#dealer!troy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sombrashe · 3 months

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content drug dealer!Troy x weed smoker!Reader, chubby! afab! gn! reader, drug mention, lots of dr♡g content, reader is a little dr♡ggie 🫶🏻, it's just weed, pubic hair, cunnilingus, blowjob

note(s) this is not at all edited, i wrote this on my phone and need to post it immediately ♡ this is for all my slutty virgins

Huffing you follow closely behind your friend. Her hand is intertwined with yours, but you still feel like you could easily lose her in the crowd. You weren't exactly sure whose party this was all you could tell was they threw ragers based off the noise level that only grew the further down the block you walked. Despite the bruised ribs from randoms elbows you made it to the front door in one piece.

"Hey Charlie!"

Ahhhh so this is Charlie. Smiling you give the blonde woman a quick nod. Your friend keeps her grip on your hand and you suddenly feel like a child whose mom just saw a friend at the grocery store. You manage to keep your patience the people in like behind you two more than annoyed enough. After a good few minutes Charlie kind of shoves your friend forward with the promise of finding her later. Making your way inside, you're surprised at how dingy the house is. From the outside it looked gorgeous with the dark masonry complimenting the lighter woodwork. You barely have time to check out the area before you're being led down a hallway and into a white tiled kitchen. Now this is what you were expecting. Granite topped counters, sparkling white tiles at your feet and sea green back splash adding a pop of color to the medicinal styled room. It was a gorgeous room and you got to take a longer look before you are led to the opposite side.

"Troy... Troy! Hey! This is my friend. Yeah, the one i was telling you about. Yeah. It's their first real party."

She punctuates her sentence with a gently shoulder bump. You have absolutely no idea who this man was. He was ridiculously hot though. You find yourself unable to look away as he conversed with your girl. Only when he takes a glance at you do you break your eye contact. Heat creeps up your neck as you slowly look at him again. Trying hard not to seem eager at getting an eyeful.

"Troy."

He extends his hand and you shake it. Awfully formal for a house party. You can't help but think theres something more to this guy. The way he held himself and how he was alone but in a deliberate way. This is the dealer I was telling you about. Your friend mutters against the shell of your ear. The music thumps in tandem with your heart as you try to give a polite smile. Theres no way this guy will want to sleep with me.

A few months ago your friend was so excited to tell you about the new drug dealer who moved in down the street. His house an immediate hub of activity. She blabbed on and on about how cute he was and how she couldn't wait to introduce you to him. You let her have her moment and listened carefully to every word she said.

"... So I told him about you and he really wants to meet you! Showed him that cute photo of you when you got your hair done last week."

You were shocked to say the least. Why the hell did she tell him about you? And why did he really want to meet you? These were both questions you verbalized and her response had heat rushing to your head.

"Oh well he normally gives discounts to pretty girls, especially the ones willing to sleep with him, but i think he's willing to make an exception for you. He said he loves your style. Thats a huge compliment coming from him."

You blink up at her and move from your lying position to sitting fully upright. Sleep with him?

"I haven't even tried his shit yet. There's no way I'm giving head to a dude with shit weed."

Your friend just hopped down beside you and bumped the contents of her Sephora bag onto your lap. Two packs of edibles, an eighth and a cart bounced onto the fat on your thighs. Taking a moment to look through everything you finished your investigation by opening the baggie and taking a wiff. Your friend sat by expectantly, waiting for your response.

"Just because it smells good doesn't mean it is."

She sighed and flopped back onto your bed.

"Then try it silly. Thats the whole point. If it's as good as Jessica says it is then you could put that mouth to good use and score us some freebies."

You mumble under your breath saying nothing of real importance. Sliding open your bedside table you removed a small red and pink speckled bowl. Alongside the bowl you pull out a hello kitty grinder and a paper plate. While your friend plucks a few bits of the bud from the baggie you open your grinder and let her place the small pieces onto the spikes. Closing the lid you twist it a few times checking once to make sure there was none stuck. Carefully, using the plate to catch and fallout, you start packing the bowl. Picking up the few little bits that fell from your fingertips you dust them on top of the packed bud. Slipping the plate and grinder back into the drawer you replace them with a plain black lighter. Clicking it on you raise the bowl to your lips and take a breath. Holding it for a moment you soon exhale a cloud of dilapidated white smoke. Smacking your lips you make a show of trying the bud. Another hit. Another exhale. And you're passing the bowl over to your girl.

"Okay so maybe I am willing to meet this new guy."

"I'll introduce you." She puffs proudly in between coughs.

He mirrors your polite smile with one of his own, a bite of something more behind his pearly whites. Squeezing your arm your friend excuses herself to go and find Charlie. You watch her go before turning back towards the tall man. God he has to be at least 6 foot. And handsome as hell. Taking a step closer you lean up hoping he takes the hint. He does and leans down so you can speak against his ear. The music much too loud for regular conversation. You introduce yourself, a manicured hand gently gripping lean muscle. You got them done especially for him. Your friend explaining he goes for the ones with longer nails, "maybe he likes being scratched." She had giggled. Her eyes bloodshot.

"How do you know Layla?"

His voice is a deep rumble coming straight from his chest as he spoke lowly. A conversation for just the two of you.

"We've been friend since middle school, met in math class. We were both in one of those higher level classes. Never got anything done though."

You give a small laugh and squeeze at his bicep making sure he feels the blunt edges of your nails gently pressing into his polo. He's so close you can feel him smile against your helix.

"Sounds like you had a lot of fun."

"I'm always having fun. I love fun."

It was corny, but it worked. His left hand leaves his side and finds its way against the small of your back. Guiding you he stays hunched over for a few more moments.

"Then I think I have something you're going to love."

Straightening he's at his full height as he walks side by side with you through the crowded living room. Red solo cups and beer bottles clink on the wooden floor as you shift through them. You catch your girls eye and give her a small wave and a oh my god he's so fine look. You see her start to make a thumbs up before you're ushered into a small room. The room was bare except for a table almost displayed in the middle of the room. He places you in front of the table and you wait patiently as he moves over to the small closet in the corner. Shifting through a few things he seems to find what he was looking for and with a smile shakes a fairly large metal box in your direction. Coming back to the opposite side of the table he spends like ten whole minutes organizing and placing different products onto the table. Your jaw drops slightly at the amount of strains he had placed in front of you. Once he's finished he opens his arms wide with an award winning smile.

"Ta Dah. I have a gun so don't try taking my shit."

You shake your head and scoff.

"Im trying to see your dick not get shot."

His grins turns wolfish as he plucks a small baggie with no label. Opening it carefully he plucks out a piece of bud and holds it up to you. You lean forward and take a quick sniff. Loud as hell. Fuck he smells good. Opening your palm you examine the piece under the lamplight. Deep orange speckles with dark green in a gorgeous cacophony of color.

"Whats the strain?"

You move the piece of bud from one hand to the other.

"Hybrid."

Rubbing your fingers together you feel just how sticky they are.

"How much?"

Another sniff

"For you? On the house tonight. How much do you want?"

You pause and raise an eyebrow. Free?

"An ounce?"

You say it more like a question. He responds by plucking the piece of bud out of your fingertips and drops it back into the baggie. Wrapping the baggie back up he pockets it before looking back into your eyes.

"Wanna see any others?"

He drums his fingers across the table. You shake your head.

"An ounce will be enough for the month. If i need more i'll be sure to come straight here. Do you have any papers? Preferably pre-rolled. I don't like getting my fingernails dirty."

You wiggle your nails at him and he actually takes your hand in his to look at them. You weren't expecting it and blushing heat fills your cheeks. He hums in agreement. He's so gentle when he releases your hand before packing up. Clutching your hand in the other you watch him meticulously put every baggie into the box. Carefully stacking them on top of one another.

"On the house. You do that for everyone who wants to give you head?"

"Only the ones I actually want it from. Youre one of the lucky ones."

He flashes you another wolfish grin before turning to hide that box away. You make a point not to watch as you wait patiently.

"My papers are in my room. You can wait down here while I grab 'em."

"Do you mind if I come with? I'm a little picky."

He makes the few steps from the closet to you. Holding out his arm he waits until you're wrapped around him. Leading you through the door he pushes past people bent over taking a bump. You straighten and stay close like the sweetest piece of candy. The stairs are tricky, people slumped over half asleep and you have to trail behind him. He keeps your finger interlocked though and you know for sure he's wrapped around your finger. At least for the night. Hopefully many nights. Hooking a right you walk into a master bedroom. It was huge with a giant plush bed resting in the corner. Is that a fucking mirror?

"You have a mirror above your bed?"

"Yeah. I find it helps my clients cum faster when they can see me fucking 'em. You mind?"

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

You turn around and listen as he rustles around seeking out his product. Was he going to make me watch? God you hoped so.

"m'good."

You turned back around and towards his bed. Laid out were a few different types of wraps. You walked over and placed a hand on his arm. Scratching at him with a pout.

"I'll take any pre rolled, i don't care. I'm in your room now. Can we move on?"

"Thank god."

He grabbed up the wraps and discarded them on top of his spotless dresser. He's cupping your face within a blink. His lips crash against yours and you taste the faintest hint of Mary on his lips. The kiss is brutal and you smush your face closer to his. Teeth nicking lips. Tongues licking lips. And all you can do is moan nice and pathetic for him.

"You're like really hot." He mutters out loud.

His hands float from your neck and jaw to your hips where he pulls you nice and close. You feel how hard he is through his jeans. Reaching down you cup him. Trying your best to rub at him through the denim. He groans and grinds into your hand. He's back to cupping your jaw and his thumbs rub at your cheeks. His lips never leave yours and you swear you weren't going to have any left if you kept this up. You decide to pull away and looked up at him. His eyes are stormy. Fuck he made you wet. You fight the urge to pull him back into a kiss. His lip has a split down the middle and you realize you have a matching one on the top lip. He doesn't wait even a moment before he's pushing your jaw up so he can mouth at your neck. Sucking in some of your flesh he chews on it before letting go. Moving down a bit he leaves wet bruises in his wake. Licking at your collarbone he chews on the fleshy bone. All the while you're undoing his belt to let the tip of his cock poke out of his briefs. Squeezing at the length of it you occasionally rub the tip of your finger against his slit. He pulls away just enough to pant at your slick skin. Bumping his forehead against your chest he replaces your hand with his. Yanking down his pants he let them pile at his ankles. You take the hint and gently pull at his hair to remove him from your chest. Sinking down to your knees you roll his briefs down his thighs and over his knees. He shrugged off his jacket in the process and his leaking cock jumps against his t shirt. Olive green darkening to an army green as his cock leaks a wet spot. You hum and take him in your palm. Taking the tip of his cock in your mouth you suck gently on it. It tastes surprisingly sweet and you hum directly against him. He groans out and cups the back of your skull. He doesn't push down and you appreciate it greatly. Letting spit fill your mouth you wait until you get a good bit. Letting it leak from behind your lips you use your palm to slick his shaft. You move fingers over veins and pull away to lap at his slit.

"You taste so good. Such a pretty dick."

His hips jerk and this time he forces your head back down onto his cock. You smile and swallow around him. Pushing yourself you swallow inch by inch until you can fully relax to take him down your throat. The patch of hair that leads from his belly button to right above his pelvis tickles the tip of your nose. So fucking pretty. As you bob your head he lets out the sweetest noises. Moans and whines fill your ears. His hips jerk every time your nose touches that patch of hair. You feel his abdomen clench as he tries his hardest to stay still. Scratching gently at his hardened abdomen his skin jumps a few times. He grabs at your wrist and keeps his grip loose as to follow your actions. Squeezing his spit soaked cock you suck at his tip a few more times.

"'m 'boutta cum."

You hum in acknowledgment and continue to jack him off into your mouth. It doesn't take long before his hips surge forward and he's filling your mouth. Salt coats your tongue and you greedily milk him dry. Swallowing every drop you pull away from him completely and wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand. He crouches down and sticks his tongue in your mouth. Making out with you for a few minutes before pulling away beaming.

"G'nna let me taste you?"

You lick at the bone of his jaw. Chewing on it before answering.

"First time i've been asked that." You give a short laugh.

He looks into your eyes suddenly serious. "Go on 'head and get on that bed."

You suck in your bottom lip. Standing you pull off your slacks. He looks at your exposed cunt. Looks back up at you. Then finished by making eye contact with your cunt again. He presses a sloppy kiss against the fat of your labia. Kicking off your jeans, socks and shoes you climb onto his bed. Stretching out you arch your back before settling down facing him. His cock is already hard again and rests against his abdomen. His shirt having been discarded during your little show. Crawling towards you he looks up at you over your belly.

"Just know, this is the first time i've eaten a client out."

Heat washes over you and causes you to clench around nothingness. Using his thumbs he spreads your folds apart. They split with a wet squish. Reaching down you gently run your fingers through his hair.

"So pretty. Bet you taste so good."

He's leaning in, his tongue out and waiting. Flattening it out he presses it against your clit with a low groan. You feel heat burn at your eyes as his tongue gently laps at your clit. It's overwhelming how good this feels.

"Wait do that again... fuck. Right there. Thank you thank you thank you."

you can't help but chant praise as he follows your lead. Only breaking it to give an experimental suck. When you react positively he follows a routine. Lick, suck, lick, suck. You say his name in warning already feeling yourself worked up enough to cum.

"Hold on. W'nt you to cum on my tongue."

He replaces his tongue with his finger and you let out an annoyed huff. Kicking your leg down you connect your heel with hid shoulder blade.

"Oh come on. I can get you there again."

He rolls his shoulders giving you a warning glare. You just roll your eyes a slump back.

"You ruin every clients ability to cum?"

"Just the one's i think deserve a little extra time."

Even though there was anger at having been kicked bouncing around his eyes he gave you a genuine flirty smile. He takes a moment and starts circling your clit with the pad of his pointer finger.

"Tell me how you want it."

His words flip your stomach as butterflies threaten to burst out of you. You give him simple instructions: "just like that." "No wait do that again." "Can you try something?" He follows every order with great precision like he was made to be in between your legs. You're so turned on you're not even thinking about much better he can make it. Saying something too soft to make out he plunges his tongue inside your dripping cunt. You let out a mewl as he flicks his tongue inside of you. No one has been so attentive like him and you start to get lightheaded. Dragging your nails gently against his scalp you egg him on with a crescendo of noise. Removing his hand from your clit he reaches up slightly and roughly tugs at your pubic hair. Your hips jerk and you let out a shout as you grind incessantly against his face. He takes turns causing you that small amount of pain before rubbing at you. You're so close now. You can feel the heat in your lowers abdomen start to smolder. So close. So close.

"Please don't stop."

He mumbles something into your cunt but it's far too mumbled to even begin to decipher. He keeps his actions strict his only focus right now was to make you cum. The way he laps at your core tells you all you need to know. Soon that heat bursts and you're gasping out a cry. Your thighs clench around his head and he gets buried in soft skin. Removing his hands from you he reaches to clutch at the fat of your lower belly. He seems to be enjoying himself just as much as you. The vibrations of his moans and sharp whines help tumble you further and further. When you're finished and calmed enough to relax your legs he gets to work pressing gentle kisses all across your pretty soaked cunt. When he leans back you're able to sit up. You immediately feel the need to lay back down when you get a look at him. His styled hair was a complete mess, sweaty strands sticking to his forehead. His lips and chin were covered in your essence, slick that he licked his lips to get. It's his eyes that cause your stomach to clench, oceans of blue darkened and pupils blown so wide you might as well of been looking into a black hole the way they sucked you in. If he wasn't gorgeous before he certainly was now. Especially with the cum stain on his shirt. He came by eating me out... i wanna fuck him so badly. He stands and offers you his hand. You slide your palm against his and he helps you onto your feet. And then holds onto you as you stumble your bones feeling like jello. He chuckles and tucks some hair behind your ear.

"Don't go falling for me now."

"Corny." You let out a snort of a laugh and he grins triumphantly.

Straightening you up he waits until you're able to stand without shaking before letting go. He leans down and yanks his brief and jeans back onto his hips. Leaving you unattended you dress yourself as he goes through a closet finding a new shirt to wear.

"You can go 'head and pick any cones you want. Here's your ounce."

He chucks off his shirt and tosses it into a pile of clothes. He removes the baggie he stashed earlier and tosses it your way. You catch it and slip it into your pocket. You were used to this part. Going through the cones you settle on some hemp ones. Pocketing those too you start to head out when he calls to you.

"This better not be the last time I see you."

"Trust me, after tonight I'm a regular."

He chuckles and pulls on the chosen top of the evening. It's the last thing you see before you're closing the door with a click.

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#fear the walking dead #fear the walking dead smut #ftwd #ftwd smut #dealer!troy #troy otto #troy otto smut #troy otto x reader #troy otto x reader smut #chubby reader #serena writes

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dickgraysonwayne · 1 month

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Underneath

Ao3

Summary: Agent 37 seems familiar, but nah…he couldn’t be.

@dickgraysonweek 2024, Day 5: Dick (Helen) of Troy | Batfam Meets Agent 37 | Polyamory

Jason fucking hates Tuesdays.

Fuckin’ Tuesdays, he stews, kicking a can at his feet. Fuckin’ Batman. Fuckin’ drug dealers. Fuckin’…

“Hey,” Tim says, adjusting his baseball cap over his forehead. “Are you blaming Tuesdays again?”

“No,” Jason grunts. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Aren’t you annoyed, though? That we had to come all the way here…”

Tim shrugs, all smarmy-like. “Hey,” He says. “I get to miss school this way, so. I’m not too bothered.”

“But,” And Jason gestures around the alley they’re in. The mist hands low over his face, leaving him with a permanent vaguely damp feeling. “We’re not even in Gotham.”

“So?” Tim says. “I like travel. Anyway, it’s not even that different from Gotham…”

“We’re not even in the country anymore!” Jason hefts his backpack on his shoulder, irritation growing.

“Dude,” Tim says, summarily unimpressed. “What’s with you? So we do a little trip to the UK to investigate some drug operation Scarecrow’s running. What’s wrong with that?”

“I just…” Jason’s face screws up, pushing back at the memories in his head: the heat, the exhaustion, the pain. “I…I don’t like travel. That’s all.”

Tim sighs. “Well,” He says. “You better pull yourself together. Unless you wanna tell Babs you’d rather come back home and not do the mission she asked you to do? Or Bruce?”

“No need to go that far,” Jason mutters

“And,” Tim says. “Do you want to take shit from Damian about not being able to handle a ‘simple fact finding mission’ that even a ‘fool’ could complete?”

“That one,” Jason says, shrugging. “I don’t particularly care about.”

“Well, I do,” Tim says. He looks through the alleyway grimly before pushing forward. “So let’s go. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we come back anyway. So. We headed in the right direction?”

Japan glances back down at the phone in his hand. “Yeah,” He says. “Building should be showing up soon. It’s a bakery, top floor.”

Tim nods. “Okay then,” He says. “Plan confirmed?”

“Reconnaissance,” Jason drones out. “Get a sense of the operation and get out. Yeah. I know.”

“No tipping them off,” Tim says sternly. Jason hears a tinge of Bruce-inspired gravitas in his tone. It’s not quite as effective in a just-hit-puberty vocal range. “I mean, we can probably develop something to counteract the drug now, but still…don’t risk it.”

Jason grins. “Aye aye, Captain.”

He can practically feel Tim’s glowering frown. “Hey,” He says. “Why do you always—” He pauses. “Oh. Hear that?”

“Oh, yes,” Jason says, the feeling of being watched prickling over his back. “Think they’ll attack?”

“Well,” Tim says. “They’re still following, so.”

Jason nods. “Yeah,” He says. “Get ready..”

He barely has time to pull out a weapon before all hell breaks loose.

“I. Fucking. Hate. Tuesdays!”

Jason rolls, dodging a sword (a sword?) that clangs heavily against the cobblestones of the alleyway.

He looks up. A veritable gang of people seem to have rolled up on them in the last couple minutes, all outfitted in the same dark outfit and face covering.

They’d been ready for them. This is an ambush.

“Stop it with the Tuesday thing already,” Tim says, whacking a man around the head with his staff. “It’s obnoxious at this point.”

“You’re obnoxious at this point,” Jason kicks another man in the chest, then zaps someone else with an escrima stick. “You know what else is obnoxious? Not having a fucking gun.”

“I guess you—oomph—missed the point of a covert operation,” Tim says, staggering back at an attack, but recovering quickly.

Jason, about to go help him, is stopped by three attacking him at once. “This look covert to you?” He asks, zapping at someone else. “And anyway…shit!”

There’s too many people. It’s taking all his concentration to stay alive, stay uninjured, and he senses more than sees someone start to make his way around them, to the vulnerability of his back.

Jason grits his teeth, doing a final large sweep before turning back. “No you don’t—”

But he turns to see a nozzle pointed directly at his face, and stumbles back automatically. “Shit..”

He flips through days worth of research in his head substance distribution memory issues side effects no treatment yet magic involved and holds his breath, swearing internally…

A crossbow bolt suddenly embeds itself in the man’s chest, who gives a kind of choked gasp, shudders, then collapses onto the damp cobblestones, twitching a couple times before going still.

Jason doesn’t have time to react. He whirls back around, lifting a stick to protect himself from a blow to his head. Tim is standing nearby, still fighting, still upright.

He sees another man aim a knife at Tim from behind, then draws in a breath to warn him, before…

A gunshot rings through the air, and the man screams, clutching at his bloody hand and dropping to his knees.

Guns? Jason thinks frantically. He dodges a blow to the head, feeling weirdly vindicated. He draws an arm back, ready to zap another person, before—

A large figure runs in from the side, tackling the person in front of him and taking him both to the ground. They collapse into the shadows, tussling in a smaller alleyway to the side.

“What—”

Jason whirls around back to Tim, and sees someone else jump into the fray next to him. It’s a woman this time: face uncovered, clothing casual, and punches lethal.

Who the hell…

He feels something sting at his shin. His leg buckles, and he swears as he stumbles to his knees, trying to find his bearings.

The sticks drop from his hands and roll, and he dives frantically to try to grab them back. He looks up to see another nozzle aimed at his face, and…

Time slows down. Jason sees the finger on the nozzle tighten, then push, and he knows that there’s no stopping it, that he won’t have time to move backwards or to the side…

Suddenly, he’s looking at a gray t shirt covering a broad back, and it’s so unexpected that he thinks there’s something wrong with his sight at first. Instead, he hears the nozzle being deployed and then a cough, and he knows that it isn’t coming from him, so…

A woman’s voice cries out “You idiot!”

The back in front of him bends, then falls, revealing the startled eyes of the masked man that Jason had been staring at earlier, still holding the spray bottle. This snaps Jason back into movement, and he picks the sticks back up and delivers a hard thwack to the man’s head.

He hears the thrmmm sound of another crossbow bolt, then keeps fighting, mind whirling. He notices almost instantly that the crowd seems to have thinned out, but he doesn’t know if that means that they won or that they lost.

It feels like minutes, but the alleyway empties out, save for a few of the men that they had taken down. The woman with the crossbow stows it away then runs, falling to her knees in front of Jason, pulling at the downed man in front of him.

Tim follows close behind, looking tired, but cautious. Jason nods at him, then waits for Tim’s answering nod.

“So,” Jason says eyeing the duo in front of them. “You think they bulk ordered all those ninja outfits or did they have them laying around?”

Tim gives a tired laugh. “Maybe they got them from the Minion Coat Factory,” He suggests,

“Not your best work,” Jason comments, before the woman gives a loud sigh.

“You idiot,” The woman hisses again to the downed man. She pulls at the man on the ground, who slowly goes upright, head bowed. “What are you doing?”

The man looks up. Jason literally feels the color drain from his face.

“Dick?”

Tim stops in his tracks at the word, drawing a quick, choked breath.

Dick looks him in the eye (it’s him oh my god it’s him it’s him it’s him), and then, with a slight air of confusion, says:

“Who?”

Jason’s blood freezes in his veins. “That’s…” His kind is whirring in all sorts of different directions, not knowing where to stop, and how. “That’s…that’s you. That’s you, right? It’s you?”

Dick’s (maybe?) eyebrows furrow. “I…” He says. “No. I’m…” He looks up at the woman with him, who gives him a curious stare. “Who are these people? Do we know them?”

“No,” The woman says, giving him a furtive look. “What’s wrong with you?”

It’s at this point that something in Jason snaps.

He surges forward, grabbing Dick by the shoulders and pulling him close. He stares intently into his face. “It’s you, isn’t it? It’s you. It looks like you. What happened? How is it you?”

Dick’s startled eyes darken quickly. A hand quickly latched onto his wrists and bodily throw him off. “Get off me,” Dick says, voice dangerous. “Don’t do that again.”

“Stop being a dick,” Jason yells, trying to get closer. “What was it? Lazarus Pit? Did it make you forget or something? Did it—”

A hand yank at his shoulder, pulls him back. He startles, looks down and Tim, white-faced and tight lipped, holding onto him for dear life.

“Stop,” Tim says, and it comes out quiet. “This is…look, we don’t know what’s going on, okay? But we need to find out. Obviously.”

Here, the woman with Dick steps in. “We all need to calm down,” She says. “Look. I’ll introduce myself, okay? My colleague,” and here she points at Dick (it’s him!) “And I represent a global organization that specializes in, hm, covert operations, let’s say. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this at all, but,” And here she gives him a searching look. “I have a feeling you would have found out about us either way.”

“I don’t really give a shit,” Jason begins, but Tim squeezes his shoulder tighter.

“Let her continue,” He says quietly. His eyes are fixed on Dick, and his hand is trembling.

“There’s not much more than that, really,” The woman says. “You can refer to me as Matron, and this,” She gestures at Dick. “Introduce yourself.”

Dick nods. “I’m Agent 37,” He says. “I would say pleased to meet you, but…”

“Yes, okay, fine,” Jason says, impatient. “Let me guess. You woke up somewhere and were told that you were this agent guy at this organization and that you’ve always been there, and you rolled with that, right?”

“Hey,” The woman protests, but Dick waves her down.

“No,” Dick says. “That’s incorrect, actually. I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever been Agent 37. That’s just who I am.”

Jason’s eyebrows raise. “Oh yeah?” He says. “Can you tell me anything about your childhood?”

“I…” Dick’s voice trails off. “Why would I tell you that? I don’t know you.”

“Come on,” Jason says. “You very clearly don’t remember a childhood. So what does that tell you? Either you popped into existence as an adult or you’ve been brainwashed in some way. And, since you were fucking dead, my guess would be on a Lazarus Pit.”

“Dead?” Dick asks.

“What the hell is a Lazarus Pit?” Matron says at the same time.

“Fuck it,” Jason says. He grabs at Dick’s arm again. “Come on. Let’s take you home, and we can try to get your memory back. And then when you remember us we can talk for real instead of going in circles like this.”

Dick yanks his arm back again. “I don’t know you!”

“Oh yeah?” Jason says, voice rising. “Then why did you—”

“Let’s talk for a sec,” Tim interrupts, pulling him off to the side. “Stay there, please.”

“What are you doing?” Jason hisses as he’s dragged off. “That’s Dick. You know? Your brother? The one that’s dead? That brother? How are you not…how are you not reacting to this?”

“We don’t know that it’s him,” Tim says, and his voice cracks on the word. “We can’t…we can’t be sure until we can confirm it. And I…I don’t want to say that until…”

Oh. Jason feels kind of bad for snapping. “Hey,” He says. “I get it. But, come on. That’s Dick. It’s very clearly him. And he’s alive and he needs a kick in the ass to remember who he is. And we’re the only ones who can help him.”

Tim sniffs. “Yeah,” He says. “I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Jason says. “Look. This is good news. He’s alive! We just need to get all of him back is all. And this isn’t our first go around with resurrection, right?”

Tim nods.

“Excellent,” Jason turns back to the two agents. “Now. As I was saying. If you didn’t know us, why did you jump in and save us from those guys? There’s no reason to do that for completely random strangers. Especially not for jumping in front of someone who was about to—”

He cuts himself off. “Oh. Hold on. You got hit by…oh my god. Oh we’re so stupid.”

“Oh,” The Matron says, snapping her fingers. “You’re right! The spray. Or whatever that was. That’s probably what’s going on here.”

“What spray?” Tim asks, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t feel any different,” Dick says, but Jason ignores him.

“Dick got sprayed by something during the fight,” He explains to Tim. “And…hey, remember what we came here for? Scarcrow’s whole operation?”

Tim stares at him for a second before understanding fills his gaze. It’s a second longer than it would normally take. “Oh!” He says. And then, quietly, again, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Jason says grimly. He turns to the other two. “We came here to investigate a drug operation, with some sort of magic involved—it’s a long story. The drugs have a…memory issues side effect. And since Dick here lost his memories after getting hit, then—”

“He must’ve ingested the drug,” Matron continues. Her eyes tighten. “Amateur hour, 37. How do you let yourself get hit like that?”

“I didn’t!” Dick protest. “I…” His eyes glaze over. “I…”

Tim interrupts him. “The memory loss seems targeted,” He says thoughtfully. “His whole sense of self is gone, but he still seems to be able to function like he normally does. He has a persona left, but only his primary identity is gone. This is new, we should look into this more.”

“And get you back,” Jason says, staring Dick down.

“And get him back,” Tim agrees. He gestures towards them. “We probably have a formula that’ll be helpful here, to counteract the drug. And that thing Constantine gave us…Anyway, if you’ll all come with me, we can take you back home and—”

Dick shakes his head, speaking before Tim’s even done. “I can’t leave,” He says. “I have work to do here. I can’t leave.”

“You have to,” Jason cuts in. “You need to get your memory back, don’t you? And then, maybe…” His voice trails off. “We can find out what happened to you.”

“He’s not leaving,” Matron cuts in. “We have resources here you can use. A lab, everything. We’ll take you to HQ: we need the real 37 back, so consider yourselves hired. On a temporary basis.”

“No,” Tim says, voice firm. “All our research…we have everything set up at our base. We can take it from here.”

Dick shakes his head. “I’m not going,” He repeats and man does that stubborn expression look familiar. Jason had thought he was never going to see it again. “I don’t know you.”

Tim looks at Jason helplessly.

Jason sighs. Fucking Tuesdays. “Fine,” she says shortly, then tilts his head to Tim. “You got the folder with all the info? And all the solutions and stuff?”

Tim grits his teeth. “Yeah,” He says. “I do. But—”

“We kinda don’t have a choice, here,” Jason says. He glances at the two agents again. “Fine. Lead the way. We’ll go to your HQ.”

“Right,” Matron grabs Dick’s hand, helping to pull him to his feet. “Follow us. 37, you remember the way?”

Dick nods. “Yeah,” He says, then sets off without another word.

Jason swears under his breath, then rushes to follow, Tim right next to him.

It doesn’t take long before Tim breaks.

Jason had known it was coming, had seen it in the twitching of his fingers and the telltale furrow of his brow, so he just waits.

He doesn’t want long before he feels him elbow his arm. “Jason,” Tim hisses, clearly trying to remain out of earshot. “We have a problem.”

“You think?” Jason says, eyebrows raised. “What could’ve clued you into that idea? What, with the drug ninjas and resurrected amnesiac brother?”

“Shut up,” Tim mutters. “Anyway. We probably blew the mission. I’d guess the drug operation’s packing up and leaving as we speak.”

Jason sighs. “Get ready for that earful from Damian.”

“You said you didn’t care about that!”

Jason shrugs. “I lied. He’s a tiny little shrimp and his royal shrimpiness gets soooo smug when he’s right.”

“Yeah,” Tim says, but his heart is clearly not into it. “I guess so.”

Jason waits a little more.

“It’s just that,” Tim begins, voice hesitant. “Dick…he got hit by the memory spray thing right? And he got hit because he was saving us, right?”

Jason nods. “He stepped in front of me,” He says. His throat tightens. “He took the hit.”

“So,” Tim says. “He knew to do that. He knew who we were, before he got sprayed. So…he was alive this whole time. Here. And…and we thought he was dead.”

Jason sits with that for a while. A spike of anger and confusion pools up in his head.

“We thought he was dead,” Jason repeats. “And he’s alive. And…and we don’t know why…”

“But he still…” Tim swallows. “He must’ve known. What that would do. And…and he still did it. Why?”

Jason grits his teeth. He stares at the back of Dick’s head. “We’ll find out soon enough,” He says.

A sign in the distance catches his eye. He squints. “Does that say girls’ school?”

“Welcome,” Matron says, sweeping an arm out at the entrance. “To HQ.”

Jason eyes the building, skeptical. “Girls’ school?” He repeats.

Matron shrugs, smiling. “The children are our future, and all that,” She says.

Jason waits for Dick to chime in, make a lame joke, continue the song lyrics…

But he just stands there, face blank, waiting.

Matron gives him a look. “Wow,” She says. “You’re really not yourself, huh?”

“Yeah, like we’ve been saying,” Jason says, a little irritated by her overfamiliarty. “So can we speed this up already?”

“Jason,” Tim hisses, sounding embarrassed.

Matron shrugs. “I’ve had worse,” She says. She leads them through hallways, the sounds of laughing women echoing in the distance. “I just need to take you around—ah. Here we go.”

She stops outside a door with ROOM 84 emblazoned on a large sign stuck to it. She creaks it open then peers in furtively before ushering them in “Come on,” She says.

Dick goes in robotically, without comment. Jason follows, seeing a pretty impressive and fully equipped lab on the inside.

“Huh,” Jason says, looking around. “Nice setup you have here.”

Dick, finally, speaks up. “Are you sure about this?” He asks Matron, with only a hint of doubt in his voice.

“Yes,” Matron says. “We gotta get you back to how you were. And, you know,” She gives him a significant look. “I’m going to need you fully with me for what’s coming.”

Dick’s face clears up. “Ah. Right.”

“You don’t have much time,” She says, backing up towards the door. “Try to get it done quick. I’ll keep watch. Good luck.” She nods, then snaps the door shut.

Tim instantly leaps into work, pulling out his file and starting to decipher it. “I’ll need a while,” Is all he says, before his focus narrows and he zones in on the problem in front of him.

Jason sinks into a straight backed chair. “All we can do is wait,” He feels compelled to tell Dick. “I’m gonna nap, I think.”

Dick’s face is blank. Disturbingly so. He nods.

It disturbs Japan so much that he wants to try to wipe it off. “What do I call you?” He asks him. “Agent? 37? Full name? What?”

A bit of emotion leaks back into Dick’s face. “Agent 37 is fine,” He says. He falls silent again.

“So,” Jason says, trying to goad out the emotion again. “What do you like to do? You have any hobbies, anything like that?”

Dick stays carefully blank. “Not particularly,” He says. “I’m too busy for that.”

“Doing what?”

“Top secret,” Dick replies. “Can’t tell you.”

“Then why were we okay to be let in here?” Jason asks. “You sure didn’t put up much of a fight to take us right into the heart of your operation.”

Dick shrugs. “Matron made that call,” He says. “I followed her lead.”

“Yeah,” Jason says. “But that wasn’t very international man of mystery of you, was it? What do you think that means?”

Dick frowns a little. “Can’t say it means anything,” He says.

Well. He’s just as frustrating without his memories as he is with them. “Then why are you still talking to me?” Jason demands. “What do you gain? Is that what you’re drawn to do? Have you thought about why that is?”

“You’re very angry,” Dick says, looking a little curious now. “Why?”

“Don’t try that on me,” Jason says. “I know you. That won’t work. And anyway, I’m not angry. I just want answers.”

“And I can’t give them to you,” Dick pins him with a searching gaze. “Look. I know it sounds…illogical, but I think you may be right. Maybe I am the guy you say I am, and the gaps in my memory hold the person you’re looking for. But I’m not that guy right now. And I can’t tell you what you want to hear.”

Jason laughs disbelievingly. “You sure about that?” He asks. “You sure sound like him right now.”

“Maybe,” Dick says. “But I’m not him. I’m Agent 37. You’re going to have to wait for this other guy to come back.”

“Hey,”

They both turn. Tun stands there, a glass bottle in his hand. “It’s done. It was mostly done anyway, because of the magic involved, I just added the—never mind. It’s done. You can take it.”

Dick stands up, slowly taking the bottle from Tim’s hand. Tim doesn’t make eye contact, and steps over to Jason’s side as soon as the bottle leaves his possession.

That…that definitely seems like a problem.

“So?” Jason asks. “You ready for the other guy to come back?”

“I…” Dick says. He pushes, drawing in a deep breath.

Jason waits, heart pounding.

Dick breathes out slowly, then says “Okay.”

“What,” Jason says, disbelieving. “Just like that?”

“I guess I trust you,” Dick says. Before Jason can reply, he downs the liquid in one swallow.

Jason waits.

Time ticks by, and Dick just sits there, eyes screwed shut.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jason whispers to Tim, eyeing Dick critically.

Tim is so tense he’s about to snap in half. “It probably tastes gross,” He says. “Give it a second. It’ll work. I’m sure it’ll work. Give it a second.”

Jason waits a second. And then another. And then another.

When Dick opens his eyes again, alive, teary, scared, Jason knows. He knows.

He stands up.

“Dick?” Tim asks, voice a tad wobbly. “You back?”

Dick takes a shuddering breath. “Hi guys,” he croaks out. “Long time no see.”

Tim lets out a soft oh noise, then runs toward Dick is one quick motion. He slams into his torso, almost knocking him backward. He wraps Dick in a tight hug, face mashed into the gray t shirt. “You’re alive,” Tim says, voice teary. “You’re…you’re here.”

Dick wraps his arms around Tim, squeezing just as tight. “Yeah,” He says, choked. “I guess I am.”

There’s a part of Jason that wants to join them, to give in to the need to give a hug, to allow a few tears to fall, to let go of that weight on his shoulders.

There’s a bigger part, though, that’s too full of rage to do much of anything else.

Jason crosses his arms. “So,” He says, voice deceptively calm. “Can you explain how you’re alive? When we all saw you die? And why, if you were alive this whole time, you’re here instead?”

Tim freezes, then slowly lets go of Dick, backing up next to Jason.

Dick’s face falls into a devastated expression. He stays silent.

“Dick?” Tim says. His voice is quiet, confused. “Can you answer his question?”

Dick audibly swallows. “I…” He says. “Look. I’m still a little out of it because I just got all my memories back, so—”

“Excuse,” Jason says shortly. “You have your memories back? That means you have your reasons back too. So. Explain.”

Dick sighs. “Look,” He says. “I didn’t want to. I promise you, I didn’t want to. And…and I wanted you to know I was okay. But…I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Jason gives a disbelieving laugh. “That’s barely an explanation,” He says. “Total bullshit, to be honest. Did you even die? Or was that a lie too?”

Dick’s voice softens. “No. That was real. It’s just…I didn’t stay that way. Obviously.”

“Obviously?” Jason says, eyebrows raising. “That’s what you have to say right now? Unbelievable.”

Dick raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean it that way,” He says. “I promise. I…I really am sorry, it’s just…”

“How could you?”

And there’s the Tim explosion.

“You knew. You knew how upset we’d be! You knew. And you still let it happen. We mourned you! We…we had to deal with that all by ourselves! Us, and Babs, and Alfred, and Damian—” and here Tim’s mouth clicks shut, a look of horror on his face. “Oh my god. Damian. Do you know?”

Dick actually smiles. “Yeah,” He says, a heavy sort of relief in his voice. “I…I saw him. On the news. I about passed out when I did.”

Shitty way to find out. Jason thinks. But really is there even a good way? Or just a bunch of really bad ways?

“Then you know! How could you?” Tim’s voice is hoarse by now, his volume increasing with every word. “Not to mention what it’s doing to Bruce!”

Dick’s expression flickers, just barely, at Bruce’s name. Jason knows the signs, and knows exactly what that must mean.

“Tim,” Dick says, voice heavy, but Jason doesn’t let him get that far.

“Bruce,” Jason repeats. “He knew, didn’t he.”

Dick makes eye contact with him, and Jason knows that he’s right. “He’s…he’s the one who sent me here.” He says. There’s an air of resignation in his tone, a total surrender to his situation. It’s disquieting, seeing him like this.

“Of fucking course,” Jason mutters. “Let me guess. He saw an opportunity to use your whole situation and he took it. Motherfu—”

“But you went along with it!” Tim bursts out. He’s still angry (so angry) but not as explosive now. “If you didn’t want to, you should’ve just refused! If you really thought it was wrong, you should’ve just said no!”

Dick chuckles darkly. “You’re right,” He says. “I should’ve. That one…that one’s on me. I’m sorry, I really mean it. And if you can’t forgive me, I understand.”

Something’s still off. Jason frowns at him. “You’re telling me you woke up from near death, Bruce asked you to do this, and then you said yes? Just like that?”

Dick hesitates. “Well…”

Jason swears under his breath. “What did he do?” He asks. “To make you go. What did he do?”

Dick shakes his head, disbelieving. “What makes you think he did anything?”

“Because I know you,” Jason says. “And I know him. And that story doesn’t track, for either of you. Unless you went fully dark side and decided to embrace being his perfect little soldier? You’re telling me that you would ever do that, in a million years?”

Tim’s eyes are on him, a slow understanding dawning in his eyes. “Of course,” He says, voice still a little hoarse. “There’s gotta be something more to this. What happened?”

“Look,” Dick begins, voice heavy. “I’ve worked with Bruce a long time. Ever since I was a little kid. There’s certain things with him that I understand, and if he asks this of me, then, well…”

“Bullshit,” Jason repeats. “And what’s with this little kid shit? You were sixteen when you became Robin. Don’t lie more.”

Dick frowns. “No, I was…” He trails off. “I was…was it eight, or ten? I can’t remember.”

Jason frowns. “Huh? What’re you saying?”

“What’s wrong?” Tim demands. “Are you feeling off again? Your memory?”

Dick shakes his head. “Nah,” He says. “Sorry. Anyway. You know how it is. When it’s something really important, it’s important. Like, world-ending important.”

“Was this world-ending important?” Jason asks. He sees the answer clearly on Dick’s face. “Or was this daddy issues important? Or Bruce being a piece of shit important?”

“You lost the metaphor there,” Tim mutters.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jason responds. That’s back to normal, at least. “So. If this wasn’t world-ending important. Then why? Because the Dick I know wouldn’t have let Bruce force him to do anything just because.”

Dick just shakes his head again. He laughs, but it’s hollow. “I didn’t even say anything,” He asks, almost wonderingly. “How do you know this?”

“Because I know you,” Jason says. “Idiot. How many times have I said that already? So? Stop stalling. What happened?”

“You don’t want to know,” Dick says. His face is stuck between a small smile and a grimace. “Trust me.”

“Oh, we really do,” Jason says. Tim nods his assent.

Dick just sighs. “Okay,” He says. “I’ll tell you. I promise. But for now,” He looks around. “We have to get you guys back, okay?”

“You’re coming too,” Tim says instantly.

“What, already?” Jason asks. “You trying to get rid of us?”

“No,” Dick insists. At Tim’s protest, he raises a hand. “I want to go with you, but I can’t. Listen. There’s things going on here right now…I need to see them through. A lot of lives are at stake. But the first chance I get, I’ll come. Promise. I promise. And trust me: you guys knowing I’m alive already lifts a huge weight off my shoulders. Bruce’ll have little to no issue with letting me come back if he knows that you guys know.”

“Letting you?” Jason asks, eyes narrowed. “Also. What makes you think we’ll be okay with doing that? Just up and leaving you here?”

Dick’s face softens. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But, look. We need to make sure to get you guys out of here as soon as possible. It’s…well. I want to make sure the people here don’t get you in their radar.”

“Will you be okay then?” Tim asks, concerned about this development. “Staying here? It doesn’t look like you trust them.”

“I don’t,” Dick says. “And I wouldn’t stay unless I felt like I had to. And…I’ll keep in touch, okay? You won’t be leaving me entirely like that. Bruce has a way to contact me, you can bully him into using his. Tell the rest of the family, okay? I want them to know.”

This, more than anything, convinces Jason that Dick means every word of his promise. “Fine,” he says, over Tim’s protest. “We need to clean up here first, anyway. Which would be faster if I had my gun.” He eyes Dick’s belt. “Hey, can I—”

“No,” Dick says instantly.

“Come on,” Jason whines. “How come you get one and I don’t?”

“If I had the choice,” Dick says. “I’d switch with you. But alas.”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “Hey,” He says. “Does Bruce know about that? The gun?”

Dick laughs, strangely bitter. “He had to deal with it,” He says. “If he sends me here, he has to live with those consequences.”

Jason knows Dick isn’t the biggest fan of guns either, so this is probably hitting on a sore spot. Kind of his expertise, to be honest.

“I’m still mad at you,” Tim interrupts, staring Dick down. “Really mad.”

Dick’s mood changes again. “I know,” He says softly. “I’m sorry. Really.”

Tim surges forward suddenly, hugging Dick tightly again. “Really really mad,” He mutters into Dick’s tshirt.

Dick hugs back, pats him on the head. “I know,” He says. “Missed you.”

Tim makes a small, wounded sound. “Me too.”

Dick looks up, making eye contact with Jason. “You too, kiddo.” He says.

“Kiddo?” Jason says. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yeah. Me too, I guess,” He clears his throat. “I’m waiting for that full explanation. The minute you get back. We’ll decide what to do with Bruce from there.”

“You don’t have to—” Dick says, and Tim lets go of him again. “Look…”

Tim walks to the back of the room, quickly starting to gather up everything they brought with them.

“Shut up,” Jason says. “We’ll handle it then. We’ll head back now, contact you later. Deal?”

Tim pops back up, shoving things into Jason’s backpack. “Done,” He says.

“Deal,” Dick answers him. He gestures at them both. “I’ll lead you back, okay? Follow me.”

He walks them to the door, then pushes ahead, directing them to follow. “Matron,” He says quietly. “We’re good to go.”

She pops back around the corner. “You back now?” She says, giving him a searching look.

He grins. “Like a bad penny,” He says.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. It’s you all right,” She gestures at the rest of them. “Right. Let’s go.”

They walk down the hallways, quietly striding through the creaking building, before Tim whispers. “We’ll need to regroup on this mission. How bad do you think we’ll get it from Damian for failing it?”

“We’re bringing Dick back,” Jason says, eyeing him. “I’m sure he’ll forget all about that.”

“I doubt it,” Tim mutters, but he grins just the same.

They head out the door, following Dick through the hallways. He walks different here, not like a Dick, not really. Like Agent 37.

Jason shakes the unease out of his head.

“Hey,” Tim says. “You still hate Tuesdays now?”

Jason snorts. “You kidding?” He says. “They’re still the worst. Although…” He glances up to see Dick ahead of them. “Gotta say. It’s about…20% less bad than it was.”

“Only 20%, huh?” Tim asks, amused.

“Yeah,” He says, then “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to,” He keeps his eyes forward. “I know you.”

“You do,” Tim says. He smiles again. “You really, really do.”

#dickgraysonweek #agent 37 #dick Grayson #spyral #Jason Todd #red hood #Tim drake #Red Robin #speaks

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plotbunny-bundle · 2 months

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Angst idea

Donna Troy was cursed to have a bunch of awful lives. Do they need to be in chronological order?

Bludhaven is an awful place. What if after Donna died she was reborn to live another awful life in Bludhaven and met Dick while he was going through his awful post Blockbuster time?

Dick during some of the worst months of his life meeting a woman who reminds him of Donna. The two of them becoming friends once again. Not trying to save each other but being for the other and getting to know each other. Slowly pulling their lives together.

Maybe they meet while Dick was working for the mob family he befriended. Or after Blockbuster’s death when Tarantula was dragging Dick around with her. If she was a drug dealer or on drugs in this life it would really mess with Roy. A reason not to tell him. Or maybe Dick doesn’t believe she’s really Donna.

Angstiest way to end it would be if this Donna was in Bludhaven when it blew up and died there. Then an epilogue where now back from the dead Donna talks to Dick about this and admits she didn’t recognize the memories of that life because it was mixed up with her current one. And they talk about how they don’t regret it and “thanks for being my friend for those months” very bittersweet.

I got into the Donna and Dick as platonic soulmates things. And I just love the idea of people becoming friends for second time.

#dc #Nightwing #dc comics #nightwing 1996 #Donna Troy #dick grayson #Donna & Dick

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homomenhommes · 2 months

Text

saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 131

Fin Aout plan Jimmy, Ed et Ric chez DGSE (190 26 épaisse)

Le dernier WE d'Août, ;j'ai organisé pour mon client " DGSE " sa soirée interrogatoires. Avec l'accord d'André pour l'utilisation de Ric (en récompense de sa malléabilité et de tout ses progrès), nous avons débarqués à 4 chez lui.

J'avais prévenu Ric de l'ambiance qui allait y avoir mais nous avons été surpris, tous, du démarrage direct dès la porte d'entrée refermée et la remise de mon enveloppe.

Les trois jeunes se sont retrouvés contre le mur de l'entrée bras écartés mains posées sur le mur et pieds en retraits écartés aussi. Palpation de vérification de port d'arme et les trois se sont retrouvés menottés dans le dos. Poussés au sous sol, ils sont entrés dans la salle des interrogatoires. J'ai noté qu'elle avait subi quelques changements : nombreux anneaux au plafond et au sol, porte ouverte sur une autre partie faisant cellule avec lits en fer.

Je me calais dans un coin pour mater le spectacle et surtout vérifier que le client n'allait pas trop loin.

Il leur a lu un chef d'accusation bidon de trafic de drogue et de prostitution puis en a enfermé deux dans l'autre pièce (Ric et Ed) attachés chacun au pieds d'un lit.

Interrogatoire de Jimmy, traité de petite pute, de dealer, intimidations, menaces etc. Pour finir, il le fout à poil et l'attache avec des chaines les bras tirés vers le plafond alors que les pieds sont fixés au sol par des menottes acier aux anneaux dont j'avais remarqué la présence nouvelle en entrant. Là il le laisse pour aller chercher Ed et Ric. Ces deux derniers sont à moitié surpris de trouver Jimmy dans cette position. DGSE leur dit que s'ils n'avouent pas, il va leur faire subir la même chose. Je vois Ed s'apeurer et Ric sourire. Ils refusent de parler (c'est évident) et ils se retrouvent tous les trois fixés aux anneaux, nu pour Ed. DGSE sort alors le matériel. Je vois apparaître sur une table roulante, plugs, godes de taille très correct à monstrueuse, baillons boule ou mini bite, bandeaux et appareillages de stimulation électrique. De mes trois " employés ", seul Ric jubile de ce qu'il voit, surtout de l'appareil de stimulation dont il n'a jamais testé les effets. DGSE commence par " jouer " avec Ed et Jimmy qui encadrent Ric. Dilatations anales, pincement de tétons, étirements de couilles... puis détachés il les encule l'un et l'autre avec les 26cm épais qu'il porte entre ses jambes, pliés sur le plateau de son bureau. Ric regarde et commence à s'impatienter. DGSE le voit mais le laisse attendre. Il prend bien le temps de limer les culs de Jimmy et Ed, jusqu'à ce que ces derniers laissent passer sa tige entière sans le freiner. Quand il arrive à ce stade, il les plug et leur demande de serrer dessus, que s'il en voit un tomber, ça va être leur fête. Puis il les rattache semi pendus au plafond.

Quand il passe à Ric, je vois dans ses yeux un éclair de vice. Il faut dire qu'encadré par les deux crevettes, Ric paraît encore plus musclé qu'il ne l'est (ce qui est impressionnant !). DGSE passe du temps à faire courir sa main sur la peau de Ric, pinçant de temps à autre pour vérifier l'absence de graisse sous cutanée. Ric est affuté, son coach à son club de gym le maintient en condition de concours. De plus l'absence totale de poil donne un effet surréaliste à la " chose " bronzé intégralement.

Il commence à le travailler. Un téton puis l'autre, les deux sont pincés et étirés. Leurs tailles au dessus de la moyenne sous entend un travail régulier. Il ne faut pas longtemps pour que Ric se mette à bander ferme et que son jeans montre la forme exacte de son gland plaqué contre sa cuisse (il n'a pas mis de slip !). DGSE s'en aperçois. Il cesse et décide de le faire débander. Il le met à poil et le douche à l'eau glacée. Je n'avais pas remarqué jusque là qu'un des coins de la pièce était aménagé pour cela, tuyau d"arrosage et siphon d'évacuation. Quand Ric revient mouillé, il a débandé. DGSE en profite pour lui enfiler une cage de chasteté qu'il cadenasse. Vue de loin, elle ne lui laissera pas beaucoup de possibilité de développement !

Il le rattache en croix et recommence à tordre ses tétons. Ric bande direct et je le vois souffrir un peu de la restriction. Avant de venir, je lui avais demandé de régulièrement me regarder pour me signifier s'il était toujours d'accord d'un clignement simple des yeux. Il cligne et me rassure par la même occasion. DGSE s'attaque alors à son anus. Il commence direct par un gode à manche d'au moins 22cm. Juste une noisette de gel et il l'enfonce jusqu'à la garde. Une fois, deux fois, trois fois avant de passer à la taille au dessus. Je vois quand même qu'il prend la précaution de ne pas le dilater plus que sa propre bite, il veut encore un peu de travail lorsqu'il rentrera son bout. Je ne dis rien mais je connais mon Ric, même dilaté, avec la musculation de son anneau, il pourrait encore serrer une petite bite après. Il détache les poignets de Ric et les lui ré-attache à ses chevilles. Pour éviter le risque qu'il ne bascule complètement, il lui passe une ceinture qui, elle se trouve attachée au plafond. Comme cela son trou devient facilement sodomisable. Ce qu'il fait. Le cul de Ric lui arrache un gémissement de plaisir. Il profite du trou une bonne demi heure s'arrêtant fréquemment pour ne pas jouir. Puis il passe à la vitesse supérieure. Je le vois tirer de la pièce adjacente un fauteuil d'examen gynéco. Il y installe Ric attachant ses chevilles aux cales pieds écartés. Il lui attache aussi les bras et lui passe un collier qu'il fixe à son tour, bloquant toute tentative de se redresser. Il défait la cage qui lui bridait le sexe et tous nous voyons se développer ses 20cm violacés. DGSE attend qu'il bande bien avant d'installer les branchements électriques. Pinces aux tétons, un anneau serrant la bite avec les couilles au ras du pubis, un autre placé sous le gland et pour finir un plug. Ric n'a pas débandé d'un poil, ça l'excite un max. L'ensemble est branché sur un bornier avec trois potentiomètres, le premier pour l'intensité, le second pour la durée de l'impulsion et le troisième pour la fréquence. Il commence gentiment, nous voyons Ric contracter sous les impulsions électriques ses pecs ou bien sa bite. Quand DGSE envoie du courant dans le plug, Ric décolle les fesses de la table. Avec l'augmentation de l'intensité, les contractions sont plus violentes mais il bande toujours autant, preuve du plaisir qu'il y prend. Je pense que j'informerais son père de cela, ils pourront ainsi varier leurs jeux. Maintenant DGSE joue sur les deux tableaux, intensité et fréquence. En faisant varier les deux, Ric ne sait plus à quoi s'attendre. Courts violents ou longs faibles, chaque type d'impulsion de fait réagir et bander un peu plus. Deux trois fois DGSE test sa résistance extrême par des impulsions hautes et longues. Ric encaisse et bande toujours autant.

Mes deux minets n'en mènent pas large. Chacun se dit qu'après Ric se sera son tour. De temps en temps, quand ils arrivent à détacher leurs regards du corps de Ric, ils me fixent interrogatifs.

DGSE a maintenant retiré le plug électrifié et kpoté s'enfile dans le conduit rétréci de Ric. Pendant ce temps là, les réglages sont sur faible intensité comme fréquence. Il prend tout son temps pour faire entrer ses 26cm. Mais bien calé au fond, il donne deux, trois coups de rein supplémentaire pour en être sûr. Ric gueule son plaisir. Le temps passant, la stimulation électrique progresse et DGSE règle sur haute intensité, court mais fréquent. Le résultat est que ses va et vient deviennent hachés. Chaque passage du courant contracte Ric qui serre son anus au point de l'empêcher de bouger. Les deux hommes ont l'air d'y prendre un plaisir incomparable. Ils finissent par ne plus tenir et nous voyons Ric éjaculer de façon extraordinaire. Son sperme gicle 5 a 6 fois à au moins 1m au dessus de lui avant de retomber sur son torse. DGSE tamponne le fond de son boyau remplissant sa kpote (quand il la videra, son sperme remplira un tiers d'un verre !).

DGSE débranche Ric. ce dernier ne tient plus sur ses jambes et il doit le porter sur un des lits. Je me permets d'aller le voir. Accroupi à sa tête, je lui demande tout bas comment ça va. Son ton est fatigué mais il me répond avoir pris un plaisir jusque là jamais atteint. Je lui dis de se reposer.

Quand je rejoins les autres, c'est au tour de Jimmy d'être sur la table d'examens. DGSE n'a pas débandé d'un pouce ! (viagra ??). Sans électricité, DGSE lui travaille le cul et ne tarde pas à l'enfiler de nouveau. Pour la première fois je vois DGSE se pencher et venir rouler un patin à sa " victime ". Jimmy apprécie et je le vois tendre la tête quand DGSE se redresse. Je ne sais si c'est l'effet salive mais j'ai l'impression que DGSE monte plus vite en pression qu'avec Ric. Il recommence à lui mettre la langue pénétrant les deux extrémités de mon petit Jimmy. Contactions, quand il se redresse ses abdos sont couvert du jus de Jimmy et quand il sort de son cul, le contenu de sa kpote me paraît encore important pour une deuxième éjaculation aussi proche de la première.

Il détache Jimmy et le prend dans ses bras pour lui rouler un dernier patin, qui dure, dure un bon moment. Jimmy lui demande s'il peut faire jouir Ed qui commence à avoir mal ;de n'avoir pas juté depuis un bon moment. Avec l'accord de DGSE, Jimmy suce Ed encore attaché jusqu'à ce qu'il jute sur son visage.

Avant de partir, DGSE me prend à part pour me demander deux choses. La première si je pouvais lui ramener Ric de temps en temps et deuxièmement si il pouvait avoir une exclusivité sur Jimmy. Pour Ric je m'y attendais un peu connaissant le loustic et ses réactions à la domination physique. Par contre pour Jimmy, c'est une surprise. Il ajoute rapidement qu'il a les moyen de me dédommager et de l'entretenir. Je lui dit que je dois y réfléchir et surtout en parler avec l'intéressé. Ça beau être ma " pute ", je l'aime beaucoup et il a beau être majeur je dois voir avec son oncle (Samir). Je lui dis que je le rappellerai plus tard. Pendant le retour, je prend Jimmy à mes cotés. Moi je n'ai pas encore juté et mes couilles me font mal tellement elles sont pleines. Dès le coin de la rue passé, je tire sa tête sur mes genoux et il me déboutonne le jeans et avale mon gland. Je suis tellement excité que je ne me retiens que 10 mn avant de le gaver de mon jus. Il avale, avale et avale encore. Il aime ça et cela laisse le pantalon propre !

Les deux autres à l'arrière ne sont pas restés sans rien faire et dans le rétroviseur, je vois Ric se faire sucer par Ed. mais quand il jute, c'est dans un mouchoir en papier.

Je lâche Ed devant chez lui, Jimmy à la maison et rend Ric à son paternel. J'accompagne Ric. André nous attendait impatient de savoir comment cela s'était passé. Je lui ai dit qu'il avait tellement bien fait l'affaire que mon client serait prêt pour une autre fois. Je lui ai dit aussi que Ric avait testé la stimulation électrique et que c'avait été efficace. Quand je lui ai raconté la sodomie sous impulsion, j'ai compris que André était intéressé.

Retour définitif à la maison. J'y suis seul Marc est en déplacement. Le dimanche sera calme propice à la réflexion. En fin de soirée je prend Jimmy et Samir dans le bureau de Marc et leur explique ce que voudrait DGSE. Jimmy est tout excité, je n'avais pas compris à quel point les trois rencontres avec ce client lui avait plu. J'explique bien à Samir qui est ce type (résultat de l'enquête de mon client flic) et ce qu'il propose. Je leur explique aussi que pour moi, cela allait devenir difficile de continuer le petit jeu de façon aussi intense et que finalement c'était ce que nous avions prévu même si c'était pour plus tard.

Samir me dit que si c'est OK pour moi, c'est bon pour lui. Je lui dis que je le tiendrais au courant de l'arrangement que je vais négocier.

JARDINIER

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pwlanier · 1 year

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Balthus (1908-2001), Thérèse sur une banquette, signed and dated 'Balthus 1939' (lower left),

oil on board

Note: In late 1935 Balthus met Thérèse Blanchard, who lived several blocks from Balthus’s studio at 3, cour de Rohan. Thérèse’s appearance was unconventional, but she “had the grave and moody look that appealed to [Balthus],” writes Sabine Rewald, who selected the present work for the cover of the catalogue of the 2013 “Cats and Girls” exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. In his first portrait of Thérèse, painted in 1936 (Monnier and Clair, no. P 95), Balthus concentrated on her “serious mien” (exh. cat., op. cit., 2013, pp. 8 and 68). He similarly depicted her two years later (P 118; illustrated here). Thérèse sur une banquette, which dates from 1939, is the culminant image in what would be regarded as the most brilliant series of Balthus’s career, considered by Rewald to be “among his finest works” (ibid., pp. 7-8). “The paintings of Thérèse show Balthus at the apogee of his strength,” Nicholas Fox Weber has stated (Balthus, New York, 1999, pp. 388-389). Of Balthus’s ten portraits of Thérèse, five are acknowledged masterpieces, four of which are in museums. Thérèse sur une banquette is the fifth.

A sibling or school-mate posed with Thérèse for Frère et soeur in 1936 (Monnier and Clair, no. P 94). Her brother Hubert, two years older, appears with her in Les enfants Blanchard, 1937 (no. P 100); both their names are recorded on the reverse of the canvas. Picasso, by then the world’s most famous living artist, purchased the latter painting from the dealer Pierre Colle in 1941. “You’re the only painter of your generation who interests me,” Balthus recalls Picasso having told him. “The others try to make Picassos. You never do” (quoted in Vanished Spendors: A Memoir, New York, 2001, pp. 9-10).

Balthus last portrayed Thérèse in the present painting, seated on the banquette in which she appears in two earlier full-figure portraits (Monnier and Clair, nos. P 101 and P 112). At one time he envisioned a larger composition—perhaps on the scale of Les enfants Blanchard or even larger—the conception of which is known only from a loosely brushed study on a medium-sized board, painted earlier in 1939, Trois personnages dans un intérieur (no. P 122; sold, Sotheby’s London, 25 June 2009, lot 240). The three figures in the high-ceilinged interior—likely set in Balthus’s cour de Rohan studio—are Thérèse leaning back on the bench seat (as seen in the present painting), Hubert standing, his knee propped on a chair, gazing out the window, and their mother, Madame Blanchard, viewed from the side, resting in an armchair placed before a table. Three of four known preparatory drawings for this interior scene focus on Hubert.

Partly reclining on the banquette and turned to her left, Thérèsein the present painting dangles a string from her raised hand. In the smaller, three-figure essay, this string is attached to a ball. A kitten—not shown here—rears up and attempts to grasp the ball. In dispensing with the ball and cat in this picture, Balthus avoided the anecdotal distraction of the creature captured in stop-motion, as one might enjoy in a sentimental genre scene. The figure of the girl alone instead evokes a deeper sense of myth. Thérèse becomes an exemplar of l’éternel féminin, one of the ancient fates, said to measure and determine man’s thread of life.

In Thérèse sur une banquette, Balthus attended to the primarily professional, compositional concerns he had in mind—he aimed to depict the figure of his model in a novel, unique posture, one with neither a familiar nor apparent precedent. He moreover sought to evoke the inner world of her reality with a sense of presence that was outwardly and convincingly grounded in the mechanics of movement, while exalting the architecture of the figure. “The portrait of Thérèse on a Bench is caught in the sort of delicate balance that cannot last for more than a moment,” Jean Clair has written (V. Monnier and J. Clair, op. cit., 1999, p. 38).

Indeed, Thérèse displays the acrobatic ease and grace of the young girl saltimbanque in Picasso’s Rose period Acrobate à la boule, 1905 (Zervos, vol. 1, no. 290; Pushkin State Museum of Fine Art, Moscow). Balthus’s treatment of Thérèse recalls the gentle poetry of Picasso’s Rose period, even if rendered in a technique more like that of the 19th-century masters Courbet and Corot. A token of the rose tonality is here in evidence; “no reproduction can convey the unusual color of Thérèse’s sweater,” Rewald has commented, “which mingles red with shades of pumpkin and orange” (exh. cat., op. cit., 2013, p. 88).

Picasso surely appreciated Balthus’s mastery of the unusual pose, which lends Les enfants Blanchard, the painting he chose for his own collection, its visual novelty and charm, qualities that Thérèse sur une banquette shares with the earlier picture. Her poses in both pictures comprise a trapezoidal shape, which forms the base for a classic, Renaissance conception of a pyramidal composition. The pinnacle of this pyramid in the present painting is Thérèse’s upraised hand; in the room with her brother, his head in profile at the top center edge of the canvas. The artist also incorporates as a constructive means the diagonal emphasis characteristic of Baroque painting. Balthus invested the figures in both compositions with carefully plotted contrapposto, while also employing contrasts of bodily form with the geometry of furniture, and reiterations of formal elements, such as the arching of elbows and knees. From such imbalance and asymmetry Balthus created a configuration of parts that is sprawling and dynamic—yet stable, harmonized and whole.

Courtesy Alain Truong

#balthus

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sunyot · 2 months

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Troy and Annie in the LIBRARY!!!

Troy: (Groans) This biology textbook is killing me. Tiny roommates called what?

Annie: (Excitedly) Mitochondria! The cell's power source!

Troy: (Startled) Don't yell that! Superhero origin story much?

Annie: (Sighs) You skipped chapters, Troy. They're like energy factories!

Troy: Energy factories? Like they pay rent to the nucleus?

Annie: (Facepalms) Metaphor, Troy. Like Britta, the loose cannon.

Troy: (Eyes widen) Briefcases? Tiny briefcases?

Annie: (Trying not to laugh) Microscopic, Troy. No briefcases.

Troy: Drug dealers then? Supplying sugar highs?

Annie: (Bursts out laughing) No! They turn glucose into energy!

Troy: (Grins) Way cooler. Help me with ATP if I stop talking about drug dealers.

Annie: Deal. But no more laser tag talk, or I study with Abed.

Troy: (Mocks horror) Not Abed! Who appreciates my Pop-Tart theory?

Annie: (Laughs) Nobody, Troy. Now, back to those powerhouses...

#film #sunyot #sunyotmedia #movies #filmmaking #troy and abed #community greendale #greendale #community tv #nbc community #abed nadir #troy barnes #six seasons and a movie #donald glover #childish gambino

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web-novel-polls · 8 months

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MXTX Side Characters Tournament Submissions

SUBMISSIONS ARE CLOSED

Rules

One character per submission. If you want to submit multiple characters, please do so in separate forms

No main couples (Bingqiu, Wangxian, or Hualian)

Preliminary polls may occur to decide whether or not to include other significant characters like Feng Xin, Mu Qing, or Liu Qingge. Minor but popular characters like Six Balls will be allowed.

Tag: #mxtx side characters tournament

Submission List below the cut (Dealer's Choice not included)

SVSSS

Zhuzhi-lang

Submission 1: Snake boy my beloved

Submission 2: I love him

Shang Qinghua / Airplane

Submission (2): He's a sidekick and he's so sidelined that despite creating the universe he's treated as an afterthought - doubly a side character! But also? So relateable. He would absolutely have been on tumblr in his first life, he gets so excited about his blorbo who treats him terribly (until they finally get a happy ending in the extras - also! he has to wait for the extras to get his happy ending! very side-character of him). He holds the fascinating position of being mostly irrelevant to the story and yet without him the themes would totally fail. He deserves a win on something for once, okay?

Sha Hualing

Submission: Her cringefail losergirl swag has captivated me

Mu Qingfang

Submission: Ppl tend to completely forget he has a mad scientist side (see Jinlan arc) and if he gets into the tournament I'll have a reason to bring it up.

Daoist nuns triplets

Submission: Authors of "Song of BingQiu" and the true culprits behind the ass wine extra. Stop crediting Liu Mingyan with their hard work!

Mobei-jun

Submission: He's a demon tsundere who doesn't realize his human boyfriend is scared and easily squishable. Got demoted from king to cabinet minister during a hostile takeover but is pretty chill about it. Huge boobs.

Six Balls

Submission: When he was born he weighed as much as six balls. Current ball number unknown.

Helen of Troy*

Submission: uhm she isn't a Side character ? but she is referenced heavily by the main character and the subtext. This is integral to the plot of SVSSS because the subtext is where it's actually at. If all you do is read the book you will have several misconceptions of the plot. Anyway Shen Yuan!Shen Qingqiu is a metaphorical Helen of Troy within the story AND HE FUCKING SAYS THIS HIMSELF INSUSJSKS

*will have to pass a preliminary poll to be included in the tournament (<-thinks it would be funny to put her in)

Ning Yingying

Submission: Her glow-up in the SVSSS timeline is real! Instead of becoming Luo Binghe's childhood sweetheart, she roasts him for referring to her too familiarly. Love this for her.

Gongyi Xiao

Submission: He is such a Good Person who didn't deserve his fate :(

Qin Wanyue

Submission: Scum Villain's wettest and most pathetic loser! Of course, she's so pathetic that she's constantly overshadowed by more bombastically pathetic characters, but I think she deserves her chance at recognition.

OG Luo Binghe’s Harem

Submission: Binghe's harem the whole collection all of them together an amalgamation of all the wives

Tianlang-jun

Submission: Incredible character who does it like him

TGCF

Quan Yizhen

Submission: He's a good boi and thinking about him makes me cry a lil'.

Yin Yu

Submission: The guy of all time. The most average god ever. Someone give him a break. His face is so average that Xie Lian thought it was fake

Ling Wen

Submission: Girlboss. Did nothing wrong

Bai Jing (Brocade Immortal)

Submission: no 1 ling wen simp (just like me fr)

MDZS

A-Qing

Propaganda: She's so smart. She tricked so many people into thinking she was blind for so long. Also, she was really kind and considerate. Like she didn't have to save all of those people from Xue Yang. Oh and she's an excellent judge of character and super brave. Really hope she wins, she's such a fun little genius girl

Su Minshan / Su She

Propaganda: Idk I just kinda like him

Submission 2: Look at him having his own life and grudges and friendships and priorities completely unrelated to the main characters! He was so right to curse Jin Zixun

Wen Ning

Submission: This poor guy dealt with so much shit in life, only to be killed, resurrected, and forced to deal with Wuxian's bullshit for years on end

Jiang Cheng

Submission 1: Extremely traumatized yet also somehow the most normal and functional by the end. Huge bitch but I (and at least one of the other characters) think he deserves to be even worse after everything he's been through

Submission 2: Simultaneously badass and the most cringefail man. Extremely funny and stylish but still manages to be very uncool. Cries a lot. Also he's lost a lot of tumblr polls—let's give him another shot! We definitely love him more than his dad did!

Submission 3: He's got mommy issues AND daddy issues. He loves his sister and his shige so much. He's traumatised and incredibly competent. He rebuilt his whole sect! He's an asshole (affectionate). He's purple! He's got the coolest weapon ever conceived. I'm so worried about his blood pressure basically all the time.

Wen Qing

Submission 1: Doctor, mad scientist, war criminal, protective big sister... she has the range!!

Submission 2: Wen Qing my beloved!! She did surgery on a grape. Mad genius for real. Also a loving sister with a very sharp tongue and maybe no sense of how far is too far. Can't wait for them to find her alive in a Koi Tower basement!

Submission 3: Justice for my girl!!!!

Submission 4: She's bitchy and pragmatic and cares deeply and did an unprecedented operation (experimental and nonconsensual!), what's not to love? Also she deserved better.

Jin Ling

Submission 1: He may be a brat, but he has a good heart and a friendly dog. He thinks he's the main character of a much less intense story which keeps almost getting him killed

Submission 2: Bestest boy in the whole world. He's got a dog! A helicopter uncle! His dad's sword! Yeah he can be a little brat but he's SIXTEEN okay (or thirteen, or whatever, MXTX HELP) and he's got an incredible capacity for forgiveness. He's so good!

Xue Yang

Submission 1: No propaganda submitted

Submission 2: It's not that he's evil. He lacks empathy and he goes into a disassociative state and commits atrocities.

Xiao Xingchen

No propaganda submitted

Song Lan

No propaganda submitted

Fairy (Jin Ling’s dog)

Submission: The cutest, smartest, and goodest doggo! She's the one who led WangXian to the Nie sword tomb to save Jin Ling! and led Jiang Cheng to Guanyin Temple to save Jin Ling! and led Lan cultivators to the temple to help Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen (and Jin Ling!)

Bichen

Submission: this sword has been through a lot…

Lan Xichen

Submission: Pay your respects to the captain of the WangXian ship! Those idiots would keep pining for another 13282627 years if it weren't for him!

#mxtx side characters tournament #submissions #idk if the source material section of the form was strictly necessary but it does make my life easier so.#not a poll #tumblr tournament #character tournament #my submissions

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jadeseadragon · 3 months

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Probably Adrianus Hubertus, a.k.a. Adriaen Huberti (Flemish, ca. 1550 - ca. 1614, engraver, art dealer and publisher of prints and maps), Les Trois Lièvres, 1576.

#adrianus hubertus #adriaen huberti #three hares #les trois lièvres #drei hasen #16th century #engraving

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sombrashe · 3 months

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Snapchatting Dealer!Troy

troy 1. does not capitalize anything 2. does not give af about spelling errors 3. lets the stupid bar of text fall wherever it falls and covers shit half the time with text

#i know these are bad but they were fun so it doesn't matter #fear the walking dead #troy otto #troy otto x reader #dealer!troy #serena edits

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emjayewrites · 10 months

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ECHOES OF SEDUCTION

PAIRING: Ramona x Niccolò x Cem

SUMMARY: Ramona Warren, an alluring art dealer renowned for her impeccable taste, is thrust into a world far more intricate and hazardous than the one she knows. When the legitimate art dealership she works for is acquired by Nico's syndicate due to a drug debt gone unpaid, Mona's life transforms into a high-stakes gambit where the art world becomes a façade for money laundering, and her choices are no longer black and white. Rome's underworld is ruled by two men: Niccolò "Nico" Moretti, a commanding mafia boss with a lethal reputation, and Cem Özdemir, his loyal and equally compelling second-in-command.

Nico Moretti, a magnetic force veiled in danger and heir to the Bravi Fratelli Clan, recognizes Mona's potential as more than just a business asset. Drawn to her fiery spirit, he embroils her in his audacious plot to cleanse the syndicate's wealth through the world of art. Yet, as their shared world merges the lines between danger and desire, Mona's heart becomes a battleground for emotions she never anticipated.

Nico's steadfast second-in-command, Cem, harbors a history with Nico that extends beyond mere friendship. As close as brothers, they once shared women, indulging in an arrangement that blurred the lines of intimacy. As Mona enters their lives, a palpable tension emerges between the two men — one that resurfaces their past desires and raises questions about their future intentions. Mona finds herself torn between the unrelenting magnetism of Nico and the profound bond she shares with Cem.

When the ghosts of the past loom large, and Mona's choices reverberate through the corridors of power and deceit. As the truth unravels and alliances shift, she must confront her feelings and decide where her loyalties truly lie.

WARNINGS: drama, angst, cursing, explicit sexual content, slight enemies to lovers, reverse harem, eventual MFM (ménage a trois), eventual V-triad, usage and mentioning of drugs/alcohol, and mentioning of arms trafficking/drug distribution, scenes of violent/lewd acts. RATED M (19+)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story is a “reboot” of Crescendo but with original characters. I will share this as an official ebook on Amazon. I own the rights of this story and it is copywritten under law. All names and professionals are fiction. Any people, places, names/mentions are solely coincidental.

COMING SOON.....

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST.

#emjayewrites #original fiction #nico x mona x cem #echoes of seduction

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weedpoop · 11 days

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tell me about "machete order: an alternate analysis on prequels and heroic origins" (WHAT a title holy shit) + one dealer's choice! i love ur fics i think theyre awesome ESPECIALLY when theyre weird im sorry im so behind on reading everything uve posted...

HIIIII i love YOUR fics and i am so happy to talk to you about trobed always. let me tell you about trobed....

machete order !! so the title is based off of this the concept of this au was that troy got his football scholarship but dropped out, joined a dance troupe where he met britta, who never went back to college or anything like that. so abed and jeff still met each other at greendale and became friends, abed still moved out to LA eventually, became a filmmaker and developed a bit of a cult following there is a Lot going on here and i could probably just like actually post the story or something. but.

basically ...... jeff meets britta on reddit and is trying to set abed up with troy as an excuse to get closer to her abed is hesitant at first, esp because troy is a fan of his work and this makes things slightly awkward for him, but they end up hanging out and watching star wars and kinda falling in love. pretty fuckin gay ! here's a snippet from the second chapter -

When Abed pulled up to Troy’s hotel the next morning, the first thing to catch his eye was a familiar blue Lexus sitting under a palm tree. The second, crouched beneath it, was a black kitten.

“Whoa,” Troy said. “Stop, stop! Is that a cat?”

He scrambled to unbuckle before Abed could park.

“Troy,” he said. “You shouldn’t engage with random cats. What if it has rabies?”

“There’s no way something that cute has rabies.”

Abed sighed and called Jeff. His number popped onto the console screen and rang twice before his voice crackled through, thick and slow like he hadn’t slept.

“What do you want?”

“Hi.” Abed watched Troy, from his peripheral, lower the passenger side window. “Can you bring a blanket or towel down here? There’s a cat under your car.”

“What? Abed, where—”

“Be down in a sec!” Britta shouted. She coughed loudly and very much into the phone, then hung up.

Troy was making clicking noises with his mouth now, waving.

“Heeey, kitty!” he called. “C’mere!”

Abed put the car in park and shut it off. Navigating traffic was like performing surgery—or so he assumed, as a non-surgeon—and each time he still had to take a moment to collect himself afterward. Another difference between Colorado and California: the roads here were designed to make you slowly go insane.

“You good?” Troy asked. Abed shook himself and faced him, feeling far away.

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath in. “Yeah, I’m good. I hope Jeff and Britta got breakfast.”

“Me too,” Troy said. “I’m starving.”

He turned back to the cat.

“It’s so little and lost and alone, Abed,” he said. “Where do you think its mom went?”

Abed hummed in consideration. “Could’ve been attacked by a wild animal. Or run over by a car. Los Angeles is full of things that could kill or otherwise harm a cat.”

Troy whipped his head around to stare him down, eyes wide. He made a high sound in his throat and shook his head rapidly. Then he burst into tears.

“Or—” Abed tried to think. “Or maybe the kitten had an undiagnosed developmental disorder that put a strain on its family, so the mother cat divorced the father cat to pursue greater things.”

Troy hiccuped through sobs.

“That’s ridiculous,” he cried. “A cat would never sit through a divorce hearing. It’d just get bored and leave!”

“True.” Abed folded his hands in his lap. “Sorry.”

He wasn’t good at navigating emotions. Or interacting with people. Or comforting them.

Growing up, his parents had shoved him into waiting room after waiting room like if they let enough strangers in white coats poke and prod they’d find the glitch in his code, the vacancy he carried that in everyone else was filled with the Right Things To Say and Right Things To Do. The night before his mom left, he woke up in the dark and found her at the kitchen table, head in her hands as she cried. He wanted to ask what was wrong. But even then, he knew.

He looked at Troy, this stranger in his car, and wondered once again what to do.

A knock at the window startled him.

Jeff, red-eyed and disheveled, stood outside with a fuzzy blanket. His voice was muffled through the glass. “Hey, jackass!”

Abed squinted against the sun as he lowered the window.

“Be quiet,” he whispered. “You’ll scare it off.”

Britta appeared from behind Jeff with a bowl of water.

“Yeah, Jeff!” she yelled. “Be quiet!”

Ignoring them, Troy opened his door and slid out slowly. He called out in a soft voice.

At first, the cat didn’t move. It stood its ground and watched. Troy crept over, inch by inch, and finally, once he was near it, held out a hand. “Hey little guy,” he whispered, “or gal. Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

It blinked at him with its huge, all-knowing eyes. Despite its youth, the cat had clearly seen some shit.

Abed held his breath as it approached Troy, one paw at a time like the ground might explode. The moment its nose met his hand was pulled straight from a Hallmark movie. The good kind, with the right balance of plot and emotion—not one of those cheesy Christmas movies with a conventionally attractive yet comically stupid all-white cast.

Anyway, everyone else also held their breath, and ceased other internal functions too.

“Would you look at that,” Jeff said. “I think it likes him.”

A few feet away, Troy wrapped his arms around the kitten. It snuggled into him, purring.

“Yeah.” Abed’s chest warmed as he watched. “I think it does.”

Troy spoke up suddenly. “Hey, guys. I think we should probably get this thing to a vet. Its eye is all crusty and weird looking.”

Britta set the bowl on the ground and rushed over.

“I hope it’s not infected,” she said. “My friend died from an eye infection that went to her brain. Completely killed the vibes at Burning Man.”

Troy looked close to tears again.

“Hey Jeff,” Abed said. “Why don’t you and Britta take it to the vet? Troy and I will cat-proof the hotel room in the meantime.”

Jeff’s face lit up. “Good idea.” He turned to Britta with a shit-eating grin. “Let’s go save a life.”

***

okay and for my choice..... ermmmm environmental effects of human behavior is one of my favorite wips that ill probably never post. it is pretty ... explicit so heres just the first part of it

“Man,” Jeff says, looking up from his phone for the first time in an hour, “those twins are seriously hot. I wonder what classes they’re in.”

Britta follows his gaze past the windows, out to the library, where two identical blonde women are browsing shelves near the water fountains.

“I think one of them is in my psych class,” she says. “I’m not sure which.”

Pierce turns to see what all the fuss is about.

“Well, you could probably use my help.”

“Try someone more your league or century,” Jeff shoots back. “I think I can handle this one on my own.”

“Or!” Annie’s grinning in the way that means something terrible is about to happen. “Or we could set them up with Troy and Abed! How cute would that be?” “C’mon, Annie,” says Jeff. “Why would Troy and Abed want to bang a pair of hot twins? They’re too busy playing in cardboard boxes and giving each other prostate orgasms to hang out with us half the time.”

“Jeff, ew!” Annie shrieks. “That is so inappropriate!”

“And not at all condoned by the Bible,” adds Shirley.

“There’s nothing wrong with looking out for your health,” Britta says. “Did you know one in eight men in the US will be diagnosed with prostate cancer? It’s only gonna get worse now that the ocean’s filled with plastic.” Troy’s eyes go wide.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asks, dropping his book. “And why do I feel like I missed out on a class that everyone else already took?”

“They’re talking about gay sex,” says Pierce.

“What?” Troy asks. “Why?”

“They think we’re too busy having it to get girlfriends,” Abed explains. “Which isn’t the reason. It’s mostly the costumes and our dedication to a good homage that puts the ladies off.”

Troy nods with a sad little sigh. “It’s true.”

“Yeah,” Jeff says as he turns back to his phone. “I’m sure that’s why.”

–

“Hey, Abed?” Troy asks that night. “Do you know what was up with Jeff earlier?”

Abed glances away from the TV. “Aside from what’s normally up with him? No.”

“Like,” Troy starts, waiting for his brain to load, “the stuff with the twins was really weird, and kinda scary. And now I don’t know what I’m gonna do about the oceans.”

“I’m not sure there’s much you can do.”

Troy looks down.

“Damn,” he whispers.

“I know,” Abed says. “The inevitable climate apocalypse is a lot to take in. I think that’s probably why people like Jeff lash out so much. It’s a way to cope with the slow spiral down the drain of eternity.”

Troy nods. “That makes sense. Is that why he was making such a big deal about us being pro-state?”

“No,” Abed says through a bite of popcorn. “Well, yes. Sort of. Humanity’s demise turns some people into heroes and others into monsters.” Instead of elaborating on Jeff’s weird issues, he points at the screen and says simply, “Let’s keep watching Kickpuncher.”

“Cool,” Troy says.

He pulls his knees up to his chest in a mirror of Abed. It’s late and they should probably be asleep, but these moments when Annie’s in bed and it’s just the two of them are his favorite. He feels special. Like he could tell Abed anything right now.

“It just annoys me sometimes,” he finds himself saying absently. “When Jeff and other people say that stuff about us, I mean. Firstly, it’s none of their business why girls think we’re weird, and it’s—it’s just stupid, like, I don’t even really get what he was talking about. It makes me feel like an idiot.”

“Hm?” Abed turns to him. “Oh.” He pauses, realization setting over his face with a raised brow. “Really?”

Troy huffs, sliding down in his chair.

“I mean, I get the general idea. But. “ He shrugs. “They don’t exactly teach you this stuff at bible camp, man.”

Abed nods. “I get it. I guess I just thought otherwise based on some things you’ve said before.” He pauses while chewing another kernel. “Then again, it’s not like they teach this stuff in school either.”

Troy folds his arms. His chest feels hot. Like he’s—like he needs to be defensive, or like there’s something he’s missing or doesn’t understand.

“Well, how do you know about all this?”

“I have a computer with internet access,” Abed says. “And a general idea of how human anatomy works.”

“I took anatomy last semester.” Troy’s face is burning. “I just—I mean, Abed, can you show me? I feel like I’m missing out on something here.”

“Sure,” Abed says. “We can watch some videos later.”

“I meant, like—” He glances up at him, then back down. “You and me, if you wanted to.”

Blinking, Abed pauses Kickpuncher and turns to him. In the low lighting, his eyes look dark, almost black.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “Some people might find that a little awkward.”

Troy shrugs again with a small laugh.

“I don’t know. Not me,” he says. “I trust you. Like I said, I just wanna get it, and Britta really freaked me out with the whole cancer thing.”

Abed nods.

“Your health is important.” He’s silent for a moment, thinking, then nods again. “We’ll need to wait for a night Annie’s out of the apartment.”

“Okay.” Troy’s stomach does a little flip. “Awesome. Thanks, man. Do you think I should ask her?”

“No. She has her book club Friday, so let’s try to plan for after seven.”

Troy nods. His brain feels like a circuit board drenched in water, broken and sparking, and he doesn’t know why.

“Cool,” he says.

–

The next morning, Abed’s making cereal in the kitchen when Troy unzips the blanket fort and steps out. He totally doesn’t stare at his fingers around the spoon or the lean muscle of his arms in his Star Wars t-shirt. Instead, Troy very normally sits at the table and counts the spirals in the wood.

“You want some?”

He jumps and almost falls out of his chair.

“Abed,” he gasps. “Don’t do that to me.”

“Do what? Make you cereal? Fine, I’m a terrible roommate.” Abed takes a bite of Lucky Charms and sits across the table. “We should get ready soon. I think our biology exam’s this morning.”

“Ugh,” Troy says. “I didn’t study at all.”

Abed hums. “Me neither. I’ll have to cheat off of Garrett again.”

“Man, I don’t wanna keep doing that. We’re definitely gonna get caught one of these times.”

“Hm, probably,” Abed says. “Until then, we should try to be as covert as possible.”

Troy nods. So far, there are 14 big spirals and 10 little ones, some of which are inside the bigger ones like little Russian dolls but, like, if Russian dolls were a wooden table they got from a guy in Denver who claimed to sell possessed furniture.

“By the way,” Abed says, “since it’s Thursday, we should stop at the store later. I’m pretty sure I’m out of lube and we’ll want some for tomorrow.” “Okay,” Troy chokes out. “Yeah, let’s definitely do that.”

He loses count.

–

“Can you go in?” Troy asks, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. The street outside the corner store is busy and the wind bites at his skin.

“Let’s go in together,” Abed says. “What if you get hit by a car?”

“Then I’m rich and we get to buy a mansion in Hollywood.” Abed shakes his head. “Most bodily injury claims are settled for under a couple thousand dollars. You’d be lucky getting a studio apartment down the street.”

“I hate society,” Troy says darkly.

Abed nods, then points.

“Agreed. Let’s hurry before we get mugged again.”

He holds the door open and follows as Troy enters. Troy blinks under the fluorescents, feeling impossibly lost in this stupid store he’s been in, like, a hundred times. He has no clue what he’s looking for.

Abed, however, is brushing past him to the third aisle near the back, gaze intent. Once he stops in the pharmacy section, he looks down at Troy and squints.

“Are you allergic to glycerin?”

“No?” Troy says. “I think?”

“Cool.” Abed’s voice is low when he speaks again, like he’s divulging top-secret info. “We’ll probably want to go with something water-based. A lot of people like silicone because it lasts longer, but the extra coating means it can cause friction burns and it’s annoying to clean up. Plus, we can always just use more if we need it.”

“Okay, awesome,” Troy says. In contrast to the brisk cold outside, it’s weirdly hot in here. He stares at his shoes to try to cool his face off. When he looks up, Abed is still shuffling through the row of tubes. His fingers are so long.

“Found it,” he says after a minute. “This one’s good. I think you’ll like it.”

“Will it give me special powers?” Troy asks. “Or make me see new colors?”

“Maybe.” Abed wiggles his brows. “Let me know, because I’ve been meaning to learn transmutation and if this is the key that unlocks it, I’d like to stock up.”

Troy grimaces. “Man, if it transmutates me I’m gonna be pissed. I have library books I still need to return.”

Abed hums in agreement and reaches into his pocket. His eyes widen.

“I forgot my wallet,” he whispers, then shoves the bottle in his shoe. “I’m going to run.”

Troy nods.

“On three.”

–

When they get back, Annie’s still at study group, which—Troy checks the clock—doesn’t end for another twenty minutes, then she’s picking up pizza, and that’s another… Well, he’s not very good at math, but she won’t be home for at least an hour. The lights are dim and it’s quiet as Abed un-stuffs the lube from his shoe and sets it on the table.

“I need you to do a few things for me,” he says.

“Whatever you want. You know that.” Troy flops onto the couch while Abed continues, now sitting at the table to remove his shoes.

“Tomorrow night, after school, if you could take one of your famously long showers that’d be good. Really get in there, if you know what I mean.”

Troy nods. “I can do that.”

“Also, try to avoid any processed, spicy, or oily foods for the next twenty-four hours.”

Troy frowns. “But I wanted pizza.”

“I’ll eat salad with you,” Abed offers, standing.

“Um, have you been replaced by a clone?”

Abed shakes his head.

“I don’t think so,” he says. “But I’m not sure I’d know if I was.”

“That’s scary, man. Imagine living your whole life as someone else and you don’t even know it.” Troy gasps. “Am I Obama?”

“I hope so.”

Abed joins Troy on the couch and reclines his head, thinking. His adam's apple bobs as he breathes in and Troy does try not to stare, he really does. It’s just hard, is all.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “Abed.”

“Hm?”

Abed turns his head and meets his eyes, looking down, lids low. Troy feels dizzy—someone should check the carbon monoxide alarm.

“Since Annie won’t be home for awhile—”

The front door bursts open. Annie, pizza in-hand, storms in wearing a thousand-yard stare.

“That was traumatizing. Pierce lost another bet to Jeff, and—I really don’t want to get into specifics, but I can’t look at trombones the same way ever again.”

Sighing, she throws the pizza on the table and removes her jacket. Then she pauses. Troy feels his stomach jump into his throat as she picks up the little tube and inspects it.

“What’s this?”

“Oh.” Abed blinks, sitting up straight. “That’s mine.”

“Oh!” Annie gasps and goes red. She sets it back down. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay. I should’ve put that away.” He glances at Troy before standing and taking it, then disappears into the blanket fort.

“Well,” Annie tries, “good for Abed.” Her smile is so forced it looks painful. She opens the pizza box, glancing at Troy. “That’s… not gonna make anything awkward for you guys, is it?”

“What?” Troy asks. “Of course not. Why would it?”

“It’s just that,” she starts, “historically, you may have been known to get a little… I mean, just a tiny, tiny bit jealous when Abed, you know, pays attention to other people? But—but hey, good for you! And him!”

“Annie, why would I be jealous? Did they do something to your brain?” He sure feels like his is breaking. Probably due to lack of pizza.

“What’d they do to Annie’s brain?” Abed locks the door to the blanket fort with a quiet zip. “Oh, that smells good.”

“I got extra pepperoni on one half,” she says, beaming. “And extra cheese on the other half. Just like you guys wanted!”

“Thanks, Annie,” Troy grits out. “But Abed and I are actually—”

“Trying to eat healthy,” Abed finishes. “We’ve been overdoing it with junk food lately. Troy’s been getting these pains in his stomach… It’s bad.”

“Oh my god, Troy,” Annie gasps, turning to face him. Troy shoots a look at Abed, who shrugs, eyes wide. “Are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“Nope,” he says. “Nope, I’m—I’ll be fine. Abed’s gonna take good care of me.”

“I am.” Abed nods. “Let’s have something else tonight. Maybe we’ll save the pizza for tomorrow.”

Troy sighs. “Salad, anyone?”

#figbian #trobed #both of these are basically finished but a little on the weird side i feel like idk. hesitant to post. plus i have that other thing going o #hope u guys like the little snippets tho

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panthera-tigris-venenata · 10 months

Note

Ginny Gothel prompt: “I have such soft hair and nobody is playing with it!”

Obviously involving disaster threesome.

@humaforever I’m tagging you here since you asked for similar prompt, hopefuly you don’t mind.

Anyway. Ginny Gothel. If you were wondering what’s wrong with her, she’s massively iron deficient, through definitely absolutely NO fault of her mother’s. (She’s probably also high, but psst.) (She’s not okay.)

I didn’t mange to write Harriet into the actual plot, she’s only mentioned, but this is very much disaster threesome story. Just saying.

I hope you enjoy!

„My hair is so soft,“ Ginny sighs, pulling at one of her curls and then letting it spring loose. And again, and again. It’s pretty.

„Mmhm,“ mutters Mad Maddy in obvious disinterest. If she didn’t run her „Apothecary“ as she did, Ginny might have considered poisoning her. …Then again, it might not have been effective anyway. (Don’t ask, you’re better off not knowing.)

„My hair is so soft,“ Ginny repeats, lifting her head to look at Maddy, who is still sitting opposite her, which is neat.

„And?“ Maddy finally answers.

„And?!“ Ginny squeals in exasperation and sits up fully, which has the unfortunate effect of making the world spin in front of her eyes. „My hair is so amazingly soft, Maddy, and no one is playing with it!“

„Well, that just sounds like a you problem,“ Maddy says. To make the matters worse, she is playing with one of her broken dolls, running her nails through its tangled hair. Which is very mean of her, and Ginny tells her so. But Maddy only preens in response.

Yeah, Ginny was going for that, totally. After all, Maddy is her dealer.

So Ginny bites her lip and continues playing with her hair herself, which is extremely unfair and heartbreaking, really. She sighs audibly every few moments, hoping to get a more sympathetic reaction out of the other girl.

„For fucks sake, Gin!“ Maddy finally snaps, „Go annoy someone else! Harriet or Anthony! You’re being a horny bitch in my Apothecary, and you know the rules!“

„The rules are “No kissing in the Apothecary”!“ Protests Ginny.

„The rules are “No kissing or fucking in the Apothecary, and also no traitorous purple headed fae”, and they’re being updated!“ snarks Maddy back, „Besides, Junior and Trois said they’d be coming in the evening, and I don’t need you scaring off customers!“

It is dim already, but it is dim always. Anyone’s guess when „evening“ is. Or when the Gaston twins think it is.

Ginny makes a face: „And what are the rules being updated to?“

„No being a whiny horny bitch,“ concludes Maddy triumphantly, and raises her doll to the face level. Ginny makes a face at the doll too–

„Out!“ commands Maddy, pointing at the door with her free hand.

Ginny stands up abruptly, and fuck, the world whites out for a moment. She hisses through her teeth, and knows that Maddy doesn’t even look at her; her hand shots out against the wall, to steady her, and her nails leave incisions in it.

Neat.

„Fine,“ she says as she rakes her nails along the wall for greater effect, „I didn’t wanna stay here anyway.“

As she leaves, she almost runs into the Gaston twins by the door – they only just step away from her way, which is good, because otherwise she’d fall and she might not want to get up again.

She steps into frigid Isle air and behind her, Maddy yells at the twins: „Well what are you waiting for? One of you go with her! If something happens to her, Harriet will throw a temper tantrum and it’ll be my problem!“

Needless to say, Maddy does not wish to deal with angry Harriet Hook. Unfortunately, Ginny – if she says so herself – doesn’t need a bloody bodyguard.

She whirls around as fast as she dares and tells Trois so, with her dagger pointed vaguely in the direction of his neck. As if that would do any good – she aims the dagger to a significantly lower place. Trois pales a bit.

He doesn’t tell her to relax or calm down, which earns him a small insignificant plus.

Ginny narrows her eyes at him anyway.

A broken doll flies through the still open door and whacks Trois in the back of the head: he drops her voice to barely more than whisper: „I’ll go behind you. Respectful distance. You won’t even know I’m here.“

Silence. Her knife doesn’t move.

„Come on, Gin, we both know the next thing she’s throwing at me is gonna explode–“

Yes, and it would likely ruin both her clothes and her hair, which would be absolutely unforgivable – And she simply isn’t talking with Maddy anymore, thank you for asking. So without another word, Ginny turns back around and marches straight ahead; her head protests the sudden movement, but hey. That’s fine. She’s not smelling ozone yet, not really, and as long as she’s not fainting, she’s good to go.

She takes a moment of her precious time to curse her mother and her dubious rituals – Auradon and it’s fucking Barrier.

Trois stays in respectful distance, as he promised, but Ginny can hear him behind her all the same. She ignores him. She doesn’t bother hiding her dagger.

It doesn’t take her long to cross the Isle to Anthony’s saloon, not with that look in her eyes and Gaston’s son at her back. Just the last corner – she exhales loudly and waves Trois away. He can only now leave without Maddy yelling at him (His fault for being a horrible liar, really.)

However, Ginny finds she’s hard pressed to care.

Instead, she checks her reflection in the dark window: A cape of the colour of fine dark wine, and the lipstick to match, smudged just enough to drive Anthony crazy. A dagger in her hand – she should probably hide it now. (So the knife disappears, though not before she checks her reflection in it too.) (Her eyes are open wide.) She pulls at her hair and watches as her reflection’s curls spring back into place.

She is jealous of her reflection.

With a resolute shake of her head, (her hair bouncing all around), she stops looking at herself and walks into the saloon. „Anthony!“ she exclaims over the awful wind-chimes that Dizzy loves and that give her an instant headache.

To her eternal annoyance, no one comes.

„Anthony–“ the doors click shut behind her and she allows the slightest hint of whine to slip into her voice.

Finally, footsteps – though far too light and perky to be his. Ginny grimaces and pulls at her hair.

She doesn’t bother hiding the grimace as Dizzy Tremaine rounds the corner, only narrowing her eyes at the younger girl. Which effectively freezes her mid-greeting, which is good, since she’s always so annoyingly cheerful and the world is so rude and unjust.

Dizzy’s accessories are sparkling in the lacklustre light of the saloon and it’s giving Ginny headache, too. She closes her eyes for just a second, just to stop looking at little Dizzy’s honestly offensive jewellery.

„Holly evil–“ When Ginny opens her eyes again, little Dizzy is standing right next to her, her hand hovering over her elbow. „Come sit down,“ Dizzy says as she guides her to the worn out sofa.

„I wish to speak with Anthony–“ protests Ginny quite fruitlessly, as the little Tremaine has disappeared already. Finding little usefulness in going to look for her, Ginny sinks into the once–decadent pillows – It’s Tremaine’s saloon, isn’t it? Anthony will come to check sooner or later. She is tired.

Dizzy reappears, holding out a glass of clear liquid for her to take: Water. Probably. Possibly. Poison. Bleach. Ginny reaches for the glass and brings it to her lips, almost, almost – She tips the whole glass down, lets the liquid pour down and the glass clutter uselessly on the floor. It doesn’t break. She stares at Dizzy; Dizzy stares back, for barely a heartbeat. Then she sighs, bends down to pick up the glass, and says: „Alright. I’ll go get Anthony for you.“

As she bounces away, Ginny pulls at her curls. „You’d be such a dear for that,“ she manages to say as the little Tremaine bounces away, just the right level of saccharin in her voice.

If she’d care to listen, she might have heard the Tremaine cousins talking and giggling upstairs, Anthony disciplining them. His steps as he walks downstairs. No annoying chimes this time.

„Ginny?“ She looks up at him, and abruptly stands up. Her world goes white again, and she tastes metal for just a heartbeat, „Sunflower, what’s wrong?“ In another heartbeat, he’s hugging her tight, which is probably a good thing. For closely unspecified reasons. She clings to his shoulders, tightly enough for her nails to hurt him even through all the layers he is wearing, and breathes in through clenched teeth. Then again. And again. If she’d have to guess, she’d say that the world has returned to its miserable true colours by now, but, you see, checking would require her to lift her head from his shoulder. Which would be a shame.

She breathes in again and loosens her grip on him. „What’s wrong?“ he asks again, as if the answer wasn’t „Every-fucking-thing,“ or, alternatively, „Existence.“

Instead, she leans away a bit, his hands moving to her hips, and slowly answers: „I have such soft hair, Anthony–“

He smiles: „I know. I did your hair just this morning, remember?“ As if that was relevant just now.

She swats at his shoulder lightly – don’t interrupt me! He presses his lips together in an exasperated expression, holding it only long enough for her to notice. Which is, of course, why she pretends she didn’t see.

„As I was saying,“ she starts again, „I have such soft hair,“ („Thanks to me.“), „And no one is playing with it!“

„Oh?“ he flashes a half-smirk at her and runs his fingers along her scalp, „That better, then?“

„Much.“

Ginny would be content to stay like this for quite a long time, so she’s understandably quite annoyed when she realises Anthony doesn’t agree. Selfish traitor.

„Ginny, what did you do the whole day?“ he asks, as if it was any of his concern.

„Visited mother. Then Maddy,“ she answers anyway, because he is playing with her hair and because it is nice. She hides her face in his neck again.

He mutters something like „I’m gonna kill both of them,“ but his fingers are still in her hair, so it takes her a moment to react. „You leave Maddy alone–“

„Perfect,“ he says with a teasing smirk, „I’m gonna tell Harriet we’re free to take a go at your lovely mother.“

„No!“

„Why not, though?“

Well, for starters… Ginny presses closer to him and says: „If you’d both go track my mother down, I’d have no one to play with my hair. Again.“ She keeps the absolutely genuine betrayal and hurt and accusation clear in her voice.

He tugs at her hair: „And we can’t have that.“

„Exactly.“

Now he’s getting it.

Though, one must say, Harriet sure looks hot when on the warpath.

It’s quiet for a while, save for some giggling girls that are quickly glared away.

„You feeling better now, Sunflower?“ he asks finally, „I’ve got work to do, you know?“

Ginny leans away and summons tears to her eyes: „Ditch,“ she breathes out.

„I can’t–“

„Fuck your grandmother. Ditch,“ she looks up at him, leaning closer, and his grip in her hair tightens, „I want to see Harriet.“

He swallows heavily, eyes at her lips and the smudged lipstick, which is probably printed into his shirt too, now, and moves his hand to her cheek. „Okay,“ he says, „Let’s go find Harriet.“

#disney descendants #ginny gothel #mad maddy #dizzy treamine #anthony tremaine #ehm #mentioned:#Harriet hook #substance abuse #like not on screen but it’s very much going on here #Ginny is also masivelly iron deficient of you were wondering #AND she is a manipulative bitch AND I love her

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awesomeassfuck · 3 months

Note

You mentioned on the ask about adopted Troy that you had some darker ideas - may I hear more about that?

omg so sorry I just saw this!! Life is very hectic for me at home lately (good things! but still hectic!) and I haven't been on here nearly as much!

Soooo... my usual or "primary" headcanon is that Troy's bio mom was only 14 when she had him. She had a really bad home life (drugs, possibly abuse, etc.) and was in a "relationship" with a man much older than her. The exact way she knows the man isn't always the same - it might be her or her family's drug dealer, it might be a corrupt pastor or teacher that most people around look up to. She was either "strongly encourage" (read: threatened) to give him up for adoption, or she wanted to give him a better life and placed him with his now-parents. She wasn't able to keep contact despite wanting to because of her family and the man that got her pregnant.

My other even darker (imo) idea, which is less fleshed out, is that Troy's bio dad is Coach Bolton's brother/Troy's uncle. Again, large age difference between him and Troy's bio mom (30yo bio dad and 14-16yo bio mom). Troy's bio dad/uncle is arrested. For whatever reason, she moved in with Coach and his wife (I never really had a good reason - perhaps she was one of his students, had a bad home life, and the courts placed her with them? Idk, I chalk it up to "fanfic magic"). Shortly after Troy was born, his bio mom killed herself, bio dad goes to jail for statutory rape (among possibly other things?), and Troy's parents formally adopt him. Never fleshed out much beyond that, but I always wanted to...

(I have an embarrassingly large number of fanfic ideas that deal with Troy's adoption. Usually with the former idea in which Troy and his bio mom reunite through various circumstances, but they're so niche that I doubt I'll ever get to them)

Thank you so much for asking! I love talking about HSM! Even if it apparently takes me a minute to get to it lol

(also you're one of my favorite blogs, I just had to say that!)

#troy boltons pink jelly #troy-boltons-pink-jelly #asks #hsm #troy bolton #headcanon #idk what to tag this #i never usually post anything that requires trigger warnings #tw rape #tw abuse #tw suicide #tw drugs #i think those are the big things?#let me know i guess

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thehotelpod · 9 months

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i've been bitten by the star trek bug lately and i know you're a trekkie too, so i gotta ask: what alien species do you think the different hotel characters would be if they were in star trek? madam hotel def has Q energy but idk abt the others so i'm curious to know your take 🤔 (feel free to ignore this too though lol)

oh boy star trek! let’s do everyone, and don’t worry i’m throwing in pictures too and explanations too!

Manager - Vulcan. she’s cool, calm, and logical. plus she can pull off the bowl cut. This Vulcan is an arms dealer so sometimes they can be bad.

Lobby Boy - it’s tempting to go for the easy joke and say Pakled, but our boy is on a journey from prey animal to predator so he is a kelpien.

The Owner - Cardassian. Cuz he loves paper work. but seriously folks, Gul Dukat’s being forever an unliked outsider desperate to be one of the cool kids is Ownercore all day.

The Hotel Herself - whatever the hell Naglium is. This thing trapped the Enterprise and just stared killing people out of curiosity. Q is a good guess too, but Q has got too many secret (good/mischievous??) intentions

bonus! Madam Hotel - Lwaxana Troi. This one’s harder to explain broadly, you’re just gonna have to trust me.

The Bellhop - Vidiian. their population is infected with the Phage and they stay alive by harvesting the organs and flesh of whomever is unlucky enough to find them. i think she’s have fun doing that.

The Concierge - Romulan. He’s so deadly, but so charming, so classy, so mysterious.

The Auditor - Vorta. The powerful cloned right hands of the Founders whom they worship as gods (though they are treated as disposable irritants). I actually wrote her first episode very much with Weyoun in mind so this one was easy.

#and that’s star trek baby #yes Madam Hotel and the Hotel Herself are two kinda different characters in my mind #Thanks for the question this was fun!

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freyapoststhings · 10 months

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But I'll know(I'll know) - An Apollo angst oneshot by me

Apollo was on Delos, avoiding his father. Zeus had accused him of something he couldn't be bothered to argue against, and had managed to storm off before he got hit by the kings' lightning.

Now, he subconsciously knew that wasn't how his father was supposed to act. He knew that. But he refused to believe it. Apollo had always kept Zeus and his lightning apart, as two separate beings.

Zeus, being the kind loving father that he was supposed to be, and his lightning, which was the cruel dealer of accusation, punishment, and abuse.

Little did he know, he wasn't alone. Artemis watched her brother from afar. She knew something was bothering him, but he refused to disclose a reason. The goddess had known something was off for millennia. He wasn't her sweet innocent baby brother anymore. He'd changed.

She had a feeling it was something to do with their father, but you had to be incredibly bold to accuse the king of anything. Anytime Apollo was around Zeus, she noticed, he carried himself differently. He was stiff and less open. Apollo would talk more carefully, avoided eye contact, with everyone, and was more of a ghost or shadow in the background.

That in of itself was very bizarre to the moon goddess. She got up from her position behind the pillar and started the small trip to the cliff where her brother was sitting. Apollo's eyes drifted away from the ocean, and watched his sister as she approached.

"Brother." She greeted him as she sat down a few feet away. He replied with a small nod, not making eye contact. She sighed and took her bow off her back. This was a small sign the twins had created years ago. Taking off your weapon and offering it to the other was a notion to train, usually with said weapon.

Apollo glanced at the bow, then to his sister. He grinned and stood up, offering a hand to his older sister. She huffed in amusement, grabbing the bow with one hand and Apollo's with the other. He hauled her up and looked her in the eye. His smile softened. This causes Artemis to allow her lips to quirk up a bit.

Artemis grabs her brother's shoulder and teleports them to the archery range a few hundred yards away. Despite popular belief, Delos was not just a flat space for their mother to birth her children. The island was much more homey. There was a small cottage on the north side of the island, surrounded by forests and plains. There were beaches and, as they grew older, temples on the east and west sides of the island. Apollo's temple was on the east, which is the side the sun rises from, and directly opposite of it in the west, was his sister's.

As they got older and gained more territories that they reigned over, symbols were slowly added to the island. One of those being the archery range. As both god and goddess of archery, it was a staple for their birth place.

They landed right in front of the rack that held the bows, crossbows, and arrows. Artemis summoned her bow to her hand and snatched a quiver off the rack, Apollo doing the same.

—-------

They shot for a few hours, making some small talk but mostly staying silent. By the time they decided to call it quits, it had turned into a friendly competition, Artemis winning 29-28. The two shook hands and agreed to no hard feelings.

Apollo felt better than he had at the start of the day. He silently thanked his sister, bid her goodbye, and willed himself to split his essence. Half going to drive the sun chariot, as it was already nearing sunset. Had time really gone by so quickly?

He appears in his temple on Olympus, quickly walking through the long halls to his art room.The room's walls were covered in paintings and drawings. Each telling a story. The battle of Troy, the fall of the Roman Empire, and many other major events in both history and his time alive.

The ground was also populated with easels, canvases, paint buckets, and more. Apollo cringed slightly at the mess before going towards the nearest clean easel. He changes out of his chiton, and replaces it with a large shirt and sweatpants. He puts up his long hair, and summons a paint brush.

He wasn't sure what he wanted to paint, but he knew he had to just let his hand do what it wanted to. That night, he let his emotions and the events of the day wash over him and pour out of his fingertips. Several prices were made, all of different scenes. The fight with his father, the moment on the cliff, the hours of relief with his sister. By the time he was finished, it was long past sunset.

He smiles. How could he ever live without his dear sister?

If you want to support me, here's the AO3 link!:

Thanks for reading!

#Apollo pjo #percy jackson #trials of apollo #Pjo Apollo #apollo hcs #artemis #greek gods #Twin archers #Let's make that a tag mkay?#Zeus sucks #tw: long post #tw: implied abuse

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sellgoldncr · 2 months

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How To Sell Gold For Cash: A Comprehensive Guide

Assessing Your Gold

Before selling your gold for cash, it's essential to assess its value accurately. Determine the purity of your gold items by checking for hallmarks or conducting a purity test. Weigh your gold using a scale to calculate its total weight. Understanding the purity and weight of your gold will help you determine its market value.

When preparing to Sell Gold for cash, the first step is to assess the value of your gold items accurately. This involves determining the purity and weight of your gold, as these factors play a crucial role in determining its market value.

One way to assess the purity of your gold is to look for hallmarks or stamps on your gold jewelry or coins. These markings indicate the karatage or purity of the gold, with common hallmarks including 24K, 18K, 14K, and 10K. If your gold items are not stamped with a hallmark, you can use a gold testing kit to determine their purity accurately.

In addition to assessing purity, it's essential to weigh your gold items using a digital scale. Gold is typically measured in troy ounces, grams, or pennyweights, so amake sure your scale is calibrated to the appropriate unit of measurement. Once you have determined the weight of your gold, you can calculate its total value based on the current market price of gold.

Researching Current Market Prices

Before selling your gold, research current market prices to ensure you get a fair deal. Gold prices fluctuate daily based on supply and demand dynamics, economic conditions, and geopolitical factors. Use reliable sources such as financial news websites or precious metal market indices to track gold prices in real-time.

One of the most crucial steps in selling gold for cash is researching current market prices to ensure you receive a fair offer. Gold prices fluctuate constantly due to various factors, including changes in supply and demand, economic indicators, and geopolitical events. Therefore, it's essential to stay informed about the latest developments in the gold market before selling your gold items.

There are several ways to research current gold prices. One option is to use online resources such as financial news websites, precious metal market indices, or mobile apps that provide real-time updates on gold prices. These platforms offer valuable insights into gold price trends and allow you to track price movements over time.

Another option is to consult with reputable gold dealers or pawnshops in your area to inquire about current buying prices. While local dealers may offer slightly lower prices compared to online buyers, they can provide personalized service and immediate cash payment for your gold items.

By researching current market prices through multiple sources, you can gain a better understanding of the fair value of your gold and negotiate confidently with Gold Buyer when selling your gold for cash.

Choosing A Reputable Gold Buyer

When selling gold for cash, it's crucial to choose a reputable buyer to ensure a smooth and fair transaction. Look for buyers who are licensed, experienced, and transparent about their pricing policies. Avoid dealing with buyers who pressure you to sell or offer prices significantly below market value.

Selecting a reputable buyer is essential when selling gold for cash to ensure a fair and secure transaction. With numerous buyers available, it's crucial to conduct thorough research and choose a buyer who is licensed, experienced, and trustworthy.

One way to identify reputable Gold Buyers is to check for certifications or accreditations from recognized industry organizations. Look for buyers who are members of associations such as the Jewelers of America or the Better Business Bureau, as these organizations uphold strict standards of ethical conduct and customer service.

Additionally, consider reading online reviews and testimonials from past customers to gauge the reputation of potential buyers. Positive reviews and high ratings are indicators of a buyer's reliability and professionalism, while negative reviews may signal red flags such as hidden fees or poor customer service.

Transparency is another essential factor to consider when choosing a gold buyer to get high Cash For Gold. Look for buyers who provide clear and detailed information about their pricing policies, including how they calculate gold prices based on purity and weight. Avoid buyers who are vague or evasive about their pricing methods, as this may indicate dishonesty or unethical practices.

Furthermore, it's essential to compare offers from multiple buyers to ensure you receive a competitive price for your gold items. Obtain quotes from different buyers and carefully evaluate each offer based on factors such as price, reputation, and convenience. Keep in mind that the highest offer may not always be the best option if it comes from an untrustworthy buyer.

By choosing a reputable buyer who offers fair prices and transparent policies, you can sell your gold for cash with confidence and peace of mind.

Preparing Your Gold For Sale

Before selling your gold for cash, take steps to prepare your gold items for inspection and evaluation. Clean your gold jewelry or coins using a mild soap and water solution to remove dirt and debris. Store your gold items securely in a protective case or pouch to prevent damage during transportation.

Preparing your gold for sale is an essential step in the selling process that can help you maximize the value of your gold items and ensure a smooth transaction. Before presenting your gold items to potential buyers, take the time to clean and organize them to make a positive impression and facilitate the evaluation process.

Start by cleaning your gold jewelry or coins using a mild soap and water solution. Gently scrub the surface of your gold items with a soft-bristled brush to remove any dirt, oil, or tarnish that may have accumulated over time. Avoid using harsh chemicals or abrasive cleaners, as these can damage the finish of your gold and diminish its value.

Once your gold items are clean and dry, inspect them carefully for any signs of damage or wear. Look for scratches, dents, or missing stones that may affect the overall value of your gold. If necessary, consider having your gold items professionally repaired or restored to enhance their appearance and marketability.

After cleaning and inspecting your gold items, store them securely in a protective case or pouch to prevent damage during transportation. Avoid mixing your gold items with other jewelry or valuables, as this can increase the risk of loss or damage. Instead, keep your gold items separate and label them accordingly to ensure they remain safe and secure until they are ready to be sold.

By taking the time to prepare your gold for sale, you can present your items in the best possible condition and increase their appeal to potential buyers. Additionally, thorough preparation demonstrates your commitment to transparency and professionalism, which can help build trust and confidence with buyers during the selling process.

Negotiating The Sale

When selling your Gold For Cash, don't be afraid to negotiate with buyers to get the best possible price for your items. Be prepared to walk away if you're not satisfied with the offer and consider seeking quotes from other buyers to leverage your bargaining position.

Negotiating the sale of your gold is an essential aspect of the selling process that can significantly impact the outcome of the transaction. By approaching negotiations strategically and confidently, you can maximize the value of your gold items and secure a fair price for your investment.

One key strategy in negotiating the sale of your gold is to be well-informed about current market prices and the value of your gold items. Conduct thorough research and obtain quotes from multiple buyers to establish a baseline for comparison and gauge the competitiveness of each offer. Armed with this information, you can negotiate from a position of strength and confidently assert the value of your gold to potential buyers.

When negotiating with Jewelry Buyers, be prepared to advocate for your interests and articulate the reasons why your gold is worth a certain price. Highlight any unique features or attributes of your gold items that may increase their value, such as rare designs, historical significance, or exceptional craftsmanship. By showcasing the inherent value of your gold, you can justify your asking price and persuade buyers to offer a higher price for your items.

Additionally, don't be afraid to walk away from a negotiation if you're not satisfied with the offer. Remember that you have the right to sell your gold on your own terms and shouldn't feel pressured to accept an offer that doesn't meet your expectations. Consider seeking quotes from other buyers to leverage your bargaining position and explore alternative selling options if necessary.

Throughout the negotiation process, maintain professionalism and courtesy when interacting with buyers, even if negotiations become challenging or contentious. By fostering a positive and constructive dialogue, you can increase the likelihood of reaching a mutually beneficial agreement and completing the sale successfully.

In conclusion, negotiating the sale of your gold requires careful preparation, strategic planning, and assertive communication. By following these tips and approaching negotiations with confidence and professionalism, you can optimize the value of your gold items and secure a favorable outcome for your investment.

#Sell Gold #Gold Buyer #Gold Buyers #Cash For Gold #Gold For Cash #Jewelry Buyers

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