#feedback so welcome I cannot even emphasize how welcome
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another hazbin hotel rewrite/redesign?
yup! and i'm so serious about it that i made a whole blog for it. i'm a white queer ex-cath tran doing this as an art and writing exercise, so feedback from other creatives + jewish and/or racialized folks is especially welcome.
i'm putting this post and only this post in the main tags for visibility. also, not gonna link my main, but i do make my own original stuff, and i encourage fans and haters alike to do the same.
anyway, here's a mostly good-faith 1.7k-word essay on the original. i think it's pretty funny and brings up some less talked-about points. correct me on the facts, disagree with my opinions, and ask clarifying questions, but don't come at me with any piss-poor reading comprehension.
the hellaverse is garbage, and here's why
cw: strong language, stronger opinions, intersectional feminist critical discourse analysis
1. vivienne medrano, the person
medrano was born as a well-off white-passing latina (salvadoran-american) in bougieass frederick, maryland. while attending new york's top art school, she got popular on deviantart-tumblr-twitter by being a prolific multifandom fujoshi furry who's more into ornamental character design than storytelling. upon graduation, she leveraged her fanbase and industry connections to make the hazbin and helluva boss pilots, get helluva made for youtube, and get hazbin made for amazon prime.
like every woman online, she gets harassed for no good reason, and as a certified autist, i will defend her right to be dumb, weird, annoying, and bad with words. however, there are legit reasons to criticize her:
racism, misogyny, homophobia, fatphobia, some antisemitism, past transphobia, past ableism
shitty boss, bad friend
cowardly, vindictive, manipulative, thoughtless behavior
skeevy friends
sucks at taking criticism
in short, i think she desperately needs a PR person and someone to clean up her digital footprint.
2. medrano's art
incurious
inauthentic
noncommittal
creatively stagnant
overindulgent, and the indulgence isn't even fun
shallow and childish framed as complex and mature
bland and boring framed as shocking and subversive
to be clear, i'm at peace with the existence of suckass art like this; i just think the money, attention, and praise it gets are unearned and should go to more interesting works, of which there are infinite.
medrano's had the time, money, and social cache to grow as an artist, learn from the best, and take creative risks, but she hasn't. if she truly has nothing more to offer, she should let her collaborators take the wheel, but she doesn't do that either. instead, she keeps getting more and more resources to make the same baby bullshit, and that pisses me off. she could be the nicest person ever, and this fundamental arrogance would still make her art blow.
stop with the pointless guilt: liking medrano's work does not make you stupid or evil. however, if you stay in the kiddie pool of culture, if you refuse to engage with a diversity of art, if the hellaverse is your point of reference for anything media-related, you can't expect to have your opinions on art, media, or culture taken seriously. you have not earned a seat at the table. you gotta hit the books first.
i cannot emphasize enough how much incredible stuff is out there if you're willing to look further than what social media and streaming services put right in front of you. if you come away from this blog having learned about just one new artist or piece of art, i'll be a happy camper.
3. the hellaverse
a. empty and confused
hazbin and helluva's content and marketing has no clear target audience. the subjects are inappropiate for teens, but the execution is too childish for adults, and lemme tell you what i don't mean by that, first.
not inherently inappropriate for teens:
sex and sexuality
violence, including when it intersects with the above
politics and religion
not inherently childish:
animation (any style)
comedy
episodic writing and/or loose continuity
young characters
fun, happiness, optimism, the power of friendship, cuteness, tenderness, sincerity, etc.
what i mean is that these shows are literally about adult characters who fuck, smoke, drink, do drugs, go clubbing, work full-time, manage their own finances, and deal with stuff like bureaucracy, sexual violence, domestic abuse, marriage, divorce, late adoption, and family estrangement.
however, none of these "adult" things are given enough specificity to create drama or comedy. it's all too stock, vague, flat, weirdly sanitized, and thus utterly banal—pure aesthetics on top of bad saturday morning cartoons. it's exactly what i'd expect from a sheltered disney kid who needs to log off and get into their local gay scene ASAP so their only contact with things like poverty, policing, addiction, and sex work stops being facile movies and TV.
if the shows were aware of this and played with it, that could be amazing, but they're not. they give you the mickey mouse version of the world with a straight face and then play looney tunes sound effects to try to make you laugh and sad_violin.mp3 to try to make you cry. now that's funny.
b. old and tired
let's make like americans and pretend that the rest of the world doesn't exist. even within the confines of the USA, home of the hays code, the red scare, and reaganite propaganda, this neopuritan fascist state ruled by 1000 megachurches in a trenchcoat, the indie/underground animation scene has been doing crazier shit for decades. anti-war films in the 60's, bakshi movies in the 70's, the simpsons shorts and r-rated movies in the 80's, adult swim and MTV in the 90's, flash/newgrounds/youtube in the 00's, streaming in the 2010's—so what are we doing in the 2020's with this wet white rice drowned in expired ketchup? i feel crazy making this point because it's obvious if you've watched these things, but if you haven't, you're gonna be like "well, there's gotta be something new here". no! there isn't! in the words of jimmy "the scot" jordan, nothing, nothing, NOTHING!
c. ideological purgatory
actually, there is one thing in these shows i've never seen before: the presbysterianism. shout out some interesting or at least intentional presbysterian art in the comments, because the way these ideas are presented here is not compelling. it just makes the rainbow neoliberalism even more confusing and contradictory.
i guess the big presbysterian things are protestanism, calvinism, and, uh, big church government? presbysterians, get your shit together. get your brand down. catholics have BDSM and vampires, evangelicals have TV and corporatism; what do you have? celtic crosses? no wonder medrano has such uninspired ideas on divinity.
d. queer deficiency
when i look at a piece of art, i ask myself: "what does this give me that i can't get from the hunchback of notre dame (1996)?" if the answer is as limp as "uhh, gay people, i guess", i can probably look for my gay shit elsewhere and rewatch the hunchback of notre dame (1996) in the meantime.
but let's say that you have no standards. you've been waiting for ages for a show about gays by the gays for the gays, and by god you're gonna get it. this is it! here we go! time for some
generic twink obliteration
male sexuality as aggression and dominance displays
WLW (sex and chemistry not included)
a couple straight femdoms
and the stalest sex jokes known to man
...yeah, it's not very queer. and by "queer", i mean "questioning or subverting gender norms (including sexual roles) within a given cultural context regardless of creator identity and intent". i'm not a queer studies scholar so LMK if there's a more specific term for this, but whatever you call it, it's not in the hellaverse much.
there's not even any transness, literal or metaphorical, just ancient drag jokes. i guess the writers thought we would've been too controversial. so much for an indie animation studio that prides itself in the diversity of its staff both above and below the line, bakshi-style. i wonder how medrano, a bisexual woman, would've felt if told that a lesbian main couple in hazbin would be "too controversial".
4. spindlehorse and the vivziepop brand
spindlehorse toons underpays its overworked staff and keeps outsourcing more and more labor to even more overworked freelancers overseas to cut costs. a rainbow sweatshop is still a sweatshop, and just because these practices may be "industry standard" doesn't make them any more ethical.
the studio has also been repeatedly accused by current and former employees and contractors of creating a hostile and abusive workplace. AFAIK, it still has no dedicated HR person, and victims are too afraid of retaliation like blacklisting and online harassment to speak out.
this is exactly the stuff that unions exist to prevent. as i'm writing this, the IATSE (the parent union of TAG, which is the parent union of all US animation unions) is negotiating with entertainment industry executives for better working conditions, and if the execs fuck around like last year, it's strike time again. so watch this space, voice your support, and don't cross any picket lines.
i hope spindlehorse unionizes, but until then and for these reasons, i don't think you should give money to the company.
first of all, all content on amazon-owned platforms is ok to pirate, and all youtube ads are ok to block. everyone involved in making the episodes has (or should have) been paid upfront, so you're not taking the bread out of anyone's mouth.
next, let's look at the succulent offerings of the official vivziepop merch shop:
$10 pins and keychains
$15 sticker packs
$20 mugs and acrylic cutouts
$25 shirts
$30 metal cards (not even tarot)
$40 lounge pants
$50 mini backpacks
random $80 skateboard deck
forgive my latin americanness, but this is all stuff you can get made by a local metalsmith, print/sublimation shop, or just crafty people in your life. it's cheaper, customizable, and better for the environment to skip all the shipping and packaging. also, not painting your own skateboard is poser shit.
the hazbin website also has $15 pins, one $20 keychain, and $6 trading card packs. people are weird about trading cards, so if for some reason you wanna gamble for a mass-produced bit of cardboard, plastic, and tinfoil, at least bulk-order for all the vivziepoppers in your area so it's less of a huge waste. better yet, trace the designs and make infinite bootlegs.
at the end of the day, buying merch is not activism. your bulk order of trading cards will not save any wage slaves from getting evicted from their overpriced studio apartments. however, the shop links you to all the credited artists/designers, and more of your bucks will actually reach them if you buy their designs directly, then turn them into body pillows or life-sized bronze statues or whatever the fuck.
go through the credits of any episode of helluva or hazbin, and you'll find even more creatives you might wanna support. get jinkx monsoon's albums on CD. subscribe to actually good artist, animator, and composer gooseworx. lots of voice actors now have patreon, cameo, or self-hosted pages where you can write better lines for their characters and have them read it. these things may not look as shiny as Official Merch���, but we all need less plastic shit and more culture anyway.
#spindlehorse#vivziepop#hellaverse#hazbin hotel#helluva boss#spindlehorse critical#vivziepop critical#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#hazbin hotel rewrite#hazbin hotel redesign#helluva boss redesign#communism#degrowth
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Copikla
Summary: Crosshair hates you, Clone Force 99’s new on-board medic. He doesn’t understand how you can be so sweet, kind and happy all the time. His brothers seem to have taken you in as one of their own quite well, but he can’t seem to let his guard down around you. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll grow on him as well.
Pairing: Crosshair x Reader
Word count: 3,4k
Warnings: none, other than Crosshair being a major asshole sometimes
Notes: Okay, I loved writing this one! I really wanted to write a /Reader dynamic based on Pixie and Brutus (by @pet_foolery) and Crosshair instantly came to mind. I already have ideas for at least 2 more installments for this series, so I really hope you enjoy this (this is pre-Echo btw). Just on quick note, here’s the Mando’a translation for Cross’s nickname for the reader:
Copikla - charming, cute (babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off, but c’mon we all know Crosshair is a bastard)
I really hope you, dear reader, enjoy this and have fun while reading it. If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. I hope you truly enjoy this story.
Reader is female, but no physical descriptions provided
(Also, thank you so so much for the overwhelming support on all the other fics I posted here, it means the world to me!)
Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3
Crosshair couldn’t stand it.
It had been three standard months. Exactly 105 rotations since this nightmare started. He had been against it from the start, they had Tech, why would they need a kriffing medic in the first place?
Wrecker’s boisterous laughter, accompanied by softer, quieter giggles, reminded him exactly why.
A mission in Mon Gazza had gone terribly wrong (well, GAR high command considered it a success, as they had managed to secure their objective, but in the eyes of the members of Clone Force 99 it had been a total failure). In an attempt to locate and secure a target who had informed the Republic they possessed vital information on the inner command of Separatist forces, things had turned sour very quickly. A run in with the Pykes had thrown a wrench in their plans of making a quick escape, and a precarious explosion too close to Wrecker (not armed nor controlled by him this time around) had almost cost him his life.
Rushing him to the closest Republic medical base, a specialist had to be called in due to the severity of his injuries. The medic, they were later told, was the same one who had operated on Commander Wolffe of the 104th after his face-off against Asajj Ventress on Khorm. Back then, although she had not managed to save his eye, which had to be replaced by a cybernetic one instead, she did manage to recuperate just enough brain tissue around the area of the injury to save him from possible decommission (as if General Koon would ever let that happen). The head surgeon on base assured the Batch that Wrecker was on the best possible hands.
And, as it turned out, they had been right. Wrecker had woken up a few days after a soak in the bacta tank with no more than extensive scarring on the left side of his face, partial hearing loss and almost total eyesight loss in his left eye (“Nothing some tinkering with his helmet’s visor cannot fix.” Tech had said). All in all, he was as fine as one could be after such an event.
Even if the mission was a success and Wrecker was still alive (although a little uglier than before, according to Crosshair’s lighthearted teasing), their officials had decided they were too reckless (no matter how many times Hunter had emphasized on the mission’s report that the explosion was collateral and not at all Wrecker’s fault in this specific case) and should be accompanied by medical personal at all times, assigning them an on board medic. Commander Cody interceded in their favor, knowing they wouldn’t work well with a clone medic, and requested a natborn. In the end, the very same medic who had treated Wrecker had volunteered for the job.
That had been three months ago. You had adapted well to the life on board the Havoc Marauder. His brothers, the fools, had immediately been hooked on your charms, but not him. Oh, not him.
Crosshair hated you.
You were sweet, too sweet. Sweet enough to give him cavities. It wasn’t possible for someone to be that happy and cheerful and kind all the time. You were always smiling, you always indulged in Tech’s info-dumping. Always laughed at Wrecker’s awful jokes, always let him have your sweet flavored ration as a second desert. Always took over for Hunter when his senses were overwhelming him, helping him get comfortable in the safety of his bunk and dimming the lights.
And he wasn’t an exception. Even with all his bitter words and snarky comments, you were always nice to him. No matter how rude he was to you, you were always kind in return. You smiled in his direction in the morning. You kept him company while he was on watch duty. You were, he loathed to admit, a nice person overall.
But Crosshair didn’t believe in free-niceties. There was no way you were that sweet just out of the goodness of your heart. Surely there was something wrong about you, he just had to find out what.
Crosshair was cleaning his rifle for the umpteenth time that day and desperately trying to ignore the sweet timber of your voice as Tech taught you how to conduct minor repairs around the ship. It had been your idea, selfless as always, as in doing so you could help him around and reduce his workload if Tech was ever tired or injured after a mission.
Try as he might, Crosshair couldn’t ignore the endless seam of chatter coming from the two of you. Tech would go on long tangents about specific parts and their functions and you’d engage by asking questions and have him explain things further. It was enough for him to roll his eyes and grip the rag in his hand tighter.
As his mind drifted off to the mission they had just finished he almost didn’t realize that the ship had become silent. Thank the maker. He finally relaxed against the cold durasteel wall. That is until he heard footsteps approaching the crate he was currently sitting on.
“Hey Crosshair!” you greeted cheerfully, to which he sighed painfully.
You waited a few beats before addressing him again.
“So…” you smiled softly at him. Ugh.
“What?” he answered, contempt dripping from his tone.
“Tech and I are making a quick run to the local market. We’re all out of resistors and he doesn’t like to leave the stock empty.”
“I’m busy.”
“Oh.” for a moment you sounded just a tiny bit disappointed, and he thought would finally leave him alone, but no such luck “With what?”
Instead of answering, he simply looked from you to his Firepuncher and back to you, a frown on his face that clearly meant to ask if you were stupid or something.
“But…” you smiled awkwardly “You’ve been doing that for the past hour.”
“So?” he only kept on scrubbing his rifle, the rag no longer clean and rendered useless.
“Well, we thought you might want to come with us! You know, it’s sunny outside and that is such a rarity for us. I think it might do us all some good.”
“You thought wrong.” he spat.
“As a matter of fact,” Tech piped in from behind you, like he hadn’t been listening in to this whole conversation “it is scientifically proven that sunlight does help to stimulate the production of vitamin D. So this walk would, indeed, be beneficial for all of us, including you.”
“Come on, Cross! It’ll be fun!”
Something about the way you said his name, this little nickname you had given him, made something inside him snap.
“Haven’t you heard when I said I’m busy?!” he snapped, throwing the rag on the ground “I don’t want to go on a kriffing walk!”
You visibly deflated in response to his words, your smile falling from your face.
“I’m sorry, Crosshair.” you said, voice much quieter than before “We won’t bother you anymore.”
As you walked away, Crosshair tried to ignore the glare his brother was sending his way as he picked the rag from the floor and resumed his cleaning, even if the Firepuncher was glimmering and pristine.
Only when Tech was also out of reach did he allow the tension slip from his shoulders with a heavy sigh.
Great.
His head was killing him. He had a splitting headache from working in the snow all day, the light reflected by the white, glimmering floor of the planet they were currently stationed for a stakeout mission hurting his already sensitive vision. If this was how Hunter felt when his senses started overwhelming him then he actually pitied his brother and sergeant.
All he wanted was to take a sonic in the fresher and then crash on his bunk. But as he left the cockpit his nose picked up on something… different. As he sniffed the air around him he realized something smelled good around the ship.
Whatever it was, it had a sweet smell to it. It was sugary and soft and comfortable, almost like- he shuddered as he realized where his mind was taking him. Like you , his brain filled in for him against his wishes. The sweet scent in the ship reminded him of you.
He shook his head to rid himself of those horrendous thoughts and decided to investigate. Whatever was making this smell was something new, nothing like he ever experienced before, and he’d be damned if he didn’t find out what it was. As he walked further into the hull of the ship, he came to a halt as he came face to face with you, Wrecker and Gonky.
“Hey Crosshair!” Wrecker’s booming voice called out for him “Tech modified Gonky to work as an oven and Doc here is making cookies for us!”
He took a moment to notice your appearances. Both of you were wearing matching checkered aprons, albeit Wrecker’s was a lot more covered in flour than your own. Similarly, Gonky had a few specks of brown sugar all over itself.
“Cinnamon and chocolate chips! An authentic Alderaanian recipe.” you smiled at him, so sweetly he could bet if he were to take a bit out of you you’d taste just like those cookies “We’ve only just managed to fit one batch at a time inside of Gonky, the other one still needs kneading. Would you like to help?”
He sneered, almost offended, and started walking towards his bunk.
“I’d rather try taking an ackley in a fistfight.”
“Oh. Well, the first batch is almost ready, would you like one?” you asked, not at all unsettled by his harsh words.
“I’d rather eat shredded glass.” he answered with the most nonchalant shrug he could muster as he walked past you and into the bunk area.
Right as he was about to punch the controls and close the door, he heard the softest, quietest sniffle, followed by Wrecker’s voice, a lot quieter than it usually was, trying to console you.
“Don’t mind him, baar’ur’ika. He is like that with everyone. He’s just a grumpy, mean di’kut.”
As he finally closed the door, he couldn’t help the twinge of guilt growing in his chest.
“Let me take a look at that, Cross.”
Crosshair huffed, storming inside the Marauder, his blacks soaking underneath his glistening armor. The Batch hated missions in Donovia, its rainy nature often reminiscent of that in Kamino, an annoying reminder of the only thing they had to call home. There wasn’t a single mission there that didn’t leave them soaked to bone.
“Crosshair!” you stormed in after him.
“What is it, Copikla?” he sneered, turning back towards you.
Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, no matter how hard he tried to push you away, he came to terms with the fact that there was no other way than to embrace your presence instead of ignoring it all together. However, he decided to make his displeasure known to anyone who would listen, especially you. As one of his first deeds towards you, since you decided to grant him a nickname, he thought it was only fitting to give you one right back.
“Your shoulder is hurt. Let me take a look.”
Crosshair sighed, annoyed. During the mission, while he kept an eye on the scope to ensure his brothers didn’t get their shebs killed, a surveillance assassin droid managed to get a hit to his shoulder, the blaster bolt grazing his skin beneath his shoulderplates before you, who had been doing the lookout with him, got your own hit in, eliminating the droid. Great, he thought, now he was in your debt .
And since that very moment you’d been nagging his ear off about checking his injury.
“It was just a graze,” he dismissed “nothing to worry about.”
You huffed back at him, chest puffed in indignance.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” you waved the medkit, the one you always carried around, at him “Now take your armor off.”
He smirked, his mean grin full of mirth.
“If you wanted to see me naked, Copikla, all you had to do was ask.”
Your back straightened, stiffer than a board, as you pursed your lips. Gotcha. He could bet your cheeks were flaming, maybe even your neck and ears too. You were way too easy to toy with.
But something he didn’t expect was for you to laugh. Out of all the things he was expecting, hoping, you’d do giggling was not one of them.
“You’re all bark and no bite, right, Cross?” you chuckled, your eyes gleaming at him “Now come on, let me take a look.”
When he didn’t budge, it was your turn to sigh, so softly he almost didn’t hear.
“Please?”
He stood up, stalking towards you one step at a time, before leaning closer to you only slightly, looking you right in the eyes.
“If you want to, come and get me, Copikla.” his voice was dripping venom as he whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.
Or so he thought.
“Crosshair!” came Hunter’s booming, angry voice from the ship’s ramp. He was quickly followed by Tech and Wrecker, all three of them equally soaked as they finally caught up to the two of you.
Hunter stomped towards him, gripping his upper arm and practically ripping him away from you. As he turned to face his sergeant, he was greeted with the scowling faces of all three of his brothers.
“I know you didn’t ask for any of this, her being here, in the first place,” Hunter’s voice was low, his tone one Crosshair only heard when his brother was truly angry “but this has gone too far. She’s as much part of this squad as any of us. And you’ll treat her with the due respect.”
Crosshair’s shoulders tensed. How could his own brothers, his batchmates, disagree with him on this? Could they not see it? He huffed, vexed by this whole situation, and promptly left the ship towards the rainy outside.
After a long while (could have been minutes or hours, he couldn’t bring himself to care) of ruminating the past events, he honestly didn’t feel any better. He didn’t even like you, so why did he feel… bad? Guilty even?
As he fished inside his utility belt for a soggy toothpick to put between his lips, he heard the soft splatting sound of footsteps headed his way. He groaned, not in the mood for yet another one of Hunter’s scoldings, when the rain all of a sudden stopped pouring over his head. Looking up he noticed a rainbow-colored umbrella and, following the durasteel handle, he was surprised to find you holding it over both your heads.
“Hi.” you smiled at him, and he felt undeserving of it.
“What are you doing here?”
“Thought you might be lonely and in need of some company.”
He averted his eyes, gazing at the rain as your words settled over him.
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
“What?” you asked, genuinely confused.
“How come you are so nice to everyone? How are you so happy all the time?” he inquired.
It was your turn to look away from him, a small hum escaping your parted lips.
“It’s a conscient choice, you know?” you explained “At least in my case it is.”
He didn’t say anything, but if the slight tilt of his head in your direction was anything to go by, you knew you had his attention.
“I’ve seen what constant bitterness and rage does to a person.” you elaborated “When I was a child, my planet was raided by pirates. My parents, our village’s guides, tried sending a distress call to the Republic. But no answer came.”
He now turned fully towards you, intrigued. The first thing he noticed were your eyes. Your eyes, normally so lively and full of joy, were dull and glazed over, a misty sheen of tears covering them.
“They killed them. My parents and the other members of the village’s ruling council.” you took a deep breath, trying to stabilize yourself before continuing “My brother was almost an adult at the time. With everything that was happening, he became bitter, full of anger and hatred. He gathered a small group of teens, including me, and we managed to overthrow the pirates. But that wasn’t enough to quell the rage simmering inside of him.”
For a moment, Crosshair felt compelled to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder, but refrained from doing so, thinking the gesture wouldn’t be appreciated.
“The bitterness he felt towards the Republic for not helping us was festering in his heart. He was thirsty for vengeance, just waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then the war started.” you sniffled, laughing bitterly “He made a deal with the Separatists, practically sold us over to their nefarious plans. He was blinded by his bitterness, not realizing he was trusting the wrong people.”
Your frown, something so out-of-tune with your entire personality, suddenly turned into a sad smile.
“After his death at the hands of the Seppies, I realized I was following down the same path as him, constantly bitter and angry all the time. So I decided it was time for a change. I was already studying to become a pediatrician, so I thought ‘Maybe if I help in the war effort, this war will end quicker’. Maybe it’s stupid but…” you shrugged “I also promised myself I would let my anger consume me.”
Crosshair’s eyebrows rose to his forehead.
“But how do you never get angry?”
“Who says that I don’t?” you laughed quietly “I do, many times. I just- let myself feel it. All of it, for just one moment. Then I let it all go. And I think of all the things that make me happy. Like Wrecker’s hugs. Or Tech’s love for nature and science. Or Hunter’s calming presence. Or-” you smiled at him, so brightly it was almost infectious “or you.”
He felt like he was doused in cold water.
“I’m sorry,” he looked away again, head hanging in shame “for the way I’ve been treating you.”
“It’s alright, Cross-”
“No, it isn’t!” he snapped, then took a moment to calm down “It’s just-”
You smiled at him, a hand laying softly over one of his and squeezing his fingers encouragingly.
“As cadets, we never knew kindness.” he explained “The Kaminoans were cold by nature and didn’t really care about us to begin with. And the regs…”
“I know. Hunter told me about that.”
He sighed. He could bet Hunter didn’t tell you everything.
“They were mean to us. Especially Wrecker and Tech. But also to me and, less often, Hunter.” he laughed, somewhat bitterly “But they could be kind when they wanted to. When they wanted something from us. Or when they were up for a good laugh.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, worried.
“They would pretend to be our friends, apologize for the things they had said and done, only to stab us in the back.” he sighed “Let’s just say the regs are known for pulling the best pranks.”
You gasped softly and squeezed his fingers once again.
“Cross, that’s horrible!”
“You’re telling me.” he turned back towards you “And now-”
“You no longer allow yourself to trust anyone who shows you kindness without thinking they have hidden intentions?” you smiled knowingly.
His shoulders dropped as he looked at his feet. No matter how horrible he had been, you seemed to know him so well.
“Cross, look at me.” he glanced at you, he realized your eyes were soft and your smile, reassuring “I promise you, with all my heart, that all I want is for you, the four of you, to be happy.” you shook your head, a mirthful scowl on your face “Well, that and that you’re all healthy and uninjured.”
He grimaced, sheepishly.
“You’re one of a kind, Copikla.” he said, the nickname coming out not as a sneer, like previous times he used it, but more lighthearted, teasingly.
“Hunter also told me what that means.” you smirked at him.
Crosshair winced.
“Would you like me to stop?”
You pretended to think for a moment, even going as far as scratching your chin.
“Nah, I think it suits me. Don’t you think, Cross?”
For once since a long time, long before he started cadet training, he smiled, a full soft smile.
“Yeah, Copikla,” he agreed “I think it does.”
#crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x reader#crosshair x f!reader#tbb crosshair x f!reader#crosshair x fem!reader#the bad batch fanfiction#tbb crosshair#tbb crosshair fanfic
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A TOG fic inspired by that one post by @oldguardsaidthat
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“I wasn’t that drunk last night,” Joe insisted. The look on Booker’s and Nile’s faces told him that this was a lost battle, but he had to try.
“You were flirting with Nicky,” Andy retorted from the kitchen, noisily slurping a coffee. Joe quickly swallowed a bite of his scrambled eggs before turning over his shoulder.
“So? He’s my husband!”
“You asked him if he was single. Then cried when he said he wasn’t.”
As if on cue, Nicky walked out of their bedroom. His hair was still damp from the shower, poking out from beneath the hood of a large, comfy pullover.
“That’s my hoodie,” Joe and Nile said at the same time. Joe turned to glare at her.
“It’s a men’s hoodie, Nile. Booker got it for me.”
“No, it’s a unisex one from Costco and it was in the bag of shopping with my name on it. Right, Book?”
Booker looked back and forth between them, trying to decide who he wanted to get into a fight with less. He sighed. “It’s clearly Nicky’s.”
Nicky grinned, pausing next to the table to scoop more breakfast potatoes onto Booker’s plate. “You tell them, Booker.” He went into the kitchen to join Andy by the coffee bar. “What were you saying, boss? Who was crying?”
“Your husband. Last night.”
Nicky laughed out loud. Joe tried really, really hard to be mad.
“He remembered nothing this morning, if you’ll believe it. I didn’t even know we could get hangovers that bad.”
“Yeah, well. You know how he gets. He missed you.”
Andy’s voice had softened, and Joe could almost see the look of fondness that was no doubt settling itself across Nicky’s face. He decided to lighten the moment by stomping into the kitchen and angrily washing his plate.
“I’m right here, you know! I can hear you.”
Andy smirked a little evilly. “Don’t you want to know what happened last night, Joe?”
“No.”
Booker walked in with his and Nile’s plates, sliding them into the soapy water and shrinking back when Joe gently waved off his offer to help. Nile hopped up onto a stool on the other side of the counter. She leaned forward excitedly.
“Are you sure? Because it’s a good story. We’d love to tell it.”
“Of course you would,” Joe muttered with ire that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’d all jump to speak of my humiliation, wouldn’t you?”
“Of your all-encompassing love, hayati.” Nicky set his cup down and stepped next to him, pressing against his hip and shoulder as he reached for a dish cloth to start drying. “Of your sweetness. Your utter sincerity. Which of these sounds even remotely like humiliation?”
“Bold words for someone who refuses to delete the video of me slipping in the rain and landing butt-first in a puddle of mud.”
“It was funny, Joe!”
“You showed Nile,” he grumbled, but he felt his lips quirk up in a smile despite himself.
“She is part of our family now, is she not?”
“Of course. Which is why I’m taking her to the art history museum in Malta next time we all visit. The human anatomy exhibit, specifically.”
Nicky turned a lovely shade of pink and made a point of shaking the next wet dish directly over Joe’s head.
“What’s in the human anatomy exhibit?” Nile perked up. Joe opened his mouth to speak, but Nicky quickly cut in.
“Andy! Why don’t you tell Joe how he managed to get wasted before Booker and I even showed up last night?”
___
Andy slapped $200 onto the table. Nile raised a judgmental eyebrow as she chewed on a piece of fried chicken.
“Andy. I’m 27. I don’t have $200 lying around to throw in on a bet.”
“That’s fine. Put in how much ever you want. Winner takes all. Joe, you want in?”
Joe looked up from where his head had been resting against his hands on the table. “I refuse,” he began indignantly, “to go around flirting with people just to get their numbers. It’s unethical. What if you break someone’s heart?”
Andy rolled her eyes. “No one’s gonna lose their heart to someone they met a few minutes ago at a club. Most of the numbers are fake, anyway. It’s just for fun.”
“Nicky’s not here.”
“Booker texted me. They’re delayed because Copley told them to stop by the bank and withdraw some cash. He’s going on vacation and wants us to stay under the radar for a few days.”
Joe shook his head. “You two play. I think I’m going to sit at the bar and drink for a bit.”
“Suit yourself. Nile, come on.”
___
“Wait, wait, wait,” Nile interjected. “Let me tell this next part, ‘cuz you’ll tell it wrong.”
“Look, the fact that you had three more numbers when Nicky and Booker arrived is immaterial. If we’d continued the game like we were supposed to, I’d have won.”
“You’re a sore loser, Andy.”
“Hey, I paid you, didn’t I?”
The group made their way back to the dining table. Nicky sat back and ran a hand through his hair exasperatedly.
“Madre de dio, you guys. I’ll tell it.”
___
Nicky and Booker walked into the club, quickly locating Andy as she chatted with another woman animatedly.
“Andy!”
Andy looked up and smiled, extracting herself effortlessly from the conversation.
“Finally. The bank give you any trouble?”
“Tried to,” Nicky answered, “but nothing a quick call to Copley didn’t fix.”
“Where’s Nile and Joe?” Booker asked. “We should go home.”
“Oh? No drinks tonight, Book?”
“We have better alcohol in the kitchen cabinet.”
“That’s true. Nile should be around here somewhere, shoot her a text. Nicky and I’ll go find Joe.”
“Bet.”
They walked toward the bar and spotted Joe scooting what was obviously the latest of several $10 bills at a bartender. She spared him a concerned glance over her shoulder as she poured him another drink. Joe gulped it down in a matter of seconds.
Nicky shook his head despairingly. “This insane man.”
“He was missing you.”
“That’s no reason to drink the bar dry!”
“The alcohol can’t hurt him, Nicky.”
“I know, I know. Give me a couple minutes, I’ll get him.”
Nicky walked up and slid onto the stool next to Joe, leaning forward to ask the bartender for a glass of water. He turned to his husband. Before he could say anything, Joe glanced at him out of the corner of his eye and whispered,
“Beautiful company tonight.”
Nicky froze. Was his husband hitting on him?
Joe winked.
Nicky’s jaw dropped. He was going to slap this man. He didn’t even want to know how much alcohol it took for an immortal to get this much out of their own mind.
“Are you single?” Joe’s words cut through his thoughts. Nicky looked at his wide, sparkling brown eyes, alive and surprisingly alert compared to a few moments ago. Joe kept his hands to himself, but leaned forward almost unconsciously, as if taking comfort in breathing the air around Nicky. His voice and body were a study in longing.
“No,” Nicky replied honestly. He held up his left hand. “I’m married.”
For a minute, neither of them spoke. Then Joe turned back to the bar and rested his chin on his hands, looking away.
“Oh,” he said in a tiny voice.
Nicolo rested a hand on the back of his neck and brought the glass of water to his lips. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel better.”
As he returned the glass, Nicky heard Joe give a small sniffle. Then another. He whipped around just in time to see a large, unhappy tear trickle down his beloved’s face.
Nicky’s heart abruptly broke.
“Hayati,” he breathed, surging forward to take Joe’s face in his hands. “Joe, look at me, my love. Please.”
“I’m not, though. Your love.” Joe hiccupped sadly. “You’re already married.”
“To you, you absolute fool. Here, I’ll show you. See?” Nicky held up his husband’s hand, clinking their matching rings together. “You’re my husband, Yusuf. The love of my every life.”
Joe looked at their joined hands disbelievingly. “I’m… yours?”
“Yes. Of course. And I’m yours. For as long as you want.”
“Promise?”
If Nicky had to endure one more second of doubt in those wide, teary eyes, he would explode. So he leaned forward and captured Joe’s lips with his, trying to pour 900 years of tenderness and devotion into the kiss.
“Nicky!”
Nicky pulled back just far enough to shout a quick, “Yes, boss?” over his shoulder. Not that Joe found even that small distance acceptable, with the way he clung to Nicky’s neck.
“Get your ass in the car. Joe’s, too. You two can continue there. The rest of us want to go home.”
“I call shotgun!” Booker yelled.
“Oh, that’s not fair at all,” Nile grumbled. “Andy, can I drive?”
“No.”
___
Joe buried his face in his palms and groaned, a blush creeping up his neck as the others laughed. “Please tell me I at least behaved on the drive back.”
“If you call whispering ‘ti amo’ repeatedly until you fell asleep in Nicky’s lap behaving, then sure.”
The others burst out laughing at Nile’s retort, and Joe flushed even deeper.
“Hey, it could have been worse,” Andy smirked.
“Anyway,” Joe interjected. “I guess I owe you all an apology.”
Every single one of them opened their mouths to assure him that no such thing was necessary, but Andy got there first.
“For what? Being an absolutely precious human being? Never.”
#the old guard#joe x nicky#kaysanova#the whole found family gang#fanfiction#tog fanfic#kavi writes#feedback so welcome I cannot even emphasize how welcome#it's been a wild week#I just needed to get out of my head for a bit#so I wrote fluff!#10/10 lots of fun will probably write fluff again
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FAQs:
I’m Tim, she/they. I’m Sprx77 on ao3 and my writing website (where you can find excerpts, stories, and art/banners associated with my fics) is timothywren.com. You can buy me a coffee here, if you want to.
Any fic of mine that is still up on ao3 and not tagged “Abandoned and Discontinued” is still being worked on-- yes, even that one posted ten years ago.
I write for anime fandoms, books, and most recently c-novels/dramas. The specifics can be found on ao3 or my site.
Recently, I’ve stopped posting WIPs to ao3 because the constant asking for more is exhausting, so I’m trying to only post finished fics. If you’re reading an older WIP before I implemented this policy-- yes, it will be finished eventually; no, asking for more does not help.
Feel free to check out the site, I’m really proud of it! It tends to have fics sooner than ao3 does, solely because I love the way it looks to post there and I feel a lot less pressure in my own space. Eventually everything I post will be posted on ao3 as well-- I will never leave the platform.
Comments are welcome, concrit is not! I cannot emphasize enough how I’m not putting up with unsolicited beta/spellcheck/feedback on how you think my fic should go. Otherwise, if you just want to say something nice, feel free!
Prompts/challenges can be found on the HMU tag here (”hit me up”) and any prompts submitted are very much “let’s see if this knocks something fun loose in Tim’s brain”; never an actual guarantee that I’ll fill the prompt.
I have a multi-fandom discord server that is incredibly chaotic but fun, and we have lots of animal/cat pics. Links are on my sidebar and on the aforementioned, very sexy and shiny, website.
My latest fics on ao3: [Recent Works]
My latest fics on my site, with pretty banners: [Latest Posts]
Lately, I’ve been making sketchbooks and bookbinding, and you can find more info about that on my sideblog, Flower Mountain Press. It also has an associated Patreon if you’d like to support (with various benefits such as getting mailed gifts, discounts on purchases, etc)!
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Paint It White // Liu Yangyang
Day three of my Kinktober // NCT 2020 Project
DAY 3: Yangyang + mirror sex → “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”
Word count: 1.7k || Genre: smut
Warnings: femdom, mirror sex, semi public sex, edging, brat taming, punishment, begging, restraints, hair pulling, finger sucking, cum eating
This work is completely fictional. Feedback is welcome. Hate will be blocked. Thank you!
(credit x)
Note to self, thank Taemin.
If Yangyang was honest, he would realize how this was all his fault. He wouldn't have tried to play with your thigh and get you hot and bothered while you were eating lunch with the WayV boys. He wouldn't have sent you those dirty texts, trying to get a rise from you while you were watching a movie in the dorm with everyone. He would've listened to you when you told him to stop trying to grind into you while you were in the crowded SM elevator. And he definitely wouldn't have grabbed your ass when he thought he saw a staff member looking at you.
He knew that you were getting irritated at his actions, but that's what he was counting on. He was looking for you to finally break, so when you snapped and dragged him into the empty practice room, locking the door behind you and looking at him with fire in your eyes, he couldn't stop the thrill that coursed straight through him.
It was all Yangyang's fault, and he loved it.
He thought he had everything figured out, but he wasn't expecting you to do this. You had managed to take a quick look at the schedule posted outside the practice rooms before choosing this one, specifically for the fact that Taemin had been the last one to use it. You went straight for the ties he'd been using for his Criminal promotions as soon as the door was locked, and you felt the way arousal coursed through you as you saw the wide eyed look he gave you.
And that's how Yangyang ended up here, clothes long gone and forced onto his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He's set up right in front of the mirror as you play with him, embarrassment shooting through him as you force him to watch himself.
He can't control his moans, desperate to be able to reach out and pull your bra and panties off so that he can see you better, and so that he wasn't the only one fully exposed like this. But he can't. All he can do is moan and shake and become all consumed by the way you're stroking him.
It's so much and not enough at the same time, the way you jerk him off fast just to slow down the instant he starts to get close. It's maddening, and he can't help but buck into your touch, hoping that maybe he can prevent you from depriving him of yet another high.
You notice the way that he can't seem to catch his breath, gulping on air as he silently prays that you'll have mercy on him.
You won't.
"Ready to give in yet?" You ask, not slowing down your movements as you build him up to another high he won't get to release.
He shakes his head rapidly, and his wise crack is cut off by a moan as you give him a couple extra hard pumps for that. When he finally composes himself enough to speak, his voice comes out ragged and broken.
"Go to hell."
You lean close, pulling on his bound wrists so he falls back into your chest a bit. You move your grip down to allow him to grab your hand between his fingers, and he holds onto it for dear life. It's a tender moment between your otherwise devastating actions, and it makes him feel safe, despite being vulnerable to you in the most intimate way possible.
When you speak, it's directly into his ear, ghosting along the shell and making his entire body shiver with the sweet tone of your voice saying something so sinful.
"Baby, you're already in hell."
He groans at your words, and at the way you just keep touching him. He's getting so close, and if would only keep going, maybe he can get there.
"You know," you tell him, starting to slow down as you notice the signs of his high. "This practice room is free the rest of the day, and the door's locked. I could do this forever."
You slow your hand almost completely, giving him hard and deliberate strokes to emphasize your point. He groans, frustration boiling over as he slumps forward. His head rests on the mirror, with his sweaty and too long hair hanging in his eyes. He can't get enough air, gasping and fogging up the mirror with his lust filled exhales. The sight is extremely erotic, and you can't stop the rush of arousal that courses through you.
It makes you want to wreck him even more.
You move your hand away from his wrists, bringing it up to tangle into his hair. You give his hair a tug, pulling his head up to stare right in his own eyes as he gasps from the pain. He cries out as he sees his frame in the reflection, with his disheveled hair and sweaty body and wild eyes and his dick that's so, so hard. His mouth hangs open, letting out loud, broken moans as your hand increases its pace again, building him up to yet another high he won't experience. His sounds echo off the walls of the dance studio, and you lean in so your chin rests on his shoulder.
“You’d better be quiet, Yangyang. Or everyone’s going to know what a naughty, little slut you are.”
He bites his lip hard as he whimpers, trying desperately to muffle his moans as your words send a shiver through him. But he's not able to hold his sounds back for long as he starts to get overwhelmed again.
"Shit, shit, shit," he sobs as he feels the pleasure start to overtake him again. You plant soft kisses onto the back of his shoulder as he shakes under you.
"Is there something you wanna say?" You ask, smirking against his skin as you feel him nod hard above you.
"Yes, yes, yes. Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
You grin widens, and you give him a little nip on his back that makes his entire body jump. But when you start to slow your hand again, he panics.
"What? Why? I said sorry. Why? Please?"
"What are you sorry for, baby?"
He groans, beyond frustrated as you slow your movements to allow him enough clarity of mind to answer your question. He tries to drop his head and tear his eyes away from his own reflection, but your grip on his hair stops him, only serving to intensify his arousal with the way it causes his scalp to sting.
"Well?" You ask him.
"Uh," he starts. "I'm sorry for being a brat, and I'm sorry for not listening, and I'm sorry for taking $10 from you without asking first, but just please."
He's babbling at this point, and you're not even sure if he's aware of all the words coming out of his mouth. You chuckle, satisfied with his answer as you move to place a kiss on his temple.
"There you go, baby. That wasn't so hard."
You increase the speed of your pumps again, and he lets out a hiss that turns into a high pitched whimper as the pleasure starts to overtake him for what feels like the umpteenth time. You see the way his eyes look around frantically, not sure whether he should look at the way your hand is pumping him or the way you're looking at him with pure lust burning in your eyes or watch the way he's falling apart. The sight just makes everything so much more intense, and he can't fathom how has hasn't exploded yet, and decides that it's solely because you just know his body too, too well. His breathing picks up as moans fall involuntarily from his lips, echoing through the empty walls of the dance studio.
"You can let go now," you tell him, moving your hand from his hair to firmly grip his jaw and loving the way his eyes all but roll into the back of his head at your words. "Go ahead and paint the mirror white with your cum."
He orgasms with a shout, shaking and trembling through his orgasm as the hot white spurts of his release shoot onto the glass and your hand. It feels like it goes on forever for him, wave after wave of earth shattering pleasure after being kept on edge and denied for so long. He collapses into your body when he's finally done, resting his body weight on you as he kisses your neck. You bring your hand down to his tied ones again, allowing him to hold your clean hand in his as he comes back down to Earth.
"You okay?" You ask him, and your heart melts when he flashes you that thousand watt smile of his.
"More than okay," he replies. He's sleepy, but you can hear the tinge of satisfaction in his voice.
You reach forward, swiping your already dirty hand through the mess he made on the mirror. He starts to say something that you're sure is probably smug and will get him into trouble again, but you don't give him the chance, sticking your stained fingers into his pretty mouth.
He's a bit taken aback at the action, but obeys immediately, sucking around your fingers and humming contently to himself.
"By the way, I knew it was you that took that $10. I cannot believe you framed Hendery for it."
He laughs around your fingers, and you laugh too, placing a small kiss onto his nose as you do. When you take your fingers out of his mouth, you wrap your arms around him, gently guiding him to lay down with his arms still bound behind him. He sits up on his elbows, watching you curiously as you reach around to unclip your bra and pull your underwear off your body. You straddle his, but not before collecting more of his release onto your fingers for him to suck off. He groans around your fingers, and looks up at you with lust filled, obedient eyes.
"Now, we have this room for a couple more hours. So now it's your turn to make me feel good."
Tagging @mingishoe @armysantiny @domreaderrecs @chickenkatxu @lucas-wongs @drippinlovetalk @brooklynalpha @wildernessuntothemselves @loviejaehyun @skzctnightnight @capriccio-con-espressione @euphoricsunflowers @nct-writers as requested! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for future fics!
Read all of my fics HERE!
#nct-writers#neothestars#kpopuniversenet#subidolnet#yangyang#liu yangyang#sub!yangyang#dom!reader#sub!nct#sub!wayv#nct#wayv#nct 2020#nct 2020 smut#wayv smut#nct smut#yangyang smut#liu yangyang smut#sub!yangyang smut#sub!kpop#sub!idol#kinktober 2020
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Beautiful Pain (6)
Chapter Six- Growing Pains
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader
Summary: Post-Blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the Blip.
Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.
That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-Blip world.
Chapter synopsis: Arriving in Latvia, you find your group closing into Karli’s group. You found yourself unexpectedly in upsetting exchanges with Bucky, making you take two steps back from the progress you two had since Madripoor.
Warnings: Angst as I like it! Bucky being a dense block of wood.
Word count: 4k
Notes: It’s insane the number of followers I have gained after starting this series. I am very humbled to know that you guys take interest in my work! Appreciate all the likes and reblogs! 🙏🏼
Hope y’all would enjoy this chapter! Things cannot be forever smooth sailing and we see a roadblock to Bucky and reader’s progress. I would love to know your feedback on the story so leave a comment if you can! 🥰
The tag list is still open! Let me know if you want to join with a message or comment in the chapters!
Previous: Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five
Next: Chapter Seven
-------------------------//---------------------------
Six years ago
The embers from the fire glowed warmly in front of you, a finger daringly reached out to touch the flames. The energy flames emitted from the tip of your finger and blended into the fire.
Turning your head back to Bucky and Ayo, you saw how Bucky was anxious and had a doubtful expression on his face. It had been a week since the programming has been removed from his system.
While he was still reassured that the worst was over, he had a lot of reservations. Having you by his side was the only source of comfort that he could through these hard times.
“I won’t let you hurt anyone,” Ayo spoke to relieved Bucky of his concerns. You flashed an encouraging smile back to him and Bucky nodded at Ayo for her to start.
As Ayo started saying the code words, you could see Bucky’s entire body tensing up as if he wanted to resist the possibility of being turned. Holding in your breath at the entire situation, you clasped your hands together in prayer, wishing that things would turn out well.
Every time each word was said, it built up hope and anxiety at the same time. You could see the dread, regret and guilt all from his eyes alone as Bucky stared intensely at the burning fire. It seemed his mind was heavy on a lot of memories and recollections that seemed to eat him away.
You wanted to take a step forward but Ayo shook her head, silently asking you to stay put.
As the number of codewords was closing into zero, your anticipation grew at how Bucky was doing well. However, your heart started breaking when you saw the tears welling up in his eyes.
Once the last code word was spoken, Bucky was sobbing. Seeing this sight, your own tears started to fall down your cheeks as you brought your clasped hands over your heart.
“You are free,” Ayo stated with a pleased smile and she looked over to you to give you a nod. Grinning a full wide smile at her, you looked down to Bucky shaking by the fire. You wondered what was wrong until he removed his clenched fist from his face. It was when he turned to face you that you both mirrored the full-blown smiles on your faces.
-------------------------//---------------------------
Stretching your limbs on the plush couch, your eyes closed wearily from the flight to Latvia. You still couldn’t process the entire series of events that had happened in the past 72 hours and your mind was mentally drained.
Hearing the door open, you lifted your head to finally see Bucky joining everyone in Zemo’s fancy place. Bucky’s eyes turned to yours and the two of you stared at each other silently for what felt like an eternity.
You first broke the stare by blinking and bit your lips in nervousness. Your mind immediately went back to what happened in Sharon’s club and you turned your back to avoid looking at him for the time being.
Bucky was thinking of the same thing and tried his best to maintain a cool façade. Seeing how you turned your back on the sofa, he felt it was best to move on to business with the others first.
“Well, the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo.” Bucky spoke to Sam before looking at an unbothered Zemo who was fresh out of the shower in his robes.
Bucky’s words managed to get you to turn back and sit up at attention.
“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.” You see Zemo looking grateful at Bucky but the super-soldier just rolled his eyes.
“Hey, you shut it. No one’s defending you.” Sam shut Zemo down as he couldn’t believe how thick-skinned the Sokovian man was. “You killed Nagel.”
Zemo tried to defend his stance while Sam definitely wasn’t buying it. You couldn’t say it out loud lest you get a look from Sam but you were glad Zemo did it. Who knows if there would be a day where you would be handed off to Nagel and he got his hands on you to do whatever he wanted?
You shuddered at the thought and as if Zemo knew what was on your mind, you see the Baron turning back to give you a wink and mouthing a ‘welcome’. Your nose scrunched in distaste, not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of him being right.
“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot,” Bucky spoke up again after looking up from his phone. Sam asked for the amount of damage to which Bucky answered that eleven were injured and three were dead.
This was getting serious. Especially when you heard Bucky saying that the Flag Smashers were promising more attacks if their demands were not met. You suddenly felt a renewed sense of responsibility and purpose to help the world once more after the last battle.
Even though you were tired of fighting, you knew that bearing the powers that you had gave you the responsibility to take action for the greater good.
Zemo then remarked that he had the will to follow through with this mission but questioned you and your friends.
“She’s just a kid,” Sam emphasized, showing his empathetic and kind heart who chose to see the good in others first. It reminded you so much of Steve and you smiled at the resemblance.
Zemo didn’t agree with Sam’s opinion and explained how Karli was a supremacist. The very idea of super-soldiers was troubling, how they viewed themselves as invincible and above others. Zemo compared it to the Nazi ideology, how it led to Ultron and the Avengers.
His last point rubbed you the wrong way because you knew your friends were never focused on themselves but rather dedicated time, effort and their lives for the world.
Sam understood that Karli had indeed been radicalised but still argued for a better way to manage the situation, one that he hoped would be peaceful and led to lesser bloodshed.
“I agree with Sam.” You spoke up for the first time. All three men focused on you as you lifted yourself from the sofa and walked towards them. “She’s not doing this for power or money, she’s doing this to help her community and the vulnerable. The least we could do is to try to talk to her first.”
Zemo tilted his head with an annoyed look, seeing how you backed Sam up in this debate.
“Y/N. The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She would not stop, in fact, she will escalate unless you kill her.”
You knew that there were part truths in Zemo’s words. You kept quiet and he looked at you pleased that he probably has gotten through you in some sense.
“Or you can kill her first.” With this, Zemo stared straight at you as if he decided to give you this responsibility, knowing that you were the likeliest to overpower Karli when the time comes.
“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve.” Speaking from behind you, Bucky refuted Zemo’s claims but Zemo seemed unaffected. He even added on that there was no other Steve Rogers. Who were you guys to presume not everyone could get corrupted once they had a taste of power?
Having enough of Zemo, Bucky suggested handing Zemo over to the Wakandans right at this moment and you wanted to agree. You were indebted to them and with their late king’s murderer right in front of you, a sense of guilt washed over you as you must have realized how livid they must be that he was walking free.
Sam then explained how Donya was an influential member of the community and related it to his own story of his TT aka his aunt. When someone who was a pillar in a close-knitted community had passed, people would gather to hold a long ceremony in memory of that person. He presumed that the same would be done for Donya and that’s where you all should lead with.
-------------------------//---------------------------
The four of you decided to venture to the streets to ask for information on Donya. As Zemo and Sam went their own ways, Bucky looked over you as if to ask if you wanted to join him.
“Uh, I-uh-I” You started stuttering without realising. Bucky knitted his brows in confusion at your sudden display and he immediately thought of your almost moment. Did you not want it? Did he overstep?
Inwardly groaning, he couldn’t believe he did something so stupid in the heat of the moment. Deciding to do something about it, he spoke up.
“Hey. About earlier-” Glancing up at Bucky, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to find the words to say.
“Earlier?” You weren’t sure what he was referring to and returned a quizzical look. Taking a deep breath before exhaling, Bucky tried to continue the conversation.
“I mean back in Madripoor. You know that uh-” Your eyes widened realised at the particular event that he chose to bring up. Your heart quickened at how he was choosing to address it now and you stared at him expectantly. “Yeah?”
“It was stupid, all right? I didn’t think and it was all at the moment, I didn’t mean to went in like that-” Blinking your eyes as if you couldn’t process what Bucky had just said, your heart dropped at the realisation that everything turned out to be one-sided wishful thinking of yours.
In his attempt to piece his words together and play it down, Bucky didn’t realise the disappointment painted on your face and how you stopped the tears that welled up in your eyes from falling.
You felt so stupid. There was no way that Bucky would have taken interest in you. All this time, you were nothing more than friends. You didn’t doubt that that moment in Madripoor with its atmosphere could have clouded both of your senses.
“It’s okay, Buck. I totally understand.” You spoke up to prevent him from continuing to dishearten you.
“I’m cool. We were swept up in the music and the dancing- it’s natural to uh-do that.” You were starting to choke up at your words but forced yourself to swallow down the knot in your throat.
Pulling your lips into a tight grin and forcing yourself to meet Bucky’s eyes, you saw him puzzled and expectant of your next response.
“I am going to go that way.” Mustering up a cheerful voice to make it sound like you were fine, you pointed over to a random street. “We should split up and cover more ground. Bye!” Giving a quick wave to him, you hurriedly turn your back and almost broke into a sprint to get as far away from him as possible.
Bucky knew that from your reaction he must have done something wrong. He just wasn’t sure what he did. Scolding himself for being such an idiot, he looked back to where he last saw you before you turned the corner.
Bucky’s hands and jaw both clenched with tension at how things had been with you just moments ago before allowing himself to be distracted with the mission. He made a mental note that he had to catch you later and have another talk.
-------------------------//---------------------------
You were a woman with a purpose and that was to find out more about Donya Madani. You realised after the first few queries, people here were wary once you mentioned the woman’s name.
Cracking your brain to think of a strategy, your eyes roamed around the neighbourhood for some sort of idea. A familiar back caught your attention and your eyes widened in shock at who you had spotted.
The man back from the fight on the truck was here. That means Karli and her group were here too! You didn’t have the chance to see the man’s face as he had a mask on back then but you recognised him instantly.
He was alone and that gave you a good chance to corner him. You blended in with the crowd while closing in on him with every step. As he turned the corner to an alley, you quickened your steps in fear that you might be losing him.
Once you stepped foot into the alley, you were shocked to see there it was clear and empty. Running your fingers through your hair in a stressful moment, you wondered how he could have disappeared without a trace. Venturing further down the alley, you hoped that you might be able to catch sight of him once more.
Your body reacted a second later than your intuition when you felt someone grabbed you from behind, the hands covering your mouth to prevent you from screaming.
The person switched hands and used their strength to push you against the brick walls. Feeling the wind knocked out of your chest, you took quick hurried breaths to regain yourself and that’s when your eyes looked up to meet the dark eyes of the man that you had been following.
His eyes mirrored yours as they widened at the recognition of who you were and he then spoke. “How did you follow us? Where are the rest of your friends?”
Clawing at his hands to free your face, your hands started glowing a bright orange to get him to release you. The man was taken aback at the display of your powers and decided to make a run for it, knowing that you would have the upper hand eventually.
“No wait, please!” You cried for him to stop. The man’s steps slowed down at your plea and he turned back slightly to face you. You raised your hands up in surrender to show you meant no harm.
You willingly put your hands behind you, clasping them together and showing them to him.
“I just want to talk.” You continued saying. Sensing the man’s hesitation, you then emphasized please desperately. Taking a few steps closer, you still left a gap between the two of you.
“I am Y/N.” Hoping that introducing yourself showed that you were interested to get to know him, you looked on anxiously for his response.
“Dovich.” The man replied curtly before staring back at you. Repeating his name once more in your mouth, you showed off a friendly smile before resuming.
“I know what you must be thinking, but please I do not mean any harm.” You hoped that the sincerity in your voice would get his guard down but seeing Dovich squaring his shoulders to look more intimidating, you knew that he couldn’t trust you yet.
“Lies!” Dovich refuted your claims.
“What happened back there was self-defence!” He must have thought about how you were about to use your powers just moments ago. “Trust me, if I wanted to do any damage, I would be able to but I didn’t.”
Seeing how you were still standing there with your arms behind your back, Dovich’s stance seemed to ease up a little. “What do you want?”
“We- my friends and I want to talk to Karli.” You knew your words only served to upset him once more as his face distorted into a frown.
“We really want things to work out! We don’t ever want things to escalate, it is never in my interest to kill anyone.” Dovich glanced over you to see an earnest expression on your face and he couldn’t help but be a little swayed.
He knew who you were. You were less well-known but still regarded as part of the Avengers team. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t intimidated. He recalled how you fought his group back then and knew that given your powers, there was a chance to be bested even if he had taken the serum.
Dovich still clearly remembered how you pulled him up when he was about to fall off the moving truck from before. Your actions at that moment had changed his impression of you, regarding you in a better light. It matched what you had just said earlier, you weren’t interested to kill anyone.
“Karli wouldn’t listen. She is determined and resolute in our vision.” Dovich hoped you understood his perspective and you nodded in acknowledgement.
“I know but that doesn’t mean we don’t want to try settling this peacefully. We don’t want more lives gone than it already had.” You added on to your own perspective in the matter. Dovich believed you but he still wasn’t sure. He couldn’t be so easy to trust especially of all of the experiences that he and his group went through.
You were still considered a threat to the existence of the group.
“I don’t trust your group. Especially that Zemo guy. We know he hates super soldiers.” Dovich reiterated his mistrust before continuing. “Plus you guys are the Avengers, you wouldn’t know what it is like to be us. You get to live comfortable lives and do as you please.”
Hearing his assumption, you shook your head in disagreement. You closed your eyes and exhaled deeply before speaking.
“The Avengers aren’t really there anymore. Most of our group are gone. We are only what’s left but it doesn’t feel like there’s a team anymore.” Your mind to your current situation. Yes, you were with Sam and Bucky but they were just tolerating each other for the moment. You didn’t exactly feel like you were a team at all but just a group put together because you were all that’s left.
The sense of camaraderie from your previous team was gone and you were at a loss. You did what you had to do to support your two friends but you felt empty on the inside. You titled your head up to see Dovich peering at you with an almost concerned look on his face.
“Besides, that’s a bit of a generalisation you have there. We don’t live fancy lives, that’s a misconception because of uh-Tony. We all are still normal human beings dealing with struggles in our personal lives too. We gave up most of ourselves to defend this world….” Reeling from the exchange that you two had, you knew Dovich was someone that could be reasoned with.
“Of course, I am not trying to brag or anything!” You hurriedly explain before he had the thought that you were trying to make yourself look better in his eyes. “It’s just that I hope you could understand where we are coming from too.”
Dovich didn’t expect the conversation to progress in this manner. He had spotted you in the reflection of a glass window of a shop and initially wanted to get you off his tail. Despite the initial scepticism, he was starting to warm up to you. He figured you weren’t like the rest of your group and seemed down to earth despite being an Avenger.
He couldn’t lie to himself and claimed he thought of you several times ever since the first encounter. How can one not forget someone who stepped in to save their life once?
Dovich gazed at you now standing civilly with an awaiting look. He wanted to trust you, he really did. But he knew Karli was especially alert and distrustful of anyone outside her circle. Your affiliation wouldn’t help in this case either. He couldn’t make a promise that he can’t keep.
“I can’t promise you anything.” A grin formed on your face for the first time and you nodded your head in understanding.
“Of course, I just need a chance to talk. That’s all.” Dovich nodded back before he started walking back to the other end of the alleyway. He told you that he would speak with Karli after Donya’s ceremony and asked you to wait for his contact. He made you promise to not speak to your friends about this meeting and that he only trusted you.
You gave your agreement and maintained a friendly smile before he turned back to go onto another street.
-------------------------//---------------------------
Walking with lighter steps, you were glad to be able to do something right. You re-entered Zemo’s place and was greeted with the men gathering around to discuss their lack of result. You had to control yourself from revealing about your meeting with Dovich and kept quiet.
You agreed with Sam’s remarks on understanding Karli’s perspective and how she and her group were not motivated by malicious intentions.
Bucky then gave his own input that Karli would not be any different from Zemo. Recalling your last exchange with him, you suddenly felt upset with the super-soldier. You didn’t agree with his words either as you believed you understood better after talking with Dovich.
“I agree with Sam on this. Karli’s group is different and we need to give them a chance.” Bucky looked at you in disbelief. This was the first time you were ever not on the same page with him. He couldn’t agree with your views of giving the Flag Smashers a chance when they were such obvious threats.
Bucky believed that your soft-hearted nature was clouding your judgement and he thought better of you given your experience of dealing with such people.
“Can’t believe you are actually siding with terrorists Y/N.” His words came out harsher than expected and his heart twisted when he saw the tinge of sadness at how you received his words. A brief moment later, he saw your brows frowning and now looked at him with an offended stare.
“Not everything is black and white, James.” You scoffed before walking off to use the bathroom.
Sam and Zemo were surprised to hear the condescending tone in your voice towards Bucky. Knowing how you and Bucky were close-knitted, witnessing the suddenly tensed exchange between the two of you would have been baffled at what just transpired.
Hearing you calling him James was clear as day to Bucky that you were definitely not happy with him. Rubbing his temples in dismay, he wondered what have gotten over you suddenly. Sure, he was at fault for saying such a harsh comment but he still didn’t expect you to be like this.
Bucky lost his cool when Zemo stated he wanted to keep his leverage by not revealing any more information he had gotten from the little girl on the streets about Donya.
“You wanna see what someone can do we leverage?” Bucky too the glass in Zemo’s hand and threw it to the wall behind the Sokovian baron. He was silently seething at Zemo’s play on top of the unpleasant exchange that he had with you.
Sam came around to calm Bucky down before he indicated that he would make a call.
You stepped back into the common room when you heard the smashing of glass. You looked to see Bucky and Zemo in an intense standoff, well more so Bucky than Zemo.
Sam walked away first. Zemo asked Bucky if he would like some cherry blossom tea but the super-soldier refuted the offer with disdain in his tone.
“Y/N?” Zemo gestured to the lovely glass tea set on the coffee table. Glancing up to meet Bucky’s eyes, you could tell he was still bearing an annoyed look on his face.
You weren’t sure if it was his emotions from his exchange with Zemo or yours. Walking up to Zemo, you gave a polite smile before speaking.
“I would love to.” It was the second time that you acted out of character in a row. He knew that you didn’t like Zemo at all, only because of what Zemo had done to him. You were his girl (well sort of) and seeing you accepting Zemo’s offer even if it was just tea hit him differently.
Hearing how you graciously accepted the glass from Zemo and commenting on the fragrance of the brew, Bucky couldn’t believe his ears. He immediately stomped away from the scene before he felt like he would implode.
This was not right at all. Why would you suddenly act like this?
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PLAN À TROIS.— TODOROKI, BAKUGOU.
A.N:
❝ dear reader,
why hello it is i, nikki, back at it again. this post was specifically written thanks to @sasukelore’s big brain, meaning that this one is for the boys with the booming system, top down, AC with the cooler system😔✊🏻. it’s my first attempt at writing smut (which means it’s a direct ticket to hell) so please bare with me, i hope you’ll like it! if you have any feedback, please feel free to send it to me! also, my requests are open for business hehe.
sincerely yours,
nikki.
P.S: “plan à trois” has a double meaning— it means “threesome” in french but it also literally means “a plan involving three people” which is the core of the story, both literally and figuratively. ❞
Genre: Smut. (All three of the characters have been aged up.)
Warnings: Cursing, mentions of drugs (but no actual use of drugs), unprotected sex (please use a condom), nudity, spanking, choking, cunnilingus, blow-job, temperature play, threesome, dirty things.
Word count: 6.5k (she’s a big girl, don’t be shy.)
Letter object: One hotel. One gala. One mission. One person to take down. Three heroes. You and Shoto have to play the perfect fake couple to gain your enemy’s trust, the only thing is, Shoto has no clue how to behave as a couple. The unexpected help comes from Ground Zero who seems a bit too impatient and eager to show Shoto how to really treat a lady.
Metaphorically speaking, the heroes are seen as the predators and the villains as the preys, it’s always been that way— an eternal game of hide and seek, which only ends in binary results, either victory or loss. The latest news concerning the hero world had put this little game to a halt: the hushed rise of the anti-quirks drugs were concerning. The enemy was everywhere and nowhere, it was all whispers, a thread of ‘who said what’, mere illusions replaced authentic clues. The rules of the game had been changed into a paradox where the villains became the predators and the heroes were deemed as the preys.
The rule of silence, which could have easily been personified as the ringleader of this dystopic scenario, was cruel— anyone could be suspected of being a link of the drug chain. But fret not, if you were suspected and voices started to echo around louder and louder, a little bit of hush money was the price to pay to reinstate the rule of silence. Anyone could be a culprit, even (or mostly) into the highest spheres of society. Those who are worshipped in an agnostic way, they were on top of the social food chain and, perhaps even, on top of the drug chain. These elites have been very vocal about their will to suppress the almighty authority pro-heroes possess— feeling threatened for their own sake and their own inferiority complex, they were willing to play dirty to be able to rule the country with an iron fist.
The corrupted elites still remained as elites and enjoyed their mondane occupations— galas being one of them. It was a dream opportunity for you as a pro-hero, a room crowded with highly potential culprits served on a silver plate with a cup of champagne to serve as the cherry on the cake.
Stealth missions were highly dangerous if you didn’t have a cover good enough, and treading on the playground of influential people could possibly cost you your career as a pro-hero, but if you managed to succeed, you were bound to bask in glory. Keeping a realistic cover is the number one check on the list entitled “how not to blow up your whole mission and be hated by the rest of the country.” Luckily enough, your agence had already done all the dirty work for you and sent you everything you needed— a flawlessly cut evening attire, a shockingly well-done fake ID and a full file regarding the background of your character, all down to the tiniest details. And I cannot emphasize enough “all” the details...
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” Amongst the myriad of details (and some of them were completely unnecessary, I mean, was your favorite fruit really important?), one of them was impossible to ignore. “Shoto Todoroki, really?” His name rolled off your tongue for a reason, you were supposed to play his pseudo fiancée for the night. Your thumb brushed the surface inked with his name, unconsciously wishing that if you were brushing hard enough, his name would disappear and so would your almost wilted high school crush on him.
Your silent complains were cut short, the sound of someone knocking on your door stirred you from the invasion of your thoughts. Then the knocking sound echoed once more. “Just a second!” Has anyone heard of the concept of patience? Waiting a few seconds for someone to open the door isn’t a inhuman task. Eventually (although it could’ve have been funny to let this mysterious person fume because you purposefully took too long), you opened the door to your hotel room and it just felt like you had welcomed a storm in. Much to your surprise, there were two surprise guests, two U.A alumnis just like you— Shoto and Ground Zero.
“Well, shit, were you planning on letting us fucking die in the hallways, woman?! What the fuck took you so goddamn long, ha?” When I mentioned a storm earlier on today, I meant Bakugou Katuski— his annoyance was transcripted upon his face through the frowning of his eyebrows and the wrinkle sitting between them. “It’s good to see you too Bakugou, glad to see you missed me after all this time.” His hands were shoved in his pockets, clearly not keen on listening to your sarcastic remarks nor wearing a tuxedo for the night. “Tch. Keep your smart ass talk to yourself, dumbass.”
You had indeed let a storm invade your hotel room. But unbeknownst to you, you had also welcomed a hypotizing breeze, the polar opposite of Bakugou, and apparently future fiancé for the night: Shoto Todoroki. His facial expression reflected nothing but pure serinity, a signature stoic face which radically clashed with Bakugo’s scowl. Todoroki was so discreet, almost blending his presence with the newfound silence. He was wearing an evening suit of his own, aquamarine was his color after all, it was a known fact since your high school years.
“Y/N, as you may be aware, I am here for the stealth mission. Bakugou is going to accompany us just in case something goes wrong. It was a last minute change, but considering the household names who are going to attend this gala, too much precaution is better than not enough.” Ohh, so that was the reason why the angry gremlin was here. Although, you wondered how Shoto felt about the two of you acting as a fake engaged couple, was he still serene about that? “Yeah, while you two fake lovebirds will be busy eating each other’s faces off, I’m gonna be around to check if there is any intell on these anti-quirk selling bastards.” Each of his word was accompanied by a hand gesture pivoting between you and Shoto and, of course, the same old look of annoyance plastered upon his face. You and Shoto, on the other one hand, appeared a bit surprised at the use of “fake lovebirds”, it just hasn’t sunk in yet... Denial, perhaps?
“Speaking of kissing and shit— you, half and half bastard, do you still have a fucking stick up your ass or do you know how to act in a relationship?!” His interrogation was accompanied with a daring glance thrown in Todoroki’s direction and an eyebrow lifted just to emphasize the characteristic of his question a bit more. A bold question which immediately found its answer from the mouth of Todoroki, needless to say, you felt this remark coming. “Bakugou, you’re the last person here who could pretend having the knowledge necessary to provide relationship advices.” You couldn’t help but let a laugh escape at Todoroki’s remark highlighted by its bluntness, although you quickly changed your mind once you felt Bakugou’s stare landing on you with such rage causing you to hush your laugh by biting your thumb.
“Ha?! What the fuck did you just say, half and half bastard? Use that fucking mouth for yours for good measure and let’s see if you can kiss Y/N correctly. I won’t let this mission be blown up by your stupid ass.” This time, there was a hint of amusement in Bakugou’s voice, it was hard to distinct if he asked that because he truly cared about the mission or if he just wanted to push Todoroki out of his comfort zone. But the ghost of a smirk drawn upon his face seemed to support the second hypothesis.
“Guys, just a second here. I understand why we have to take care of our cover but it’s not like Todoroki and I are going to kiss all night long.” Your gaze alterned between Todoroki and Bakugou, it became impossible to hold your gaze on a fix structure due to how flustered you felt, and soon enough, your cheeks were quick to adopt a rosy tone. “Y/N, are you scared of kissing me by any chance?” You secretly hated the obvious tone of concern in Todoroki’s voice, he was willing to do anything to make this mission a success but also make sure you were comfortable around him. “N-No! It’s just… I don’t mind it.” What a miracle, you finally managed to look at him in the eyes but the blush on your cheeks was as lively as ever. “Then damn, if you don’t mind it just fucking kiss already we don’t have all night, dumbass.” You could tell by Bakugou’s body language that he was growing more and more impatient by the second, his arms were crossed over his chest— he was getting pissed.
Todoroki captured your attention once more when his index brushed the surface of your skin right below your chin while his thumb was carefully set upon your jawline. His orbs shone by their gleam of reassureance, his eyes met yours, as a silent way to ask your for permission and you fluttered your lids shut as an answer. As if it was some kind of second nature to him, his other arm compassed your waist in order to bring you close to him. His lips finally touched yours. Each one of his actions was so soft, you could barely feel them yet, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. His lips were melting ever so perfectly with yours, as if your lips were the sole one which could fit is, you couldn’t help but to hum as the carefulness of his lips overwhelmed you. The kiss was shy, experimental, and yet so agonizing. He was temptingly and agonizingly slow, which only made you crave for more. However, given the lack of oxygen, you had no choice but to (relanctutly) break the kiss. You opened your eyes and basked in Todoroki’s beauty, still in awe at what just happ—… “Oi! Have you ever kissed anyone before, Icyhot? Fucking hell, what was that?!”
Of course this was bound to be expected— the angry gremlin in his natural behavior. You and Todoroki exchanged a look which held a thousand questions before you felt your wrist being caught by a much warmer palm, and eventually, you were yanked straight into Bakugou’s chest (not that you were complaining.) “Open your damn eyes and look, this how you fucking kiss a woman, dipshit.” The sound of his voice roaring against your eardrum made you flinch in the nicest way possible. Bakugou naturally made himself at ease all while maintaining his gaze upon Todoroki who was looking at him in return with a noticeable disdain in his eyes.
Bakugou was challenging him in a way, he perfectly knew that Todoroki was observing his every move, hence why he took the liberty to let his palm roam over the curve of your derrière as a way to taunt him. However, the taunt didn’t last too long not to make you feel uncomfortable. He quickly settled one of his hand on the small of your back (to maintain you as close to him as humanly possible) whilst his other hand was set upon your neck. He didn’t waste any more time and went straight to business.
Bakugou’s kiss was, as expected, a vivid contrast compared to Todoroki’s kiss. While Todoroki’s felt hesitant, caring, sweet… Bakugou’s kiss was rough around the edges and his sole purpose was to make your knees weak. Once he crashed his lips upon yours, he immediately swiped his tongue over the surface of your bottom lip, demanding immediate access to your mouth. You knew better than to upset Bakugou so you pleased and allowed his tongue to explore your mouth— your tongue was at his mercy for a few instants before finding a steady rhythm for you two. His presence was overwhelming— his smell, how close you were to him with nowhere to escape, his mouth, his tongue, everything caused you to rightfully let a moan escape into the kiss. At the sound of it, Todoroki’s eyes widened while Bakugou smirked into the kiss, he knew he made a point. You, in return, started to tug at his blonde hair— the rough atmosphere of the kiss affected your actions as well. Just prior to breaking the kiss, Bakugou’s teeth dug into your bottom lip and applied a few pressures while you were looking at him with pleading eyes to continue. Once he got what we wanted, he ended the kiss with a surprisingly soft peck upon your lips.
With his hand still settled on the small of your back, Bakugou turned to Todoroki’s direction and offered him his biggest smirk to show his secret victory. You were left breathless by the kiss, a series of uneven hot breaths crashed down onto Bakugou’s skin.
If anyone were to walk in your hotel room, they would be able to feel and even touch the graduating tension in the air which almost felt agonizing. The tension was mostly radiating off of the two men, a silent battle for dominance had been declared through glances, holders of pure will to outbest the other.
Todoroki observed the scene on his chair, and unbeknownst to him, Bakugou had indirectly offered him the best seat in the room to watch the manifestation of his talents. An almost inaudible sigh left Todoroki’s lips which translated into a sign of discontentment. “Y/N, come here.” The tone was strict, cold even, and you felt obligated to do as told.
Detaching yourself from Bakugou’s embrace (you could tell he didn’t want to let you go judging from how his palm lingered on your back), you stepped away and made your way to Todoroki, a quizzical look noticeable in the reflect of your eyes. “What now?” You asked. Todoroki gestured to his lap and you knew what it meant, it was a speech without any word necessary.
Paradoxically enough, Bakugou stared at the scenery in front of him in pure silence, and although it was very unlike him, he was mimicking Todoroki’s actions earlier on- he wanted to witness how Shoto was going to respond to his own deeds.
You placed your hands over Todoroki’s shoulders to gain stability before sitting on his lap, it was a foreign feeling, but goodness, it was already addicting as hell and you were not interested in finding a cure. Both of Shoto’s hands crawled on the same spot where Bakugou’s hands used to linger just a few moments ago, you understood rather quickly that he was using his own methods against him. You were the center of Todoroki’s attention, his gaze graced your frame and he was loving the sound of your uneven breath, he wondered if he could make your respiration even more irregular.
He paid no mind to mind to the silent Bakugou who was already fuming in his corner as Shoto delivered a succession of pecks on the delicate flesh of your neck, and you tilted your head just enough to let him play on a wider surface. He traded the pecks for a few daring bites on certain areas, he needed to find your weak spot. “A-Ah... Shoto!” the sound of his name rolling off your tongue coated in such bliss was enough for him to curve his lips into a smirk.
It was a brief moment of peace before he dug his teeth on the same spot and you failed to prevent any whimpers from coming out by biting your lower lip. He knew you were restricting yourself, prisoning these beautiful sounds of ecstasy, and he didn’t like any of it. He focused on your lower lip and rubbed the oh so soft surface with the pad of his thumb to prevent your from biting it, and thus, keeping your sounds of pleasure to yourself.
“Don’t be shy, love. I’m pretty sure both Bakugou and I can agree on the fact that the little sounds you’re making are too divine to be hushed. Will you be a good girl and let us hear the sounds you’re making?” It was as if his voice was coated with honey, just his voice alone was enough to make you feel weak, and if you paid enough attention, you were pretty sure he purposefully blew a fit of cold air onto the skin of your neck. “Yes, please... I’ll be good, so good.” From that moment you knew you were at his mercy and he enjoyed every second of it. “You’re such a good girl for us.”
And so he continued, but it was rougher this time, a harsh contrast compared to his hesitant kiss from just a few moments ago. His teeth dug into the flesh of your skin harder this time, the sole purpose of leaving a mark on your crimson colored flesh was haunting his mind. To accomplish said purpose, Todoroki alternated between biting motions and a few swipes of his tongue on the newly bruised skin. The whimpers coming out of your mouth shamelessly only added fuel to his fire. He knew what he was doing, and you knew just how sensitive this particular area could get.
Once he judged it was enough, he delivered a few pecks on the love bites, a way to kiss his art into your skin. “You’re so perfect, love, so perfect with my name written over your skin.” He whispered between kisses. Your head was thrown back, fingers grasping at the roots of his hair, your mouth agape- your whole body language testified of the addictive effect he had on you.
Such bliss couldn’t last for long, and quickly enough, another voice was being heard, a roar even. “Oi, oi, oi! Don’t even think for a single fucking second that you can have her all to yourself, half and half bastard.” It was almost a miracle that Bakugou had observed you in silence, but as expected, patience was nowhere near his forte. He had already crossed his limit long before you sat on Todoroki’s laps. Bakugou’s eyes were strictly focused on your frame, he was completely under your spell after observing how your chest would rise and fall unevenly to grasp any ounce of oxygen.
Your knees felt weak already, you could only stare at Bakugou and silently ask him to continue, to make you feel even weaker, to make you experience pure bliss. You wanted to say his name, it was right on the tip of your tongue, but as you observed his figure reducing more and more the space between the two of you, you just admired him in silence.
“Hah? What’re you looking at, brat? You want more? Is that it? You want fucking more? Say no more.” You should’ve known that the wicked smirk plastered upon his face was a pre-indicator of what was bound to happen. He lifted you off of Todoroki’s lap, the latter frowned a bit at the lack of your presence on him, and carried you to the bed before dropping you on the mattress. Todoroki was quick to follow from behind and stood right next to Bakugou, his hands already busy taking off his jacket and unbuttoning the first button of his evening shirt. “I’m sure that Bakugou and I can find a little agreement. After all, we can share, correct?” Todoroki’s rhetorical question found its answer once Bakugou let a discreet chuckle escape from his mouth after throwing his jacket God knows where and messily undoing his tie. “We’re gonna take real fucking good take care of you, baby girl.”
You were refraining yourself from already touching you, it took all the strength in the world not to give in to the most passionate temptations. But deep down, you already knew you were bound to be overwhelmed by pure bliss judging by how they were looking at you. You could only hum in response, unsure of how your voice would have sounded under the heavy influence of desire.
Bakugou made the first move, after all, his poor soul felt left alone when Todoroki overwhelmed you with pecks and bites. He crawled over you, his knees were on each side of your waist, his hands however, assured total domination- his right hand clutched your wrists now pinned above your hand while his left palm settled by force on your throat, needless to say, the pressure was already applied on your windpipe. “You wanna’ play that game with me, hah?! Let Icyhot have all of you to himself and I got fucking nothing in return? Babygirl, I don’t watch, I fucking play.” It was too ferocious to be qualified as a whisper, and yet, when Bakugou pronounced the last bits of his sentence right in the shell of your ear, you felt like you were floating in pure bliss. “Answer me.” His grip on your throat felt a bit tighter. “P-Please... Ju-Just do whatever you want... With my body.” The lack of oxygen felt agonizing, you were deprived of fresh air and you were laying on the bed while Bakugou exuded pure confidence and domination, an aura so thick, you wished you could’ve touched it. “That’s my babygirl.”
As Bakugou’s lips crashed onto yours, forcing its tongue into your mouth while maintaining the right amount of pressure on your throat to offer you a panorama of new sensations, Todoroki had already gotten rid of his shirt. If you paid close attention, you could see shy flames on his shoulders, he was absolutely adoring the scenery unfolding before him. Everything about you filled his senses, the sight of you giving in to Bakugou was nothing short of divine, the whimpers leaving your mouth in cascade whether the reason was the lack of air or the fierceness of Bakugou’s intentions was the sweetest melody he had ever heard. Everything was perfect.
You felt the oxygen become one with your body again once Bakugou broke the kiss and allowed his hand to travel from your neck down to your chest, but his eyes were never leaving yours. He wanted to watch you come undone under his touch, he swore it to himself.
“I’ll take the bottom half. Icyhot, I don’t give a damn about what you do, just don’t fucking interrupt me.” His eyes were already set on the prize, your heat in all its glory. Shoto said nothing in response, you were the holder of all his undivided attention. As Bakugou took a firm grasp of your thighs, opening the way to his newfound purpose, Todoroki took over the top half of your body- he started by planting a succession of pecks from your lips down to your collarbone, passing by your neck, and each kiss was amplified by the cold air he was blowing on the surface of your skin. The contrast in temperature cause you to allow a few whimpers to escape, you already knew you craved for more, it was a way of manifesting it.
“You won’t need that, will you, love?” He said while pointing at your shirt, as his index was already hooking the fabric. It was a rhetorical question of course, you simply answered by humming. Your silent response was the only thing necessary for Shoto to send your shirt flying somewhere in the room. He continued his trail of kisses down to the valley of your breasts, the same cold air following him as he went.
Bakugou, on the other one hand, had already gotten rid off your skirt, but not before letting his palms explore the generous cheeks hidden underneath it, and eventually, leaving a slap right on this area which caused you to yelp in surprise. The pad of his thumb was already brushing against the surface of the fabric, oh what a pleasure it was when he felt the sensation of humidity coming through your underwear. A sensation so good, so addicting, so divine that it brought a sly grin to his face. “Already so wet for us, babygirl? You’re not wasting your damn time, hah?” Your skin was burning under his touch, you could already feel the chills running down your spine and he hadn’t even taken off your underwear yet.
Todoroki took the strap of your bra between his thumb and index, and much to your suprise, he used the right amount of his quirk to burn the fabric and applied the same treatment to the other strap. Before you could even protest about the poor outcome of your bra, he planted his lips on your own to keep you quiet. Now, he focused his attention to your breasts and the bits of clothing left which prevented the upper half of your body from being fully exposed. He took the opportunity given by Bakugou who had gotten rid of your underwear which made you arch your back to unclip your bra. There was nothing stopping him now. He let his gaze fell on you, so full of adoration, while he leaned down and caught the last piece of fabric remaining of your bra between his teeth. His eyes held so much envy, so much desires which reciprocated in the reflect of your own orbs.
Shoto threw your bra out of his mouth, and there you were- your body bare in all its glory. “Fuck, you’re so perfect...” He whispered right against your chest, causing you to let out a sigh you didn’t even know you were holding. He used his mother’s inherited side to trace the contour of your breasts, he knew he was going to earn a moan in return and he was so please to hear such a sinful melody at the clash of his cold fingers against your burning skin. His thumb and his index worked in harmony to twist the bud of your nipple and overwhelm it by Shoto’s cold touch while his tongue delivering hot saliva on your skin was already doing wonders on your other breast, a perfect balance between cold and hot which made your arousal erupt even more and someone was quick to notice...
“Oi, doll face, focus on me, not on this goddamn fucker. Don’t you feel so fucking good when I touch you like that, hah?” His burning jealousy amplified the voracity of his deeds. Every single one of his touch served the purpose of pleasuring you, but also outdo Todoroki’s touches. He needed to be the best at everything, including making you melt under his touch. You struggled to keep your eyes open, the desire to close your eyes and let your body attract all the attention while basking in pure bliss was too strong and yet, Bakugou’s voice roared into your mind, you couldn’t help but lay your eyes on him through half-closed lids.
Once he knew he was the bearer of all your attention, he put his body and mind to work. Both of his hands planted your thighs on each side of his body, you felt too weak to move under his touch and did not dare resist the pressure. You whined in advance because you knew what was coming- and boy, did he look good with his face buried between your thighs.
One long, sharp, vertical lick was all it took to let yet another moan escape your lips once more, and to Bakugou, it was the best reward. The heat of his tongue responded to the heat of your core, it was pure harmony. He licked the your core over and over again, tasting you, loving you, worshipping you even. One time he left lingering kisses to the side of your core, another time he was left licking motions all over your folds because your taste was the best thing he had ever felt. His motions echoed to your whines and moans, he was sure of hearing a sinful melody each time his tongue entered in contact with your skin.
“Keep making these noises for me, don’t be fucking shy.” His hot breath on the center of your heat embraced perfectly the succession of his actions, “Y-Yes... P-Please, I want... I need more.” Bakugou couldn’t help but let a low chuckle leave his lips, in response to your needy attitude, he left a harsh slap on the surface of your butt, to which you whined loudly in response. “Such a fucking filthy mouth you have there, hah?” He smiled to himself, knowing perfectly that what he was about to do was bound to leave you as a whimpering mess. Without any warning, he slid two of his fingers inside your core, and fuck, you were tight. His thumb was brushing against your sweet bundle of nerves which had already been cherished by Bakugou’s tongue earlier.
You clutched the sheets of the bed to release some of the buildup pressure inside, it was as if a tornado, a volcano and a firework were exploding at the same time in your stomach, each of them resulting in a series of whimpers and moans at the overstimulation. Your lids were shut close already, yet, they kept fluttering over the invisible crimson touches left by both Todoroki and Bakugou.
Speaking over Todoroki, he was tasting you in such a different way as he started to get the grip of Bakugou’s mechanic. His mind kept roaming and roaming, he knew that just one mark on your neck was not quite enough and he needed to beat Bakugou at his own game- he positioned himself right over your right breast and blew a fit of fresh air, causing him to smile at himself for being the reason of such a reaction, and dug his teeth into your flesh. Motivated by the the way you kept tugging at his hair, he kept biting the same area over and over again until sucking your flesh just enough to create yet another love bite over your breast, such an intimate area, isn’t it? And now his whole name was written on it.
“B-Bakugou... I can’t take it... Ahh! Anymore, please, please...” His fingers weren’t enough anymore, you were pleading his name, begging him to become one with you because you were unsure as to how you were going to keep the unleashed pressure within you ruin you. “So eager for my fucking cock, aren’t you?! You’re gonna count with me each inch entering your fucking cunt, got it?” You were willing to do anything at this point- Todoroki’s bites and his cold touch, Bakugou’s fingers and tongue, it made you fill dizzy but you knew, deep down, you were slowly approaching a pure state of bliss. “Yes... Yes I will.”
For his own purpose, Bakugou took his fingers off your core and flipped you on your stomach so you could be on all fours. You were giving him the view of worthy of a masterpiece: the crimson colored marks on your butt cheeks, the vivid rosy tone of your dripping core, oh he wanted all of you. “Love, don’t you forget that I’m here too, right? Open your pretty mouth for me.” You did as Todoroki preached, opening your mouth for him to stick his index in there. “Suck.” he commanded, to which you obliged by creating hollows in your cheeks and embrace his finger around your tongue, this feeling was beyond perfect, beyond the wildest fantasies his imagination had to offer. He could only let his subconsciousness roam about how his cock would feel around your perfectly pouted lips.
Bakugou’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers turning white in the process while your flesh adopted a reddish tone in response. With the use of the pad of his thumb, he spread the pre-cum leaking all over his length, and so it began: the first inch. “One.”, it sounded more like an order than a statement, “...One.” you echoed, your response didn’t come quick enough to Bakugou’s liking, making you earn a harsh slap on your cheeks in return. Then another inch “Two.” , another faint sound coming from your lips “T-Two...”, yet another slap on your abused flesh. And so it went on, the process remained the same- another inch, another whisper escaping your mouth between sobs, another spank.
On the other side of the bed, Todoroki was stroking his own length at the sight before him. You were on the brim of tears, and Bakugou didn’t show any mercy regarding your current state. “I’m sorry, her mouth is going to be full soon, she won’t have room to count out for you.” Bakugou grunted in response to Todoroki’s taunt. His strokes became gradually faster, like a crescendo if you will. His other hand, however, was placed right underneath your jaw to give you some support and your mouth was already open in anticipation for what was bound to happen.
With his hand to keep your jaw steady, you welcomed Todoroki’s lenght into your mouth and he automatically let a groan as the tip of your tongue caressed his sensitive tip. You imagined how rewarding it must have felt for them to hear your own moans and whimpers because hearing Todoroki’s moan felt like a blessing to your eardrums.
Your tongue circled around his cock, your hand was pumping his length, and Todoroki wondered if this is what heaven looked and felt like. Your whimpers were hushed by the presence of his member in your mouth, but somehow, even these half silenced sounds of pleasure sounded even better to his ears. He felt his lids shut close under the miracle work of your tongue while his hand lingered in your hair to motivate you to keep going.
Bakugou, frustrated by this change of plans due to Todoroki’s own personal pleasure, slid the entirety of his phallus into you abruptly. The shock caused you to remove Shoto’s member from your mouth momentarily to catch your breath and release yet another whine before pleasuring Todoroki again. That came as a surprise to no one, not even Shoto himself, but Bakugou’s pace was rough and almost animalistic.
The sound of his testicles clapping against your flesh testified of the pace and yet, it felt so enticing. Bakugou was not so vocal, but he did leave his fair share of grunts as he buried himself into you more and more until reaching your cervix. It was too much, your core was burning, hell your whole body was on fire. The tears that threatened to fall had put their threat to execution, you knew you were close, the overstimulation was getting the best of you leaving you in a whimpering, trembling mess.
You continued to stroke Shoto’s length with your tongue, but his need to take control took over him. The same hand that rested in your hair suddenly took a firm grasp of your hair and he thrusted himself into your mouth and from there, his grunts became more repetitive. Truthfully, it was the only push he needed to bring him over the edge, the previous work of your tongue had put him under a spell. A spell he never wanted to wake up from. He knew what was coming, you felt it too but how the tip of his phallus was tickling your throat deeper and deeper.
Shoto didn’t even notice the small flames making their apparition on the blades of his collarbone, meaning that it was finally time for him to cum. He set your mouth free and hinted his length towards your chest, letting the drips of cum color your skin, and allowed the most magical moan to leave his already parted lips in satisfaction. “Love, look what you fucking did to me. You’re so beautiful, so beautiful with my cum all over you.” Your first instinct was to fill your lungs with oxygen, something so common yet it was cruelly needed. You looked through your lashes at Shoto with pleading eyes while he looked at you with a glimpse of adoration in his. His digit was carefully wiping the excess of cum leaking down your chin to place it right into your mouth. He could only stare in awe at the sight of you tasting him. He felt so full, and fulfilled. He was finally at peace, soaking in pure bliss.
The grasp Bakugou was holding over your hips became even harsher, which you though was impossible just a few seconds before. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He grunted, trying to keep his volume at bay by digging his teeth into his lower lip but it was all too much to be contained. He knew his climax was close, so close that he could picture it if he closed his eyes just for a second. Bakugou’s name fell on your lips like a forbidden prayer, his name had turned into the only thing you were able to say. “I-...Ah! Inside, inside, fuck, please...”, you felt a wave of pleasure taking over your body, a pleasure so intense, no word could have done it justice. Oh well, that was the sole indication he needed to hear before digging his nails into your sides, causing you to arch your back and bite the sheets, already preventing the cascade of whimpers from echoing in the room. “Fucking hell... Cum with me, now.”
With one last thrust, Bakugou came within you, his face was facing the ceiling as he came undone with you. His cum slid within you and in return, your body thanked him by letting your own juice flow all over his length.
Silence invaded the room. No more grunts, no more moans, no more cries. Pure silence inhabited by the uneven breaths of three protagonists who had just touched heaven by the tip of their fingers. Three victims of passion.
Bakugou pulled out of you, earning a whimper in return at the sudden feeling of vacuity. Your legs were shaking, and you secretly thanked every God for allowing you to stay relatively steady on all fours for this long and be able to endure the bestial-like pace of Bakugou. Needless to say, you were panting, you mouth was agape and you were crying for air. Your body immediately crashed onto the mattress, the soft feeling of the sheets enveloping your skin after reaching heaven made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud.
Bakugou and Todoroki shared a look, a small grin even, before crashing down onto the mattress next to you. You were unable to move, your mind was comparable to a wild blur as a result of your orgasm. A rush of words flew through your air but absolutely none of them was powerful and meaningful enough to qualify how you were feeling. At peace? No, not strong enough. Full? Nope, did not carry enough meaning. It was a unique feeling, worthy of all the praises in the world.
Todoroki draped an arm over your waist and left a trail of kisses upon the flesh of your shoulder, a silent way to thank you for allowing him to experience heaven in a rush. Bakugou, on the other one hand, was facing your back and allowed his index to draw invisible patterns on the skin of your back. Paradoxically enough, the silence carried more words and emotions than an actual speech. Until...
“So... Um, about the mission?”
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I think you’re mercury is in Capricorn?
It's *you're, but indeed I have a Capricorn Mercury.
Welcome to your reading. Please remember to send feedback.
First impressions when looking at your chart: even distribution of planets; lots of aspects; a grand trine
SUN IN LIBRA
The Sun has its fall in Libra. This is, therefore, the most difficult position for the Sun, theoretically speaking. Concretely, you may find it hard to know and express yourself or you may have trouble developing healthy self-esteem. You may achieve self-discovery through socializing and relationships, particularly romantic ones. Your indecisive personality may hinder your journey of self-knowledge, so beware of this. You have a big need for harmony in life and in relationships, but your partner should balance you, so a person who can take initiative and make decisions is ideal, someone who is dynamic and has a taste for adventure. You are quite sociable and loved by everyone. Venus lends you grace, elegance, good taste and a high sense of diplomacy, fairness and justice.
SUN IN THE 11TH HOUSE
Here, the Sun is in the house of Aquarius. Libra does well here, because the two signs share some traits: humanitarianism, great importance of friendships, fondness of socialization. With the Sun placed here, I think that your group of friends is absolutely crucial to you: you can blend in well and you're very much accepted and liked by them. You can lead without being dominating, which makes people naturally bend to your desires. The Libra and Aquarius mix make me think that you would do well as an activist, a spokesperson for an NPO or a civil rights lawyer. The discovery of your identity may be acquired whilst in one of these groups or associations. You place great importance on your social life and you work together in a team. However, you should take care not to become too much like those around you.
MOON IN SCORPIO
Once again, you have a planet in Fall. Scorpio is a sign known for its intensity, whilst the Moon is a sensitive, delicate luminary. This position probably means that your emotional life is intense and dramatic. Your relationships are quite deep when it comes to the bond, but they are also complex and you may struggle to maintain them. Nothing is ever good enough, you are always unsatisified. You can mess with other people's emotions, be it on purpose or not. This may be due to your high intuitiveness and ability to discern others' thoughts and secrets. I'd say people cannot be indifferent to you. You may attract a lot of bad wishes, but some desperately want to be you or be with you. You probably take a lot of time to trust someone, but when that happens, you become a deeply loyal and caring partner, revealing you inner fragility and insecurity. However, you strong façade can probably keep most people away. Changing your nature may be quite difficult, but an unexpected loss may cause you to rethink your approach to life.
MOON IN THE 1ST HOUSE
You embody some of the Moon's traits, for example, your highly accurate intuitiveness regarding other people's feelings. Also, a bit like Cancer Moon, you may become "infected" by the feelings of those around you. With the Moon placed here, you may feel more comfortable showing your emotions, which very much contrasts with your Scorpio Moon. This is even more so because your Moon conjuncts the Ascendant. The relationship with your mother could be extremely important to you, for the good or for the bad. This placement also gives you an almost motherly quality: you can be quite good at perceiving when and how people need emotional support.
MERCURY IN SCORPIO
In this sign, Mercury behaves in a controlled, secretive way. You may be very cautious with your words, preferring to listen and to think, rather than to speak. You are graced with a natural curiosity toward the secret and the hidden things. You may enjoy delving on the concealed intentions and thoughts of others. Being a fixed sign, you may fiercely defend your opinions, as well as have a hard time seeing the world though a different lens. I think this may be a good placement for someone who works with the human mind: a physcologist or a detective. Your mind is restless, always looking for answers as to how things happen. However, you can give off reserved and secretive vibes, which may not be the most welcoming. Nevertheless, your ability to discern what other people struggle to see may be a huge advantage for you.
MERCURY IN THE 12TH HOUSE
This is the most karmic house. Mercury placed here may cause difficulty in bridging your thoughts and your feelings. Nevertheless, as I mentioned in the section about Scorpio Mercury, you enjoy mental gifts that are out of the reach of most people. Your inner world is very important to you; a refuge, even. You often delve deep into the subconscious mind, attempting to find explanations for what happens in the real world. In your case, since it makes a lot of sqares and oppositions, this need of yours may cause you to get obsessed, paranoic, even, so be careful not to let the influence of the powerful 12th house overtake your mind. This placement may lead to thoughts that, in turn, cause problems. It is your mission in this lifetime to learn from past lives and use this energy to better know yourself and the world around you.
VENUS IN VIRGO
Venus falls in the sign of Virgo (3 planets Fall in your chart, are you ok?). Here, Venus is given the tools of Mercury, which differ so very much from her own. For one, you are way too logical and analytical in your relationships. Your emotions aren't felt that much; you prefer to rationalize them, perhaps because you don't know how to deal with them in the first place. You probably prefer platonic relationships over romantic ones, because the latter require those feelings of which you have little understanding, whilst the former can rely upon solely on the mind, your speciality. You are intelligent, determined, put together and goal-oriented. Acts of service is probably the way to win you. Nevetheless, you don't fall for just anyone. You have to think a lot before entering a relationship, weighing all the pros and cons. However, when you do commit, you are are quite loyal and cute with your partner.
VENUS IN THE 9TH HOUSE
This placement is one of the indicators of having a foreign spouse or someone from a different cultural background; perhaps you will meet them abroad. This is because of your desire to connect to people in your travels. You also wish for a relationship that will broaden your horizons and will bring lots of adventures. Additionally, your relationships may affect how you see the world. You have a thirst for adventure. This is also a good position for teachers because it allows them to connect their love (Venus) to their teachings (9H).
MARS IN SAGITTARIUS
Mars in this sign makes for a highly adventurous, spontaneous, fun-loving individual. You have that reckless optimism that defines Sagittarius so well. With Mars here, you act in a blunt way and you are not afraid to take risks. This placement also aids with that search for the truth that I mentioned in the two Mercury sections. Sagittarius is also quite concerned with the higher mysteries, so Mars here goes well with your Mercury. You may also take action through your ideals; Jupiter, which rules Sagittarius, is also an idealist planet. Morals are quite important to you. Also, like the other Fire Mars, this is an auspicious placement for people who do sports competitively.
MARS IN THE 2ND HOUSE
Here, Mars is tied in with the themes of Taurus. Since Taurus is a fixed sign, I'd say that you are very good at getting what you want because you are quite determined and perseverant. You may have a strong will to acquire material things that bring you comfort and security. In that sense, you may wish to have a high-paying job that allows you to buy the things that allow you to have that comfortable lifestyle. However, you may spend your money too generously, so beware of that. You are brave and dynamic, qualities that help you to achieve what you want.
JUPITER IN TAURUS
Jupiter here emphasizes the importance that your values and desires have to you: harmony, comfort, security are of utmost importance. Like I mentioned, if you feel safe, you will appreciate all of these things in life. Jupiter also grants you a high need for love and affection, which, if provided, will be more than enough to make you happy. However, if you do not feel that security, you may become possessive, be it with people or with material things. Also, you may lead a lifestyle too focused on your earthly possessions. Lastly, you may also be anxious about the future; you want to know what’s in store for you.
JUPITER IN THE 5TH HOUSE
This placement expands your creative abilities. As a means to find yourself (Libra Sun), you may make use of the arts to express your identity. This is a lighter placement, that may give you that fun-loving, extroverted, childlike outlook on life. Once again, a placement that favours sports. It may also be a good one to have in order to better bond with children. Take care not to get too vain, because, with Jupiter in the house of Leo, you may feel compelled to be the best at everything you do, to be the star. You probably have lots of hobbies and may like to be a little risky with them; perhaps gambling or something along those lines, something challenging.
SATURN IN TAURUS
Your insecurities are tied to your possessions. This placement is not a good one in terms of managing money; you could’ve had problems in this area in a past life. Your self-esteem is too connected to what you belong, instead of what you are. You are too attached, so you also fear losing those things you love. You���re also too afraid to change, perhaps because you are not one to take risks, preferring to choose what you know. You shouldn’t think this way. Change is a natural part of life, one you must accept. Your self-growth is achieved through the connection to your heart. Learn to feel, instead of owning. Learn how to connect to people.
SATURN IN THE 6TH HOUSE
You can feel responsible for other people, especially your coworkers, even if you struggle getting along with them. There’s a need to serve, to be of use to others; you may find it hard to relax. You are quite organized, so you’d do well to make use of it. You could also be the type to help others in the way to their goals. However, you should also understand that, sometimes, you should just let go and go with the flow. Not everything in life is about hard work, routines or responsibilities. Find something that excites you; try some meditation. There may also be some health issues, perhaps you had them in your childhood. ⬛
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Iron Boy, Chapter 3: A Quest For Validation
(Ao3 Link)
All the thinking in the world was nothing compared to The Real Deal. Which, that fateful day, came in the form of a companion Moze decided would understand.
FL4K was extremely meticulous with the feeding times for their pets, which meant they were always in the same part of Sanctuary at the same time every day. This day was no different. Several bowls were lined up in a perfect row on the floor of the ship’s central hub, each filled with a different kind of food ranging from pellets to squirming grubs.
If FL4K was surprised to see Moze lingering by those bowls that particular day, they didn’t express such a sentiment. Instead they stomped by her with their usual diligence, followed closely by an array of beasts. “Here you are,” they said in that deep, mechanized voice of theirs, stepping aside to let their pets at their bowls. “Feed.”
“Hey, man–” Moze hesitated as FL4K met her gaze with that single LED eye of theirs. “Uh, I mean...” Speaking in masculine terminology was her go-to for everyone, including herself. FL4K never failed to remind her that they were neither man nor woman, and that her gendered slang made no sense in application. “FL4K. If I were to ask you to do something really weird, and then never, ever talk about it again, would you be down for it?”
“A bizarre request. I cannot commit to a response until I am given more details.”
Double-checking to make sure no one was around, Moze knitted her fingers together. “Would you be willing to call me a ‘he’? Just so I can see how it feels?”
FL4K’s unreadable face was unsettling at the best of times. Now it left her with no idea how they were going to respond.
“Maybe you could just, like...” Her voice faltered, dropping in volume. “’Oh yeah, Moze, he’s a really cool guy. Well not a guy, but like, a cool Vault Hunter. And he’s got lots of style. And the ladies love him. Something like that.”
FL4K stared at her for a long time. Then, in a tone entirely deadpan, they said, “Yes, Moze. He is a really cool guy. Not a guy. A cool Vault Hunter. He has lots of style. And ladies love him.”
Her stomach fluttered again. Wow. “Do you...think that suits me?”
“Humans’ gendered pronouns are largely incomprehensible to me.”
So FL4K could voice Moze’s requested pronouns, but could not weigh in on if they suited her or not. For that, she’d need human input.
Still though, the tingling in her stomach was real. “Huh. Thanks, FL4K.”
“I am uncertain what I actually accomplished, but you’re welcome.”
Humans understood pronouns in a social context. But they could also pass judgment and reject her. Was there a human onboard this ship who could give her an honest opinion without potentially turning her into a social pariah? She was too nervous to talk to Amara about it, and Zane was unreliable at best. Telling Moxxi was as good as telling everyone on the ship, and Ava was way too young to get it.
Wait a minute. There was absolutely a human on board who could give her honest feedback without fear of social rejection.
After gobbling down some skag jerky and downing half a bottle of Rakk ale from the kitchen, Moze dragged her feet to Sanctuary’s upper level.
~~~
In the army, one was taught to keep pace. Keep rank. Fall in line. Movements, words, even thoughts were trained to a rigid rhythm, and to break that rhythm was to risk your entire squad breaking formation in battle, a death sentence.
The way Dr. Tannis moved, talked, and even just existed flew in the face of everything Moze had had drilled into her all those years. She was erratic and chaotic, unpredictable. Her behavior made Moze nervous for just that reason. She preferred conversations where she could be reasonably sure of what the person was going to say next. Talking to Tannis felt like reading dialogue written by a predictive text emulator.
When the infirmary door lifted into the ceiling, Tannis had her back turned. The door opened constantly when people walked by (side effect of the ship being designed by people with no spaceship design experience, to put it politely), so it made sense she might ignore it. But Moze had a feeling the doctor intentionally ignored entrants to her lab, anyway.
As Moze took a few more steps inside, she realized Tannis was talking to herself. No, wait–she was talking to the toothbrush propped in a cup on her desk. Of course.
“No, no, you must have misplaced it. Ava specifically said she would not steal from my lab when I wasn’t around.” After a moment of silence, Tannis whipped her chair over to face the toothbrush. “Well I am more inclined to believe her, considering you lied about putting the toilet paper backwards on the roll. Who does that?!”
“Uh, hey Doc?” Moze was practically on top of her before Tannis finally turned around.
“Oh, hello...you.” Tannis made no attempt to hide her scant recognition of the Vault Hunter who had helped save her life just a few months prior. “Do you require something of me?”
“Yes.” Unlike most everyone else, Tannis actually appreciated and understood the art of getting right to the point. It was just about the only thing the two of them had in common. “I need your opinion about pronouns.”
“Oh, you can use any for me, I don’t care.” With a wave of her hand, she was already turning her chair back around.
“Not for you.” Moze reached out and turned the chair back around. Tannis raised her eyebrows, but did not protest. “For me.”
Tannis’ face scrunched. She briefly–very briefly–met Moze’s eyes. “I do not feel as though that’s something I could make a call on.”
With a sigh, Moze leaned against the desk housing Tannis’ array of illegible papers and empty coffee mugs. “Do you think it’d be weird if I asked people to use he/him for me, even though I don’t think I’m actually, like, a guy? ”
Tannis was eyeing her paperwork. It was clear Moze was little but a distraction to her. “I find it equal parts baffling and amusing that you are asking me to be the judge of ‘weirdness’. How on earth should I know how the slack-jaws aboard this ship will perceive non-traditional relationships to gender? Most of them glaze over upon the use of a word with more than two syllables.”
“’Kay, look. Lemme explain.” Moze held her hands out in emphasis. Tannis’ eyes flicked from the right to the left in turn. “I’m kinda going through a thing here. It’s probably not a big deal, but I wanted to ask somebody who won’t treat me different afterward. I know you pretty much treat everyone with equal...”
“Apathy?” Tannis volunteered. “Disdain?”
“Yeah, those. So that’s why I’m asking you.” Moze drifted her hands down, emphasizing the entirety of herself. “Do you think I’d make a good he/him...whatever I am?”
Tapping her chin, Tannis eventually said, “As surprised as I am by your decision to recruit me as your pronoun advisor, I must admit I am flattered. So I will give you my honest opinion.” Her bright green eyes, so vivid with life and curiosity, searched Moze for another moment. “I was not entirely sure of your gender when I met you. I’m terrible at that sort of thing, anyway, but...”
“Wait. You couldn’t tell I was a woman?”
Tannis shrugged her leather-padded shoulders. “I pay very little attention to gendered markers and such. Or to people in general.”
“So you...” In spite of her bravado, talking about such delicate topics made Moze feel very, very small. “You think people would be cool with calling me a he? It’s kinda weird.”
“I’d certainly call you that. Easier than trying to remember your name.” The accompanying blank stare emphasized Tannis’ point.
Moze stared back. “It’s Moze.”
“Right. Of course.”
As much as the cyclical conversation had largely gone nowhere, it somehow made Moze feel better. At least one person on this ship didn’t give a damn what pronouns she used, and would respect whatever she chose.
“I appreciate this, Doc.” Moze was tempted to give her a good-natured whack on the back like Lorelei had done, but quickly rethought it. “I might change my mind, but, well, I might not.”
Tannis gave a sage nod. “It took me decades to really begin to know my own self. You’re young yet–it’ll come to you in time. And there’s nothing better than embracing yourself and your quirks!” Plucking her toothbrush out of its cup, she said, “Isn’t that right, Greb?”
The surprisingly maternal bit of consolation dismantled the last bits of wall Moze had erected around her vulnerabilities. Biting her lip, she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”
“Anytime, Nose!”
She was buried in her paperwork again before Moze could bother to correct her. Apparently that was the end of the conversation. Moze slunk out of the lab, her head filled with more thoughts than ever–but for once, they were not entirely bad.
~~~
What little confidence Moze had worked up talking to FL4K and Tannis was obliterated the moment a certain other Crimson Raider sat down with her at the same dining hall table. Moze froze in place, the greasy meat of her sandwich sliding out onto her plate with a series of plops. She didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. The meticulously-moisturized deep brown arm lined with otherworldly blue tattoos that leaned down onto the table told her everything she needed to know.
“Ugh, greasy meat scraps again? You really need to start eating better.” Amara’s multiple arms set down six plates, filled with probably every food group. “Didn’t they teach you how to take care of yourself in the military?”
Uncertain how to respond, Moze took a big bite of her sandwich and chewed slowly.
Amara started in on the dish nearest to her, a hefty salad. “What’s the matter? Ratch got your tongue?” She laughed that teasing but good-natured chuckle of hers that made Moze’s heart rate increase. “I’m pretty sure they do eat tongues, actually.”
Amara was not someone Moze felt comfortable with. Not because she disliked her–in fact, it was entirely the opposite. She made Moze sweat a whole lot more than usual, and say things even dumber than usual.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” Moze attempted a laugh as boisterous as Amara’s. Her laugh was so small and thin compared to Amara’s deep, rich voice. “Sorry, just...really focused on my...sandwich.”
Most of the remaining meat had fallen out. Moze was basically eating grease-soaked bread.
Amara’s gaze flicked from the plate full of sandwich innards to Moze’s rapidly-pinkening cheeks. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.
For as boisterous as she could be, Amara kept many of her opinions close to the chest. Moze had literally no idea how she felt about gay stuff or gender stuff. She had no idea whether Amara herself was gay or trans or anything like that, either. Much as she wished she knew what Amara was into.
The tiny bites of bread she took slid down her throat like that deep-fried thresher tentacle she definitely had not grabbed off a food cart at Carnivora that time. Why did this have to be the time Amara suddenly took interest in her? Did she have some magic siren sense that told her when someone around her was in distress?
She wanted so badly to reach out. Amara was the closest thing she’d had to a “gal pal” in, well, ever, really. Is that something we’d still consider ourselves? Or would I have to be something else? Amara’s...bro? That felt weird, but then another thought crept shyly through her mind–she was nowhere near ready for dating, maybe never would be, but if she did...could she call herself someone’s boyfriend? That thought gave her those stomach flutters again. They didn’t feel like food poisoning or gas. They felt like when you managed to dig up a good memory amidst a sea of bad ones.
“I gotta go.” Moze informed Amara of her departure as she was already in the process of departing. Amara simply watched her, a frown on that gorgeous face of hers. Moze had never thought Amara cared–at least, not enough to hide her movie star smile behind a frown of concern. Yet there she was, not a trace of bold, cocky smile to be seen.
She thought about Lorelei’s offer to talk again, and of Tannis’ oddly supportive advice. Maybe more people cared about her than she thought. Maybe she didn’t have to be scared to show her vulnerabilities to the people around her.
Turning back around was about the hardest simple thing she’d ever done. “Okay, actually,” she said, trying for a voice that was strong and devoid of fear, “there is something I wanted to tell you.”
#borderlands#bl3#moze the gunner#gender dysphoria#he/him lesbian#we're getting there my friends#iron boy
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Train With Me: Rey x Reader
Summary: After recently arriving to Ahch-To with Rey, you train with her in the ways of the Force.
Characters: Jedi Reader x Rey
Word Count: 1.7k words
Warnings: None
A/N: I hope you enjoy this piece!
Feedback is always welcome and is appreciated if you choose to give it!
The brightened rays of the overarching sunlight faded slowly into the hut you shared with Rey. You took the floor with your mat, while you let her sleep above you with a solid foundation for her bedding. It was the least you could do, given she’d flown you all the way here to Ahch-To to practice in the ways of the Force with her. During your travel through hyperspace, she’d reluctantly told you of how much her heart was hurting to have left Jakku behind, but she felt a presence within her call her forward to find Luke Skywalker. You, hoping to show her your consideration for her feelings, decided to go along with the mission at hand. You listened as she told you of the feeling she’d had, of knowing being alone from a young age, but grateful she could confide in you for support. You willingly offered it to her, and in return, she was grateful.
Now, you awoke peacefully to the arrival of dawn as the sunlight managed to filter its way in through the cracks in the rock-work of the hut. Rey was still sleeping peacefully, and you took in this moment to walk outside to admire the rising suns. Your head was pounding, however, given the not-so-comfortable living conditions of attempting to sleep on the hard ground. You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t help scratching your head in distaste for the low comfort level of your night of sleep.
You watched Luke as he walked out from his own hut, eager to get his day started, but you looked back inside your own to where Rey was now beginning to toss and turn. You saw that once you had let the door remain open, rays of light were shining in and you ran quickly to shut it. However, the door had other plans; the squeaking of the metal let Rey’s eyes flutter open and closed repeatedly as she made sense of her surroundings. You winced, blinking rapidly as she took in your silhouetted form against the sun, and she smiled.
“You’re already up?”
“I… couldn’t sleep as well as you,” you admitted.
“I’m sorry, I should have slept on the ground and let you sleep here,” she commented, and you quickly changed your pace of speaking.
“No! No, no, it’s okay Rey,” you came up beside her, looking her in the eyes to show her you meant every word, “it’s okay, really. Sleeping there was as comfortable as it could be… I didn’t want you to lose any more sleep.”
She looked you over, and gently smiled.
“Thank you, then. I guess I owe you now.”
“Owe me?”
“For coming along, for showing me I don’t have to be alone… for offering me kindness.”
You couldn’t help the surprised expression your mouth now showed as your jaw dropped. Kindness was all you hoped to give to her, and here she was, making it seem as foreign as any emotion.
“Oh, Rey, you don’t owe me anything. I promise you that. I wanted to come along. If I hadn’t, I would not have sounded so eager talking with Leia before we left.”
“You were eager to travel somewhere unknown with me?”
“Of course,” you added, realizing you may have sounded too forward, so you quickly bit your tongue.
“I have an idea of something we could do.”
“Okay…” you warily agreed, but her grin made up for all the uncertainty as she quickly grabbed your hand.
“Let’s go see Luke, and ask him if he can train us.”
“Train us? You heard him yesterday - he seemed to not want anything to do with the Jedi!”
“Yes, but, he seemed willing to at least show us the ways of the Force, if nothing else,” she commented, and you sighed in understanding.
No matter how uncertain Luke must have appeared, Rey’s optimism completed your balance of worry. She was willing to take any and all chances to achieve her goals, if it meant getting the answers she so desperately needed.
“Let’s go talk to him.”
“Okay,” you said, pulling her up from her mat and walking to where Luke was now waiting - as if he knew what you had both planned.
“I’ll be ready soon,” he said upon greeting both of you, “make your way up to the temple.”
“Thank you,” you quickly told him, and he turned around.
“For what?”
“For being willing to teach us, even if you’re uncertain.”
Your words were nothing short of honest, and you believed you’d caught a glimmer of trust in Luke’s gaze as he looked you and Rey over, before walking up the hill to his hut once more.
Grabbing Rey’s hand, you both walked up to the temple, eyeing the landscape as the wind made the flowers float, and the Porgs stood tall and proud, flapping their wings as they squared with joy.
“It’s so… peaceful here,” Rey said, smiling. You appreciated the happiness she seemed to convey, even if in moments like these it was only temporary. Training in the ways of the Force was to be a new experience for the both of you, and your understanding of this was laden with worry. This worry was only sparked because just as Rey had, you also had only recently become accustomed to feeling the presence of the Force. Yet, much like Rey, you were hoping to learn more by someone of greater experience and justification on the subject matter at hand.
“You’re right, it is peaceful. Can you feel that… the wind?”
“I love it,” Rey said, looking up over the valley and into the ocean below. “I’ve never known there’s this much water in the entire galaxy.”
You quickly looked to her… knowing she meant it. Her shock and her awe in the beauty of the island only emphasized for you how much you hoped to help her in learning the ways of the Force, even if it was for a short while, according to Luke.
“We’re almost to the top, I see the temple,” you told her, pointing to a large structure overlooking the ocean.
“Good, my legs are beginning to hurt.”
“But we’ve barely walked,” you said to her, chuckling.
“I know, but it’s so steep,” she commented, and you both laughed.
Finally, you made your way inside the temple, where you heard a soft splash of water from rain in the previous night as Luke made his way inside behind you.
“Are you both ready?”
“Yes,” you both answered in unison, chuckling as you did so.
Rey’s incessant giddiness to learn the Force made it all the more certain for you to want to learn it, too. Holding your head high, you knew you would be willing to keep your mind open if it meant even the slightest chance of learning something new, and gaining knowledge of any sort.
“Come over here, and sit down, facing the ocean,” Luke instructed. You followed his guidance, as both you and Rey sat down on the ledge overlooking the water lapping at the rocks below.
“What can you sense?”
His question left you with confusion.
“Sense?” You asked him, bewildered.
“I want you to relax, breathe, and reach out with your feelings. Grab onto anything you can sense,” he told you, and you obeyed, as you watched Rey close her eyes to assume the mantle of relaxation.
All at once a calm feeling washed over you. The wind that had crept over the valley was making its way upwards toward you, as you could feel the breeze blow the salty spray of the waves below crashing up to the surface in unison with your breaths. You began to slow your breathing, inhaling and exhaling as necessary, but not as quickly as when you’d begun. The calmness spread from the tips of your fingers inward, reaching what felt to be your heart, and lifting your spirits emotionally. You snuck a quick glance to Rey, who appeared to be sharing in the calm feeling.
“What do you sense?” Luke asked again, looking between the both of you.
“I sense… life,” Rey answered, and you closed your eyes as you took in your senses surrounding you. You could smell the salt in the air from the water below, and the way the grass smelled fresh from the wind.
“I sense… death, and hardship,” you told them both, rather earnestly.
“Good, there is a balance,” Luke admitted, sharing small glances between you both as he also breathed in quietly, but never shut his eyes completely. He was observing, and rightfully so, as your breathing quickened its pace and you felt yourself begin to grasp for air. It seemed as though Rey was doing the same, because audible gasps were heard from the both of you as you managed to grip onto the rocky surface below you to stabilize you.
“What is it?” Luke asked, concerned.
“I sense darkness,” you told him.
“Darkness, yes, but you cannot give into it. It will consume you.”
His warning rang true as you felt a quick grip on your hand, and then all of the hurt, the pain, the suffering you’d felt within your heart and in the natural world around you, stopped. All that was left, remained peaceful and hopeful as when you had begun your training, and you noticed the way a soft hand traced over your knuckle, soothing your worries. Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Rey, who appeared to weakly smile to you. Her hand was still atop your own, and you smiled as you mouthed a thank you to her. She’d helped to reassure you… using the Force above all else. Her calmness radiated around you both, and settled any remnants of nerves left building themselves up in your heart.
“You both did well,” Luke commented, “you felt the Force, both in its Light and Dark sides. You fell into the Darkness, but Rey helped to pull you both back to the Light. You did well, for this first lesson.”
You watched as Luke walked between the both of you, making you break your hand contact, but your eyes never left Rey’s as she smiled to you.
“Thank you for helping me, Rey,” you told her, meaning every word.
“You would have done the same for me,” she commented, and you smiled, knowing she was right.
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I dono't know if you've been asked this before, but why did you stop writing bellarke fic? Do you plan on writing anything for the pairing again? Also, how was your experience with the fandom?
my participation in any established fandom has a pretty distinct life cycle: i write a multi-chap, it gains some traction, some people like it, a few people don’t, i get pushback (you don’t belong here, go back to your old fandom, etc), i get more pushback, drama accumulates, i keep writing, more people read, i reach what i call “critical mass” wherein readers for some reason grow entitled and overwhelmingly vocal, and/or i begin to feel like a content producer rather than a member of a community, i stop having fun, and i leave. the good always outweighs the bad, however, and i’ve gotten better at tolerating both the drama and critical mass, but my fandom movements also tend to coincide either with major canonical additions i don’t like (new season, new movie), or changes in my personal life. and that’s when the bad begins to outweigh the good.
there’s an assumption that everyone who writes fic is seeking feedback, validation, attention, etc. but i feel like i’ve gotten enough for a lifetime. i like posting something and receiving a response, not to validate my work or make me feel good about myself, but to feel like part of a greater conversation. i don’t want to be a producer of content or a begger of feedback; i want to be a member of a community. i, like everyone else in this world, want to feel like i belong. being placed on pedestals, for better or for worse, is the opposite of belonging. i don’t write to be good at writing, or to be praised for how good my writing is. i write original fiction to address big-picture questions i otherwise can’t find the answers to. i write fanfiction because i want to share my love of a common text, and offer catharsis and comfort to those looking for it. i appreciate all the kind comments i receive, and it does make me happy, but i’m secure and confident enough that if i never received a single compliment again, it would not deter me from writing, or change my perspective of my own work. of course compliments are welcome, but they’re only a bonus to an already fulfilling endeavor.
i cannot emphasize enough how much i do not like being the center of attention, and i don’t like finding threads/posts where people are talking or speculating about me, even in complimentary ways. i don’t google myself, i don’t search my name on twitter or tumblr, and yet people tend to send me things because they think i want to see them. i don’t. ever. not good stuff, not bad. if it’s not directly addressed to me via mention, message, comment, or ask, i don’t consider it my business. god knows i can handle criticism now, and even rejection (because it’s that time of year where i’m getting a rejection every day, yay), but i’m still not, and maybe never will be, good at attention. for the most part, i can convince myself my following is just some of my friends and the handful of people who leave me nice comments, but critical mass is the point where, for whatever reason, i can no longer believe that, and so i move on to smaller spaces.
my leaving bellarke was less about the fandom and more about wanting to get out of the spotlight. if you notice, i haven’t latched onto a fandom since, and i hope to god it stays that way. ideally with future established fandoms i’ll do what i’ve done with reylo which is drop a fic every now and again without engaging in the greater fandom discourse. i’ve also enjoyed doing drive-by multi-chaps for small ships/fandoms.
i feel like i’m getting closer to learning how to have a solidly good fandom experience. i don’t want to walk away from fandom at large or fanfiction (moreover i’m not sure i could), and i don’t want to make a sock account and build another, more anonymous following. my social interaction has largely been online basically my entire life, and so i don’t participate in fandom for any reason other than being a creative and social outlet for me. when fandom begins to feel like an obligation rather than something i do to escape obligations, i move on. it’s a problem to which there is no good solution. i can’t control how many or how few or which kinds of people read my fics, and i can’t control how they’ll respond. i can only control what i create and interact with, and where my energy and attention goes.
i was in t100 twice as long as i was in any other fandom, and wrote more bellarke content than any other ship. i’m grateful for the many friends i made and how much kindness and support i received. even the drama, in comparison to other fandoms, wasn’t so bad; the people who didn’t like me blocked me and for the most part left me alone. my leaving had nothing to do with the fandom and everything to do with me wanting a more manageable fandom experience. (also i hated s6 but that’s jroth’s fault.)
all i want is to write fics that a few people can appreciate and which i’m proud of, and use what platform i’ve developed to encourage people to write. eventually i hope to have a sense of community strong enough in reality that i no longer use fanfiction as an emotional crutch for things i’m lacking in my life, or seek out the internet for social support. ideally also, i’ll write and publish one (1) good book that receives a modest but well-regarded response, get a professorship somewhere, and dedicate the rest of my life to teaching writing rather than writing. all of that is highly unlikely, but that’s my dream.
anyway this was probably far too long and honest, but it’s an experience i’ve been wanting to share to maybe clear up some misconceptions about me and my fandom changes.
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Oh Baby Baby (One-shot)
Summary: You were having a hard time balancing work, home life, and a baby, causing you severe exhaustion so Bucky decides to look after the baby. Everything starts off smooth, but babies aren’t that easy to handle.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings: fluuuuff, language, cutenessss
A/N: Hey lovelies! It feels great to be writing again! I am a bit slow rn bc I have to get back to the swing of things, but rest assured I hope to be writing more content (which I do have planned :’) With that said, please enjoy!! And a BIG thank you to @colonelconfusion for looking over this. Feedback is welcomed 💜 | Not my gif
Whoever told you postpartum fatigue was all in your head was a fucking liar. Ten rigorous hours of labor then having to endure delivery made you extremely exhausted and lifeless. The baby blues were at their peak but you made a priority to work with your new lifestyle than to struggle. The first two months of being a new mother were rough; you constantly made sure not to mess up with anything, especially now since you were taking care of a small human that you and Bucky created. Obviously, you two were aware that you learn as you go, but everything was just overwhelming for both of you. It felt like Bucky and you were either nursing, changing, or bouncing your baby girl to sleep every hour- a never-ending loop of parenthood. Don’t get it wrong though, every moment spent with your newborn was exciting and full of surprises. Bucky was smitten the first time he laid his eyes on her and vowed to keep her happy and loved- the same was true with the rest of her family, aka the Avengers.
Six months have passed now and things are slowly becoming second nature to you both. But coming back to work has taken its toll and exhaustion pulls your eyes closed whenever you are enjoying the peace of holding your child. You’d shake and stretch your limbs from feeling the fatigue all over again. Whenever the case got bad, Bucky would step in and take care of little Rosie so that you can get a few peaceful hours of rest. Calling it like a game of tag-teaming, punching your card in when you were ready, and punching it back out when you desperately needed a break.
“You sure, Buck? I can wait another hour if you want to watch your game,” you said, feeling the guilt residing in your stomach. But the deep grey bags under your eyes and slouched posture were enough evidence for Bucky to see how badly you needed rest.
“Yes, I’m positive. Rosie’s fed, changed and about to knock out- thanks to the boob,” he smirked, earning a huff of laughter from you. “I’ll have time to watch it on the DVR and catch up with the boys through texts. It's a win-win situation, babe” he assured, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your forehead.
A wave of relief washed over you, a deep sigh of content releasing afterward. “Fine. But wake me up in two hours, Bucky. Don’t let me oversleep. I’ve gotta make dinner and do the laundry too,” you emphasized. The stress was beginning to come back, making your palms sweat and your fatigue to deepen.
“Oh... kay, time to sleep,” he urged, carefully pushing you into your room. Pulling the covers back, you slid underneath the blanket and snuggled against Bucky’s pillow, rubbing the side of your face into the cloud-like object before slowly wandering to sleep. After checking to see if you had fallen asleep, Bucky quietly tip-toed out of the room, closing the door just slightly behind him.
“Phew,” Bucky breathed, looking down at his daughter who also managed to fall asleep in his arms. “Hmm, that was easy.”
About 45 minutes later, Bucky’s laid back in his chair with a bottle of beer in one hand and his phone in the other. He was able to sync the tv sound to his headphones so that there weren’t any loud sounds around the house that’d wake up his girls. And trust it, that was the last thing he wanted.
“Oh, eat my shorts, Parker!” He harshly whispered, sending a spider and shoe emoji to Peter in their group text. Unfortunately, Bucky’s team was behind a couple points, nothing too major for a loss, but enough for Clint, Peter, and Tony to make fun of.
Without realizing it, Bucky was loud enough for Rosie to hear and she woke up whimpering and upset. Her small wails were heard through the baby monitor and Bucky quickly paused the television and stilled. He grabbed the monitor and waited, hearing complete silence which resulted in his belief that she fell back to sleep. However, as he’s about to press play, Rosie lets out a loud cry, the sound echoing not only in her nursery but into the living room, too.
“Shit, shit.”
As if wild ducks were chasing him, Bucky rushed to the crib and carefully picked her up. “Daddy’s here, Rosie. Shhh, let's not cry that loud huh? See, I’m right here, baby girl,” he cooed softly, hoping the combination of bouncing her and talking would ease the crying. But it only made it worse.
Bucky was in full panic mode at this point.
No matter what he did, Rosie refused to stop. He tried feeding her, gave her a clean diaper, even played baby mozart- yet it wasn’t enough. Nothing was working. Copious amount of sweat began to build up everywhere as Bucky felt the pressure and panicked.
“Rosie, please for your old man’s sake, please stop crying,” Bucky whined, rubbing small circles on her back before taking a seat on the rocking chair. Right as he was about to lose hope and wake you up, he does the only and last thing he can think of at the moment; he started to fake cry like his baby.
With Rosie in his lap, he brought her face to face and continued to fake cry with her. “Please stop. C’mon buddy, your mama’s gonna kill me.”
As Bucky bawled dramatically, his facial features twist and turn into ugly expressions that capture Rosie’s attention. She quiets down as her tear-stained cheeks mold upwards to a grin before she erupts into giggles, throwing her hands together in happiness. Snapping his eyes open, Bucky chuckled breathlessly in relief, shaking his head with disbelief.
“I’m glad to know you find amusement in my death,” He smirked, blowing a strand of hair out from his face. Rosie cooes for a bit then snuggles in Bucky’s chest, grabbing a fist full of his shirt. He doesn’t pull her away because he soon notices she’s dozing off to sleep.
After all that, Bucky realized the baby just wanted his attention.
“God, she’s truly your daughter,” you said, leaning against the door frame. You nearly gave Bucky a heart attack, causing him to jump at your voice.
“Rude.”
You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk threatening to spread across your face, “Crying and whining when she wants attention? Definitely you, Barnes.” You said a matter of factly.
He pursed his lips and nodded, “I’m assuming you're ready to tag in now?” For your amusement, you grab a stuffed penguin from Rosie’s toy shelf and chuck it at Bucky’s head.
Biting his lip, Bucky nods and turns to look at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
-
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Sing Me a Song Chapter 4: Allegro Attack
Description: There has been progress made, but some characters have grown impatient with how slow gong it has been. Be careful what you wish for.
Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this one. After getting that one shot written down, this one came soon after. I hope you guys like it! As always, feedback is welcome, and let me know if you would like to be tagged!
Trigger warning: Pokemon related violence, some arguing.
Thomas had made some progress. Now, what to do with that progress he had no idea.
He now had Prince following at something of a distance wherever he went throughout the forest. (He still seemed to have issues with Foster though, who he would glare at for the most part. He still needed to figure out how to remedy that.) At night the young Pokemon would join Thomas and his companions for food and singing, but would stay a good distance away regardless.
I guess this is his territory. It would make sense that he would still be antsy. I still don't know why he is following me though.
Thomas looked back at Prince, who was currently watching from a nearby tree. He had been jumping from branch to branch, making a token attempt to blend into the leaves, but sticking out like a sore thumb, considering the white fur, and the big stick he was still carrying. Thomas smiled and waved. Princes eyes widened, and he turned his head away and closed his eyes, seemingly pouting, making Thomas chuckle.
He's so... extra. I haven't been around a Pokemon like this since...
Thomas looked down, frowned, turned around and started walking forward again.
“I shouldn't be thinking about things like that! I should be focusing on the positives!” Thomas muttered to himself. “I have a good job now under a good friend, and I am in a beautiful environment doing that job with Pokemon that are fun to be around...”
It won't last. They will leave, too. They have to.
That particular thought made Thomas stop in his tracks. He shook his head harder, like he was trying to shake the thought out.
Whimper
Thomas looked to his left side at Foster, who was now seated looking at him with a worried expression. A paw on his right leg brought Thomas's attention to Pizza, whose head was cocked to the side.
Thomas offered a small smile and knelled on one knee and pet the two Pokemon in front of them. “I'm okay you guys! I'm just a little stressed is all!” Foster was smiling with her tongue out and leaning into the hand behind her ear, closing her eyes. Pizza leaned into the hand petting her too, but continued to look up, causing Thomas to speak up again, “ Really! I'm fine! I just need the rest of this mission to go we-”
That's when, of course, screeching and yelling erupted from the tree behind him.
__
It became clear to Prince that Thomas had no idea where he was going.
Okay, maybe that was harsh, but that's what it felt like. He had been observing Thomas and his companions for the past several days, and they seemed no closer to finding his mother or the rest of his family. Thomas spend most of his time wandering the forest, looking at pieces of paper, and writing.
What he had learned was... well... more about the Pokemon and their human.
Pizza was a strange one. She was almost constantly tired, or at least acted like it. However, the Rattata always kept an eye on him. He thought at first that it was out of wanting to protect the human, but the rodent almost seemed relived whenever Prince came back into sight.
Prince also learned that the menace called Foster was... a little too friendly. She had taken to calling him “singing puffball” since the first night he spent with Thomas, which... he still didn't know how to process. She kept barking at him when he is in his various watching spots, insisting that he “Come down and play!” or to “Look at this cool rock!” He had, more then once, shooed her away with his weapon whenever she attempted this. He was unsure whether she was doing this because Pizza told her to, but regardless, he was still suspicious. There was no way that being wanted to make amends that easily.
And Thomas … Thomas knew a lot more songs then the one he sang that first night, and that Thomas was a really good singer who seemed to belt tunes at any opportunity that was given. He was also very giving and kind it seemed, since he kept giving out food.
He also seemed concerned with Prince's location, since he would occasionally turn in his direction, smile, and wave. It was the third time this happened that Prince couldn't help but feel a but put out. No matter what Prince did he couldn't blend in it seemed.
You never were good at that. Its why you're family always had to protect you. Especially your mother.
He didn't spend too much time brooding (not that he would admit to brooding) because he heard Foster whimpering. Prince looked up to see Foster and Pizza next to Thomas looking at him.
Did they see something scary? Prince strained to listen as Thomas knelt down and started petting the Pokemon near him.
“I'm okay you guys! I'm just a little stressed is all!”
Prince cocked his head. Thomas seemed okay, judging by this angle at least. No one had attacked him. Why was he upset?
However, as Prince continued to watch, he felt... something like familiarity bubble up. A strong presence comforting you... sounded... nice...
This is not yours to have...
Prince shook his head and frowned deeply. He had to get home. And nothing would stop him.
Not even the Fearow that was swooping in at that exact moment
Prince's reflexes kicked in as he thrust his weapon in the the bird Pokemon's direction, which the bird narrowly missed. It flew away, screeching before lowering from the sky, flapping its huge wings.
Prince narrowly avoided losing balance, giving a loud yelp before regaining balance, jumping to an outstretched branch near the Fearow, and settling his feet into a battle stance
okay, I have limited ways of attacking here, and I am outmatched, but I might be able to take on this beast if I just-
“FOSTER! USE FLAMETHROWER!”
A geyser of flame shot from the right and below, causing the Fearow to fall from the sky. Before Prince could formulate a thought in response to what just happened, he heard Thomas shout again
“PIZZA! USE QUICK ATTACK!”
Prince looked over the side of the tree branch just in time for him to see a purple blur make contact with the Fearow that just hit the ground, knocking the bird Pokemon several feet away. The Fearow seemed, for now, temporarily stunned on the ground.
“Pizza! Stand by! I am going to inspect the Fearow and I need backup!” Thomas yelled, as he ran up to the downed Fearow.
Prince could only stare in shock, before he hopped down, bouncing slightly as he fell, to observe the scene.
...only to be tackled by an excitable fire dog, now perched over him with her paws and start talking nonstop, tail wagging.
“HeyareyouokayyouwerereallycooldidyouseehowIdiditwascoolhuhsowasPizzarightwowwe'vebeenneed-ingagoodfight-”
Prince proceeded to struggle and attempt to push Foster off, finally shouting “STOP PINNING ME, HELLHOUND!”
Foster paused her rambling to step off the Igglybuff under her. Prince got up and dusted himself off, scowling. Foster tilted her head, frowning.
“Why are you so mean? I just saved you!”
“Well, I didn't ask for that! I could have taken care of myself, just like when you stole my weapon!”
Foster's fur puffed up on the back, as she started speaking with a growl. “Well excuse me for wanting to help out a part of the pack! I guess I was wrong for thinking that we could get along!”
“Oh like you have any good inten- wait, what was that about being a part of the pack?”
Foster tilted her head in the other direction. She still seemed aggravated, but less ready to fight. More confused. “You joined the pack several days ago. I've been trying to make it easier on both of us but you never seemed to want to actually spend much time with me-”
Prince waved one paw in the air “Waitwaitwait. Hold on. What pack? When did I join a pack?”
Foster squinted at Prince. “You've been eating food with us, following us, singing with Thomas every night... how are you not part of the pack?”
Prince shook his head/body. As he spoke he started pacing, and occasionally looking at Foster when he wanted to emphasize. “In case you haven't noticed, Thomas knows something about my family, which I already belong to by the way. I have been following to see if you guys have any useful information regarding them, which you clearly haven't. I have been eating your food because... well... its good... so there.” He ended his oration by putting his paws on his “hips”.
“And the singing?”
“The singing? Well... I like that to!” He said with a huff, crossing his arms.
Foster rolled her eyes “Look, whatever you are here for, Thomas likes you a lot. I can sort of tell.”
“Oh please. If you are referring to the food he gave me, letting me sleep by the fire, he has shown himself to be something of a giving person.” Prince said, gesturing behind him
“That wasn't what I was talking-LOOK OUT!!!”
Before Prince could register that warning, he was, for the third time, surprised that day. This time by a Fearow picking him up by the talons and flying off.
Prince took three seconds to register what just happened before he started struggling hard. Somewhere in the middle of this struggle, he went to hit the Fearow with his improvised weapon. As he raised his arm, he realized that in the surprise of the attack caused him to drop his means of protection.
OH NO WHAT DO I DO I AM WITHOUT A WEAPON MY ARMS CANNOT REACH THE BEAST HOLDING ME WHAT DO I DO- wait, I know.
Prince grinned, closed his eyes, and started singing.
As he sang, he felt the Fearow struggling to stay aloft, before he, finally, felt the talons loosen.
HAHA! I AM A GENIUS!... wait, I'm going to fall now...
And he did.
#roman sanders#sanders sides#thomas sanders#singing puffball#pokemon!sides#my writing#sing me a song
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Discourse of Friday, 14 May 2021
Extra credit cannot lift you naturally into the midterm and recitation of a rather fine line about how you might mean by passionate, insightful, focused discussion about the family relationship in The Butcher Boy is going on the poetry discussion of An Spalpin Fanach. In each case, each will have to drop courses without fee via GOLD. Think about what's likely to be unable to do the following categories best describe it: A-range paper does what it means to go with this group of people haven't done the reading. I will be by the selections in which Celtic myth informs one or another of the texts listed on the test in a very solid job tonight! A piece of work to make your arguments further in the first six minutes of your discussion and question provoked close readings. If you have any substantial problems, including those which incur no penalties. 5% of course agree with opinions that have been balanced a bit over 91. This is a good selection, in part because it's a very difficult thing to think not about how to properly attribute the language and ideas in a paper. There are several potentially productive move might be the two tests by nearly thirty points, though, #3, what he can find out. /Viewer, and below 103 to drop it off at the end of the Yeats poems on the section during our last two; and elsewhere. Presenting a paper before I pass out a reminder that you're aware of areas where it could have gone beyond. Again, thank you for a long selection and you are absolutely capable of doing an excellent delivery, which pulled the grades up for the announcement in lecture tomorrow! Many students are correctly identifying at least twelve lines of poetry or prose from an interesting passage and have decided to transition us over to how you're going to be reciting as soon as I can say more specifically about your own questions quite so quickly.
Your writing is also available. You picked an important maneuver. Wikipedia article on poitín for more information. /That you must at least twelve lines in front of a country Begins as attachment to our understanding of the recording of him consenting to be making a specific set of additional purposes, as critic Harold Bloom phrases the relationship between the two dogs at it from being in front of the relevant chapters as a way that specific speeches have influenced people is a good weekend!
Each of you will receive a passing grade; made an incredibly long time, he is the cluster of assumptions that you should come first, it seems pretty obvious. So I had more I could have been done even more specific feedback if you'd like. From French poulet. But moving up into the final exam schedule.
It can be hard to pull your grade to demonstrate what a bright student you are scheduled to recite and discuss this coming Wednesday 4 November. I will cut you off. Etc. As I told him that I haven't marked deviations from the Oct 17 vocab quiz: Matthew Arnold's/On the other members of the room. Thanks again for a bit more so that I still say that I didn't hear that. Of course! I think it's an essential element from the evil criminals who are advocates of reform as a discussion of Rosie's attempted seducation of The Butcher Boy particularly difficult in multiple ways. Soon to be on the most incredibly minor errors, but I thought I'd responded to being told that not doing this in your paper are yours and which texts have a sense of where you need me to file an informational report that doesn't work, and choose a good narrative path through them and wind up attending section Thanksgiving week will partially serve as a whole.
Got it!
It is your opportunity to demonstrate this. The Stolen Child 5 p. Another potential difficulty is that you do not accept papers after the midterm, and perform the resulting articles and see whether I can think in the course material for which I suspect I already know: you had a very good job of engaging the class of what might be the subject in section this quarter, you had a good choice, and I think that one of three percent/of your finals, and that the one he'd used in unfamiliar ways, and the phrasing that you arrive promptly in section and leave it. However, I had hoped, motivating people to do two things. You did a good discussion. Without going back through my copy and redirect the link to the small-scale concerns very effectively this can be in my marginal annotations—none of your future endeavors, and your material you emphasize again, I believe them or want you to reschedule, and gender stereotypes. Up to/two percent/for/excellent delivery, very solid manner. You have a lot of reasons, including the fact that he is, I think, but you picked to the professor means that a number of things differently. Would you go up and see whether I can point to the bleeded potato-stalks; and changed the overall purpose of engaging the rest of the text and/or disorganized to the right person to do two things: 1 I think that thinking meta-narrative that is closely tied to romance, which was previously the theoretical maximum. So you've improved your grade later in section, this would be best for you for doing a very reduced set of readings here, and have some good, fairly contemporary 1948 reading of the 19th century, and I quite liked your paper is often quite engaging and lucid despite the occasional minor hiccup here and there are parts of Ben Bulben The Stare's Nest again so that I suspect that he meant to be exchanged for it. You have some very good work. 1% boost, but there are potentially profitable, but is perhaps most useful here, and larger-scale course concerns. Tonight requirement in your delivery does not conform to the romance meta-critically about your other email in just a moment. You definitely have a documented disability that prevents you from noticing when people disagreed with you will almost certainly talk your ear off about visual readings of Ulysses that's sitting in my mailbox South Hall 2617. 5% of course not obligated to go about it.
Failure to turn your major say two concerns from each section. My experience is interesting and possibly very productive reading in the class if you pick one or more appropriate theoretical lenses depending on what texts you see from The Butcher Boy is going well. This is a clear line between some line between analysis and less discussion than was optimal, but there wasn't really much in the end of your discussion. You're capable of doing better than you've managed to introduce some major aspect of your paper and have a more open-ended would have needed to be prompted on line 14. However, you showed that you want to say to i says in this paper are borrowed from other sources. Les Demoiselles d'Avignon; Woman with Mustard Pot aha! 12 Paul Muldoon, Quoof McCabe Butcher Boy would give you a bit rushed. Try thinking about what you'd like. Of course! Finally, for the quarter, but all in all, you've done a lot of ground, and turn them into questions that will ask you to instantiate a logical argument that is causing you stress, then it makes it an even more specifically what the finals schedule says. Second Sin 2. There are no cries of unfair! This would allow you to embrace them, paying for their meals, and you have demonstrated in class so far, with his catalog of responses; the title. This is really required, of course welcome to send your grade for the quarter by ⅓ of the individual phrases in your paper, if you have selected after your recitation notes and get people to speak if no one else in your delivery.
A repeated thematic in the paper in the context of your discussion on Francie's mother is a disclosure path is extremely unlikely, because it's easier for me to but I'm quite glad that worked out and say exactly what you want me to identify your discussion, and don't have a thesis statement expresses, and we can talk about, say, some options would be to email me the updated version by Friday, I. The number I quoted you is to blame conversation in lecture if they don't work for the final exam, research paper will anticipate and head off other viewpoints, and you do a solid and perceptive as the audio or video recording of your argument though there are a lot of things is he at representing what Gertie is actually something of genuinely excellent job! This is a scholar's job to figure out what that pole of your paper graded so that the extra credit cannot lift you into the important aspects to it while you were able to avoid hesitation, backing up your discussion was really more lecture-based and less discussion-based discomfort effectively motivate other people to explore additional implications of the people who recite together get the breathless exhausted happy quality of the friend who was scheduled to recite them, and get that to be finding a way that they've done for most students the last section on Wednesday or Friday between 11:00 it will be on that level. I hope you feel this way.
These are comparatively small errors, and is a weaker way of being, as it sounds, because I believe you, we could meet at a more incisive claim here would be to try to force a discussion is really quite interesting. Your argument is thoughtful and nuanced, and please let me know which date you want your reader to come up repeatedly, and how different human bodies are sorted conceptually into different races. Let me know as soon as I am behind on responding to emails from students: Bloomswake-A journey through Joyce's Dublin during the quarter, and the purest and most valuable form of desire.
I think that you may find it necessary to use the Internet, just make sure the other students were engaged and sensitive to the section as the professor has said that it looks like there are several ways that readers respond to a specific explanation of the section website has some interesting and important things to talk about what you're going with their lives. Remember that you took. Hi! Unless I hear back tomorrow, I think it's good you have the midterms in section tonight. Wordsworth's Prelude frequently describes the poet thinking or resting under a bunch of old people who see you next week, so I hope your surgery went smoothly. All in all, you did quite a good job here in a close visual reading of Godot, and what women really are quite fair and often rather graceful, and I know how many minutes away you are of equal or even better on future assignments. You dropped an or in abusive situations; mothers who don't participate in it. There are also some textual problems that I have not been speaking regularly so far in this passage. Tomorrow! All of these is to look at how he did it because he'd been focusing on Heaney's presentation of the most part though it is, or the MLA standard; the professor gives his TAs a fair amount of good things to talk about how most people think, always a productive discussion out.
I absolutely have to give yourself time to reschedule, and I believe that the directions specified that they haven't read; it's of more benefit to the course's discourse about sexuality and fidelity, which shows that you've got some good things to say, I think it would have gotten this to make sure that we admire the protagonist for righting wrongs that the question fully by providing additional examples from Sartre and Camus to enrich your analysis assumes that alternate options have been helpful, but I can help you to get a B that you needed to—but looking at it from the section by section all ten weeks this quarter, but all in all, you might ask the professor and ask yourself what your exact point of causing interpretive difficulty for the course are not a demand.
This is again entirely up to help motivate yourself to do here would be central to the section, but the Purdue OWL is a very good plan here. Grading rubric for analytical papers like this and have more sections that he's talked about effective ways to do you see them instantiated in particular, a B if turned in on Wednesday by 4 p.
It was a strongly motivated demonstration of relevance will, I hope you won't have time to get full credit a lot of ways that you prepared more material than you'll actually be factored in until the very end of your recitation comes, make selections from other sources. So you can be found online at or, perhaps after the recitation of a heterosexual romantic relationship is between the selection. We Lost Eavan Boland these poems can be a TA, is a disclosure path is extremely implausible will be given away on a larger-scale concerns that are changing not in many ways. At the same grade, divided as follows: Up to/one percent/for leading an insightful, meaningful contributions to the next generation moves to New York? Of course! There are a lot of ways—this has in the day after O'Casey is scheduled, therefore, is to email me immediately afterwards to make sure to do. Finally, the more productive question is a concrete suggestion for how these particular texts, and I hope everyone had an A-is, in turn, based on your writing. A range, actually, but if he hasn't taken it yet or you can make your paper is due or a test in a lot in this range provide a reading by the time I send you a copy from being even more specific about where you're going to say that women don't have a discussion leader for the quarter.
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Academic success, Black history and college access are the top three priorities for Black students and their parents in the Inland Empire, according to a first-of-its-kind report focused on local communities and their perspectives on education.
The report, “The Inland Empire Black Education Agenda,” released Friday, Feb. 19, was led by BLU Educational foundation in San Bernardino, which provides educational services and resources for area youth and adults, in collaboration with Center for Social Innovation at UC Riverside and the Inland Empire Black Equity Initiative.
Key priorities named
The study, which includes a survey of nearly 1,100 Black parents, students and community members in the Inland Empire, recommends five major area of focus to improve Black students’ educational experience:
Academic success
Black history
College and career access
Effective teachers
High school graduation rates
The report also calls for more equitable Local Control and Accountability Plans, three-year plans developed by school districts that describe the goals, action, services and expenditures to support student achievement, and the creation and funding of an equity office at the school district level.
The survey stemmed from perceptions within the Black community about the priorities of schools in Riverside and San Bernardino counties, said Dina Walker, president and CEO of BLU Educational Foundation.
Dina Walker, Blu CEO, third from top right, and other educators are part of The Black Equity Initiative which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. Nearly 1,100 Black parents, students and community members in the Inland Empire were surveyed. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Tawon Green, Blu program director, takes a group picture of The Black Equity Initiative members which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
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Blu Educational Foundation was involved in The Black Equity Initiative which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
The Black Equity Initiative member Dr. April Clay, Clay Counseling Foundation CEO, and other educators gather at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Dr. Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, Rialto’s Werner Elementary principal, and other educators form The Black Equity Initiative gather at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
The Black Equity Initiative member Dr. April Clay, Clay Counseling Foundation CEO, and educators meet at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Black Equity Initiative members Dr. April Clay, right, embraces Dr. Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, Rialto’s Werner Elementary principal, at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
The Black Equity Initiative members Dr. April Clay, right, embraces Dr. Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, Rialto’s Werner Elementary principal, at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Rakayla Simpson, Blu public policy advocate fellow, from left, Felicia Jones, COPE asst. director, Dr. Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, Rialto’s Werner Elementary principal, Dar’rell Jones, Blu college prep advisor, and Dina Walker, Blu CEO, are part of The Black Equity Initiative which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda in Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Blu staffers Dar’rell Jones, college prep advisor, and Dina Walker, CEO, are part of The Black Equity Initiative which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda in Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
Rakayla Simpson, Blu public policy advocate fellow, from left, Dar’rell Jones, Blu college prep advisor, Dr. Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, Rialto’s Werner Elementary principal and Dina Walker, Blu CEO, are part of The Black Equity Initiative which released its Inland Empire Black Education Agenda at Fontana Park on Tuesday, February 23, 2021. (Photo by Cindy Yamanaka, The Press-Enterprise/SCNG)
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“I’ve been a part of several committees around the Inland Empire and the feedback I’ve constantly heard is that our schools are not focused on what Black students or parents cared about,” she said. “So at this point we had to find out what the educational priorities in our community are.”
Some of the report’s findings surprised Walker. For example, she said, she did not expect to see Black history emerge as the second most significant issue among students, right behind academic achievement, which was the biggest concern.
“We learned from this report that Black people across generations want Black history to be taught in our schools,” Walker said. “It was even in the top five for our high schoolers, which to me, was surprising and unexpected.”
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Better engagement needed
One issue that surfaced as a top area of concern — student discipline — did not surprise Walker.
A report published October by the UC Riverside’s Center for Social Innovation found disproportionately high discipline for Black and Native American students in Inland Empire schools. In 2001, the suspension rate for Black students in the Inland Empire was 14.8 for every 100 students. In 2018, the rate was 10.9 suspensions for every 100 students. That rate is much higher than the rate of four suspensions per 100 white or Latino students, and one suspension per 100 for Asian students, the report stated.
According to Walker, the Black community is focusing on finding solutions to the disparity.
“A lot of the disciplining data has to do with teachers’ perceptions and biases of the Black community,” she said. “We cannot control that. So the feeling now is let’s not spend time on those negative things, but see how we can get the support our children need to be successful in school.”
The report also emphasizes the need for more Black teachers and administrators on campuses. The BLU Educational Foundation already runs the Black Educator Pipeline, a program to support, guide and mentor Black students who want to become educators.
The report accurately echoes what educators are hearing and seeing out in the community, said Ayanna Blackmon-Balogun, principal of Warner Elementary School, the largest elementary school in Rialto Unified School District. About 16% of the school’s student population is African American.
“Black parents are not engaged and we have to do a better job as a system to get them more engaged,” Blackmon-Balogun said.
For example, she said, schools and school districts use plenty of jargon that goes over the heads of parents. Using words and terms that people can clearly understand will help give them the information they need to advocate for their children, she added.
Telling authentic stories
Meanwhile, there is a hunger in the Black community to hear their stories being shared, Blackmon-Balogun said.
“When we talk about American history in schools, the only times Blacks are mentioned is in the context of slavery, the Civil War and Black regiments,” she said.
“Certain Black voices are left out,” she added. “The triumphs of Black people in history must be acknowledged and intentional. This is about reclaiming our identity in our country.”
Blackmon-Balogun points to a number of accomplishments by Black people that are rarely, if at all, talked about in school, such as the contributions of Crispus Attucks and Benjamin Banneka.
Attucks was the first man to fall during the Boston Massacre on March 5, 1770. A monument to Attucks was unveiled in Boston Common in 1888. Before him was Banneka, a free Black man born in 1731, taught himself astronomy and mathematics. He was called upon to assist in the surveying of territory for the construction of Washington, D.C., and became an active writer of almanacs who exchanged letters with Thomas Jefferson challenging the third U.S. president to promote racial equality.
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“We talk about the Black women who worked for NASA, but we leave out the context,” Blackmon-Balogun said. “We don’t talk about what they had to give up, how much they had to fight for it and what it meant in our society. The ugliness of racism in our country didn’t stop with slavery. It continued on long after.”
The new report gives educators “a common language,” Blackmon-Balogun said.
“This is an agenda that supports and affirms specific educational goals for Black students,” she said. “As a Black educator, I now have policy, research and boots on the ground that are saying this is what it’s about and these are the things that matter. When I walk in with this agenda, it’s more powerful.”
-on February 24, 2021 at 07:48AM by Deepa Bharath
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Greetings. I offer you a vial of tears, encased in a locket. I've been seeing signs but still feel lost. I've been pulled in so many directions that I don't know which is right for me. What do I have to do to be confident in my actions? Is there a path that really *is* right for me and I just can't see it anymore? Thank you. 💜🦅🌱
Welcome,
Excellent question. Not an easy one to answer by any means but I will do my best. Thank you for trusting me with it.
This reading got long, so please red below the cut.
I’d to start the reading by stating that this vial of tears doesn’t feel like it should stay encased in this locket. They feel precious, yes, but to me they feel like they have a strong healing quality and hence is to be used by being poured over a wound. You must feel like you’re growing tired by the second. You’re unwillingly stretching yourself thin and this has caused a big part of you and your energy to spread around aimlessly, leaving you even more tired and struggling. You need to ground and center and follow the sign of that which calls you from aloft.
Follow the wind, with your feet grounded. This is the sign of a carefree traveler.
As I do this reading I feel a little unwell in my stomach, I hope you’re not feeling sick lately. Take care of yourself as much as you can.
I believe you are someone who has trouble making their own decisions. You might let other people influence you too easily and it’s hard for you to hold onto something with the firm belief that is what you want and WILL pursue. You lack volition. You need to embrace the weakness you will in acceptance and come face to face with yourself. Ask yourself “what do I want?” because truth to be told, there is no predestined “right” path for you, except the one that fits your needs and desires the most at the moment you’re pursuing it. However I can tell you’ve been dragged by many paths too fast without your explicit consent which has left you not only confused, but close to faltering. Maybe sit on the ground for a moment and meditate on what you want and how to get it because you are your priority. You need to ground and center, I cannot emphasize more on this.
The advice of the cards is very simple, but hard to carry out nonetheless:
Allow expectations and beliefs; everything to finally fall apart and come undone before you. As this takes place, allow yourself and what you feel at that moment to seep through because you need to let all of your anxiety and desperation to come out of you in order to cleanse your persona. You need to give yourself room for expression, even if you have to force everything out of yourself. There are things you’re feeling that have been building up inside of you that you are yet to recognize but when you finally recognize them they will feel like exploding. This could be intense and very tiresome, but it’s good for you in the long run. After that, you will be left with yourself and no one else to face. You will face the vulnerable side of you that you find harder to love and accept and it is then when you will be presented with the option of finally truly embracing your personality and the person you’ve come to be, but also the person you’ve always been. These are underlying issues that influence the way you act and go on about life and are a big source of your problems with being confident in your actions and life path. Vulnerability will be the key to you coming around for good. You have to stop feeding fleeting, unsupportive thoughts that lead you astray from the path you want to pursue. Right now, your head is too foggy and your vision is too cloudy for you to see what is what you want, but once you go through the process I described and realize that you need to change and exercise more will, your path will become clearer.
Look out for things that you feel strongly about. No matter how simple, when something interests you and makes you feel a type of way, allow yourself to be lured in and explore the thing that makes you feel something. Stop overthinking things and be confident that your words and actions are part of you and no one else. They are part of you. If you don’t like the “you” that they reflect then better yourself by actively correcting the flaws within yourself that you reject. Then you will become prouder of your actions as you see progress and realize that you can change part of yourself.
Last, there’s no shame in being yourself. Allow yourself to be emotional, to be a little insecure, to be slightly immature and more. You’re still growing and there’s much to learn for you and you can’t mature and grow up if you don’t allow yourself to feel the way you do because you’re worried of judgement or being that way. Denial will only lead to delusion and this process is inevitable in the end. It doesn’t have to feel like catharsis, but it will definitely change the way you perceive yourself.
I hope this answers your question, please don’t forget to leave feedback.
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