oh, wait..” Pulling out your own phone you ucheck the time.

“Oh,” you deflate a little. “Actually we should probably start heading to the train station, it’s getting pretty late. Can’t say I’m looking forward to how busy it’ll be.”

“Well, if you wanted to - everything near the market is full, but there’s a place on the other side of the city that has rooms available.”

You stare at Klaue for a moment. Having already dismissed the idea of staying somewhere in Bucharest tonight you’re unable to hide your surprise that he’s suggesting it. Still fighting the thought that you’d be imposing on his time, you mentally point out that he wouldn’t have bothered finding something if he didn't want to.

He raises an eyebrow.

“You really don’t want to take the train back tonight, huh?” You try to joke in an attempt to disguise your eagerness.

He steps slowly toward you, leaning in until the scruff of his beard brushes your cheek.

“I really don’t want to wait much longer to make you come, darling.”

He must hear the hitch in your breath as you shudder at his words, pulling back to give you a knowing grin.

“Ferris wheel it is, then.”

***

The glittering view as you start to rise is stunning but neither of you manages more than a few cursory glances out the window before you’re moaning into his mouth and he’s sliding a hand between your legs. A pleased sound gritted from his throat when you rock eagerly into his touch, his lips tasting of frost and spiced wine when your tongue slips between them.

Your own fingers tighten around the heavy fabric of his coat to steady yourself, one hand sliding above the collar to brush over the warm skin there, short shorn hair prickling beneath your fingers when they curl around the back of his neck to pull his mouth more firmly against yours.

Unfortunately it feels like no time at all before the wheel is slowing and Klaue is reluctantly removing his hand from your now aching sex, your hips bucking when he gives you one last firm caress as you come to a stop at the bottom once more.

“I’ll call us a taxi, then?” He breathes against your lips.

“God, yes.”

A gentle but steady snow is falling by the time you arrive at the small bed and breakfast, the thickening blanket of white softening the glow of multi-coloured lights on the trees outside.

The owners quickly realize that you have no bags with you, and they’re kind enough to offer some pajamas for you to borrow in the form of sweatpants and shirts.

Unfortunately on the ride over Klaue had received a call about something that requires his attention for a while longer, so you’re currently still clothed and sitting next to him on the bed, your new blanket draped over your legs,

You’d picked up “Jurassic Park”, the only english book on the small shelf in the common area, and you try to read a bit while he wraps up his business, stealing the occasional glance at him while he works.

When a hand slides over to squeeze your thigh you shift instinctively into his touch, able to feel the heat of his palm even through the woven fabric.

“Patience, my darling.” He hums, his teasing smile deepening the creases around his eyes.

“Oh, you have no idea how patient I’ve been, Ulysses,” you reply, biting your lip at the soft growl that betrays his own restlessness has you biting your lip.

As antsy as you are, and while it’s unlikely you would have been able to name it, exactly, you also feel content. Lulled by the shape of him at your side, the sound of Romanian Christmas choir music drifting through the walls, and the electronic tapping from his phone.

Your eyes wander around the room, amused by the volume of kitschy knick knacks and holiday decorations spread across the shelves, including a candle in the form of three Victorian carolers that looks to be many faded years old, yet seemingly never burned.

While you’re wondering whether the tiny bust paintings hanging by the door are family of the owners or just thrift store finds, Klaue shifts to face you.

Lifting the edge of the blanket he nudges you over so that you’re both lying on your sides beneath it.

“All done?” You ask as his arms wrap around you, pulling you against him, letting out a pleased sigh when you feel the already stiff ridge of his erection against the swell of your ass.

“Finally.” The word vibrates through you as a hand slides down between your legs, curling around your clothed mound.

You immediately arch into him, reveling in the twin sensations of his fingers pressing damp fabric against your cleft and the slow grind of his hips behind you.

“Even like this I can feel how warm your cunt is.” Klaue rumbles softly. “You’re wet, too, aren’t you?”

“You know I am,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice low. Aware that if you can hear music through the walls it won’t take much to be able to hear you.

“I should take my time with you. Especially after your...bahaviour on the train.”

HIs hand finds its way under your shirt, and you note the jut of his hips against you when his palm slides over your bra to cup the soft swell of your breast, thumb and forefinger plucking at the stiffening peak of your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Should run my fingers over every inch of your body,” he rasps, an urgency filtering into his movements, into the rough, whispered rush of his words as his fingers reach back down to tug at the waist of your pants.

Quickly you move to unbutton them, working them down along with your panties as you feel him shifting behind you, and then the hot length of his cock is sliding against your folds, slicking himself with your arousal.

“Should tease this needy little pussy until you're ready to beg.”

Klaue bites back the last word as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“But fuck, I need to feel you come.”

Normally so thorough with you before letting his control slip, Klaue’s bare need has you unraveling and your moan is deep and unexpected when he suddenly sinks into you, a response to the sweet desperation in his voice as much as from the relieving stretch of his cock.

“I know how much you love to make pretty sounds for me,” he pants in your ear, his large hand kneading the flesh of your hip and thigh. “But you’re going to have to be quiet tonight. Can you do that for me, darling?”

Half-stretched and aching, you somehow manage to swallow your moans, taking a few deep breaths to steady your voice enough to speak.

“Yes.” You finally breathe in a low, half-whisper. ”l’ll be good.”

He nudges deeper and you bite your lip to hold back the sounds that want you to make, that he draws from you so easily now.

“Yes, you will.” Klaue hums against your neck.

The only sounds in the room now are your panted breaths intertwined with the slick sounds of his cock slowly thrusting into you, the gentle creak of the bed frame beneath your shifting bodies.

Suddenly pulling the blanket off of you he grips your ass, pressing you open so that he can see where your tight hole is stretched around him, and while he normally takes his time to relish the sight he only lasts a few more deep strokes before he’s shifting you onto your stomach, his weight and his cock pressing you down into the mattress.

With your pants still bunched around your knees Klaue impatiently nudges your legs apart as best he can before working a hand beneath the curve of your hip and you buck, a squeak slipping from your throat when his fingers find your clit.

His chest heaves against your back, the tight, circling pressure of his fingers firm and insistent as your body swiftly draws taught beneath him.

Instinctively you try to respond, to roll your hips into his touch as you chase the rough crest of your orgasm but you’re trapped, the broad warmth of Klaue’s body holding you in place as his fingers relentlessly work your clit until your muscles begin to flutter and tighten.

”There you go” A rough whisper clenched between his teeth. “Let me feel you. Come on, darling, squeeze my cock.”

You try to stay quiet but you can’t help the tremulous whine that escapes your throat as your climax surges through you, Klaue letting more of his weight press into you as your body spasms beneath him, every muscle trembling as you clench hard around his cock.

“Christ you feel so good. Fuck, you’re going to make me come, oh fuck- ”

The tight grip of your cunt seems to be all that he needs tonight because with a sudden hard jerk of his hips you feel the blissful throb as he comes, muffling his own moan against your shoulder as spends himself helplessly inside you.

Klaue continues to grind into you as the pulsing of his cock slows, making sure his cum stays plugged deep in your cunt exactly where he knows you want it, the stroking of his fingers not letting up even as you twitch and gasp beneath him.

“One more, Mot. Please. For me.”

Your clit flutters at his pleading words, and barely able to hold back your cries, your hand flies up to cover your mouth as he continues to work your swollen bundle of nerves, his hand slippery with your release that leaks out around where he stays buried in you.

Aching and breathless, feeling the muscles of his forearm flexing against your hip, your body finally succumbs to the needy slide of his fingers, muffling your half-swallowed whimpers behind your hand as he expertly coaxes a second, softer orgasm from your oversensitive sex, gravelly praises whispered against your ear as you stiffen and shudder beneath him.

Klaue stays pressed against your back as you both slowly recover, the weight of him warm steady, calming the tremble in your limbs as you float down through the afterglow.

Eventually you let your fingers fall away from your lips.

“I’m sorry…I couldn’t- I tried to be quiet,” you stammer. “Wanted to be good, I- ”

“You’re always good for me, darling.” Klaue soothes, pressing his words and lips against your neck, behind your ear. “Always.”

***

After a quick shower you both change into your makeshift pajamas, then turning off the bedside lamps you settle back under the knit blanket, the lights filtering through the curtains casting a warm glow on the walls of your room.

“Come with me.” Klaue mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You were almost asleep, and it takes a moment to realize that he’d spoken.

“Come with…where?”

“The conference. Vienna. There’s a gala.”

“Are…are you awake?”

“If you’re asking whether I’ll remember this in the morning, the answer is yes.” Klaue chuckles softly. “You said you’d never been. Beautiful city. Wear a beautiful dress for me.” His voice drops as he pulls you more firmly against him.

You pause, considering, unable to ignore the soft thrill in your chest that he’s willing to share this with you.

Another thread of your life intertwining with his, invisible threads looping over one another and knotting tight, tugging together into a pattern you’re still trying to bring into focus.

“Alright.” You sense a notch of tension release from Klaue’s body when you finally give him your answer. “I’d like that.”

It’s difficult for you not to overthink, especially when thoughts of what you’re going to do when your contract ends are becoming more persistent every day.

But knowing that you’re going to have to return to reality tomorrow regardless, right now you allow yourself to relax against him. With the tops of his thighs fitting against the backs of yours, soft music floating at the edge of your consciousness and his hand resting warm against your hip, eventually you find yourself caught in a net of sleep and dreams.

A/N: I was looking a little wistfully at all the lovely holiday fics that were coming out, and thinking that I didn't really think I had anything that would really work. Then I got to playing around with a mood board and accidentally inspired myself with Christmas market thoughts, and now here we are!

Thank you for reading, and I hope you get through the remainder of the holiday season with as much light and little stress as possible. ❤️

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all you lovely people!

#ulysses klaue x reader #ulysses klaue x f reader #ulysses klaue x you #ulysses klaue smut #ulysses klaue #x reader #bringin' home the rain series #salvation is a deep dark well fic #woven #holiday fluff #fluffy smut #mcu fanfiction

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pjpeteisawesome · 6 years

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Goof Troop and the Nuances of Parent-Hating

It's common for kids, especially teenagers and older kids, to claim to hate their parents. In fact, it's often seen as trendy to hate your parents, be it because they're embarrassing, clueless that you're getting older and have maturing interests, or simply too doting. However, it's also important to consider that there's a significant fraction of kids who don't care for their parents because their parents are actively harming them. Goof Troop does a good job of showcasing the two types of parent-hating side-by-side and, in the process, showing the difference between the two of them.

When Max and Goofy are home alone, and especially when Max is a preteen, their relationship is more-or-less healthy. The only times that their relationship is shown to be in jeopardy is when Max believes his reputation is on the line or when he's attempting to shirk responsibility. "Meanwhile Back at the Ramp" is the first episode that shows this, when everyone says that Max looks just like his dad and he's ashamed because Goofy usually screws things up. It's used a bit in the ancestors episodes where Max doesn't want to listen to his dad's stories, most of which are used to teach Max responsibility, with the exception of "Gunfight at the Okie-Doke Corral" which is about his reputation. It's hinted at slightly in "Goof Under My Roof", but in that episode, he is willing to inform Goofy about the bullying he's enduring due to their situations.

It's most apparent near the end of the series, starting with "Educating Goofy", where Max is humiliated when Goofy appears at school with him, even though Goofy only did that to set a good example for Max, as Peg later explains. "Have Yourself a Goofy Little Christmas" involves Max being one of the people whose Christmas was ruined by Goofy, as Pete rudely informs him, due to Max outgrowing the Christmas traditions. A Goofy Movie and An Extremely Goofy Movie both feature Max worrying about his reputation and wanting to get away from Goofy for that reason extensively, including a tirade about how he's older now and doesn't want to be with Goofy anymore in both, with a harsher impact in the second one. He's also exceptionally unhappy with Goofy dragging him away from Roxanne in the first movie and beating him at his best event in the X-Games in the second.

Despite these, he clearly cares for his dad when push comes to shove. In "Meanwhile Back at the Ramp" he goes out of his way to help Goofy win an award, and eventually wins the best father and son in the class. In the ancestors episodes, he eventually learns to appreciate Goofy's lessons. In "Educating Goofy", with Peg's help, he realizes what Goofy was trying to do and wants to let Goofy win the spelling bee. "Have Yourself a Goofy Little Christmas" has him chase after Goofy in the snow when he realizes Christmas is about family. In both A Goofy Movie and An Extremely Goofy Movie, Max and his father reconcile from their fights in the third act, and there are moments along the way where Max shows care for Goofy, such as showing sympathy for him losing his job or bonding with him over "Hi Dad" soup.

Additionally, there's a good number of episodes where Max shows love for Goofy without any hint of dislike, such as "Everything's Coming Up Goofy" where they're very close before moving to Spoonerville, "Waste Makes Haste", where they work together smoothly, "Wrecks, Lies, and Videotape", where he goes out of his way to try to get Goofy a vacation, or most prominently, "Date with Destiny", where Max says that his father is "the best" and is very upset when Miss Pennypacker wants to take him away, even starting a lie that Goofy is getting married to throw her off the scent, though that was unsuccessful. He's also completely benevolent in "Counterfeit Goof" despite understanding that Goofy is silly.

Then, on the other hand, we have PJ, who doesn't seem to have nor care about a reputation. He does occasionally express contempt for his father being embarrassing, but more likely than not he's expressing displeasure with something else. Most of his comments explaining his poor relationship with his dad are fearful, self-deprecating, or plaintive cries for help.

In A Goofy Movie, he says his dad is going to kill him three times in his first three scenes, and he expresses similar sentiments in "Pistolgeist", "Wrecks, Lies, and Videotape", "Come Fly with Me", "Take Me Out of the Ball Game", and "Max-Imum Insecurity", the last of which was predicated on something Pete actually said. He panics about being grounded for huge amounts of time in "Bringin' on the Rain" and "Axed by Addition". In "All the Goof That's Fit to Print", he trembles and braces himself when asking Pete for money. At other points throughout the series, he displays timidity and anxiety both around and about Pete.

Many of his focus episodes focus on the self-deprecating aspect as well. PJ isn't smart enough to be his dad's assistant in "O, R-V, N-V U", he isn't skilled enough to be his dad's partner in "Tub Be or Not Tub Be", he isn't brave enough to be part of the family in "From Air to Eternity." Pete's not a paragon of intelligence, skill, or bravery, but he still finds time to make PJ feel insecure about his own traits.

Plaintive cries for help appear in episodes like "Good Neighbor Goof" and "And Baby Makes Three". In the former, he says that the day he met Max is the only day of fun he ever had. In the latter, he calls himself a "feudal serf" and counts down the days until he can leave home. PJ is making it very clear that he is not happy at home, regardless of how anyone else would see him, regardless of the time in his life.

When does PJ show love to his father? Most of the time, only when Pete is manipulating him into doing things for him that he should have no occasion to ever do, such as in "Tub Be or Not Tub Be" or "To Heir Is Human." Otherwise, he's quite suspicious of his motives. PJ is suspicious of Pete's motives when he's interested in his life, or is trying and failing to help him, or is off doing something else with other people. There are several episodes where PJ had only a few lines, and used them to express disillusionment or disbelief.

It's also clear, when Max and PJ's problems are compared side by side, who is the one with the worse dad. "Take Me Out of the Ballgame" features both fathers smothering their sons attempting to turn them into baseball stars, but Pete is more reckless in practice and, more importantly, at the beginning of the episode was forcing PJ to pull weeds for six hours without taking a break while he was lounging around, while the worst thing Goofy did at the beginning was give Max a birthday present he didn't want. Later in the episode, after they fail to make the team, PJ is afraid of Pete's reaction and Max is worried about disappointing Goofy.

In "Midnight Movie Madness", Pete insisted that PJ go see a scary movie he didn't want to and then, when he made it through it relatively unscarred, told him that it was based on a true story and went out of his way to terrorize him in a costume. Goofy, on the other hand, warned Max not to see the scary movie because he doesn't react well to them, but relented when Max said it was okay and went out of his way to prove the Mutilator wasn't real.

In A Goofy Movie, Pete couldn't even say the word "too" when countering Goofy's comment that Max loved him, saying "My son respects me", period. An Extremely Goofy Movie opens with Max and PJ playing a game of Misery Poker, where Max complains about his dad's tendency to be embarrassing and smothering and PJ complains about his dad's willingness to cast him completely aside and openly show his utter glee at doing so.

Indeed, this shines a light on a problem with the unchecked trend of kids hating their parents to be cool in the media. It makes it harder for kids who have genuinely abusive parents to understand that the way they feel about their parents isn't normal or healthy. Indeed, Max doesn't always seem to fully understand the extent of what PJ is going through. He makes a joke about how he's "trained" in "Come Fly with Me" without getting the huge problem that is.

In A Goofy Movie, he's willing to say PJ is lucky because of the RV, to which PJ reacted well, but the elephant in the room is that he's still essentially being treated like a servant by his dad. In "Slightly Dinghy", he point-blank asks PJ what could be more fun than fishing with his dad, despite the fact that his extremely unpleasant answer is predictable.

Yet, when Max learns that PJ isn't allowed to play with anything in his room in "Everything's Coming Up Goofy", he's horrified. In "Good Neighbor Goof", he's reduced to tears when Pete screams at PJ and tells him he's not allowed to see Max anymore, even coming up with two elaborate plans to prevent that from becoming permanent. In "Close Encounters of the Weird Mime", he shakes his head, scowls, and facepalms at Pete's phony-polite insults. In "From Air to Eternity", he's more than willing to help PJ get back at Pete for being a hypocrite and rejecting him as a punishment for something he didn't even do. Max is clearly not under the impression that what Pete is doing to PJ is acceptable; most of the time he doesn't even seem to realize how frequently it's happening, mainly because his own experience with parents is so much tamer and healthier.

That, in essence is the distinction between the kid who hates their parents to be cool and the kid who hates their parents for hurting them. While the former may express contempt or distaste for their parents being embarrassing or smothering, ultimately, they would be horrified if their parent was out of their life. On the other hand, the latter may display fear and pain, and will likely distrust the parent even outside of their social settings. This distinction is really important, and it's worth admiring that this show did such a thorough job of showing it.

#gt analysis #long post

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